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touyasdoll · 2 years

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Kinktober Door #1: Body Worship

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (f!receiving), soft/intimate sex, this got sappier than I intended

Notes: I just miss Bakugou I think lmao not a very kinky start to my kinktober, but oh well. Enjoy <3

Katsuki is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone with the evening news droning on in the background when you plop yourself right into his lap.

You gently guide his phone away from his face and straddle him, winding your arms around his neck like you have so many times before.

“Can I help you?” He asks as his hands gravitate to your hips, his eyes drawn to the pensive expression painted on your face.

“Do you love me?”

“What?”

He’s practically insulted by the idea that you would even ask.

“The fuck d’ya mean do I love you? Course I fuckin’ do. What kinda question even is that?”

There’s a pout on his lip when he asks and you kiss it away.

“Why aren’t you payin’ attention to me then?” You muse as your hands card through his blonde locks. “I miss you.”

“I’m sittin’ right here and you’re on my lap. What makes you think I don’t love you?” His brow cocks as his large hands slide over your hips to grip your ass and his hips shift up into yours. “You want attention, huh? Baby, all you had to do was ask.”

And with that, he stands, effortlessly lifting you up onto his waist as he carries you off towards the bedroom, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“M’askin’ now.” You grin, tightening your arms around his neck while your legs lock around his waist. “I miss you, Kats.”

“I know, princess,” he says softly, stealing a chaste kiss when he stills through the door. “But we’re gonna fix that, ‘kay?”

He lays you down, wasting no time as he crawls up your body to attach his lips to your neck, kissing along your skin in all the right places.

“M’gonna show you just how much I love every fuckin’ bit of you, so you never have to ask me that stupid fuckin’ question again,” he murmurs as his lips hover over your pulse point, nipping at the thrumming beneath his lips.

“Baby,” you whine softly, hands traveling over his bare chest as you tilt your head to the side and he takes the opportunity to kiss his way towards your collarbone.

“Do I love you,” he scoffs, shaking his head as warm, calloused palms slip beneath your top, making quick work of stripping it off of you before he sits up to kneel between your legs and rake his eyes over your body. “You got no fuckin’ clue how much I love you. I don’t think you ever will.”

His mouth finds your breasts next, mawing at the soft flesh while he free them from their confines.

“Let’s start here,” he whispers, hot breath against your skin as he takes your nipple into his mouth. “You think I don’t love these? M’always fuckin’ starin’ at ‘em. Waitin’ for the next chance I get to do this.”

His teeth catch and pull gently, sending delicious shivers down your spine while your hands knit into his hair.

“And you think I don’t love this pussy of yours?” He pulls back to look down at you as if you’d tried to assert that the sky isn’t blue. “Like my dick doesn’t twitch every fuckin’ time I think about it.”

You gasp as his hand slips into your pants and under your panties to drag his finger between your folds. Your hands grasp at his forearms, hips shifting forward to chase his touch as the pad of his digit presses against your slick entrance.

“K-Katsuki,” you whisper, voice trembling as you teen with anticipation and all you’re met with is his smug smirk.

“You oughta know better, so I’m gonna show you exactly how much I love this sweet fuckin’ cunt of yours.”

It’s a promise. One that he clearly intends to make good on, but not without having his fun tormenting you first.

“Whaddya want, princess? You want me inside you?” His voice drops as he leans in close enough that you can feel his breath on your chin. “Which part, huh?”

His lips come so close to yours, but he doesn’t close the distance and when you try, he pulls back.

“C’mon, baby. Use your words. Which part of me do you want in your pussy first? Because you’re getting all of ‘em,” he insists as his fingers migrate to your clit, drawing it in slow, agonizing circles.

“Fingers. Please,” you beg, shifting your hips again as a moan is pulled from your lungs.

“Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding you by slipping his middle finger right where you want it most. “Like this?”

“More, please,” you implore, sighing with relief as he indulges you and adds another.

“Gettin’ greedy already?” He smirks, slowly postponing his fingers in and out of you and his lips finally meet with yours. “You have any idea how hard you’re makin’ me? Just feelin’ your insides—hell. Just lookin’ at cha makes me wanna shove my cock in ya already. It’s hard keepin’ my hands to myself when we’re out, y’know. Watchin’ everybody look at you, but they don’t get to have this.”

His teeth catch your bottom lip as his fingers start to move faster and your spine bows beneath him. His warm, wet mouth is on your breasts again, smothering them with kisses and love bites as he relishes in the feeling of you writhing beneath his touch.

“S’all fuckin’ mine. And I’ll be damned if you don’t understand how much I treasure every single inch of you.”

Before you know it, his tongue is between your thighs, expertly spelling out all the declarations that he’s made. His tongue delves inside of you, nose bumping your clit as a groan vibrates against your core.

“Fuck. Like I wouldn’t love a pussy that tastes this sweet,” he huffs a laugh and licks a stripe up your center, letting the tip of his tongue toy with your clit.

“Katsuki,” you whine, breath escaping in an airy whisper.

The sound of his name on your lips spurs him on and he starts devouring you like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. It’s sloppy, but it’s glorious. Your fingers knit into his hair, desperate for something to hold onto you when that familiar feeling threatens to have you spiraling out of control.

“Baby. B-baby, I—fuck!” Your hips buck and his hands seize them, wrapping around your thighs to lock them down into place as he continues his efforts.

He doesn’t relent when you slap your hands to the sheets, nor when your cries echo off of the walls. It isn’t until tears run over your cheeks and your hips nearly break free of his grasp that he finally lets go and sits back on his haunches. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a smug grin as he climbs over you, staring down at your trembling form with pride gleaming in his carmine gaze.

“You okay, baby?” His voice is softer when he leans down to brush the tip of his nose against yours.

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closed and mind still reeling when you open them again as he captures your mouth.

You taste yourself on his lips, sticky and sweet, and then again on his tongue when he works it into your mouth. Your arms wind around his neck, holding him close as he shuffles out of his sweatpants, suddenly desperate to be inside you as your mouths work against one another in a struggle for dominance.

“I love you,” he breathes out, panting when he breaks away.

His forehead falls against yours and his hand cups your face. He decides that his primal urges can wait a moment.

“I love you more than anything. And for more than just your body, y’know.”

His thumb glides against your cheek as he pulls back to look at you, his eyes searching your face. A perfect face, he thinks. You can feel your cheeks filling with warmth and the urge to look away, but you know better. He won’t let you hide from him like that.

“I love the way you laugh. The way you smile,” he goes on, a fond smile ever present on his lips. “The way you never hesitate to yell at me when I’m bein’ an ass.”

You laugh and look away, but he gently tilts your face back to focus on him, mirroring your amused smile.

“I love how smart you are. How hard you work. The way you can always make me laugh. Even the annoying shit you do that I pretend like I can’t stand,” he chuckles. “I love all that too. I love every last fuckin’ thing about you, baby. And I always will.”

“I love you too, Katsuki,” you say softly, resting your hand over the one on your face. “I love you so much.”

“I know ya do,” he whispers, his tender smile leaving a kiss on your forehead as he takes your hands in his, intertwining them as he repositions himself between your legs.

He slowly nudges himself inside you, sighing with relief when he feels the comforting warmth of your walls hugging him tight and you respond in kind, a gentle gasp leaving your lungs as your brows pinch together.

His intention is everything it wasn’t only moments ago. It’s careful and purposeful. His hips roll at a steady pace, each thrust deliberately bringing you closer to euphoria as your bodies meld together like they were made for one another.

“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, trailing kisses along your jaw as he increases the tempo.

“I love you too,” you murmur back, breath catching in your throat as you squeeze his hands tight, moaning as you begin to feel that thrumming in your ears again. “Katsuki, oh my God.”

“I know, baby. I know,” he pants, giving your hands a gentle squeeze as he drives you both right up to the edge. “Fuck, I love you.”

A few more thrusts is all it takes to do you both in. You come undone with a sob and he folds his arm beneath you, keeping one hand tight around yours while he holds you close. He grunts, hips stuttering as he pours himself into you.

You both lay there for a moment, collecting yourselves through the haze of bliss with no shortage of tender touches and contented bums.

He eventually falls to the side of you to pull you against his chest and kiss the top of your head while his fingertips glide along your spine, your nerves still singing a beautiful chorus of elation.

“Still think I might not love you?” He murmurs into your hair.

“No,” you giggle, nuzzling your face into his chest while your arm folds over his middle. “I know you do.”

If you enjoyed this, likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading <3

#kinktober 👻#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader smut #bakugou x reader smut #bakugo x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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navibluebees · 1 year

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spider x wainfleet's daughter!reader where they are just chilling on the ship and pissing of their dads? <3

i know i've been MIA lately please forgive me

Please read before interacting.

akhsfdkfh there is nothing to forgive; I saw your posts that mentioned you might be away a bit. No worries & I hope things are okay now/ will be soon! 💜

I love this so much. They're the most stressed-out dads there's ever been. Also, this turned out a bit sappier than I expected. I figure you guys will pick up on it soon enough; if you request from me, you are extremely likely to get some kind of squishy moment in there. I am a softie and I need everyone to get the love they deserve. That is all. <3

You stumbled over the raised portion of the door between sections of the ship. Spider grabbed your arm and tugged you along, cackling as you got deeper in the ship. You dodged crewmen and wove through the rooms, leaving a trail of chaos behind. You shared a smile as you yanked him hard to the side, diving into a spot so small it only fit smaller humans. You crouched together, clinging tightly and trying not to burst into giggles.

Heavy footsteps stomped past your hiding place. They paused and with an exasperated sigh, went back the way they came. "Fucking kids," one of the recoms grumbled. Another one grunted in assent and you waited quietly until you couldn't hear anything more.

Spider was the first to crack, a laugh bubbling out of his lips as he met your eyes with a glimmer of mischief in his own. You squeezed his arm and relaxed a moment, breathing heavily.

You'd been so relieved to see a familiar face, having grown up around each other. Spider had spent most of his time with the Na'vi in the forest, but you'd shared classes together as the community rebuilt after the RDA was sent home. When the humans split at the return of the RDA, Spider had stayed with the forest and you were pulled in the other direction to what would become Bridgehead.

He leaned against you for a moment before he pulled away and smiled kindly. "My friend Kiri would like you a lot, I think."

You beamed, remembering the pictures Spider would draw of his friends in class, the blue stick figures always towering over him. "I hope I get the chance to meet her."

He nodded, quiet for a moment. "So.. how are you doing with all this?"

"Being on a ship or finding out my father is a giant blue cat-man?"

Spider snorted. "Both? I guess. I can say for sure I could have never anticipated this happening."

You bit your lip and nodded. "For sure. Yeah, I mean, at least we have our dads?" you said with a shrug.

You and Spider were in incredibly similar situations. His mother had passed when he was just a baby and yours had decided she didn't want to be a mom in the first place. One of your father's flings and she had convinced herself she was excited about having a baby. She just liked the idea until you were there and actually needed things from her. Supposedly she had gone back to Earth with the first crew and stayed there, refusing to come back for her daughter.

You paused a moment longer before saying, "It really sucks not knowing more about our parents. Like.. these guys have their memories. They remember our moms better than we do, for sure. But they're not really our dads? I dunno. It's just a lot to process."

~~~

Spider still felt uncomfortable eating around the mass of humans at meal times, so you two had hunted for a better spot to eat. You had lucked out on the top level with a massive window seat to sit at and ate quietly, shoulders bumping together. When you'd finished, Spider set your trays on a shelf nearby and you curled up against him. It was reminiscent of the nap times you'd had when you were young. The two of you would always sprawl across each other's mats and at some point ended up flopped across the other one.

You watched the waves, brow furrowing with worry. Spider reached over and smoothed it out with his thumb as he gave you a knowing smile.

"KIDS!"

Your bodies flinched in unison, cringing as you turned to meet the extremely annoyed faces of your fathers. Quaritch's hands were on his hips, nostrils flaring wide and eyes slitted as he glared at you both. Your own dad's arms were crossed and you lifted your gaze to his and saw his frustration in his pursed lips.

Quaritch's finger pointed accusingly between the two of you. "You absolutely CAN NOT be running around here causing trouble for everyone! You need to stay where we say, when we say. This is not a place to be reckless!"

Your arms folded over your torso, protectively, as you tried to keep yourself put together. Navigating this new dynamic had been nothing short of awkward and even downright painful at times. Frustrated tears betrayed you as they slipped down your cheeks.

Your dad's arms relaxed slightly, glancing between the frustrated faces of the rest of your small group. He slapped his leader on the back, startling him. "Alright, alright. I think you made your point. The kids are going to listen from now on, right? Right?"

With a quick nod from you both, Quaritch snorted and spun on his heel to leave the room. Spider glanced between you and your dad before patting your arm reassuringly and taking off after his own recom father.

You turned your face away from your dad's, angrily swiping the tears away. The seat cushion dipped beside you and you tried to move farther away before an arm came around your shoulders. His hand came up to your chin so he could turn your face to his. He offered an awkward smile.

"I know this isn't easy. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But you and I.. I want to be able to know you. I know Colonel's got his tough love method and it works sometimes, but I don't think that's the way for you, is it?"

You fought more tears and shook your head, hanging it low to hide your face. He smiled at the top of your head and gently smoothed your stray hairs.

"It's not for me, either, I think. So, please. Stay where we know you guys will be safe. I don't want to lose you again. I can't. Especially not now that I know you. I'd like to be part of your life if you can accept that."

The moment stretched awkwardly between you before your hand shot out to grab his fingers. You gripped them tightly and he pulled loose from your hold for only a moment before sweeping you up in his arms and holding you tightly against his chest.

"Alright then, my girl. I've got you."

#lyle wainfleet #miles quaritch #spider socorro #avatar recoms #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar 2

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sir-yeehaw-paws · 9 months

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back in your ask box!!! i watched your final thoughts for yakuza 1 video (well done on being able to stand some of the glitches like god) and i was wondering if you had any more that you forgot to say or didn’t think of in the moment? i just really love hearing people’s final thoughts on game or other piece of media

That video ended up getting WAY sappier than I expected in the end but I seriously should've seen it coming TBH. I'm a sappy person at heart and anyway let's not get too sidetracked.

So I will say I definitely forgot to mention the camera. Having no control over the camera does mess with me quite a bit. Because Kiryu will turn around and you'll notice in the videos I uploaded of fights-he sometimes just stops hitting enemies. They're gone. Lots of times enemies would get stuck behind wall and other objects. I was also constantly checking the map in the menu itself, because I kept getting directions mixed up.

Not a game breaker, does make for some intense awkwardness. (Some of it's my own fault, I am hardly the gaming champion around here ahaha)

Combat got repetitive. My own fault because as I said in the video, I didn't finish Komaki's training thanks to the input issue. I had other skills I developed too, but I wasn't ever remembering to pull it off. So I didn't vary it to the degree I could've.

At the ending, I was going to finish the hostesses but I messed myself up there because you have Haruka permanently in the endgame. And her bond with Kiryu decreases if he goes to those places (it dropped when I bought weapons at Beam) and I feel bad making her sad so that was my own issue.

There is one place where the original game is better than Kiwami that is..going to probably be a 'hot take' but-not having Majima ambush you every twenty seconds makes for a less stressful game experience overall. You can get from point A to point B with only the standard street goons (which are VERY persistent you can barely get around the block without at least two ambushes: and they have bigger enemies that are in larger groups) but those fights are fairly quick, and pay well!

Majima, meanwhile, can seriously drag out. It's not as bad in the beginning but you'll come up to the end of Kiwami like "please..just one break..I do not have any more healing items."

For RGG'S first game out of the gate, it's good. I enjoyed it more than I expected too. It's all the same elements I love with Yakuza (as I had sapped about in the video) and the characters are recognizable, even in this rougher around the edges stage.

The dub itself is a strange point. As I said, again in the video, I've done some digging on it. The localization is considered decent, (apparently 'hit some balls' is translated as accurately as it could be) but that excessive swearing really shoves it into the 'trying to hard B movie' stuff. HOWEVER.

It has a GOOD cast and there's times where it's done really well. I don't have the kind of professional experience to claim someone is 'phoning in a performance'. I can't make that call. Not all line deliveries are very good, and there's some odd changes between how characters talk from beginning to end. There was one point near the end where Kiryu delivered a couple lines and sounded like a completely different person?? It was odd.

Directing is where it really shows. I feel like with the voices behind it, and the localization team, had it been given better directing, it would've been a bit I guess. stronger? I feel it's important to keep in mind too with it being the first game (and RGG wasn't some triple A studio back in the day either) they did pretty good.

;)

The games good! It's fun, it's recognizable. and I honestly think that if I had gone into Yakuza with this as my first game, I'd still be here. I got into Yakuza via Yakuza 0 and have since gone through the entire series. It's very important and special to me and I genuinely enjoyed Yakuza 1 more than I expected.

I didn't anticipate hating it, of course. But I was still a little surprised regardless since it is so infamous in the fandom. My only regret is that unless you own a PS2 or a really good emulator, so many people can't play it. Which is a shame overall. That's not unique to this and Kiwami, the remake is out there and known. But still. Sometimes I get a little sad about how hard game preservation has gotten.

#yakuza #yakuza 1 #asks #answered asks #SORRRY I RAMBLED

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jincherie · 5 years

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mystery gang; unsolved | PT. 1

☾ — pairing: taehyung x reader ☾ — genre: demon au, supernatural/paranormal au, buzzfeed unsolved au/inspired, smut (oncoming), f2l ☾ — words: 8.1k ☾ — rating: adult! this one is sfw, but future part/s will be nsfw ☾ — warnings: demons and haunted houses, supernatural & paranormal themes! some slight dark themes too. ☾ — notes: part one of 2! or maybe three. depends how the next parts go. I’m finishing this over the next few days-- it was meant to be done completely by now, but a combination of life and my usual “accidentally giving the story too much meat” antics have resulted in this! I wanted to stay at least a little true to my word, so here’s the first part!

ever since you met taehyung in one of your first year classes at university, you seemed to click and you hadn’t parted from each other’s side since. you’ve been his friend for a few years now, and your mutual interest in the supernatural and taehyung’s propensity for finding the spotlight wherever he goes led to the two of you starting up your very own supernatural investigation vlog series. friends isnt the only thing you want to be, and one night close to hallow’s eve when the two of you get a little in over your heads in a way you never have been before, you find out that maybe it’s not only you that feels that way.

— posted; 01.11.2019 // masterlist | next⇥

MYSTERY GANG; UNSOLVED — PART ONE

Every creature, past or present, had one true weakness. This weakness was cut from the same cloth of creation as them, complimentary in every sense of the word and a match so perfect and natural it shook even the most corrupt of creatures to their very core. The universe moved to reunite a creature with their weakness only every so often, and when it did there was no question, no refusing it.

Centuries he’d lived, walking the planes of the mortal realm, the underworld, and the space between. He was young, for a demon, and had spent most of his youth chasing pleasures of the flesh and wreaking havoc in the mortal world. He’d had a riot doing so, too, until the fateful day the universe shifted and he met you. A weakness, his weakness. He was thousands of years too young to ever have considered the possibility of such a rare occurrence happening for him, and as such wholly unprepared for what the future held for him. Try as he might he was unable to resist the strings puppeteering him so, and it was with great reluctance that he resigned himself to the remainder of his time spent guarding, protecting, shielding this weakness.

He never imagined he’d end up enjoying it so much.

– x – x – x –

“Can you pass me the lens, Tae? I need to clean it before we pack it all up ready to go.”

Instead of the heavy weight of the camera lens you were expecting, it is a ticklish sensation against the palm of your outstretched hand that greets you. Unimpressed, you look over to see Taehyung tickling your palm with his fingertips, a large grin tugging his lips. When you shift, preparing to smack him, he ceases his movements with a loud laugh. The requested camera lens is quickly placed into your palm to appease you before you get too violent.

“Thank you,” you emphasise, shooting him a sarcastic grin despite the fact you admittedly found his antics a little funny.

“You love it when I tease you,” he scoots closer, huffing and blowing silvery strands out of his eyes so he can nail you with a smouldering look without hindrance. His next words escape on a low breath that has shivers running down your spine that you do your best to hide and ignore. “Admit it.”

“Hmm, don’t think so,” you offer a rebuttal, shooting him a sly look before returning your attention to the lens and cloth in your hold. “But keep trying, maybe one day it will work.”

Taehyung snorts, leaning back on his hands with his legs crossed before him as he lets out another loud laugh at your response. You can feel his eyes on you still, and do your best to ignore it despite how it makes heat crawl and trickle like lava down the column of your spine, dripping slowly into your gut. Year three, month two of pretending the male you befriended so quickly and easily in your first year of university doesn’t have such a powerful, swaying effect on you, and it isn’t getting any easier. His stare alone has the little hairs along your skin raising to attention, body constantly on high alert. If only, if only you had the same effect on him—then perhaps there wouldn’t be such power imbalance in that regard.

As mentioned, you’d met Taehyung around halfway through your first year of university, when the first semester ticked over into the second and you were dealt a whole bunch of new classes, new people, and new seatmates. The second you saw him enter the large lecture theatre your next class was to be held in, you registered that he was far too attractive and therefore painfully out of your league, and made a note to avoid him at all costs to save yourself any future embarrassment. Like any respectable individual who was actively attempting to avoid someone, you shrunk into your seat and focused on scribbling nonsense onto the back cover of your notebook, allowing your hair to fall from its style and shield your face somewhat for maximum sleuth as the walking Adonis began to climb the steps of the aisle.

Your efforts were for null, however, as you’d caught his attention the second he stepped foot into the room. A scent so divine it bordered on sinful brushed his senses upon entry, and he was suddenly aware of one distinct heartbeat amongst the eighty-odd others in the room. His gaze was drawn to a seat in the far middle of the theatre, besides the windows and pushing the title of a back row. There, it was you. The source of the intoxicating scent, the owner of the heart beginning to race in what he pinned to be a mixture of excitement and anxiety, and the most captivating human he’d ever laid eyes on. He made a beeline straight for you.

Of course, you would never be privy to any of that. You just knew that one second you were scribbling aimlessly, waiting for him to pass, and the next you were jerking your head up at the sound of chairs nearby squeaking as people pulled out of the way and—oh god he didn’t go past he was walking straight for you. While you aren’t proud of the flustered, discombobulated manner in which you’d handled the situation and introduced yourself, you are proud to say that after that initial interaction you were quick to develop a resistance, a filter of sorts. You aren’t immune to his wiles and charms, his odd flirtatious remark and heavy-lidded gaze, oh no, no, no. You aren’t immune, but you’ve gotten better at handling it, hiding it. And for that, you’re pretty proud of yourself. Kim Taehyung is a hard man to resist.

You were pleased to find, upon engaging in that initial conversation, that Taehyung wasn’t just a pretty face—he had many interests and hobbies, most if not all of which aligned with your own. The most notable of these, was an interest in the paranormal. When you’d first mentioned it casually, feeling gingerly for how your keen interest would be received before opening yourself up about it, you’d been surprised at the more than eager response you’d received. His eyes had lit up, and something curled and gleamed behind them but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what—a sense like he was smiling to himself registered in your mind but you dismissed it quickly. The more extroverted of the two of you, he’d had no problem diving deep into the topic and dragging you with him.

You can’t really remember any of the finer details of how exactly you’d gotten from point A to point B, but by the end of the semester you were closer friends than you’d ever anticipated and recording the first episode of many to come of your very own paranormal investigation vlog series.

Admittedly, investigating paranormal hot spots and haunted places is something you’ve always thought about and an idea you’ve always toyed with, ever since you were younger, but you’ve always been too much of a… well, too much of a pussy. Something about Taehyung, though, had you changing your mind and agreeing to go through with it. You don’t want to be sappy and say that you feel safer around him, or any of that garbage… except you kind of do. Perhaps it’s less that you feel safer, because some of the locations you’ve been have definitely made you feel anything but—perhaps it’s more so that you feel even if things go haywire, Taehyung is capable of protecting you.

That sounds even sappier than what you were trying to avoid, damn it.

All of that aside, the two of you managed to establish yourselves pretty early on as a strong paranormal investigation team on a few different streaming sites—aptly and humourously called Mystery Gang; Unsolved, after a night spent drinking where you lost a bet to Taehyung and he got naming rights. Despite the odd name, over the years you’ve been doing this, you’ve managed to build up quite an impressive fanbase. A part of you likes to think it’s because you’re so damn funny, but really you know that it’s because Taehyung is drop-dead gorgeous and there’s a solid ratio of about eighty-twenty of females to males that watch your vlogs—and you know Taehyung has all the females and about half the males in the bag as well. Not good odds for you for finding a partner in either gender, really. It’s fine. You’re content with the odd comment directed to you among thousands. You’re fine. Really.

It’d be a bit hypocritical of you to be upset about the sheer amount of individuals attracted to Taehyung since you, too, happen to be sitting quite decisively in his bag as well. Sue you.

“Are you gonna clean the camera or sit there staring into space for a while longer? I know we’re kind of freelance, but we still have a window we gotta grab, you know. The witching hour isn’t at ten in the morning.”

Jerked from your reminiscing, you immediately slide Taehyung the stink-eye. He’s awfully rude for someone so attractive, you can’t help but note and grumble internally.

“How about you clean the cameras? Ever since we’ve arrived you’ve been sitting around doing nothing!”

There’s not an ounce of bite in your tone, and you feel like even if there was it would have rolled right off Taehyung’s shoulders as he shrugs, grinning lazily. His pose on the hotel bed has shifted, now his long form is draped indolently across the surface, elbow propped on the mattress and hand cupping his cheek. His long lashes brush his cheeks as he blinks slowly at you.

“I don’t need to stress-clean, I know we have this in the bag,” he says, lips curling as he speaks in his usual low drawl. “You were so nervous the second we got here that I thought if I tried touching anything you’d simply burst into smoke or something.”

The male’s reference to your odd cleaning habits irks you, but only slightly and only because it’s true. The rest of what he said is true, too. As much as you’d like to complain, cleaning your equipment meticulously and probably more than needed has been doing wonders for your nerves. You always tend to have a healthy, respectful dose of fear with every location you visit, but for some reason your nerves seem to be off the charts, tonight.

Perhaps it’s because you’re visiting a church. You always hate it when the haunted location is a church. Something about somewhere meant to be so holy becoming so desecrated that evil spirits haunt it… you don’t like it.

You sit for a moment, feeling your face contort as you assess the nauseous feeling beginning to churn in your stomach. Instead of answering his previous comment, you allow your thoughts to spill from your lips, somewhat distractedly. “I don’t… have a good feeling about tonight.”

Your words must be somewhat unexpected, as silence follows for a few moments after they enter the air. You regain control of your gaze where it had been centred on nothing, directing it towards the male on the bed. Taehyung’s eyes are on you, and you swear you catch something akin to a flicker of concern flitting across his features, before the tension leaves his face and he slaps on a silly grin.

"If ghosts and ghouls were real, y/n, you'd almost be begging them to haunt you," he quips, brows quirking in a sly manner. "Them's invitin' words, darlin'."

You're not sure what weird-ass accent he just pulled out of his rectum, but you're definitely sure your body shouldn't have reacted as shamefully into it as it just did. You throw a glare his way to mask the way you just shivered, at a damn pet name of all things, and turn back to cleaning your lens. He laughs, and you resign yourself for the millionth time to the fact that you'll probably never stop being so affected by him.

"Oh yeah? Well it really sounds like you're inviting a smack right now, mister. Don't make me break out the sandal."

At that, Taehyung bursts into loud laughter, flopping back onto the bed to let out his howling cackles unhindered. You can only sit and shake your head as you continue to rub your equipment clean, fighting a smile but allowing the fondness of the moment to sink in and cover the weight in your stomach.

Taehyung isn't worried, so you probably shouldn't be either.

X x x x

"You're a monster."

Your gaze is petulantly pointed out the window, but you can feel Taehyung fighting a smile from the driver's seat. It's almost silent in the cabin, aside from the low hum of the car beneath you and the smooth sound of slow r'n'b thrumming from the speakers. You do like that about Taehyung's choice in cars; he always managed to find some with excellent speakers for the bass-y songs the two of you enjoy listening to.

"You said you didn't want them!" Taehyung protests, a slight whine to his voice. Oh, he thinks he can get out of trouble by acting cutesy? The absolute nerve.

“No! I didn’t!” You’re affronted, unable to help the way you turn in your seat to pin him with an incredulous glare. “I said I was going to give them a break while I had some of my thickshake! I didn’t say you could have them!”

“You left your fries alone for more than a minute, what was I supposed to do? Let them go cold?”

“It wasn’t an invitation! Honestly, how could you… after all we’ve been through?”

Taehyung makes a choking noise, and you presume it’s because he’s trying not to laugh. You haven’t broken character yet—despite the fact you’re genuinely a little miffed that he finished off your fries while your back was turned earlier—so if he does before you, then he loses. The two of you are far too competitive for this to be anything but normal in your friendship.

"I can't help it," Taehyung says at last, apparently having managed to squash his laughter for a while longer. "They looked so good sitting there, so tempting... I was only going to take one, but you know I can't help myself when I see something I want."

As your eyes train on the scenery beyond the window as it blurs past, you snort, unable to help but quip playfully, "Glutton."

Taehyung finally lets a laugh loose, the sound rich and low, an almost indecipherable smile curling his lips at the corners. "Not the only sin I'm guilty of, but definitely the big hitter."

You roll your eyes, deciding you don't need to add anything more to that since it's definitely true. Sometimes you find it a little odd, how the two of you managed to become friends when you're both so different in subtle but significant ways. It isn't unusual to be unable to reach Taehyung some weekends, which you'd found out through a mutual friend (Yoongi, his roommate and an absolute tattletale whose loyalty is easily bought with wine and lamb skewers) was due to the fact he either didn't come home or brought someone else home. That knife had hurt when it entered your back, but you weren't, and still aren't, in any position to actually be upset about it. Taehyung's often extracurricular activities are probably one of the biggest differences between the two of you; not because you've never gone out or done things, no, but you've never been one to be comfortable with a stranger in your bed every other night. You're not so much into flings and one night stands, as Taehyung seems to be.

Another difference is probably the fact that despite the fact you're a definite ambivert and not one to shy from social situations, you've never actually met anyone as blatantly extroverted as Taehyung. His aura and presence are truly something else; all he has to do is step into a room for all attention to be drawn immediately to him, and for it to stick for the entirety of the time he's there. His confidence is unshakeable, and you think that probably has a lot to do with it. It's as though he has this sense of assurance in himself that no matter what a situation could throw at him, no matter which way it could turn and end up, he can get through it and come out right on top. It's impressive, you admire him for it, but also in a way... it's a little bit unnerving. Slightly intimidating. You can't put your finger on it, but sometimes it feels like there's something more to that confidence, something you're not quite aware of but lingers just under the surface of what he shows you.

He's a bit of an enigma, your Taehyung. You've known him for what feels like so long, and you know enough about him to fill about three encyclopedias, but at the same time... it feels like there's so much you don't know, an ocean behind each page you file away in your mind. It's like the difference between possessing a painting or a photograph of the sea, and actually standing on the shore with your feet in the sand, basking in the beauty of it in person.

Now that you think about it, the ocean is probably the best metaphor you could've chosen for describing Taehyung.

"You still nervous?"

Taehyung's inquiry, somewhat softly spoken but unmissable with how primed you are to hear him, is what pulls you from your light reverie. Blinking and interrupting your gaze where it was staring into the darkness beyond the window, you turn to the male and allow yourself a moment to analyse his features.

Taehyung is one tough cookie to read, you have to admit. He's expressive, sure, but sometimes you feel he has a bit more to offer in terms of what he's thinking and feeling at the moment. You've yet to crack that code but you'll get it one day, you know it.

Currently, his eyes are directed forward (as they should be-- he's been threatened many times with a smack whenever he lets his eyes stray even an millimetre while driving), but what you can observe of his side profile is a somewhat neutral expression. You're used to looking a little closer though, and when you do you find the barest creases of concern at the corner of his eye, brows drawn together just slightly. Aw, he's actually a little concerned for you. How sweet.

"Well, yeah," you answer after a moment, forcing your eyes away from his face and averting them back out the window as you lift a hand to rub the back of your neck. "But I mean, when aren't I? I don't think we'd have a show if both of us were skeptics."

The male hums, shaking his head to dislodge a silvery lock of hair that has fallen across his forehead. "That's true. I guess then we'd really be relying on my face for viewers, huh?"

Somewhat outraged, you let out an angry noise and hit his arm— just the reaction he was looking for. He snickers, still distracted as he watches the road and takes in the signs as he passes them. Sooner than you expect, he's flicking on the indicator and taking a left, down a road that is more dirt than tarmac and feels like it's leading nowhere good. The nerves that had left you momentarily, courtesy of the good mood eating put you in, return now in full force— twisting and writhing and tightening in the pit of your stomach. You take in a deep breath, the exhale a little shaky. Taehyung's eyes flick to you for the barest moment before they return to the front.

Trees line each side of the road, the twenty-plus minute drive having taken you a slight ways out of town. Beyond the trees at the edge of the road, you know there are miles and miles of fields; the odd house is scattered around, of course, but you know that the locals are far too wary of this little area to want anything to do with it, despite the acreage on offer.

The road twists and winds just barely, before Taehyung pulls the car into a partially obscured driveway on the right and you gulp, feeling more nervous than ever. The headlights drill holes of illumination into the pitch black, casting across blurred greenery and bushes for a moment before finally falling upon something lighter and firmer. Stone basks in the ray of the headlights, and gleaming glass windows just barely beyond the light's edge.

"We're here," Taehyung announces in a singsong manner, seeming entirely too happy about your arrival at what you consider to be one of the most cursed destinations you've included in your travels. The car rolls to a stop, Taehyung's large hand pulling the handbrake up and deciding your fate. You feel the weight in your stomach sink further.

Well, no time like the present. If you're gonna die in here, you may as well go on and get it over with.

x x x

The first ever haunted house that you explored with Taehyung, was probably the scariest.

Before becoming friends with him, and subsequently being roped into forming a paranormal investigation duo, you’d never stepped foot in a haunted or otherwise allegedly supernaturally afflicted building. Of course, you’d read your fair share of online accounts and retellings, and watched more investigative programs than is probably healthy, but even you are capable of telling what has been dramatically exaggerated and digitally edited. Before that first house, you’d sort of teetered on the edge of scepticism and being a believer. You were open to the idea, but weren’t cemented in your beliefs. That first house pushed you decisively from the middle and into one of those sides.

Your biggest regret is that you didn’t have the proper equipment to record what you witnessed that night. Since you were just starting out, all you really had was a crummy recording device and a handheld camera, in addition to your phones. Kind of humiliating, in hindsight. How on Earth had people taken you seriously back then?

Everything had gone fine, up until the point where the two of you decided it would be a neat idea to spend a few minutes alone in the most ‘haunted’ room of the house. Before then you were having fun, but you weren’t exactly convinced anything paranormal inhabited the place. In the middle, you remained. Taehyung had been somewhat distracted as you went, but not so much that he didn’t manage to slip in the odd witty quip. Sometimes, you’d turned and caught him staring into space for a few moments longer than expected, before he was once more moving on. You’d figured he was just deep in his thoughts.

As you’d ventured through the house, there were a few little things you both observed, but they were also easily dismissible things; items falling as you moved past them, creaking sounds, windows and curtains moving, shadows out of the corner of your eye. Nothing solid and material, and some to be expected when you were moving about an old, creaky abandoned building with no light save for some battery-powered torches and the flashlights on your phones.

Nothing that would hold up as evidence—at least, nothing until you entered that room alone.

The basement, said to have been where the most activity was and where some not-so-nice things went down while the house was still occupied, was the final stop of your little investigative tour. You’d originally planned to go in there together, but a small argument about jelly beans led to the proposal of going in there one at a time, and spending a few minutes in there alone in an attempt to get some interaction from any spirits that might be there.

From the very second you set foot on the first step, you’d known intrinsically that the experience you were about to have wasn’t going to be a good one. Your skin had crawled even then; it was as though you’d stepped into a freezer instead of a basement, immediately chilled to the bone with the air weighing so heavy against your body that each step was an effortful struggle. You’d been nervous before going down, yes, but this… it was different. Before you could have even turned to act on your second thoughts, the basement door had closed behind you with a final, resounding thud.

“Go down to the bottom! Your five minutes starts now.”

You’d felt disproportionately scared as you reluctantly continued your trek to the bottom, as you’d originally intended. It was colder at the foot of the stairs, if possible, and the small torch in your hand had started to flicker. It smelt rotten, too, and the further into the room you went the stronger the smell. For the first time since entering the house, you felt unsettled, for reasons almost indiscernible.

Some of them became clear to you as soon as the beam of your torch illuminated over the walls.

Deep scratches in the cement and brick, sigils and symbols drawn across the expanse of the wall. Something akin to black sludge was smudged intermittently across places, dripping from cracks and oozing from gaps in the ceiling. There was a disrupted circle on the floor, dark maroon flakes and drops of wax scattered and highlighting more smudged symbols and lines. A copper bowl lay turned over and discarded, its apparent contents scattered across the floor; bones, dried leaves and flowers, rocks, a tooth. You hadn’t even realised how your breath had begun to speed up, chest tightening. Of course, you’d tried to calm yourself and rationalise— someone just did this for a prank, they planted these things to feed the stories.

But then you’d felt a gust of hot air against the back of your neck, so stark in contrast to the chill of the room. Alarmed, you’d jerked, and your torchlight had moved with the flinch of your arm. It whipped over shapes veiled objects in the room, angles creating deep shadows that seemed to have no end, and you’d managed to look up just in time to catch sight of something as it was illuminated in the corner; a long shape, a silhouette, present in the light just long enough for you to see the gleam of two eyes staring right at you—

The torchlight flickered off in tandem with the sensation of your heart dropping through your stomach; something hot and sharp dragged across your sternum, and driven by nothing but fear and instinct you threw yourself back—or had you been thrown? A voice, disembodied in the pitch black, had grated the outskirts of your ears, warped and distorted and registering in your senses in such a way that even now, you can’t be sure whether you’d really heard it or not.

“A human girl walking right into my den… And you smell so good too. Won’t you stay, girl? I hunger.”

You don’t recall screaming, but as you would be informed later, apparently you did. You’d stumbled backwards, crashing into a number of items and feeling something grip your arm. It burned, and of course you’d jerked away once more.

Whether it was the ruckus or your own sounds that concerned your companion, the basement door had quickly been thrown open and Taehyung had bolted down the stairs. Disoriented, you weren’t even aware of where you’d stumbled in the room once your torch had gone out, but when you’d looked up to see Taehyung darting over to you, the room now illuminated, you’d been several metres from where you’d first stopped.

As Taehyung would tell you later, you were shaking as you sat there, partially curled into a ball on the floor. Your torchlight had been all the way on the other side of the room, and your phone a few feet away. He says that when he asked you what had happened, you’d only babbled incoherently, somehow simultaneously telling him off and yet clinging to him in distress.

Your memory of events after that scare is a little hazy, but you do recall that he’d surveyed your form, freezing as his eyes fell upon your arm. When you’d looked down, you’d caught blood trickling down from three irregular lesions across your bicep, the entire flesh of your upper arm red and inflamed and sore, yet in the cold of the room somehow still numb. Despite the horrified look on Taehyung’s face, and the way he’d fussed over your wound from that point onward, he was quick to dismiss it.

“You must have cut it on something when you were tripping about,” he’d said later, once you were out of the house with all your things packed away, back in the safety of the hotel room. His touch had been nothing short of tender as he cleaned and dressed the cuts that just would not stop oozing blood. Perhaps that night, is when you’d really first begun developing feelings for Taehyung. That hadn’t stopped you being secretly frustrated at his words, though. “There were a lot of sharp things down there, I’m not surprised you managed to cut yourself on one of them.”

Even as, days later, the red welts on your arm developed into bruises—long and thin, like imprints of spindly fingers that had wrapped around your arm— and the cuts didn’t heal quite as they should, Taehyung stuck with that story. He insisted on being the one to take care of the wound and still insisted you’d just bumped into something lying about down there in the basement. Once, you’d gone to tell him exactly what you’d seen and heard, but thought better of it. You’d just be annoyed when his sceptical ass tried to dismiss and rationalise it. It didn’t help that the recording you had of the experience had somehow corrupted on your phone.

Oddly enough, ever since that first house you’ve never gotten as scared, or witnessed anything quite like it. It kind of makes you wonder—did you hallucinate it? Was your brain just overactive and scared, and making you see and hear things that weren’t there? You think about it a lot, an especially every time you venture into a new location. Like now, as you’re in the entry of the church and preparing to film the introduction segment of your little vlog.

“Lot on your mind, babygirl?”

Flinching and feeling your cheeks heat as they usually do whenever Taehyung hits you playfully with that particular pet name, you break from your thoughts to send him a glare.

“Only the usual amount,” you answer, a hand coming to unconsciously rub your arm where those cuts had first appeared. They’d never quite healed as expected, didn’t scar as things usually do on your skin. Normally you heal pretty seamlessly, but those scratches had healed in three pink lines, not raised but stark on your skin. Sometimes you think you feel them ache and sting, but it’s just a phantom pain. More often than not, they’re just a bit itchy.

“Camera is ready to go, are you?” Taehyung inquires, holding up the hand-held and leaning around it to flash you a cheeky smile. He has a torch attached to his headband, and combined with the light of the torch attached to the strap over your chest and the torches attached to each camera, the entrance of the building where you stand is somewhat illuminated. It is, admittedly, in a poor state. Cement and brick are in various states of disrepair, the odd piece crumbling whenever you move past. You’re actually more worried about a part of the ceiling falling on you tonight than anything paranormal. Although, you suppose you’d developed a bit of a stronger resistance over the years. These days, as Taehyung says, your bravado is through the roof.

You hold your thumb up for him, waiting for his subsequent nod and the blinking of the light above the camera lens that tells you it’s on and running. As soon as you get the signal, you slip a smile onto your face.

“Hello and welcome to another episode of Mystery Gang; Unsolved,” you launch right into the introduction, the name of your little duo coming easier every time you say it. At this point, there’s almost no resistance at all; you’re barely embarrassed by it these days. “Today we’re here in a small town on the East Coast, and we’re investigating the abandoned and allegedly ‘haunted’ grounds of FigTree Church.”

Taehyung has a small smile on his lips as he watches you talk, something you catch as you glance down at your phone for the notes you have prepared. Awfully cheeky he is, as always.

“Now, you might be thinking—that’s quite an odd name for a church, right? Doesn’t it have an official name, something a little bit more proper? Well, no, actually.” You shift, taking a few steps to your left and bringing your arm up to gesture to the rest of the church. It’s pitch black, and you ignore the way the hairs on your arm begin to stand. “This church, nestled in the corner of FigTree Pocket and hidden away from the rest of the world, was never given a name. And when we investigated further, we found that there was never actually any record of this church in any registry or archive for this region.”

“For our research, we had to turn to the townsfolk and some ledgers hidden deep in the town library to unearth just what this church is and what happened that earned it the reputation as one of the most haunted locations on the East Coast.” You pause briefly, glancing to your notes. “As it turns out, the reason there are no records of this church and no name ever given to it, is because this church… was technically never meant to exist.”

Taehyung makes a surprised face, and you sense a question oncoming. “Allegedly, this church, built in the late 1800s, was formed in secret by a small faction that split from the branch residing in the nearby capitol. There is no consensus as to whether the original branch is Catholic or Christian, or something else, and a lot of the lore surrounding it is more hearsay than actual recorded facts. What is known for sure, though, is that this church was formed and built in secret, operating under forged papers and fostering a religion that didn’t quite fit any preconceived ideologies that were around at the time.”

“So this was, like, an extremist sort of situation? They didn’t quite agree with the workings of their original church so they went and made their own?” Taehyung speaks as soon as you leave him a gap, looking at you with intrigued eyes and a shit-eating grin from behind the camera. “Exactly what kind of things did they get up to in here that they needed the place to stay a secret?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you say, referring to your notes for a brief moment before continuing. “Apparently, according to stories passed down through generations in this town and some accounts in the town history books, some pretty dark shit went down in here.”

Taehyung tilted his head, sweeping the camera over the rest of the room before centring it back on you with a shrug. “I could see it. What kind of sins are we speaking here?”

“Well, some stories are more believable than others,” you offer. “The less popular ones say that this was less of a church and more of a cannibalistic cult. Others—”

“Cannibalistic cult?!” Taehyung sputters, lowering the camera slightly so he can meet your eyes over the top of it. “Are you for real—?!”

“Yup,” you affirm, fighting a smile. “The next best one after that says that this wasn’t a real church, but a cover for a satanic cult that operated in the night time hours. Apparently they performed their rituals either in the basement, the attic, or a secret room behind the altar.”

Taehyung chortles at that, the denim jacket he has on over a dark hoodie making a loud scuffle as he slaps a hand to his stomach in his laughter. You’re glad he’s amused by what you’re saying, as usual. “This is great. I wonder whether we’ll find skulls or pentagrams.”

“I don’t know which is worse,” you admit, rolling your eyes when he laughs again. “Anyway, those are just outliers. The consensus on the history of this place is a bit of a different tale, actually. Still kind of dramatic, though.”

Taehyung hums to urge you on, gaze flicking to the side for a moment at a particularly loud chirp of a cricket. You shift where you stand, retreating closer to the wall—you don’t like the feeling of having your back to the expanse of darkness.

“From what I was able to gather, most people say this operated as a normal church for a few years. They held mass, you know, did the usual church things. The common thread that everyone mentioned, though, is kind of in line with what you said earlier. In a sense, the principles of this church were kind of extremist, and very misogynistic, moreso than you usually see from the old days. The women that were part of this church were apparently treated no better than property, in-home slaves expected to sit and be pretty, cook, clean and bear children.”

Taehyung winces, apparently noticing the unimpressed tone to your voice. “So if the ghost of one of the pastors is here, you’re gonna beat him up?”

“Maybe so,” you utter, shooting him a sly smile. “But don’t you wanna know what the big happening was? What really gave this place a name—well, I guess it didn’t give it a name, but it did give it a reputation.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, silvery strands of hair flicking from the motion of his head. “Of course, why else do you think I do these little investigations.”

“For the ghouls?” you suggest, grinning in anticipation for the face you know he’s going to make in response. He doesn’t fail to deliver, and you let out a laugh before continuing your initial spiel.

“Like I was saying, for a while this operated like a normal church. There were pastors and priests, and proceedings as normal. But before long, their operations were brought to a screeching halt.” A glance to your notes, then a somewhat nervous glance over your shoulder. “In what would unknowingly be its final year, the church was to hold a wedding. Meena Law, the daughter of two dedicated churchgoers, was to be wed on November 1st, 1899— to a man her parents chose, who was twice her age and, according to accounts of the time, quite an unsavoury character, but someone of a high standing within the church.”

“Oh yuck,” Taehyung utters, almost making you break character and smile.

“Unlike her parents, Meena wasn’t content and complicit with the rules and principles of the church. She was against the wedding from the beginning and fought it with everything she could. It was no use, however, and by the time the eve of her wedding arrived, she was desperate.”

Your thumb scrolls across your notes, and you take a breath. You’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but you think the air feels a little colder suddenly; you have to fight a shiver from rolling down your spine. “Here is where the stories diverge a little. One account says that what happened in this chapel was nothing but a tragic accident. As she walked up the aisle in her wedding dress and arrived at the altar to stand beside her would-be husband, the heavily embellished wrought-iron chandelier came loose above them and fell, crushing the two of them and the minister officiating the marriage—who happened to be head of the church at the time, Lui Fonset.”

“The chandelier is actually still over there on the floor, glass shards and rusty metal and all,” you supply, pointing your flashlight in the direction of the altar. You don’t like the way it gleams beneath the torchlight.

“Wait, they never cleaned it up?” Taehyung joined you in shining his torch in that direction. He let out a soft noise of interest. “They just decided that’s it? They’re gonna leave it there?”

You snort. “Actually, this incident seemed to be the beginning of the end for them. Understandably, the tragedy of three deaths within their church, their head included, was quite a blow. It took a while before they gathered themselves and attempted to fix the place up.”

Taehyung shoots you a curious if somewhat confused look. “But they didn’t…?”

You shine your torch in his face to be annoying, and he levels you with a glare. The harshness of the light makes the dark brown of his irises gleam reddish-brown. You ignore the way your neck tenses as a result.

“They didn’t,” you confirmed, “But it wasn’t for lack of trying. This church sat in disrepair for a short while, vacated and momentarily abandoned, but the remaining churchgoers returned to fix it up. No one ever managed to, though, because ever since that fatal incident, it would seem that any activities within the church walls would be met with the most unfortunate, awful luck.”

“To paraphrase an account from one of the townspeople, it was like the building had obtained a life of its own and was hellbent on fighting back against anyone that stepped on the grounds. Windows shattered right as people walked beneath them, pews fell and chunks of statues weakened at just the right times. Some people also reported hearing things, seeing things, feeling things that made them feel so uncomfortable they left and refused to return to the site.”

“Is it the ghosts of Meena and the two that died with her?” Taehyung queries, going for a quick pan of the room beyond the little entrance nook. Rotting pews lined the large space, some reduced to splinters and others weak and sagging. None were in neat order and a few of them were sprinkled with glass and stone and dust—oh, the dust.

“That’s what some say.” You shrug. “But there is another version of the events that happened here. It’s a little more interesting but since we are here tonight, I think I like it a little less.”

Your companion was curious now. “What is it?”

“The night before her wedding, Meena was desperate. So desperate, in fact, that she would have done absolutely anything to stop the marriage—and some say that, in her darkest hours that night, she was driven to do the unspeakable.” You pause, because you know that Taehyung is about to take the piss out of what you’re about to say. “Some say, that on Hallows Eve, the night before she was to be wed, Meena performed a ritual to summon a demon, and then made a deal with him to ensure that the wedding wouldn’t go through.”

Your eyes flick to Taehyung’s face but surprisingly, he doesn’t seem like he’s about to make fun of you. Instead, he seems deep in thought, staring blankly for a moment as he’s consumed by whatever is on his mind. Odd. Usually he’s well on his way to making fun of you by now. He knows you’re especially scared of demons.

“Of course, as is usually the case in stories like these, it seems that Meena wasn’t aware of the little loophole she provided,” you say, preparing to continue before Taehyung speaks suddenly and cuts you off.

“She left it too open,” Taehyung says, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. “I mean, the wedding was stopped, but at what price? Amateur.”

“Don’t insult the ghosts,” you say, more of an automated, habitual utterance than anything at this point. “And yeah, that’s how the story goes. The unfortunate nature of her death and the despair of her last moments allegedly caused her to linger, whatever soul she had left attached to this place. It’s said that the spirits of the priest and the groom are here too—different sort of entities, apparently. People report a range of weird occurrences in this building, some antagonistic and some merely… supernatural. But they’re not the only presence rumoured to be here that gives this place such a foreboding reputation.”

Taehyung’s head tilts, before his eyes light up in realisation. “Oh, the demon? But how would he be here? Aren’t they meant to be unable to enter holy places such as this?”

For some reason, you swear you detect the slightest bit of humour in Taehyung’s tone. You raise your brows at him, but answer his question anyway. “Yeah, that’s usually the case, I guess. There are a few theories as to why a demon could enter here. First, some people propose that it’s because this was never a legitimate church. Which… I think makes a bit of sense. The second theory that floats around is that when she summoned the demon, she actually did it within the church walls. I mean, I’d think that wouldn’t work, but hey, maybe it did.”

Taehyung purses his lips in thought. “Hmm, I think it could work. Maybe it’s a big boss demon.”

You roll your eyes, locking your phone and sliding it into your pocket. “If that’s the case, I don’t wanna hear about it. I don’t need to be thinking about high level demons lingering in the halls as I walk through a haunted church, thank you very much.”

Taehyung lets out a laugh, passing you your own camera. You turn to the one currently in his hold, offering a smile that you can feel has somewhat of a nervous tinge this time around.

“Alright, lets go catch some ghosts!” you cheer, feeling like you’re painting a target on your own back, as you usually do. Taehyung nods, smiling to himself as he cuts the camera for a break before you both begin recording and venturing through the church.

“I hate this,” you murmur into the sudden silence, rubbing your arms as a wash of cold air touches your skin. “Why do we always have to film at night? Late at night? In the dark and cold?”

Taehyung snorts, stepping over and slinging an arm over your shoulder somewhat distractedly as he fiddles with settings on his camera, hand rubbing your arm. The action brings out a wave of butterflies in your stomach that you don’t even bother to quell.

“Everyone knows ghouls only come out at night,” he chuckles, flicking wavy strands out of his face. “Demons too.”

You groaned, already feeling much worse than earlier about the night ahead of you. This wasn’t going to be fun in the least for you. Before you’d entered the church, the crickets in the forestry outside had been loud, almost as though they were screaming at you to leave, attempting to ward you away (maybe you’re reading a little too much into it). In here, though, you can barely hear them. Only softly, subtly; whispers of the living world outside slipping in through the broken glass and crumbling stone. In contrast, it’s very still in here—and very cold. Probably from the stone and brick. You slip your arm around Taehyung’s waist for warmth, grinning at the way he jumps and looks to you in surprise.

“Bold of you,” Taehyung wags his eyebrows. “How am I supposed to seduce the ghosts if they think I’m taken?”

“Dirty ghostfucker,” you utter, instantly annoyed enough that you don’t feel like using him for body heat anymore. You pinch his side and withdraw, turning your camera on and moving towards the large room beyond the entrance. Taehyung laughs when you stumble over a piece of rotten wood. Great.

If you don’t end up dying in here tonight, then you just might end up killing Taehyung instead.

Taehyung fires up his cameras once more, his torchlights aiding in illuminating your path as he follows behind you. Right, on with the tour you go.

a/n: pls let me know what u think and pls heart or rb if u read and liked it!!! it helps me know how many people have interacted and enjoyed it!!

masterlist | next⇥

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suga-kookiemonster · 5 years

Text

muse | kth

summary⇢ this could finally be tae’s big break, but he’s nervous and struggling to find inspiration. luckily, you’re willing to support him in all ways necessary. pairing⇢ taehyung/reader word count⇢ 2.5k rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | fluff | artist!au warnings⇢ sexual content, pwp, dom!tae, smoking, oral (f+m giving/receiving), overstimulation, forced orgasm, deepthroating

a/n⇢ this got sappier than i intended, but i guess i’m in my feelings again 😂 idk what this is, but hope you enjoy anyways 💜

mood is this 🤪

You always know exactly when Taehyung is at work, the spicy-sweet aroma wafting from his studio and lingering throughout your whole apartment, despite the open window he is no doubt smoking next to. It’s a bad habit that you normally would never tolerate, but Taehyung only smokes when he’s hit a creative roadblock.

“It helps me concentrate,” he had told you around the time you had started dating, when you had wrinkled your nose in disgust at the cigarette between his lips. “I’m not really sure why...but it really helps me focus and move forward with a piece.”

It has been a long time since you’ve been met with the pungent scent of cloves when you toed off your shoes at the front door, but your boyfriend is understandably nervous. At his showcase a few weeks ago, a handsome stranger in an expensive, well-tailored suit complimented his work and handed him a business card with the intention of commissioning him for multiple pieces. When you had seen the name stamped on the card, your eyes had bugged out of your head.

“Kim Seokjin?” you had gaped. “As in Kim Seokjin, CEO of Kim Enterprises? The conglomerate that owns the entire city, Kim Seokjin?!”

Taehyung had replied with his signature wide, boxy smile, pulling you in for an excited kiss. Because this was sure to be his big break, and he was ready, had been ready ever since he had graduated from art school $80,000 in debt. Kim Seokjin was decorating one of his newly-opened branch offices downtown, and he wanted Taehyung to help fill the walls. It was the kind of thing that only happened in movies!

But unfortunately, your talented boyfriend didn’t anticipate his muse going on vacation right when he needed it most. And so the fragrant evidence of his frustration hasn’t quite left your apartment in weeks.

Lately, the scent has been relatively short-lived, Taehyung tamping out the cigarette before he can really get any good use out of it and then crawling into bed next to you in exasperation.

“Baby, don’t worry about it,” you hum, shuffling closer into his embrace as his hands immediately wrap themselves around you, a leg over your waist locking you in place. “It’ll come to you, don’t stress yourself out.”

But no matter how many times you reassure him, the little furrow in his brow doesn’t quite disappear.

In order to earn some extra cash between gigs, Taehyung tends to pick up shifts at his friend Jimin’s bar, his friendly nature and gorgeous face racking up ridiculous tips. But his nerves have been so shot over the Kim Seokjin job that these past few weeks he has stayed home instead, doing his best to paint something he doesn’t immediately want to hurl out the window. Willing himself to focus.

You come home one day exhausted, greeted with the strange aroma of cloves mixed with what you hope is your favorite dish from the Thai restaurant down the street. “I’m home,” you announce, wandering into the kitchen and relieved to see you were right. Curry is exactly what you need to help forget the terrible day you had.

You hear shuffling, and then he appears from the hallway—your boyfriend, in all his ridiculously beautiful glory. He’s wearing a large t-shirt and baggy sweatpants that are spattered with paint (some stains new, some old and resistant to your attempts of ridding them in the wash). His glasses are in disarray, and so is his hair, both likely tousled by irritated hands. He had spontaneously dyed his hair a bright blue a few weeks ago, but now the color has faded into a pretty seafoam green that Instagram models would commit first-degree murder to achieve.

The ultimate casual boyfriend look. Somehow, Taehyung still effortlessly manages to pull off a look that would only make you look like a homeless person.

“Hey baby. I got your favorite,” he greets you, leaning over to brush your lips with his. “How was your day?”

You’re too tired to even think of softening your words. “Garbage,” you mutter, grabbing a plate. “I’m glad it’s over.”

His brow furrows in concern. “What happened?”

“My boss gave Brian that promotion, even though he does nothing but sit on his ass and browse Tinder all day. I’m the one who always works late. I’m the one everyone relies on to get shit done.” You debate having a glass of wine to chill you out, but decide against it due to your pounding headache. “Honestly, I should have expected it. That place is nothing more than an old boys’ club.”

The quiet rage that overtakes Taehyung’s features makes you wonder if he is somehow more angry than you are. “_____, you’re overworked and underpaid. Why the hell do you keep letting them treat you this way? Why do you stay? You know they don’t deserve you—”

It’s a lecture he’s given you time and time again. But tonight, you’re much too upset to hear it. “Because we need to eat,” you snap.

Taehyung flinches.

You regretted the words as soon as they had left your lips. They’re true—at least one of you needs a stable income, and with an artist for a boyfriend, that duty naturally falls to you—but you know how guilty that fact makes him.

His suddenly contrite expression confirms that there was no need for you to point out the obvious. Tae is well aware.

You sigh deeply, your sudden lack of appetite making you push away your empty plate. You set your hand on his, linking your fingers together in apology. “I’m sorry baby, I just—I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna go to bed, okay? My head is killing me.”

His eyes soften. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Do you want me to bring you some tea?”

“I’m just gonna go to sleep,” you say, shaking your head with a tired smile.

He brings you the tea anyway, along with some ibuprofen. And not for the first time, you wonder how you managed to snag such a beautiful person, inside and out.

It’s unclear what it is exactly that wrenches you from sleep’s clutches—the intense heat coursing through your body or the sound of your own voice. But in any case, you’re suddenly awake and you’re cumming, a loud, whiny moan escaping your lips as your pussy clamps down on itself. Your hips move of their own accord, circling restlessly as you ride out your climax, and it’s not until you come down from your high that you’re able to recognize the warm, wet pressure darting against your netherlips.

Disoriented, you pull the covers back, confirming your suspicions. “Taehyung?”

He looks up from between your legs, mouth still attached to you and diligently lapping at your arousal. You have no sense of time—no sunlight filtering through your blinds to tip you off—but you also have no sense of what’s happening. “Tae, what—”

He silences you with a slow swipe of his tongue, making you jerk in sensitivity.

“Baby, give me a minute,” you tell him breathlessly. But he ignores you, wrapping his hands more securely around your hips and pushing his wet muscle through the seam. Forcing a groan from your throat as he suckles on your clit, his dark, intense gaze holding you obediently in place.

It doesn’t take much more for him to force another orgasm out of you, hips undulating as you ride his face. And this time when you come back to your senses, you attempt to scoot away, thinking that’s the end of it.

But Taehyung has made himself at home between your thighs, and his hands tighten around them, forcing them to stay open.

“Baby,” you say again, shivering as his hot breath races across your sensitive skin. It’s too much, too soon. “Baby, just hold on—”

Your words fall on deaf ears. Taehyung licks and nibbles and sucks, scraping his teeth over your swollen nub. He makes you cum, again and again, never letting up, never giving you a moment to catch your bearings. Just patiently gathering the fruits of his efforts across the flat of his tongue as your cunt weeps for him, sopping and swollen, repeatedly pushed to be as taut as a bowstring until he forces it to snap.

Your pussy isn’t the only thing that weeps—your eyes do too, tears springing from the corners as you cum so hard you almost can’t breathe, spots dancing in your vision. “B-Baby,” you wail, hands blindly scrabbling to push his face away from you. But Tae merely hums, the vibration making you jerk. Merely grabs your hands and pushes them back down to the bed.

Merely forces you to take it.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, subjected to this delicious torture. But it’s long enough for you to deliriously start sobbing. Long enough for it to hurt.

It’s on the tip of your tongue—trembling lips already parting to form the syllables of the word pomegranate—when your boyfriend finally detaches from you. His hair is mussed and glowy in the low light, and when he climbs his way up your body, you can see his lips are puffy and wet.

“I was hungry,” he murmurs in explanation. When his lips meet yours, you can taste yourself. “You did so well, baby. You taste so good.”

Taehyung traps you under his body, holding you close and littering your face with kisses. Swiping your tears with his thumbs and pressing his lips into the trails they leave behind. “I love you,” he breathes between his adorning. “Other people may not appreciate you, but I do. Never forget that, okay?”

You nod, thighs still quaking uncontrollably. His lips reach for yours again, and you receive them.

Taehyung seems to have some sort of breakthrough after that. For the next few days you barely see him, only really leaving the spare bedroom he uses as a studio to go to the bathroom. You check in on him whenever you come home from work, making sure he puts something in his stomach, as he tends to forget to eat during his artistic frenzies. And he distractedly greets you, mechanically chews the sandwiches you make him. Focus completely on the canvases scattered around the room, littered with various levels of paint.

And the scent of cloves begins to fade from your apartment.

There is one thing you’re worried about, however. Eating is not the only thing Taehyung tends to forget about—lately, he is not in bed when you go to sleep, and he is also not there when your alarm wakes you for work. You can’t tell if he’s getting any rest, but the shadows starting to linger beneath his eyes aren’t a good sign. Your calls of Tae, come to bed only evoke variations of in a minute, baby. And his side of the bed continues to stay cold.

One day you come home from work, surprised to be greeted with the familiar scent of his cigarette. And you know that enough is enough—he will run himself into the ground if you don’t intervene.

There’s one way you know of that will knock him out in ten minutes flat. So, determined, you enter his studio. He’s standing by the open window, exhaling smoke into the breeze, though he turns in your direction when he hears you.

You answer his distracted hello by dropping to your knees.

Taehyung’s eyes darken as your fingers tease the waistband of his sweatpants, and he takes a long pull on his cigarette when you free his length. When you drag your tongue down the hairs that trail from his bellybutton.

“Shirt. Off,” he growls lowly. Tendrils of spicy smoke escaping his lips at the demand.

And so now you’re topless, mouth stuffed with your boyfriend’s cock. He watches almost passively as you move over him, the embers of his cigarette glowing bright orange every time he inhales.

His hips surge forward, and you choke.

“Shhh,” he says quietly, almost to himself. He eyes you intently as you gag, fingers tightening in your hair. “You can take it, can’t you baby.”

You do your best to make an affirmative noise around the thickness of him as he continues to fuck into you, your eyes watering.

And the pulsing of your throat finally makes him lose his composure.

Taehyung rams himself down your throat as far as he can go, sweet smoke curling around both of you. Your obscene wet gargling easily filling the small room. And when he finishes, so much of his hot release fills your mouth that you struggle not to choke.

Breathing heavily, Taehyung pulls back, giving you more room to recover. Watching, pupils blown, as cum mixed with saliva oozes from the corners of your mouth. Drips down your face. Trails between your breasts.

He stamps out his cigarette.

“Things seem to be going well lately,” you comment one day, sitting in his lap and admiring his progress. Your fingers card through his green locks affectionately. “You haven’t smoked in weeks.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Yeah, I realized that doesn’t work anymore.”

You glance at him in surprise. “That’s always worked. If that doesn’t work anymore, what does?”

The dark look he shoots your way is the only warning you get. Taehyung reaches under your dress and yanks your panties to the side. You ride him slowly, chest to chest, until he gets frustrated and bends you over his worktable, errant paintbrushes rolling and falling to the floor at the force of his thrusts.

“I’m done,” he breathes, a large hand latching onto your hip and pulling you into his side. You both look over his handiwork. “I’m finally done.”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh in response. He quirks an amused eyebrow in question, and you shoot him a long look. “Taehyung, I’m legitimately starting to chafe, and I’m pretty sure I have lockjaw. I looked up the symptoms last night, and I’m pretty sure I have it.”

He grins. “I don’t think that’s how lockjaw works, babe.”

“Okay, but why would the internet lie to me?” Your eyes rove the canvases, breath catching at the emotion swirling through the colors, through the very brushstrokes. There is no doubt in your mind that Kim Seokjin will love it. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You honestly outdid yourself. These are all gorgeous.”

So focused on admiring the paintings, you don’t notice Taehyung admiring you.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, eyes soft. “They are.”

#taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts smut #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfic #bts scenario #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #husband #✨kim tag✨#fic: muse #🌊#mine

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imaredshirt · 6 years

Note

If you’re doing the fictional kiss prompt can I get an Imector post-cannon 12 or 3 or a mix of both? Pretty please with sugar on top? ❤️❤️

Fictional Kiss Prompts

3. kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s

12. a hoarse whisper “kiss me”

You sure can, nonnie! The kiss itself happens near the end, annnnd this got much longer and sappier and angstier than I’d anticipated, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

(also sorry for taking so long!!)

It was ridiculous, she thought, to be so strongly affected by a dream. But it had been the worst kind, the kind that felt so real, she’d woken up believing it to be reality.

In her dream, Héctor had suffered the Final Death. The white of his bones had dissolved into specks of orange, the very real weight of his body reduced to nothing in her arms.

She’d woken up clutching her hands to her chest, gasping, tears hot on her cheek bones. She’d turned to find the spot where Héctor had fallen asleep only hours earlier empty, and the nightmare had only felt more real.

As if the past three years had been the dream, and he had really died in her arms, and they hadn’t been together like the husband and wife they once had been.

As if he had been taken from her again to be hidden away until they found each other after so many years in some other realm, in some other lifetime, after ages spent alone.

She’d stared at the empty spot, aghast, and furious.

Imelda Rivera had been widowed once before, and she was going to fight whoever was trying to widow her again.

In the back of her mind she knew it was ridiculous to enact vengeance against something completely out of her control, but the horror of the nightmare was still fresh, and she’d needed to take action against something.

The hot tears slipping from her eyes were useless as she sat up in bed like a spring and got to her feet.

“Héctor!” She gasped, an unwanted tremble in her voice. “Héctor, where–”

“Imelda?” Came a worried response, and Héctor peeked around the curtains covering the open doorway to the balcony, where he had been standing watching the sunrise.The relief was immediate, but with the relief came tears, and Imelda left her bed to pull her husband into a hug, burying her face in the cool fabric of his shirt.

“Imelda–”

“You’re here,” she said around a rogue sob, and was immediately frustrated with herself. She’d intended to explain herself, but words spilled from her mouth without her permission. “You’re still here. Oh, Héctor, it didn’t take you. You’re still with me.”

“Sí,” Héctor said, a pained understanding coloring his voice. “I’m here, mi vida. I–I won’t leave you again, I promise–”

“No,” Imelda shook her head. He had misunderstood her. “No, amor, it was a dream. A terrible dream. I saw you fading, like–like dust in my arms. But it was just a dream. A horrible dream.” She chuckled and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Ay, I’m just being ridiculous, crying like a child–”

“No, no, Imelda,” Héctor said, and Imelda swore she could hear a tremble in his voice. Her dream had shaken them both. He ran a soothing hand down her loose hair and held her close. “You’re not being ridiculous. Dreams–dreams have very real effects on us. And the bad ones can do very real hurt. It’s ok to cry, Imelda. I’m here.”

She wondered if he knew his comforting presence and words only made her cry more. Sniffling and fighting another sob, she clung to him and let the tears fall.

Ridiculous, she thought. It was only a dream. She was a great-great grandmother. She was past crying over nightmares.

And years ago, she’d hated herself for crying over him. Every tear and gasping sob had been resented, and had felt like sour betrayal against herself. But now that he was with her again and the anger and hurt was behind them, the tears no longer brought fury. They brought relief.

It was ridiculous, but she didn’t care. She needed the tears.

Once she could open her mouth without fear of sobbing uncontrollably, she leaned back and looked up into Héctor’s worried gaze. In her dream, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes open, hadn’t been able to move. Now, as he looked down at her, she could see the brown of his eyes in the hazy light as the sun rose through the mist laying over the Land of the Dead.“Kiss me,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper in the dark of the room, and reached one hand up to cup his cheek. “Héctor, please–”Hector’s hands dropped to her waist, and he leaned forward until they were pressed as close as possible, pulling a whimper from her exhausted frame as he kissed along her cheekbone, down until he reached the faux red of her lips.His kiss was gentle, but Imelda deepened it, as if the deepest kiss would wash away the slivers of horror still pressing against her mind. She clung tight to him, pulling, until he was pressing forward, curving into her. She curled an arm around his shoulders and held tight.When he moved back to nuzzle her and whisper soft reassurances, Imelda ran her fingers through his hair. She was breathless again, but she wasn’t sobbing, and the horror in her mind was all but gone. But she still held onto him until the sun finally rose, the solid weight of his body reassuring against her, knowing that at least for now, and possibly for a long time, he would not be taken from her again.

#Anonymous #coco #imector #i hope this turned out ok!#i had planned on making it a lot more lighthearted but this just happened #thank you for the request!!!#prompt

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17mounteens · 7 years

Note

Could you do a fluff/smut w/ Vernon where he's really stressed out so you come by their dorm & make food for all the boys but while you're all eating he realizes you're wearing lingerie under your clothes and gets impatient so he excuses himself to have his way with you. Thanks!!

I decided to join this with a request where you surprise Vernon with lingerie, since I thought they were quite similar and fit together well! Hope you like the outcome 💓

» If you’re using the tumblr app and can’t see the scenario, which is under a “keep reading”, please try opening the post in your phone’s internet browser (or a computer)! 💕

» 4,530 words

Vernon had been stressed for quite a while - you could barely even remember how he was when he wasn’t perpetually tense and tired - and you had, for the longest time, tried to figure out how to help him relax, or at the very least blow off some steam. On occasion you had succeeded, too, with relaxing bubble baths, movie nights where you made sure all he focused on was the movie and you, and so many other things.

You had taken note that a blowjob or a good session where he could ram into you as hard as he felt like, however, seemed to have the best and most long-lasting effects, followed by good meals enjoyed in good company.

And so you figured out that with your boyfriend so stressed that he could snap at any given moment under the pressure of his fans’, groupmates’ as well as his own expectations, you might as well combine those two, and decided to go cook for the boys of Seventeen with a hidden surprise under your clothes.

After all, Vernon had by far not been able to hide how much he enjoyed to see you in a fine piece of lingerie: you’d never forget how astonished he looked the last time and how urgently he had had to get his hands on you that time.

You arrived outside of the dorm with a firm knock, two bags of groceries waiting next to the door, and waited for someone to open it up. Once Soonyoung had opened it, you picked up the bags and made your way into the dorm. “Y/N, what brings you here?”

“Just a little surprise,” you grinned, and Soonyoung lowered his gaze to the bags you were carrying while closing the door behind you.

“You came to cook for us? What a lucky day!” he exclaimed excitedly and ran off to the living room. “Guys, Y/N came to cook!”

You laughed to yourself when you heard the sounds of rejoicing come from the living room while you unpacked the bags in the kitchen, putting down packets of meat, ramen and everything else you knew the boys (and you) liked. When you felt arms wrap around your shoulders loosely, you shrieked and accidentally dropped a pack of ramen to the floor.

Vernon snickered, and you felt his lips on the back of your head. “Sorry, I just wanted to surprise you.”

“You should be thankful that wasn’t anything that could break,” you pouted and bent down to pick up the ramen when Vernon had unwrapped his arms. He leaned against the kitchen counter.

“We’ll pay for those soon,” he said, pointing at the pile of food you had bought, and smiled a little.

You took in how tense even that little smile was and how tired he looked, and frowned a little. Putting the ramen on the counter, you took Vernon into a hug, stroking his back slowly. “It’s fine, I don’t do this too often anyway.”

He chuckled as he hugged you back. “If you say so. Anyway… do you need help?”

Quirking your eyebrow playfully, you pulled away from the hug. “What, you wanna help me cook?”

“I was thinking about Mingyu, actually,” Vernon grinned and took a step back before you could smack his arm jokingly, laughing. He held his stomach as he laughed, a wide grin on his lips. “Honey, do you really want me anywhere near everyone’s food?”

You thought back to his more exotic food experiments and ended up giving him a soft smile. “…Maybe next time. But if Mingyu wants to help, I really could use a helping hand.”

He held you close for a while longer, his chin resting on your shoulder as he slowly relaxed in your arms. “I’ll go tell him.”

Not much later, when you had just started to cook, Mingyu came into the kitchen, grinning brightly. Pulling his sleeves up and clasping his hands together, ready to work, he came to stand next to you. “So what are we having today?”

“I think the ingredients say enough,” you giggled and pointed at the pile next to you, while you opened the third pack of ramen. Mingyu scanned through what you had brought, and felt his mouth get wetter when he saw a particular part of the pile.

“You got us meat,” he said, barely able to believe it, and made you yelp when he hugged you tightly. “Thank you!”

You laughed heartily at his candid reaction and continued putting noodles into the big pot in front of you. “You’re acting like you never get any of it.”

“It’s not the same,” Mingyu pouted and got a pack of meat that he then opened, letting out an appreciative hum. “It tastes better when it’s made by you.”

Squinting, you watched Mingyu get a pan. “You say ’made by you’ while you’re the one cooking it.”

“You know what I mean,” he said with a slight pout on his face before getting some meat onto the pan.

Little by little, you and Mingyu cooked for all fourteen of you, bickering every now and then like you always did and talking about some more serious things towards the end, such as how stressed some of the members were, including Vernon.

“I worry for him, you know,” you mumbled while getting bowls from one of the cupboards, and Mingyu nodded as he collected enough chopsticks for all of you.

“I know,” he said quietly and placed a hand on your slightly slumped shoulder. “But we keep an eye on him, so you shouldn’t worry too much. He’s alright, and most of that is because you’re in his life.”

You turned to Mingyu with sparking eyes and chuckled softly. “Stop before you get any sappier.”

Snickering, Mingyu nodded and carried some of the dishes to the dining area. You sighed, feeling a bit more ease after Mingyu’s words, and began carrying the food, although you two had to take it in several parts due to the huge amount of it.

Soon everything was set, much to everyone’s happiness, and you were seated comfortable around the large dining table. You and Mingyu were thanked for the food profusely, and you were just as pleased to see everyone enjoy the food as you were to enjoy it yourself - it was a lot more delicious than you had dared to anticipate.

After finishing his first plate, Vernon, sitting on your right side, placed a hand on your thigh and squeezed it lightly. You turned to look at him with a curious expression, only to see him smiling, this time more relaxedly. “The food’s really good.”

Leaning to get some more for yourself, you grinned. “I’m glad you like it.”

Vernon nodded and watched you, and as your shirt rose a little, he was surprised to see a very familiar, baby blue garment peek between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your pants. His eyes widened momentarily, and with his mind racing, he paid more care to your upper body in general. If he looked really carefully, he could see some frill under your shirt, right on your breast level, and now that he knew to look for it, it was almost obvious that the shirt wasn’t the only thing on you.

Oh, you were definitely wearing his favorite piece of lingerie under your clothes, and the knowledge had him burning. How he hadn’t noticed while hugging you was beyond him, but it was too late to think about it anymore.

You turned to him with a quirked eyebrow when his stare was painfully obvious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Vernon shook his head and turned away fast, sipping on his soda. “Got lost in my thoughts.”

Squinting your eyes a little, you nodded slowly, and returned to your food. Vernon couldn’t stop thinking about his new discovery, and having you so close to him didn’t help. Suddenly he was all too aware of how sexually frustrated he was and how badly he needed some relief - and how you most likely had the same thing in mind.

Taking in a deep breath, he placed his hand back on your thigh and leaned towards your ear. “So, I see you’ve got another surprise for me.”

You felt tingles run down your spine, although you were also the slightest bit upset that you didn’t get to surprise him the way you had wanted to. Either way, you grinned. “Like it?”

Vernon didn’t even reply - instead, he stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to sound as casual as he possibly could as he spoke. “Sorry guys, Y/N and I have things to talk through. Save me some food, okay?”

Seungkwan mumbled “That’s not an easy thing to promise”, while you stood up and followed Vernon to his room, excited about his reaction, which you had only half expected. You had thought he’d get impatient upon seeing you in the lingerie properly, but instead he had already gotten impatient at the mere thought of you in it. You couldn’t say you’d been disappointed.

He locked the bedroom door once you were both in, and you turned to look at him mischievously, your hands on your hips.

“Can’t resist me, huh?” you asked teasingly, biting your lip in excitement when Vernon closed the distance between you, his breathing heavy and his hands sliding under your shirt.

“Can I ever?” he asked huskily while touching the material of your lingerie, and then tugged at the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off?”

Chuckling, you lifted your arms a little. “You don’t even need to ask. There’s a reason I’ve got the lingerie on, baby.”

“Still,” Vernon whispered and got the shirt off you, tossing it to the floor. His eyes fell to your cleavage, more prominent than ever with how the lingerie was made, and he swallowed hard. “Holy shit.”

“Indeed,” you smirked and wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. “Are you going to just stare, or..?”

He shook his head, and after licking his lips, leaned down to close the distance between your lips. With his tongue sliding into your mouth without any difficulty, he got his thumbs under the waistband of your pants and pushed them down as far as he could without breaking your kiss, after which he placed his hands on your hips, on top of the thin, baby blue see-through fabric of your lingerie, and pulled you closer to himself.

You sighed while kissing him passionately - the mere knowledge of how needy Vernon was turned you on, and you were more than happy to know that if things proceeded at that pace, you’d both get what you most wanted in no time.

He started leading you towards the bed, and when he sat down, you broke free from him and got fully rid of your pants, which left you in the lingerie. Since it was rather see-through, it gave Vernon the perfect view of your breasts, and you had paired it with panties that had a small detail you knew he’d like.

With your lips curving into a smile, you turned around and walked to the light dimmer with your hips swaying as little. “I don’t think we need quite this much light.”

Vernon gawked when he saw the small detail of your panties, which was a few black strings going from the waistband to the leg holes, leaving most of your ass perfectly visible. He couldn’t help but wonder about one thing, and as you had turned the lights a bit dimmer and were walking towards him, he cleared his throat. “D-do those have anything else uncovered?”

Knowing exactly what he meant, you smirked while kneeling down in front of him, urging him to slide his pants and underwear down. “You’ll get to figure that out soon.”

He did as you wanted, and so with him supporting himself with his arms, you took his half-hard length into your hand and gave it a slow stroke that alone had Vernon’s toes curling.

“You really need this, don’t you?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as you could, even though feeling him harden in your hand made it incredibly difficult when all you wanted to do was to have him inside of you.

Vernon nodded vigorously and pursed his lips, adoring you as you leaned your face lower and planted a kiss to his shaft. He shivered, and you chuckled when you felt his legs shake a little.

“I’ll take care of you,” you said quietly, looking straight up to Vernon’s darkened eyes, and brought your tongue out of your mouth. The long, slow lick that you gave him nearly made him whimper, which wasn’t the most characteristic noise of his, the effect of your touch only stronger with how intently you were staring into his eyes. Your eye didn’t bat even once, not even when you gently tongued his slit and swirled your tongue around the head of his cock while he shivered.

He breathed heavily, and as you continued teasing him with your tongue without quite giving him the satisfaction of being inside of your mouth, he brought his hand to your hair.

You knew he wanted you to do something more, and you knew that the words were just stuck in his throat. With a small smile on your lips, you kissed your way from the base of his cock to the tip, then wrapped your lips around the head for a mere second. Just as Vernon let out a satisfied sigh, you let him fall off your lips and continued stroking him. “If there’s something you want, you just need to say it.”

Vernon gave you a nod, and looking at you again, spoke up. “Could you suck me off?”

“I don’t know,” you hummed, looking as thoughtful as you could, while leaning closer to his length again. “Maybe?”

Before he had time to retort, you took him into your mouth, slowly moving your head down to the point where the tip of his cock was poking at the back of your throat and he was groaning. Knowing how much he needed it, needed you, and how mutual that feeling really was, made it all too difficult for you to not touch yourself. You could already feel how wet you were, so to ease your situation at least a little, you shifted a little while sitting on your knees.

Vernon breathed heavily throughout the time you sucked him off, your fingers teasing his balls and stroking the base whenever you moved your head up, and was only brought back to his senses when you began moaning around him. He opened his eyes, which he had shut some time earlier to solely focus on how wonderful your hot mouth felt around his cock and how skilled your tongue was, and felt his mouth fall slack when he saw you fidgeting a little, obviously trying to get some friction down there.

“Y/N,” he rasped and tugged at your hair a little, eliciting an accidental whimper from you as you let him fall from your lips and froze in your movements, as much as you did enjoy the sensation in your pussy. Vernon’s eyes were hooded and his voice low as he spoke, his hand slowly falling to your cheek. “Isn’t it about time to see if those panties cover a little something?”

“A little something?” you asked playfully and stood up on your knees, catching a kiss from Vernon when he had sat up straight again.

He chuckled and leaned close to your ear, his hand now moving down to your chest to cup your right breast through the thin material of your lingerie. “Like your precious pussy.”

Sighing contently at his touch and straight-forward words, you hummed. “It can be the time for that if you want.”

Vernon nodded slowly and leaned down to kiss your neck. “I do.”

You stood up for a moment, while Vernon took his pants and underwear off. Seeing your pout, he figured out his shirt had to go, too - judging by your approving grin, he had been right, and you were more than eager to straddle him when he had lied down on his bed.

“Bets on whether it covers it or not?” you asked teasingly, seated on Vernon’s thighs so that your soaked pussy wasn’t particularly touching them. He placed his hands on your thighs and let out a thoughtful hum.

“You haven’t taken them on yet, so I’m going to bet that they don’t,” he said with a small chuckle, at which you raised your eyebrows.

“Who knows, I could just be messing with you,” you whispered as you leaned down to kiss his neck, pale yet the slightest bit sweaty from his arousal, while moving your hips higher on his body. As you lowered yourself to his length, the veins on the underside of it feeling heavenly on your wetness, which indeed wasn’t covered by even the slightest bit of fabric (the panties were more for show anyway), you shivered. “…But you’re right.”

Vernon grunted quietly when you began grinding on him, your anticipation making him even slicker than his own pre-cum had during the blowjob. You could feel his fingers digging lightly into your legs while his facial features contorted a little, and it all only added to your excitement.

Had you not been just as desperate as he was, you would’ve continued playing for much longer, but you knew that if you didn’t move on then, you wouldn’t be getting to the point you wanted to at all.

Forcing your hips to a halt, you nibbled on Vernon’s neck. “Where are the condoms this time?”

He chuckled at your question, prompted by the fact that he had often complained about the other members stealing them from him, and sighed contently. “Right under the mattress topper.”

You praised all higher powers for the fact that they weren’t further than that, and sat up before reaching backwards. Before you had even been able to ask, Vernon told you they’d be on the left side from you, and you practically beamed when you found a condom and brought it out.

“Do they still steal them?” you asked with a chuckle while getting the condom out of the wrapper, quirking your eyebrow as you looked at Vernon. He snorted.

“I haven’t lost any recently, but they do rummage around the room suspiciously at times,” he said, grinning, and only got more serious when you took a hold of his cock and carefully put the condom on him, stroking him a few times afterwards. It made him tense a little, and you smiled when he grunted.

“Your plan is working, then,” you noted and got up on your knees, aligning Vernon’s length with your entrance and merely moving it back and forth in your pussy for a bit.

“Y/N,” Vernon hissed, his lower lip between his teeth, and held your hips tightly. You giggled and sunk down on him slowly, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself a little.

You could never get over how good it felt to have him inside of you when you were so needy, especially when he was just as needy. It was the closest thing to heaven that you could think of, and the satisfied, quiet moan that left your lips told Vernon as much.

He chuckled lowly, holding your hips steadily while looking up at you, taking in the way the lingerie didn’t hide anything and how your lips were still parted in the moan. “You look ravishing.”

“That was my goal,” you said with a smile while his words made your heart flutter a little. You stared down at him and rolled your hips slowly, and your breath hitched at the sensation. When Vernon opened his mouth and shut it again, clearly about to say something, you giggled. “What were you about to say?”

“Can I just…” he mumbled and moved his hands away from your hips. You raised your eyebrows in surprise when he brought his hands to your chest and slid the top part of the lingerie down so that your breasts were free, somewhat elevated by the garment. He bit his lip excitedly and gave you an approving nod, cupping your mounds with a fascinated expression. “Much better.”

You leaned into his touch satisfiedly, moaning quietly when Vernon squeezed your breasts and rolled your nipples between his fingers, and it was that stimulation that made you want and need more. And so you began moving, determined to get the satisfaction you both needed.

Feeling him move inside of you was breathtaking, and you found out rather soon that you were incredibly sensitive, and it didn’t particularly help that if you angled your hips right, you could get some much needed friction to your clit, too. Vernon let out quiet sighs and looked at you hungrily as you rode him, your breasts moving in the rhythm of your movements, which stole your boyfriend’s attention more often than not.

Catching him staring at them, you grinned and clenched yourself around him, which earned you a groan from him. “Enjoying the view?”

Vernon nodded and moaned at the sight of you running your hands over your own breasts while your hips continued moving on him, alternating between just grinding and bouncing a little.

You quirked your eyebrow and slowly brought your hands to Vernon’s chest to tease his nipples experimentally. Licking your lips, you gave him a playful look. “How would you like it the other way around?”

The way his eyes widened momentarily told you enough, so with a devilish smirk you got off of him, turned around so that your back was facing him, and sunk down again determinedly. He grunted and placed his hands on your ass in an instant, his fingers sliding under the black strings that were the only thing covering some of your skin.

“Even better,” he said appreciatively and watched you ride him, his hands pushing you down on himself every now and then. You knew just what he liked, and were satisfied when you could hear him starting to let out the quietest groans and felt his fingers dig into your skin more and more.

He loved the sight of you moving on himself, and it was that much hotter when he could see your ass bounce, too. From the right angle, he could see himself disappearing inside of you, and there was something about that particular sight that had made his hips buck up involuntarily.

You felt that, however, and halting your movements, you turned to look at him. With a few well chosen words, you’d finally get to the best part. “Do you need to blow off steam?”

Vernon swallowed hard at your words, and knowing more than well what was behind them, he gave you an urgent nod. “Yeah.”

Smirking, you continued moving back and forth on his lap with your ass jutting out purposefully exaggeratedly. “The stage is yours.”

He thought about his options for a while, before lifting you off himself, which made you frown with a small pout. “I was thinking about…”

With his words trailing off, Vernon stood up and turned towards you, raising his left eyebrow meaningfully. “…all fours.”

It told you enough, really - you knew what all fours with Vernon meant - and you wasted no time in getting into the position, a moan louder than you intended it to be escaping your lips when he pushed into you. You grabbed his bed sheets tightly, your upper body lowering and your toes curling when he began thrusting, hard and fast, putting all of his stress into them.

“Fuck,” you whined, more under your breath than anything else, and let out a series of blissful moans muffled by your own arm while Vernon rammed into you, his hands on your hips pushing you down against himself every time he thrust forward. It was intense and felt so good that it was no surprise it was just what the two of you needed.

As he started gradually getting closer to his peak, Vernon leaned over you a little, moving his hands from your hips so that one of them was holding your breast and the other slid down your body, two of his fingers starting to draw fast circles on your swollen clit.

Your legs shook and your moans got harder and harder to stifle with everything that was going on, and your thighs more or less shut around Vernon’s hand when your orgasm began washing over you without a warning - only the rhythmical clenching of your core around him and the high-pitched cry that you let out told Vernon what had happened.

“You came,” he stated almost dumbly, only for his own brows to furrow when he felt his own peak so close in his reach, and thrust into you desperately until he was releasing into the condom with his lips pressed to your left shoulder blade.

You collected yourselves slowly, and with you smiling a sated smile and Vernon chuckling warmly near your ear, he pulled out of you and disposed the condom. Rolling to your back, you fiddled with the hem of the lingerie you were still wearing and looked at Vernon while he ran his fingers through his hair, his cheeks flushed.

“Did it help?” you asked quietly, pursing your lips when Vernon tilted his head and came to sit next to you.

“Did it help with what?” he asked, placing a hand on your thigh, this time more soothing than suggestive.

“Your stress,” you said with a small pout and sat up. Vernon frowned.

“Sure, but… honey, we shouldn’t be having sex because I’m stressed. We should be having sex because we want to,” he said with a slightly quirked eyebrow as well as a small pout on his lips.

You nodded and looked into his eyes. “I mean, I think it’s a given we want to. It’s just that I do also want to help you relieve your stress, so…”

At that point, his lips curved into a smile, his eyes forming beautiful crescents as he did. “So you help me like this only when you’re horny, too?”

“Basically,” you admitted with a chuckle and raised your eyebrows playfully. “Got a problem with that?”

“None,” Vernon snickered and wrapped his arm around you, holding you close as you still continued to recover from reaching your climaxes.

You started to feel sticky, and with a grimace, stood up. “You don’t hide your tissues, do you?”

“Nah.”

You grabbed one from the drawer of his nightstand and cleaned yourself while Vernon dressed up and tried to tidy his hair. Putting on some clothes, too, you luckily faced a bit less of a challenge in fixing your hair, and turned to your boyfriend cheerfully.

“Wanna go see if there’s still food left?”

His stomach grumbled, and he held it with pursed lips. “Yes, I’m starving.”

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#vernon smut #hansol smut #seventeen smut #vernon scenarios #hansol scenarios #vernon imagines #seventeen imagines #hansol imagines

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crypticcravings · 7 years

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Memories Remain, Chapter 2

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Ladybug swung through the streets of Paris--which were fairly quiet, even for a weeknight--and nearly whooped with joy. It was a good day, and she was celebrating with a patrol--which was really just an excuse to don her spots and swing above the rooftops with the lack of crime in her city.

Marinette had turned in the preliminary designs for her capstone project that morning, then that afternoon, she'd put the finishing touches on three commission projects before dropping two of them in the mail, and emailing the third client about a pick-up. It was her day off from the bakery, and she had run out as soon as she could, loving the feel of the early February air whipping through her hair. The only thing that would have made the day better would be seeing her partner, though that was unlikely.

Marinette shoved the pang of loneliness aside and landed on the top of one of Notre Dame's towers. She looked over her city and relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever.

Yet as she sat down, stretching her arms over her head and extending her legs out in front of her, her brain nudged at her with a tiny anxiety. It was the feeling she typically got when she had a major assignment coming up, but she knew her next draft of designs and fabric mock ups weren't due for another week, and she didn't have any pending commissions. The source of her anxiety could only be one thing: she was worried about her cat.

What was that saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?

That couldn't have been more true. Over the years, seeing Cat Noir less and less had made her miss him more. She was worried that she was losing him as they grew apart. Her life was becoming so routine--get up, help prep the bakery, get a morning coffee, go to class, work, commissions, sleep, then do it all over again the next day. She was so busy with everything that she hadn't even noticed how….normal things had become since Hawkmoth's defeat.

Not that normal was always a bad thing, but considering the majority of her childhood/teen years had been spent as a spotted super-hero defending Paris from supervillains of various affiliations, normal was, well, abnormal. She loved that her city was peaceful. Crime was at an all-time low, and the super villains had been quiet for a few years. It was a good thing for everyone.

But Ladybug couldn't help but almost wish for at least a little excitement. Something to break the monotony of her daily life. Something that would let her see Cat Noir for even a little bit…

Ladybug must have fallen asleep up there, because the next time she opened her eyes the sun had moved to the horizon. It was almost setting.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. She'd never get to sleep after napping for so long. Maybe she should swing by that coffee shop, then prep some dough for her parents after the bakery closed…

"A little late for a cat nap, isn't it, My Lady?"

Ladybug was on her feet in an instant, hand already on her yoyo.

"Woah, there, LB, it's just me!" Cat Noir held his hands out in the universal sign for "I'm unarmed" and grinned at her. "Long time no see, Bugaboo."

Ladybug's face split into a huge grin as she relaxed her stance. She tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, but she couldn't ignore the slight heat rising in her cheeks. "Chaton!" She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. She felt his hands come to her waist and she realized once again how much taller than her he had become. The top of her head was barely above his shoulder. Yet even with the height difference, she never felt more at home than when she was in his arms. Years of tumbling around together in battle would do that to a person. "What are you doing out and about?"

"I could ask the same of you. It's been a while since I've heard about a streak of spots flying through the city."

Ladybug laughed as she reluctantly stepped out of Cat Noir's embrace. "I had a good day and wanted to enjoy my freedom a little bit."

Cat Noir sat down on the slope of the roof and Ladybug followed. "I'm glad you had such a good day. I was flipping TV channels and saw some footage of you out patrolling. I wondered if I'd catch you out and about still."

"Well, you caught me."

Cat Noir pointed out, with humor in his voice, how dangerous it was for her to fall asleep on top of a tower. She told him that, compared to all of the reckless stunts he had pulled over the years, she was entitled to one or two of her own.

The pair shared jokes and told vague stories from their civilian lives to catch each other up on everything they had missed in the past few months apart. Cat Noir had gotten a new job--his last one hadn't been giving him enough hours. Ladybug was in her last semester working towards her masters degree. He'd gotten a haircut. She was considering one. The weather was awfully nice for this time of year, wasn't it?

It wasn't until the sun had nearly set over the horizon that the pair considered parting ways.

Ladybug was feeling uncharacteristically shy as their rare meeting drew to a close--like a middle schooler with a crush trying to form her words around the guy she liked.

"So…uuum. I guess it might be a while before we see each other again, huh," Ladybug murmured.

Cat's eyes filled with regret. "I guess you're right."

Ladybug cast out her yoyo out and prepared to swing off, but turned back to give Cat Noir one last one armed hug. "Take care of yourself until next time, okay? You've gotten really skinny lately. Make sure you're eating enough."

His eyes crinkled with mirth at her concern. "Thanks, mom. But try not to stay away for so long this time."

"Back at you, kitty. Let's not wait until summer to see each other again." Ladybug winked before leaping off the building, the rush of the wind and the remaining exhilaration from seeing her partner/best friend again ran through her.

Adrien didn't return to his apartment until after dark. Seeing Ladybug had to have been the highlight of his week--maybe even his entire month.

"She hasn't changed at all, has she Plagg?" He sighed and flopped down dreamily at his kitchen table.

The tiny black Kwami rummaged around in the cabinets. "What are you talking about? She's totally different from that awkward kid back in the day."

"That's not what I mean. I haven't seen her since…what….Before Christmas? Maybe longer? But every time I see her, she takes my breath away." He sighed, tapping mindlessly on the small pile of bills that called for his attention. "She has this…air, this essence about her that never changes. Like, the atmosphere around her is charged with her aura. Like she carries the light with her, you know?"

Plagg made a disgusted sound and tossed something to the floor. "The only thing I know, kid, is that no matter how many years go by, somehow you get sappier with each one." There was more rummaging about in the cabinets. "At least you used to talk about real things. 'Oh, your bluebell eyes. The way she smashed that Akuma's face in. Blah blah blah'. But now you're obsessed with her aura?! The air around her? Blegh."

"I don't care, Plagg. You know what they say: Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

Finally, the clattering stopped. Plagg, having apparently found what he was looking for, floated over to Adrien's side with a box of cheese crackers. "You really need to get laid, kid."

Adrien whacked at his Kwami, but missed.

"Face it kid, you've been pining over LB for years now. You either need to do something about it or move on."

Adrien sighed and slumped down, head hanging over the back of the chair. "Maybe you're right, Plagg."

"Come on, kid, I mean you've been whining about--wait. Did you just say I was right?"

Adrien winced. He should have known the words would come back to bite him in the ass. "Don't let it go to your head."

Plagg's grin could have rivaled the Cheshire Cat. "Too late for that." Adrien rolled his eyes and chose to ignore the gloating black cat.

Plagg really did have a point.

Maybe it was time for him to quit pining and take action. After all, he wasn't a fourteen year old kid anymore. Neither was Ladybug. Plus, the danger was out of the way with the absence of super villains lately.

Maybe he needed to grow a pair and finally do something about this pining heart of his.

Marinette walked home from the coffee shop, macchiato in hand, and reflected on her day.

She hadn't expected to run into her cat, but the fact that she had…

Marinette felt heat rise in her cheeks. She pressed a hand to the side of her face to feel the warmth of her own skin. She closed her eyes and sighed, reveling in the sweet feeling of butterflies in her stomach, almost like a giddy anticipation of things to come. Seeing Cat Noir again had settled her resolve. It was time for her to meet him--the real him. With all of the danger gone, she could finally and safely reveal herself to her partner.

What would it be like to be able to call him whenever she wanted? To finally text him all of those memes she had saved on her phone?

And sure, things might be awkward at first, but seeing the man under the mask, getting to know him for real, maybe they could be something more…

Marinette wiggled a bit in her excitement, and danced in place, not caring about the stares of pedestrians around her.

She was ready. It had only taken ten years, but she was finally going to tell her partner everything.

#Memories Remain #Ladrien #Marichat #Adrienette #Ladynoir #Adrinette #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #Adrien #adrien agreste #Marinette #Marinette dupain cheng #Marinette dupain-cheng #Cryptic fic

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