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sparkly-scales · 2 months

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Loviatar's Blessing Tav x Astarion BG3

Loviatars Blessing

ObsidianRose96

Summary:

“Astarion? What are you doing here?” “Basking in the aftermath of your questionable decisions. You naughty, naughty, girl.” He growls. “Gods, I can still smell it on you. That sweet, musky scent paired with the smell of your blood is absolutely…intoxicating. I can’t seem to resist it.” “What are you going on about?” You ask. “Oh, don’t play coy with me, darling. I heard you back there. Hells, everyone did. But unlike everyone else I could also smell you. One of the few perks of being a vampire spawn. The scent of your arousal was ever present as you were willingly being beaten. It still is. Odd, I didn’t take you for a masochist. It seems I learn something new about you every day.” The fic in which Tav discovers something about herself.

Notes:

Hey guys, sorry for the re-upload, I just didn't feel like it was complete. I went back and added some things as well as fixed a few mistakes I caught. Anyways, this is my second attempt at a smutty one-shot between Tav and Astarion. Don't fret my Gale lovers, I have something spicy coming out here soon that focuses on our favorite Wizard of Waterdeep. As a side note I'd like to add that your reactions to my last fic, Jealous Much, really inspired me to keep writing. I've been in such a low spot recently that I thought I had lost my touch. When I saw all the Kudo's it made me want to keep going and I really appreciate that. As always, thank you for choosing to read my fic. You could have (and probably should have) chosen to read something else, but you chose to read this dumpster fire and I am eternally grateful for your support. Without further Adieu, I present to you Loviatars Blessing.

Work Text:

This wasn’t a position you had ever expected to find yourself in. Especially while you were trying to infiltrate a goblin infested temple. Your bare chest is pressed up against an unforgivingly cool wall as your companions stand back, some are horrified at what’s about to go down and some hold their breaths in anticipation, eager to watch. Why you had agreed to this, you weren’t entirely sure. Perhaps it was the powerful blessing that was promised that swayed you. Or maybe it was the incredibly sexy priest of Loviatar, with his scantily clad sculpted body and infectious enthusiasm for his goddess. Either way, you were about to experience something completely new.

“Let Loviatar hear your dear one!” Shouts the priest. You hear a loud crack before you feel a sharp, stinging, pain spread across your back. You’re not sure what he’s using to beat you with, but it does the job, causing you to yelp in pain.

“Yes child! Sing your praises to Loviatar with your screams! Show her that you are worthy of her blessing!”

Another cracking sound and the stinging sensation returns. You feel hot, wet, tears streaming down your cheeks as the pain intensifies with the second strike. You also feel yourself getting wet somewhere else.

What in the hells? Were you…were you into this? Surely not...

Another strike and you scream yet again, louder this time.

“Gods, who knew she had so much blood.” You hear Astarion say.

"Will you please stop licking your lips? It's making me rather uncomfortable.” Says Gale, chastising the vampire spawn.

If you were bleeding, you couldn’t feel it.

“One more time! Come on, let the pain set you free!” Shouts the priest. This is his hardest strike yet and you’re horrified. Not because of the pain but because you didn’t scream. No, instead you let out a loud moan. There’s a lingering silence in the room as you slowly turn to face the priest and your companions. Your cheeks flush as you scan their faces. Poor Gale looks just as horrified as you do. Shadowheart is trying her best not to laugh, holding a hand in front of her mouth to try and conceal her amused grin. And Astarion looks…hungry, as if he wants to eat you alive. Which isn’t all that surprising since you were apparently bleeding.

“That was a rather…interesting reaction.” Says the Priest. “Well done my sweet child. You bore the pain like a true believer. And from what I can tell, you enjoyed the experience just as much as I did. I am proud to have served you this penance. You've certainly earned our goddess's blessing. Please, feel free to visit me again if you’d like to bask in her glory once more.”

“T-thank you.” You say. You go to put on your armor but let out a pained hiss as its leather touches your fresh wounds. Now that your adrenaline has worn off the pain is much more intense.

“Where did my shirt go? I’m gonna have to ditch my armor for now. Does anyone have an extra healing potion?”

“I don’t think we brought any.” Says Shadowheart. “But I may be able to cast a healing spell. Let me see.”

You turn your back to her. “Good gods!” She exclaims as she gets a better look at the wounds. You wince when she touches a particularly tender spot. “Is it bad?”

“It’s not great.” Says Gale. “We should head back to camp. I think it’s best that we do not proceed until you’re healed up.”

“Head back? But we just got here!” You groan.

“I’m going to have to agree with the wizard. You’re going to be useless until this is healed.” Says Shadowheart. “You can’t just waltz around picking fights without your armor. They’ll make you a pin cushion.”

“Gee, thanks. Wait, weren’t you going to heal me?” You ask, looking up at the cleric.

“My spells alone aren’t enough to fix this.” Says Shadowheart. “You’re going to need potions and salves as well as something to prevent infection. That flog did a number on you. I’ll cast something to ease the pain for now but Gale’s right, we need to go back to camp.”

“Ughhh fine. Let’s go back then. The sooner I heal the sooner we can finish dealing with the goblins.”

The walk back to camp is agonizing as the pain from your wounds becomes more and more intense. Your blood is oozing through your shirt, staining the white colored fabric red. Astarions eyes are on you the entire way back. He’s trying to keep himself composed but he’s finding it difficult. Yes, the blood dripping down your back was enticing but there was something else emanating off of you that was driving him absolutely mad. Your arousal. You naughty, naughty girl. To him you seemed like the innocent type, a little vanilla babe that wouldn’t do more than what was necessary. But as he watched you being beaten, when he heard your unmistakable moan, when he could smell your lust, he quickly realized that there was more to you than he had previously thought. And he wanted to explore it.

“Go to your tent and take off your shirt. I’ll cast a simple healing spell for now and douse the wounds with a healing potion, but I’ll need to procure some herbs and other ingredients for the salve.”

“You have to make it?” You ask.

“Yes. It's a minor inconvenience but it doesn’t take much. It's fairly simple to make and all of the ingredients I need are around us. I just have to find them.”

Shadowheart follows you to your tent and she begins the healing process she had explained earlier. The pain is still present but it’s not as bad as it previously was. Once she leaves, you lay there and relax. You didn’t realize how much that had taken out of you because you find yourself falling asleep. That is until you hear the flaps to your tent open.

You slowly lift up your head, expecting to see Shadowheart. Instead you see Astarion with that same, hungry, look in his eye. He looks almost predatory as he starts to slowly crawl towards you, like a lion about to take down its prey. “I have to say darling, I’m so glad you agreed to let that priest beat you like that. It was quite the show.”

“Astarion? What are you doing here?”.

“Basking in the aftermath of your questionable decisions. You naughty, naughty, girl.” He growls. “Gods, I can still smell it on you. That sweet, musky scent paired with the smell of your blood is absolutely…intoxicating. I can’t seem to resist it.”

“What are you going on about?” You ask.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, darling. I heard you back there. Hells, everyone did. But unlike everyone else I could smell you. One of the few perks of being a vampire spawn. Your arousal was ever present as you were willingly being beaten. It still is. Odd, I didn’t take you for a masochist. It seems I learn something new about you every day.” He crawls up the length of your body, hovering over the open wounds on your back. "It would be such a shame to let all of this blood go to waste.” He says, tracing a finger over one of the wounds. You wince as you feel his fingertip make contact with a strip of open flesh. And without warning you feel his tongue start sliding across your back, lapping up the leftover blood that had been pooling in your wounds. You hiss at the sensation. The sting of his saliva isn’t pleasant but also not….unwelcome? You’re confused at the way your body reacts to this. You should be put off by how unpleasant this feels but the aching between your thighs tells a different story.

“There it is again. That sweet, alluring smell. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You don’t answer him. You’re not even sure what to say to that. “Being coy again are we? Darling you don’t have to be like that around me.” He continues to lap up the rest of the blood on your back, and the throbbing feeling intensifies.

“Delicious!” He declares once he’s finished. “Your blood is exquisite when it’s mixed with your sweet, sweet, lust. I still find myself hungry though.”

"Do you need more blood? I can let you feed on me.” You say.

“Oh darling, you’re such a sweetheart. I’ll be sure to take you up on that, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” You shiver beneath his touch as he slides his finger down the length of your body, starting at your shoulder blade and stopping at the hem of your trousers. “I want to taste you.”

Your eyes go wide as you realize what he’s insinuating. “I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? You want to taste me? Like…down there?” You point down to your trousers.

He eyes you curiously. “Yes? I thought I made my intentions pretty clear.” He says. “So, what do you say? Will you let me indulge myself in you?”

You take a moment to think about it. Would things be different between the two of you if you allowed him the opportunity to do something so intimate? Would things be weird? Awkward? You didn’t want to ruin your newfound friendship with the pale elf, a friendship you’d worked so hard for. The man was difficult to understand and it was a task to get him to trust you to begin with. If things become difficult between the two of you all of your hard work would go to waste. But the aching in your thighs was growing ever stronger as he hovered over you, his crimson colored eyes heavy lidded with his own desire. Perhaps something like this would have the opposite effect, at least you hoped it would. Maybe if you were able to let yourself enjoy a moment like this with him it would make your bond stronger. Bring the two of you closer.

His lips find the shell of your ear, his voice low and sensual as he whispers, “I’ll make you feel very, very, good.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll allow it.” You say. “But how are we gonna do this? As you know, I can’t really lay on my back right now.”

“Don’t worry darling, I know how we can do this without hurting you further. Although, I’m not sure you’d be opposed to the idea of more pain.” He teases.

“Gods, I knew I should have brought Wyll along instead of you.” He pulls you to your feet, encouraging you to stand as he lies down on your bed roll.

“Oh please, you and I both know Wyll can't pick a lock the way I can. By the way, you may want to take those off.” He says, pointing to your trousers. “It’s going to be difficult to do this with those in the way.”

“Really?” Your voice drips with sarcasm as you begin to undress your lower half. When you pull down your panties you're surprised to see just how damp they are. They are soaked through the fabric, wet with your desire.

“Come here darling.” Astarion purrs once you’re completely bare. You walk over to him, a little timidly. This was the first time he was seeing you fully nude. This was also the first time you were indulging in an intimate moment like this. You were still pure after all, even if the events from earlier today suggest otherwise.

He pulls you down, his hands tightly gripping your hips as he positions you exactly where he wants you. You’re surprised to find yourself seated right under his face, right where his tongue had the best access to your now throbbing, aching, cunt. You hear him take a deep inhale of you before he slips his tongue between your folds. The feeling is certainly a new one but it’s incredible. You find yourself biting down on your bottom lip attempting to stifle the moans that threaten to escape you as he indulges himself. He laps you up as though he’s been starved and you can hear him let out little grunts as he savors the sweet taste of your sex.

“Gods, this is better than I could have imagined.” He groans against you. “I can’t wait until I get you to cum for me.” And with that, he withdraws his tongue just a little until the tip of it is touching that little bud of sensitive nerves. You hiss, withdrawing yourself from his face. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant by any means, just unfamiliar. Surprising.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asks, his face is etched with concern as he looks up at you.

“S-sorry.” You apologize, depositing yourself onto his chest. “I’ve just-this is my first time.”

“Really? You’ve never had anyone-

“Nope. This is my first time experiencing anything like this. I’m still…what’s the word?”

“A virgin?”

“Yes.” You say. “I’m still a virgin.”

He looks surprised by your revelation. “Really? By the way you were acting back at the temple I would have never guessed. I suppose that explains why you seemed a little confused earlier. I can stop if-

“No. No no no. I want this. Please continue. For once you’re actually making good use of your tongue.”

He chuckles at your clever quip. “As you wish darling. But do try and stay seated.” He pulls you back to his face, taking it slower this time as he teases your clit. It’s overwhelming at first, almost too much to bear. But eventually that feeling subsides, leaving you with a pleasure you’ve never had the chance to experience. You don’t even attempt to stifle back the moans that escape your lips.

“Mmm, you want them to hear us, don’t you darling?” Astarion murmurs beneath you. "Naughty, naughty, girl."

You don’t answer him. Instead you desperately grind your hips against his face, guiding his tongue to hit all of your sweet spots. Suddenly he withdraws from you and you let out a disappointed whine.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. I’m not finished yet. I just want to try something.” His lips start to graze the inside of your thigh, searching for the perfect spot. When he finds it he sinks his fangs into you. You have no idea how delicious you are darling. To him you're like a fine wine crafted specifically for his tastes. Ever since he’s been free he’s had the chance to sample a few other thinking creatures. Enemies that dared to challenge you and your companions. They were all good, there was no denying that. But they were nothing compared to you. Especially when you were so, so, close to the edge.

He continues to take long drinks from you, indulging himself in your delicious taste. The icy sting from his fangs, the light headedness, and the adrenaline that was now coursing through your veins is almost too much. It isn’t long before you feel your body begin to tense as you come to your climax. Your thighs begin to quiver and you let out a loud cry as a tidal wave of pleasure overtakes you. Gods, that felt incredible! Astarion hums happily beneath you as he switches from your thigh back to your sopping cunt. He hungrily laps up your sweet, sweet, juices but you find that the feeling of his tongue is overstimulating. You have to lift up off of him to get him to stop.

“T-too much. Need a second.” You pant.

“How was it?”

“Th-that was amazing.” You say, still trembling from your orgasm.

“I told you I’d make you feel good, didn’t I?” He looks up at you triumphantly, his face is covered with a mixture of blood and the clear, glossy sheen of you. You take your thumb and wipe some of the crimson liquid off the edge of his mouth. He’s always been such a messy eater.

“So, would you like to go further?” His question catches you off guard.

“What? What do you mean?” You ask.

“Would you like to have sex darling?” He asks. “And please, don’t feel pressured. You’ve given me so much already, I’ll understand if you don’t want to.” He says, absentmindedly twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers.

Of course that’s what he meant. Gods, you were so inexperienced in these matters. How embarrassing.

You take a moment to consider. You’re already sitting on top of him naked and the two of you have just shared a rather intimate moment. Why not let him be the one to take your purity? Besides, the tadpole has you constantly guessing whether or not there will be a tomorrow in store for you. If there was a time to lose your virginity, it’d be now, while the chance lay so willingly beneath you.

“Yes. I think I would.”

“I was so hoping you’d say that.” He says. He pulls you off of him so that he can unlace his trousers. His erection springs out at you, hard and ready, pre-cum already leaking from the tip. His hands find your hips and he positions you over his shaft. “I'm not sure if you know this or not but it’s going to hurt. I don’t think that will be a problem for you though, my little deviant.” He says, his lips are pulled into a devious smirk as he calls you by another one of his pet names.

“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

“I don’t plan too.” He says. “Besides, I’m sure I can find ways to use this little kink of yours to my advantage.” He helps you lower yourself onto him and he’s absolutely right. It hurts. It’s a pain unlike any you’ve ever felt before, a strange combination of pressure and burning. And it’s driving you absolutely mad. How can something hurt so badly yet feel so damned good? You aren’t sure. It doesn’t make sense. None of what’s happening right now makes sense. But you don’t care. You’re just glad it’s happening, and with Astarion of all people.

He’s slow at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling of him inside you before he goes any further. Then he grinds himself against you, driving himself deeper and deeper into your cervix. “Fuck, you’re so tight, Tav!” He says through gritted teeth. He pulls you down close to him, holding you tightly against his chest as he bucks his hips into you. It's a bit of a task with how green you are but eventually he manages, filling you with the full length of his cock. This is an entirely new feeling and the pain is still present but gods, it feels so fucking good. You can't believe you've gone this long without ever experiencing something like this. Sure, you absolutely could have earlier in your life but no one ever really caught your attention. Astarion however, was an entirely different story.

His pace is steady, thrusting into you with quick, deep strokes, relishing the feeling of your tight little pussy taking all of him. Loud moans mixed with his name spill from your lips as you praise everything he's doing to you. Every thrust, every grunt, every dirty word that comes out of his mouth drives you closer and closer to the edge. It isn't long before that tense feeling returns and your thighs begin to tremble once more as that wave of pleasure overtakes you yet again. You loudly cry his name as he manages to unravel you for a second time.

His pace begins to falter and with a few more thrusts he too reaches his climax, spilling his seed deep inside of you. You collapse on top of him, just as Shadowheart opens the flaps to your tent.

“Oh! Oh gods! You could have at least left a sock outside or something!” She shields her eyes and quickly closes the tent flap, cursing as she walks away.

Astarion chuckles and gently moves you off of him, pulling his undergarments and trousers back on. "As much as I don't want to, I suppose I should let her have you now."

“That was…nice.” You say.

“Indeed. Perhaps we can make this a regular thing between the two of us? I rather enjoy your company, you know?” Your lips tug into a smile at his suggestion.

“I would like that.”

"Good." He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, then another on your cheek before he leans down close to your ear and whispers, “Maybe the next time we indulge ourselves in one another I’ll have come up with all sorts of delicious ways to torment you. You’d like that, yes? And I’m sure I can find all sorts of fun items for us to play with. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for a flog for my naughty, naughty, girl.”

Your cheeks turn bright red and he kisses you again, this time on the lips. He’s rough with it, parting your lips with his tongue, allowing you to taste yourself on him. A unique blend of the two of you dances around in each other's mouths as the kiss deepens. It’s divine, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. His fang nicks your lower lip drawing out a tiny bit of blood which he greedily laps up. And then he pulls away, leaving you breathless and desperately wanting more.

I'll see you later, my sweet." He says, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before climbing out of your tent.

Shadowheart returns shortly after with an annoyed look on her face. In one hand she holds that salve she’s prepared. You laugh when you see what she’s holding in the other.

“Did you seriously bring me a sock!?”

“Yes. Please do not ever let me walk in on that again. The last thing I wanted to see today was Astarions ball sack.”

“I didn’t think you got the chance to see anything with how quickly you left.” You manage to say through your fit of laughter.

“Well I did and now I’m traumatized. Thanks for that.”

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #smut

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lootthekey · 9 months

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Duskmourn- The Living Horror Plane Theory

Art by Antonio José Manzanedo

Hello, this is me making another big post, but this time related to an upcoming set we know almost nothing about other than its loose themes. Duskmourn, a set themed around modern horror, or more accurately horror from the 70’s and 80’s, is extremely unique in that it takes place on the plane of Duskmourn. Why is that unique? You see, Duskmourn, the plane, is not like other planes at all. Even the most corrupted of Magic’s natural worlds, like Innistrad and Amonkhet, have a natural appearance to them. They have wildlife, a difference between civilization and nature, and overall are just standard worlds with differing cultures and ecosystems.

Duskmourn is extremely different from that.

Duskmourn is just one, absolutely gigantic, haunted mansion. As far as we know, this plane has very little in terms of an actual “world” and is just this massive house of horrors, hence the name of the set “Duskmourn: House of Horrors”. What is so interesting about this is the potential implications of this. As said, Magic’s planes almost universally follow the basic blueprint of being an actual world not unlike our own aside from the magical aspects of them, like Kamigawa’s Spirit Realm and similar.

The only plane that comes close to not being an actual “world” is Mirrodin, now better known as New Phyrexia. Even New Phyrexia, a world molded to its core by Elesh Norn and the other praetors of New Phyrexia, loosely imitates a natural world with its various spheres each having their own… ecosystem if they can be called that.

Duskmourn, until it is shown further and they say otherwise, has none of this to our understanding. It’s ONLY this big mansion. This leads me to my main theory I have today:

Duskmourn is an unnatural world.

And I don’t just mean this by how different it is. I mean to imply either this plane was created, similar to Mirrodin, by an extremely powerful entity, OR has been so heavily corrupted/modified/etc by a similar entity that it can no longer be called a “natural plane”.

The first possibility is interesting, but there isn’t much to further analyze with that possibility. We don’t know of any characters currently that can CREATE planes that aren’t just some random oldwalker we probably haven’t met yet or some all powerful demon potentially.

The second possibility, that the plane was corrupted and shaped into its current form by an extremely powerful entity, does have more interesting implications, as there are hilariously several beings in Magic’s modern lore capable of doing so. This is mainly because it seems to take much less effort to corrupt an individual plane, especially if you have a lot of help, than it is to create a full plane. Not that it still isn’t world breaking power at play, but its possible. We saw the New Phyrexians do it to Mirrodin, and they probably could have done it to other worlds if they weren’t met with heavy pushback.

Let’s revisit the image that I posted above and has basically been WotC’s chosen image to showcase the plane in its little time slot on their release timeline.

This is an extremely large, very eldritch and/or demonic looking entity that dwells on Duskmourn… or perhaps more. If you study this art, its “body” naturally flows into what can be called doors, staircases, pillars, and windows. The sheer size of this thing is awe inspiring, and it is extremely eldritch in appearance. Its really only a little different in appearance to another cast of very eldritch entities in Magic’s lore that I also made big posts about.

Art by Eli Minaya

The Eldrazi Titans. Very similar bone-like appearance to Ulamog, very similar “multiple limb” design of Kozilek, and a similar “glowing eldritch hole(s)” design to Emrakul. You might see where I am going with this, which is:

Duskmourn is a giant, living plane, who’s World Soul has been supplanted by an Eldrazi Titan.

Now, you might say, “But Colin, Eldrazi’s do not do that. They eat worlds.” But how do we know that? Emrakul, in Eldritch Moon, was fully capable of taking over Innistrad. She had the entire plane in her grasp and there were no signs of her losing. She was delayed by the Gatewatch, but by the end all of them had been mentally overwhelmed by her powers. Emrakul sealed herself into Innistrad’s moon at the end of it all, clearly with a larger, more complex goal in mind that has haunted us to this day.

Duskmourn, I believe, is a world that has been completely corrupted by an Eldrazi not unlike Emrakul.

The inhabitants, who I don’t even know how they survive in such a world, are constantly bombarded by mental attacks from the world itself. This is not unlike what happened when Emrakul fought the Gatewatch. Every inhabitant of Duskmourn is a captive in Duskmourn’s corrupting grasp, and that will be central to the plane I believe. This is an unnatural world run by an eldritch entity, and the nature of it could be the key to learning more about the Eldrazi and/or how the World Souls of planes function.

I am very excited to see what Duskmourn has in store, and I hope it does not disappoint.

#mtg #spoiler #duskmourn

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birrdies · 1 year

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run its course (1,456 words) - a brief drabble inspired by this fanart by @murkybu . it's absolutely lovely and i fell in love with the atmosphere, so i just had to write something for it!

The horse had been the one to run the race, yet somehow it’s Bdubs who is out of breath by the end of it. Palms sweaty, he grapples for a solid grip on the reins as he leads his horse through the final lap. He’s on Etho’s tail— really it’s an incredibly close gap— as he crosses the finish line. A joyful string of notes plays from somewhere underground as soon as Etho’s horse crosses the threshold. Another display of Etho’s handiwork. Had Bdubs loaded the dispenser like he was supposed to, fireworks would have erupted from the ground in a victorious flurry.

Not Bdubs’ victory, of course, but it still somehow tastes just as sweet.

It’s sweet, because the sun starts to sink. Not enough for night to fall and send Bdubs searching for the nearest bed, but the low-kind that bathes the rolling hills of the horse course and the crest of Etho’s cheek in gold. The kind that catches Etho's hair like it’s freshly fallen snow. It’s sweet, because Etho circles his horse around, eyes scrunched in a big grin and— Bdubs horse whinnies as it pulls to a stop beside Etho’s.

“Fell a bit behind there, huh, Bdubs?” Etho taunts, somehow sounding as equally breathless as Bdubs feels. Oh, how he’s absolutely loving this victory. And how Bdubs is loving that he’s loving it. He scoffs. “I was right on your tail. Don’t even try it!” Etho laughs, the deep kind that starts low in his chest before he hiccups it back up. “Oh yeah? Ok, whatever you gotta say to make yourself feel better, buddy.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Bdubs laughs, despite himself. “You’re that full of yourself?”

“A little bit, yeah.” Etho tilts his head to the side, his horse shifting to close what little gap remained between them. “I totally lapped you.”

The sun hits the back of Etho’s head, streaming around him in a blinding halo. Bdubs has to lift a hand to block the rays and steal a better look at his friend. He’s smiling, underneath his mask, the skin around his eyes creased and his face looking softer than Bdubs ever remembers it looking. He knows that isn’t true; they’ve known each other for years after all, but time takes its toll on them as it does everyone else.

Though in the golden hour with the green hills of the horse course as his backdrop, riding off the high of his unearned victory, Etho looks timeless.

So, yes, maybe Bdubs is okay with the fact that Etho beat him. Which says a lot, honestly. He hates to lose, but he’s not a sore loser either. Hell, he basically handed that victory over to Etho on a silver platter. A favor. How could he have denied Etho, a dear friend, of such a gift? It’s only the right thing to do.

“Race me again if you’re so confident,” Bdubs insists with a crooked smile. He curls his fists in the reins, his horse bucking its head back in protest. “You’ll come crawling back crying like a baby!” Etho chuckles again (Bdubs would stay out here all night to hear it over and over again). He rakes his fingers through his horse’s stark mane, detangling it gently with his fingers. “Don’t be mean, you gotta think of the horses! What if they’re tired?” “Sounds to me like you’re just scared.” Bdubs raises his eyebrows, brightens his grin. Etho looks at him for a moment before turning his gaze down, eyes still scrunched in some kind of private half-smile that’s usually only reserved for Bdubs. “Maybe,” he relents, but Bdubs knows its just to appease him. It always is.

Bdubs tries not to let it go to his head.

They don’t need to say anything else. Etho leads the way, directing his horse towards the course’s stables. It’s a small set up, a few pens large enough to house the best racing horses. Etho slides from the saddle and leads his horse the rest of the way by a hand on its reins. Bdubs follows after him, doing the same with his own horse.

Etho corrals his horse back into its pen, softly coaxing it under his breath. Once it’s settled inside, breathing hard and obviously tired, Etho unbuckles its saddle and pulls away the riding blanket, folding both over the fence gates.

“That’s it,” Etho whispers, offering his open hand. The horse palms its head into his hand, chuffing under its breath. “Good girl.”

Bdubs chuckles and unsaddles his own horse, idly petting its flank.

“Hand me that curry comb?” Etho says.

Bdubs grabs the bag of grooming equipment by his feet. Wordlessly, he hands Etho the comb and watches him work, only barely paying attention to his own horse as he peels the headpiece away and hangs it on a peg in the wood paneling.

Etho grooms his horse with precision and care, as he does a lot of things when he thinks people aren’t looking. Bdubs knows because he’s almost always looking. Not because he has anything he’s particularly looking for, but rather because he knows he’ll find something worthwhile if he doesn’t dare to look away. Maybe something embarrassing that he can use against Etho later to embarrass him. Or he thinks maybe it’s for the little gentle moments like this; if he allows himself to get sappy about it. Blame it on the horse course. Nostalgia is far more powerful than he cares to admit.

Bdubs picks up a second comb and tends to his own horse, copying Etho’s movements and pretending they aren't his own— pretending he hadn’t taught Etho how to do it.

“Can’t believe we finally finished a project,” he says after a moment. Speaking of nostalgia.

Etho doesn’t look at him, but Bdubs can hear his hesitation. “It’s been a long time coming.” Then, Bdubs hears the smile in his voice— sees it when Etho turns his face toward him. “Guess we broke the curse after-all. It’s a lot more fun than I remember.”

There’s nothing inherently exciting about all of it: a pair of old friends at a new haunt. But it’s a starting point, a simple pleasure Bdubs is eager to indulge in. It’s just them, and for Bdubs that’s okay. Even if he’s lost, even if Etho’s as coy and teasing as he always is. Especially if. He wouldn’t have Etho any other way.

Bdubs steps away from his horse and fetches a few bundles of wheat to feed them. He moves beside Etho and places them in his hand. Etho glances at him, perplexed. His cheeks are red; lasting effects of an afternoon spent in the sun. Bdubs clears his throat and takes Etho’s hand in his. “What? All this time riding and you never learned how to feed a horse before?” Bdubs shakes his head. “Do I really have to show you everything?”

Etho doesn’t answer, but Bdubs is sure he’s done this before. He knows how to feed a horse— he has to. But Bdubs will look for any excuse to tease Etho, to invade his personal space. And maybe Etho will accept any chance to let him. So he lets Bdubs flatten his palm and press his fingers together. Then, he sets the wheat on it, using a grip on Etho’s wrist to guide it to the horse’s mouth. Etho flinches when it eats right out of his hand.

Bdubs snickers. “Gotta keep your fingers together. Like this,” he says, displaying the proper technique with his own hand. Because if he doesn’t teach Etho how to do it, no one else will. “Or else they’ll bite your stupid fingers off.” “Right,” Etho sighs. “I kinda need those.”

“It’d suck if you lost ‘em all before you finished your… redstone junk. Whatever science experiment you’re working on.” Bdubs feeds his own horse, never taking his teasing eye off of Etho. “Got any crazy ideas brewing?” He asks because he knows it’s one of few things to get Etho to start talking. It works, because it always works; though the certainty of it hasn’t made it any less novel for Bdubs. He lets Etho talk his ear off (about redstone, about alien architecture, about the dolphin highway circling his base), because Etho doesn’t always talk a lot but he always seems to be talking around Bdubs. And he fully intends on abusing this power.

He could demand another rematch. He could flaunt Etho’s fake-victory over his head, like taking candy from a baby. Because really Etho is incredibly easy to tease and taunt. But it’s peaceful here. In the sunset, in the horse course. A rematch can wait.

He’ll beat him next time.

#its nothing special but i had to do it #this might be the only fluff you ever get from me #ethoslab #etho #bdubs #bdoubleo100 #ethdubs fic #ethubs fic #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #it's not intended to be hermitshipping #but you can interpret it however you want #birdie writes #ethubs #ethdubs

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thesupreme316 · 1 year

Note

Could I have some of your favourite wrestlers reacting to the fem!reader heel turn

I GOT U (sorry for how long it took me)

Pairing(s): Hook x Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Eddie Kingston x Fem!Reader (Platonic), Darius Martin x Fem!Reader (Platonic), Dante Martin x Fem!Reader (Platonic), Daniel Garcia x Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Samoa Joe x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: How would these men react to you turning heel?

Word Count: 849

Supreme Speaks: hiiiii, I might do these reaction scenarios more often cause this was fun to write (so please send in more). To @hookerforhook sorry that this took me so long but its here neow. Also I hope everyone is doing well and please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: slightly proofread, gifs are not mine, i repeat gifs ARE NOT MINE

Taglist (if you wanna be a part of it, lemme know): @hookerforhook @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @wwenhlimagines @triscillal

To the locker room and the AEW fans, your character was a very talented wrestler but always saw the good in people. Which often leads you to be hurt physically and emotionally. So after one too many broken hearts, you decided to turn heel.

How you turn heel is completely up to you so choose your adventure (I also included examples). You either…

Attacked your teammate after losing another tag team match (Bayley on Sasha Banks)

Attacked your good friend due to you being jealous of them (anyone really)

Didn’t allow your tag team partner to tag you in the match, making your team lose (Tbh I could find an exact moment but Layla on AJ Lee)

Attacked the referee and your opponent after losing the title match (Michelle McCool on Maria/Becky Lynch on Charlotte)

You got offered a better deal by the rival team and decided to take it (Seth Rollins on the Shield)

Eddie Kingston

This man would be so calm about it

*after you attacked your friend* “Well, they had it coming”

Would not see you differently

In fact he would just be happy that you’re whooping ass and you’re not taking any shit from people

Still keeps it 100 with you about things

“If you attack them from behind, then you’re a coward. But if you hit them in the face, then you’re a real one”

In his eyes, you’re not a heel but you’re not a face

You’re just a person going through emotions and decided to let them out

Eddie understands you cause no one is truly/fully on one side or the other

I think Eddie would just say as long as you don’t hurt him physically or emotionally, then you’re good

Overall…Eddie is happy you chose violence as your answer

Hook

It’ll definitely surprise him

He didn’t take you one for being a heel

But isn’t mad at the idea

Silent with his opinions

But tbh I think he would believe the whole 180 change with you is hot

“You look very good…Almost too good.”

Will tell you that he likes the aggressive yet playful mood you display in the ring now

Loves the change in ring gear and theme song

Will wear your new merch in instagram pictures

Honestly, might inspire him to turn heel himself

Overall…Hook loves to see this new attitude within you

Samoa Joe

OH THIS MAN IS A MENACE

NOW THIS MAN IS AN ACTUAL HEEL

He would automatically smirk and congrats you

“Welcome to the dark side”

I genuinely believe he would become a fan of you

Constantly reference you or just show his support on twitter (cause that man is a menace)

Gives you tips on how to appear more of a threat to your opponents

I believe that this Joe would become a mentor

100% would teach you the Coquina Clutch

Will laugh when you embarrass your opponent

“I taught them that! I did that!”

Overall…Samoa Joe would be that supportive father who’s just happy you joined him

Top Flight (Darius and Dante Martin)

OKAY HERE ME OUT….they are all for it IM JUST SAYIN-

At first, Darius and Dante would be sad about it

Would be more saddened at the fact you have to stand across the ring from them instead of next to them

But will recognize that you are happier and are getting a lot more credit and camera time because of the turn

Will put your overall happiness over how they feel

Will still hang out with you behind the cameras (obvi)

Helps you decide on new moves or highflying moves you can do

Will hype you up backstage as you kick ass

“Kick her in the face Y/N!”

Will post pictures of you with the caption “We stan with Y/N”

Overall…Top Flight will be so supportive of you no matter what

Daniel Garcia

MENACE PT.2

“I CALLED IT”

Would immediately offer you a spot in JAS (please decline…)

Like Joe, Daniel would also reference you in tweets

I would like to believe that he would also start flirting with you

Just full on rizz game on 100

“I may not be a photographer, but I can picture us together.”

Like Hook, would also believe this new attitude of yours is hot

Makes fun of your opponents and taunt them backstage (in effort to get you to join JAS, again say no)

Will also make fun of you (lightheartedly) and compare you to him

Will retweet you and start a banter with you just for shits and giggles

“So you think you can take my place as AEW’s favorite child?” “You were never anyone’s favorite.” “Take that back!”

Overall…Daniel would become infatuated with you and is happy for you

#aew #all elite wrestling #all elite wrestling imagines #daniel garcia #daniel garcia x reader #daniel garcia imagine #eddie kingston #eddie kingston x reader #eddie kingston imagine #aew hook #aew hook x reader #aew hook imagine #samoa joe #samoa joe imagine #top flight #top flight aew #darius martin imagine #dante martin imagine

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infiniteeight8 · 5 months

Note

I loved your Titan/Infinity Stone AU! Any more ideas or inspiration for that 'verse?

Okay, I made you wait 6 days for it, but at least it's longer than usual! Here's more, with another appearance of the Soul Stone, as promised. Not much shippy in this one, though.

Edited to add links to: Part 1 Part 2

Stephen abruptly looks past Tony and yells, “Stop!”

Tony twists, one gauntlet coming up defensively, and sees that the Guardians have broken away from their discussion and are now standing over Thanos and the gauntlet that still adorns the corpse. The guy, Star-Lord maybe, is bending down. He doesn’t stop when Stephen yells, either, instead pulling the gauntlet off of Thanos’s hand and straightening up with it.

Stephen launches himself up off the rock he’d been sharing with Tony and strides over to them. “Trying to use that could kill us all,” he snaps sharply. “Even with the gauntlet, we’re not made to contain that kind of power.”

“Look, I’ve held an Infinity Stone before,” Star-Lord retorts. “I’m not all human, okay? All I want to do is get Gamora back, I’m not going to try to change half the universe.”

“There’s more than one stone on that gauntlet,” Stephen says. “Even if you knew how each of them worked, which I highly doubt, you know nothing about making them work together.”

Star-Lord takes an aggressive step towards Stephen. “For Gamora, I’m willing to take the risk!”

Stephen looks like he’s winding up for a fight, but then the lady with the antennae gasps. “Peter! The Soul Stone!”

“What?” Star-Lord—Peter, Tony guesses—looks down at the gauntlet and then swears, clutching it in both hands. The Soul Stone is gone. “Where the hell could it have gone?” He demands. “Gamora died for that thing, we can’t just lose it!”

Tony knows where the stone is, of course, but he’s not about to volunteer that without more information. Stephen knows, too, as the bearer of the Time Stone, but he keeps quiet as well.

You want to fill me in? Tony asks silently.

Gamora was one of those offered to me as I starved, the Soul Stone replies. It doesn’t sound remorseful, only matter of fact.

Are they right? Can you bring back the dead? The thought sends a chill through Tony. As much as he would love to get back people he’d lost, there was no one he trusted with that kind of power, and he had no illusions about the lengths people would go to to get a hold of it.

No, the stone says, thank God. But Gamora is not dead in the usual sense. She was sacrificed to me, and I hold all the souls so given.

Tony hasn’t decided yet, but he figures he ought to have all the information before he does. Could you give this one back?

Yes. But Reality would need to make her a new body. The old one is no longer serviceable.

Does Reality need a bearer for that? Tony isn’t thrilled at the idea of any of this group—now shouting at each other and Stephen while Star-Lord digs around in the dirt as if the Stone might have just fallen out of the gauntlet—the Reality Stone.

No. I could ask. They would probably agree. Moreso, if Time asks as well.

Tony blows out a breath and then drags Stephen away from the argument. They let him go, fortunately. Tony lowers his voice. “The Soul Stone says it can bring her back, since it was the one that killed her,” he says. “But it needs Reality to do it. It says it would help if Time asked, too. What do you think?”

Stephen casts a wary glance at the other group. “I think we have two more or less cooperative Infinity Stones, and they have three Infinity Stones, plus the gauntlet,” he murmurs. “That’s a fight I’d rather avoid. And… it would be nice to get someone back from this whole mess.”

“Yeah,” Tony says. For a moment, all he can feel is exhausted. “Yeah, it would.”

Turning, Tony eyes the arguing group. Maybe it would be better to just… take care of things, rather than jump into that. You need me to be hands-on with Reality? he asks the Soul Stone.

No, it replies. You wish me to return Gamora to this world?

Yes. Tony remembers the Soul Stone talked about being free. Please. This won’t hurt you? You mentioned being starved of purpose.

I do not need to consume souls, it reassures him. Thank fuck, because Tony hadn’t even thought to ask about that before. Merely be among them. Touch them, sometimes. Returning this one will have great impact on their souls.

Let’s do it, then.

Tony’s right gauntlet, where the Soul Stone is hidden, lights up with an orange glow. Then Stephen’s amulet does the same, in green. Just as Star-Lord and his group notice, Thanos’s gauntlet lights up red. He shouts and drops it. Red light beams out of Thanos’s gauntlet and collides mid-air with orange beams shooting out of Tony’s . They twine together, so brightly they make Tony squint, and then abruptly disappear, leaving a green skinned woman in their wake.

Is she supposed to be green? Tony asks silently. The Soul Stone sends him a wordless affirmation; everything is as it should be.

Star-Lord and the rest shout and mob the green woman. A happy reunion, it looks like.

Peter—not Star-Lord, Peter Parker—quietly sidles up between Tony and Stephen while the others are still celebrating. “I’m really glad they got their friend back,” he says. “But does anyone know how we’re supposed to get home? Because I’m pretty sure all the ships we brought, you know,” he makes an illustrative hand gesture, “crashed.”

(I confess, I have a bunch more ideas for this AU. Feel free to prompt, either in general or with specific things in this AU.)

#IronStrange

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floralseokjin · 2 years

Text

⤑ 9 months to fall in love 9.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov words; 12,456

warnings/includes (!) Jungkook could flirt with a wall, jealous Seokjin x2, subtle touches, kisses, Oc has Horny Thoughts, way too many thoughts of straddling him – is it hormones or just Seokjin?, a 12-week prenatal appointment, minor weight mentions e.g. hips expanding, boobs getting bigger, Yoonjin interactions, drunk Seokjin, Yoongi the taxi driver

⟶ ao3 link

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’

↪︎ series index

SEASON TWO ⇤ previous | next ⇥

Phone ready in hand, you were already mentally typing out the text in your head as you approached the AGS building. Seokjin said he would meet you outside at quarter past twelve, but you’d left work too early, or maybe you’d just walked exceptionally fast today. Either way, it was only 12:10 and you were here.

But so was he.

As you got closer to the entrance, you recognised his figure leaning against the building. His long legs were crossed at the ankles, his hands casually dug inside the pocket of his black slacks. On top he was wearing a blue button up shirt which strained impressively over his shoulders. He wasn’t wearing a tie, you realised slowly, and the first two buttons were loose, revealing a small triangle of skin. Maybe he’d taken it off for lunch.

He was looking out across the street, but as you approached, he turned his head, noticing you before greeting you with the biggest, most breath-taking smile. Your knees felt weak and your stomach fizzed. A similar feeling to drinking too much soda too fast. Was this what it would be like now? It was a few days after you’d spontaneously rushed over to his apartment and apologised. A few days after you’d shared a kiss – or kisses, plural. You hadn’t seen him in person since, but you’d messaged back and forth every day, and he’d called you every evening.

You’d always been aware of how good-looking Seokjin was, you weren’t blind to his objective beauty, but now that awareness had been heightened to almost unbearable levels. You even felt a little coy as you smiled back, coming to a halt beside him. “I was just about to text you.”

He lifted himself off the wall, his smile turning crooked, his tone teasing when he responded. “I’ve been stood out here for ten minutes.” You scoffed quietly and slipped your phone back inside your purse. “You look pretty.”

The casualness of his statement threw you for a moment, but it didn’t stop your face from feeling all hot and prickly. Before you could reply however, he asked how you were.

“Nervous. Sweating. But that could be because it’s pretty hot out,” you replied honestly, lifting your cardigan by its sides to fan it about, hoping to catch some breeze. It was still spring but the weather was turning.

Seokjin laughed. “I already told you there’s nothing to be nervous about. Come on.” He pulled a hand out of one pocket to gesture you to follow him inside. “Jungkook isn’t here yet anyway, so you’ll only have to deal with Hoseok for now. He’s the normal one out of the three of us.”

You pulled an uncertain face but started walking. You had agreed to meet his friends after all. You just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Your nerves had been made worse when you’d found out you’d be having lunch inside Seokjin’s building. Namjoon had been kind enough to grant you an extra hour, shaking his head in mock disproval. “You’re using these boss-friend privileges left and right lately.”

Speaking of work, Sera’s permanent absence was wonderful. The best part was she’d seemed to have taken Seokjin’s warning seriously and disappeared off the face of the earth. Yuna had made you tell the ‘restraining order story’ at least ten times already, embellishing it with her own adlibs and details each time. Things at the office were pretty much back to normal, last week’s blow-up forgotten and your pregnancy conveniently ignored. Almost. You knew a handful of your co-workers were desperate to ask you details, but unfortunately for them, that privilege went to Namjoon only – and Yoongi, slightly. Things with him were still a little awkward, which was to be expected considering everything that had happened, but you were hoping they’d get better. It didn’t stop you from feeling guilty though. You’d bounced back surprisingly easily, and everything seemed to be falling into place for you now, while Yoongi was still very obviously struggling with what had happened. You’d thought about bringing it up with him but in the end stopped yourself. You would bet he didn’t want to dwell on anything, and by continuously talking about it you knew you’d be no help. That, and you wanted to forget about it completely. You wanted to move on with your life and concentrate on you and your baby. And Seokjin… Whatever that meant.

The front of the AGS building was mostly glass, and from the outside you couldn’t tell how many floors it was. It was quadruple the size of Artkive’s building though, and while that was a refurbished warehouse home to a number of separate businesses, this building was entirely dedicated to all of the different AGS departments. The inside was also vastly different you noticed, as you stepped through the doors, the air con hitting you immediately, cool and refreshing. The office space at work was made up of exposed red brick and half windows, but here the interior was sleek and monochrome, the ceilings sky high. The lobby was filled with people, groups dotted around the couches and chairs to the left of the room, either having casual meetings or friendly chats – maybe both. Very quiet music was playing from speakers in the wall, but you couldn’t make out what. To the right was a long reception desk, which Seokjin made a beeline for. You followed, trying to take everything in, feeling a mixture of overwhelmed and awestruck. This place was impressive and you’d barely stepped foot inside.

There were a few receptionists behind the desk, some on the phone, some preoccupied with employees and visitors. Seokjin addressed the first available one – a young man maybe in his early twenties with red hair and glasses. “I’m going to take a long lunch, so if anyone wants me, tell them I’ll be done by 2.”

“Will do, Mr. Kim,” the man smiled, his eyes glancing over at you as Seokjin placed a hand on the small of your back and walked you along. In fact, you could sense quite a few pairs of curious eyes on you as he guided you towards an elevator. You pretended not to notice, smiling friendly at anyone you made eye contact with.

The fine hairs on the back of your neck pricked up when you heard Seokjin’s voice in your ear. “I don’t have many personal visitors here besides Jungkook. I guess I’ll be the topic of many a conversation today.”

You chuckled, watching him press for the elevator before meeting his eyes. “Am I your mysterious woman?”

Were you flirting? You couldn’t tell.

He looked a little bashful, laughing quietly at your remark. Yet, when he replied, his voice was low and teasing. “It would seem so.”

The doors opened and he motioned for you to step in first. Still feeling a little playful, you realised belatedly that you weren’t Seokjin’s only female guest this week. The father of your baby was going to be the subject of gossip for a little while longer you presumed… But determined not to think of Sera for a second longer – and ever again hopefully – you mentally shook your head and grinned at Seokjin. The elevator was spacious, but he was stood right next to you.

“Were you sick this morning?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I woke up feeling queasy, but fingers crossed I’m over the worst of it.”

Not too long until you hit the second trimester, you were praying that would be the end of your nausea. The sickness had seemed to stop this week, maybe thanks to Seokjin’s googled remedies, but you were still fed up with waking up feeling gross and having to work through it until it eased off around midmorning. Although, at least your appetite hadn’t totally disappeared on you. These past few days you’d been craving spicy food – Yuna had even caught you chewing on a chilli pepper last night. Knowing Glob didn’t have bland taste buds made you feel extra proud.

When the elevator doors opened, your nerves started to appear again. Logically, you knew there was nothing to be nervous about, but meeting new people outside of the professional sense still freaked you out a little. These were Seokjin’s best friends, their opinion on you mattered. You tried to distract yourself by looking at your surroundings, taking it all in. This floor was almost entirely open planned, walls a bright white, the décor pops of primary colours. There were glass panels separating certain sections, creating workstations, although not one single person was here. The glass was imprinted with the AGS logo – the head of a white alpaca wearing a neckerchief. Seokjin had already told you all about the famous mascot connected with his company – RJ, the main character of the first ever game he’d coded as a teenager. The adorable alpaca had followed him throughout his professional career, even helping with the name of his company – Alpaca Gaming Studios. You thought it was such a sentimental and precious detail, summing up Seokjin perfectly.

Noticing your stolen attention, Seokjin nudged your shoulder with his. “Maybe after work one day I can give you a tour – when nobody’s around.”

“Ominous,” you commented, making him laugh. “But yes, I’d love that. This place is amazing.” Side-eying him, you added slyly: “Mr. Kim.”

He seemed to choke on his own spit for a moment, a hand reaching up to tug at the collar of his shirt before he let out a small laugh. Without realising it, you’d stopped outside a door at the furthest end of the floor. “I thought we’d eat somewhere more comfortable than my office. This floor hardly gets used but the conference room is nice.”

“Sounds great.” Although, a peek at his office would have been better.

“I think Hobi’s inside waiting for us.” He paused and you took a steadying breath, freaking out yet again. “Don’t be nervous. On a scale of 1 to Yuna, they’re in the minuses. I promise.” That successfully made you laugh, and his mouth stretched into a smile. “That’s better.” He gripped the handle of the door, but paused before he turned it, glancing at you before speaking in a soft whisper. “Thank you.”

You found it odd of him to say such a thing, but before you could question it, he was opening the door and stepping inside. A slender man with dark short hair was sitting at the table, scrolling on an iPad, but he snapped his head up as you both stepped inside.

“Hi.” His smile was big and friendly, and he stood up to make his way towards you.

Seokjin gestured with his hands. “Hoseok, ____. ____, Hoseok.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you managed to say as Hoseok outstretched his hand. His handshake was gentle but firm, hand a little cold.

“You too.”

He smiled wider and your mind was tripping over itself to think of things to say, things that alluded to your knowledge of him. Things that Seokjin had told you. You knew that they had been friends ever since they were babies, their families life-long friends. He was dating someone and it was getting serious, even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud. He was the one who kept Seokjin organised and under control, which surprised you, because Seokjin always seemed organised and under control to you. Jungkook was your age, and he and Seokjin had been friends for around 8 years after Jungkook did some work for AGS. He had his own business, a video production company, but annoyingly you couldn’t remember its name. Golden something… Regardless, impressively he had already been a millionaire by 21. He also liked to flirt. Seokjin had warned you in advance, because according to him, Jungkook could successfully flirt with a wall if he put his mind to it.

“Sit,” Seokjin motioned, interrupting your thoughts and pulling out a chair opposite Hoseok’s. The table was large enough to fit at least twelve, but all three of you occupied one end. You sat, sinking into the plush fabric, as Seokjin took a seat beside you. “Jungkook shouldn’t be long. He’s bringing the food.”

“He should’ve been here fifteen minutes ago,” Hoseok humphed, making you laugh. Although it sounded unnatural and high-pitched. You realised awkwardly that you were trying too hard.

You felt Seokjin move closer to you, taking your hand under the table. You jolted, not expecting it, but relaxed as soon as you felt his warm fingers wrap around yours. “You know what he’s like,” he shrugged, addressing Hoseok.

For the next few minutes, you participated in stunted conversation. Hoseok seemed the friendly type, but it was very obvious he struggled with small talk, or at least felt a little awkward. It occurred to you that even though you felt like the odd one out in this situation, Hoseok might feel that way too. He kept casting glances at you both when Seokjin said something to you or when you laughed together. That realisation comforted you for some reason, and you started to ease up, your interactions becoming more natural.

Then the door burst open and a man with a mop of black hair appeared. He was dressed casually, all in black, tattoos running down one arm. He didn’t look as though he’d be best friends with the other two men in the room, not that his appearance caused reason for judgement at all. He looked great. In fact, noticing his eyebrow piercing along with his row of ear piercings made you think of Yuna. A few years ago, she’d have eaten someone like him alive. He was just her type until she met and fell head over heels for the sophisticated Jimin.

“Finally. Took you long enough,” Seokjin said, sounding uncharacteristically annoyed.

“I got distracted. Haram wanted to chat.” He was holding two bags of food in one hand, the name of a very popular Mexican restaurant printed on them. Your stomach nearly growled in anticipation.

But wait. Haram? Where did you recognise that name…? Oh. The girl who had answered the phone to you all those weeks ago! You internally cringed when you remembered the awkward memory.

“’Course she did,” Hoseok said doubtfully, but Jungkook wasn’t listening, his attention now on you as he shot you a bright, eager smile. With his face lit up like that, he looked younger, innocent, not suiting those giant combat boots he had on his feet at all. Wasn’t he boiling to death?!

“You must be ____.” He stepped closer.

“That I am.”

Oh God, why did you say it like that?

“I’m Jungkook.” His smile turned into something of a smirk. “But I guess you already know that?”

You raised an eyebrow. He was definitely something.

“Just give me the food.” Seokjin’s impatient voice cut through the introduction, his hand that had still been holding yours, lifting to reach for the bags.

“Rude,” Jungkook tutted, handing them over. “Can’t you see I’m trying to introduce myself to the mother of your child?” Seokjin ignored him, starting to place containers of food on the table. Jungkook took the seat next to Hoseok but moved it around the edge of the table, closer to you. “I was beginning to think we’d never get to meet you.”

Before you could reply, Seokjin was talking again. “How much do I owe you, Kook?”

“No need. It’s my treat.”

Seokjin looked cynical. “You never treat.”

“We have a guest! A new member of the gang!” He drummed his hands on top of the table excitedly and it genuinely made you laugh. “____, have you ever seen Three Men and a Baby?”

“Not this again,” Hoseok sighed. He looked over at you. “I told him to get his own baby.”

“Hey, uncle privileges.”

“Kook,” Seokjin warned lowly. “You need to work up to uncle privileges. You’re a stranger.”

“What? Like you weren’t a stranger to her up until a couple of months ago?”

You couldn’t help it, you snorted loudly, making Seokjin look at you cluelessly. “He has a point,” you laughed, and it wasn’t long before he joined in, reluctantly agreeing.

You all started to eat, sharing the variety of dishes spread between you all. You had to give it to him, Jungkook was an impressive mood maker. He didn’t stop talking and joking around, and to your surprise, Seokjin seemed like a totally different person around him. There was no need to wonder how they were best friends after spending a few minutes in their company. Affectionate bickering seemed to be their love language. Hoseok was the calm, maybe slightly judgemental friend, who kept them in line when things got too rowdy. Watching their dynamic was interesting – and extremely enjoyable.

“____, try this.” Jungkook was holding out a container of what looked like stuffed peppers that were possibly battered. “Jin said you’ve been craving spicy food, and these are like a ten million on the Scoville scale. They’re filled with cheese.”

You dropped one onto your plate, smothering it in salsa. “The baby might like it,” you agreed, and then smiled over at Seokjin, surprised but definitely touched by the fact he’d been telling his friends about any pregnancy updates.

“Probably already has a better tolerance than his dad,” Jungkook muttered.

You turned towards Seokjin this time, surprised, and your knee jutted into his thigh. “Awh, can’t you handle spicy food, Seokjin? You never told me.”

“I can,” he insisted, his face flushing a little with the teasing lilt of your voice. “A little.” He brought a spoonful of rice to his mouth. “I’m fine.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Sure, Jan. Just stick to your mild guacamole.”

You, he, and Hoseok burst out laughing, before you felt mean and squeezed Seokjin’s thigh. He reached down his hand and kept you there for a moment, playing with your fingers until you both realised you needed said hand to continue eating.

Seokjin leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, and you noticed how adorably red his chest was. “You should have asked Kang to come along,” he said to Hoseok.

“And make me the fifth wheel? No chance.” Jungkook shook his head.

“I’m sure you are more than capable of finding a last-minute lunch date,” Hoseok quipped.

Jungkook contemplated that for a moment, his eyebrows lifting. “I can think of one that’s just a few floors down.”

“No way,” Seokjin laughed. “You know everyone inside this place is off limits after last time.”

“What happened last time?” you asked curiously.

Jungkook averted his gaze, trailing his fork around his food. “Nothing.”

You looked up at Seokjin, even more curious now. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I’ll tell you later.”

Jungkook’s head shot up accusingly. “I heard that.”

You smiled innocently. “You heard nothing.”

Jungkook burst out laughing and addressed Seokjin. “I can’t believe you hid her away from us!”

“I didn’t,” he chuckled.

Attention now back on you, Jungkook rested an elbow on the table, chin in hand. “I must say ____, pregnancy becomes you.”

“You’ve only ever seen me pregnant,” you laughed.

“You’re glowing.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his behaviour. “You’re good at compliments.”

“Do you think?” His mouth twitched into a semi-smirk, voice low.

Hoseok coughed, interrupting the conversation. “Kook, pass me some more napkins.”

You leaned back in your chair as Jungkook grabbed a handful of napkins, mentally chuckling. He was unstoppable. Was it instinct to flirt with every woman he set his eyes on? He meant no harm, you knew that, but you still glanced at Seokjin, wondering what he thought of it. He was busy eating, but as though he sensed your gaze, his eyes flick to yours.

“What?” he asked quietly.

You smiled. “You have some mild guacamole on your nose.”

“Do I?” His eyes widened, lifting a hand to wipe it with his fingers. “Where?”

“No, I’m only messing around,” you giggled – giggled – moving his hand away with yours. He guided both underneath the table and then let go to cup your thigh. It stayed there as you both continued eating, his touch warm and agreeable.

“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Seokjin beamed, stepping closer to you to avoid walking into someone who was too distracted with their phone call to pay attention to where they were going.

Lunch over, Seokjin had insisted on walking you back to work, and eager to be alone with him again, you’d immediately accepted. You hoped he wasn’t so busy next week because you missed seeing him. A faint feeling of panic niggled your brain, but you forced it away. It was okay to grow attached to him, you knew that now. Nothing bad would come from relying on him.

“I guess,” you shrugged, but couldn’t stop your own smile. Meeting Hoseok and Jungkook had been fun, you’d had nothing to worry about. They were great.

“I did tell you Jungkook could flirt with inanimate objects, didn’t I?”

“And here I was thinking I was special,” you joked.

Seokjin chuckled, but there was something half-hearted about it. “You seemed to get along though? He made you laugh a lot.”

You dipped your chin, watching your feet as you tried to stifle a laugh. Was that jealousy you detected? “Busted. I like funny men.” Looking up though, you couldn’t take his crestfallen face, linking your arm through his impulsively. “But I know someone funnier.”

He took the bait, smile growing again. You didn’t pull away, nor did he, and you continued walking, joined together. In the space of a few days, days you’d been absent from one another, it seemed it was now normal to seek out one another’s touch. It was new, and you liked it, and it made you wonder why you hadn’t been doing it from the beginning? With him things just seemed to come naturally. Things you once thought of as scary, things you thought you’d never feel, things you thought would never happen again. It all felt so easy now.

“If I had to choose,” you started casually, “out of the two, I’d probably pick Hoseok – but don’t tell Jungkook.”

Seokjin sighed gravely, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can do that. I’ll rub it in for a week.”

You laughed, nudging him, but it was the reaction you’d been imagining. You’d only been in their company for less than two hours, but it was more than enough to understand their dynamic. “You’re different around them,” you noted, tilting your head in consideration.

It was to be expected, his friends had known him for years, that connection meant something – you only had to look at you and Yuna. You were different around her too. Different to what you were with Seokjin.

“How so?” He seemed genuinely interested.

“Not in a bad way,” you explained. “I liked seeing you like that, it was new.”

You were surprised to see he looked worried. “Was I being too childish?”

“No,” you laughed. “But you are…more serious around me, don’t you think?” You didn’t really know how to explain it.

Seokjin shrugged. “That’s because I like being taken seriously around you.”

“You’re telling me you’re a CEO and you’re not taken seriously enough?”

“No, not like that,” he chuckled, sounding coy. “I just…like the way I am around you.”

You guess he didn’t know how to explain himself either, but that was all right, you were sure you understood perfectly, because you felt the same way. You liked how you were with him.

Squeezing his arm, you grinned. “I like it too.”

It wasn’t long before you reached Artkive, and you stopped outside the doors, feeling embarrassingly expectant. You knew you’d both agreed to just let things happen if they felt right, but you were a little hazy on the details. You’d shared one kiss already (technically multiple) so did that mean there would be others? Or had that just been a one-time thing, having been caught up in the moment? Did you have to wait until another moment? Was this one right now? Why were you even expecting a kiss? Had you been expecting one all day? All week?

Stop it, you scolded yourself, you’re thinking too much again!

Lost in a whirlwind of your own annoying thoughts, you barely heard the friendly voice behind you, jumping slightly, when one of your co-workers appeared by your side. “Hey, ____. Enjoy your lunch?”

It was Mari, the accountant, grinning at you warmly. She was by far the oldest member of your team, a friend of Namjoon’s mom, not that her age mattered. She was lovely and treated everyone at the office like they were her children. Still, you felt a little bitter she’d interrupted a potential “moment.”

“Oh, yes, thank you,” you smiled, then realised she was waiting for you so you could walk in together. Reluctantly, you turned to Seokjin. “Speak to you later?”

He nodded. “I’ll call you.” With a smile your way, then Mari’s, he turned around and started walking away. Holding back a sigh of dismay, you followed Mari inside. What was up with you?

“He’s a very beautiful young man,” Mari commented casually, and you nearly choked. “How long have you been together?”

Oh no. The moment you’d been dreading was happening. You hoisted a tight smile on your face. “Oh, we’re not. We’re just friends.”

Friends who kissed. Friends who touch hands and thighs and link arms… Friends who once had sex – twice – when you were strangers. Friends who were now having a baby together.

“Oh.” To give it to her, she hid her surprise well, chuckling softly to herself as the elevator doors opened and you stepped inside. “Things are so different with you kids these days. Artificial insemination, was it?”

This time you really did choke. So much for pretending as though your pregnancy didn’t exist. “No,” you managed to answer, feeling your face heat up, which was silly really. Sex was sex. So what?

Unbelievably, Mari winked your way. “Well, it is more fun that way, huh?” As she broke into laughter, you couldn’t help but join in.

When you got back to your desk you took out your phone, needing to share the story with Seokjin ASAP.

Mari, the lovely woman who interrupted us—

You stopped, rethinking your phrasing. It seemed as though you were irritated by what had happened. You mean, you were, but he didn’t need to know that. You tried again and hit send.

Mari, the woman you just saw asked me if we’d used artificial insemination to get pregnant. Awkward.

Your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Seokjin 2:05pm And did you correct her? 😉

Only Seokjin could get away with using the winking face emoji.

Of course. She winked and said it’s more fun that way…

Seokjin 2:06pm I’m inclined to agree

At his reply, your stomach dipped, and involuntarily you squeezed your thighs together. Could this be considered sexting?

No, seriously, what was up with you?!

You were thankfully saved from yourself when Namjoon made his way over and asked how lunch had gone.

To your bitter disappointment, over the next couple of weeks, there were no more kisses. Not that you were alone very much to begin with. Seokjin had multiple important deadlines so the only time you got to see him was for a quick lunch here or a late dinner there. The weekends weren’t any better because you were wedding dress hunting with Yuna. Her and Jimin had decided on this time next year for the wedding, so it was all systems go. As maid of honour, your role was of ‘upmost importance’ – something she kept repeating daily. It was already exhausting, and you hadn’t even decided on a colour for the bridesmaid dresses yet – not that you’d be able to fit into anything once your bump started expanding!

The fact you were already 12 weeks pregnant was unbelievable. Time seemed to be going faster by the day, so before you knew it, your next prenatal appointment with Dr. Choi was due. This time it fell on a weekday, so Namjoon had kindly given you the afternoon off. Seokjin’s schedule was easing up slightly, so thankfully he was able to attend too. It would have killed him to miss it, you knew that. He was equally as excited as you to see how much Glob had grown and hadn’t been able to stop going on about it last night on the phone.

This time the check-up was a lot less in-depth, and the ultrasound was done externally. The gel was cold, but it was hardly noticeable once you saw your baby again – wriggling away happily. You were unable to hold back your tears once you heard the steady thump of their heartbeat, overcome with emotion, and laughing weakly at yourself. Seokjin laced your fingers with his, giving them a soothing squeeze, and when you looked over at him you noticed his eyes were shiny, just as emotional as you. You left the doctor’s office with two matching sonograms and an updated due date – a few days before Seokjin’s birthday.

Even though Seokjin needed to be back to work soon, you spent the next ten minutes sat in his car studying every inch of the photo together. You could easily make out the head and body, see their tiny nose, and even a hand, where during the ultrasound it had looked like Glob was waving at you. They looked like an actual baby now, and it was astonishing to think this tiny human was inside of you, baking away contentedly.

“They’re looking less Glob shaped by the second,” you said wistfully as you tucked the photo back inside your purse.

Seokjin chuckled, clipping his seatbelt in place. “Let’s not give up on the nickname yet. I’ve grown quite fond of it.”

“Yuna’s good for some things then,” you commented sardonically as you tried to do the same, making him laugh once more. You tugged your belt a second time when it got stuck. Then again, but it didn’t budge. “The belt’s jammed.”

“Is it?” He undid his own. “Want me to try?”

When you nodded, he leaned over, crowding your space which you had zero problems with. The faint scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, and something tugged in your lower stomach. Was it hope? An urge? Desire? You watched the side of his face as he fought with the seatbelt, able to even take a waft of his shampoo he was so close. His hair was getting longer again, not quite how it had been before, but it was getting there, and you secretly hoped he wouldn’t cut it again any time soon. It looked soft, slightly tousled, and you fought the urge to reach forward and thread your fingers through it.

What the hell was wrong with you?

One kiss – three kisses! – and you’d turned into something you couldn’t understand nor explain. Ever since that night you had been one large mass of expectation. Anticipating more that never seemed to come. Sometimes you’d lie in bed and think about it. The warmth of his soft lips, the heat of his wet tongue. How he’d kissed you so delicately yet deeply your toes ended up curling in pleasure at the memory. If something just feels right and good, then let’s just let it… You thought of his words more than once a day lately, turning them over and ripping them apart in an attempt to analyse their meaning.

Things had changed between you since then, you knew that. You both continuously edged the line of what was considered friendship, whatever that word meant in this instance. You endlessly flirted over text, in your own round-a-bout way – that would have Yuna undoubtably raising a judgemental eyebrow if she ever saw – and even when on the phone together his voice sometimes took on a deeper, suggesting tone that had you giggling as though you were in middle school. Giggling! You never giggled. In person, in public, you’d both often reference That Night, innocently more than anything, but it still managed to rouse memories of his mouth trailing your skin, his bare flesh gliding and pressing against yours, the sound of his groans in your ear.

For one night you’d had him everywhere and now he was nowhere.

“It shouldn’t be doing that. I’ll probably have to get it checked out.”

You blinked, Seokjin’s words taking time to sink in, the click of your belt even longer, and then finally you realised you were staring at him rather accusingly. You relaxed your face, noticing he was still stretched across the car, still in your personal space, and now staring at you straight back. Your breathing hitched when you watched his gaze flit to your mouth.

Yes, things had changed, but there was still something missing.

His lips on yours.

“Hi,” you murmured.

The car suddenly felt small and stuffy, Seokjin’s body heat suffusing the enclosed space and fogging your mind.

“Hi,” he murmured right back, his face definitely closer than what it was moments ago.

You had just enough time to exhale before his mouth pressed firmly to yours, the warmth of it instantly spreading over your skin, blood rushing to the surface. Your body acted without your control, gripping his shirt at the waist, your fingers brushing the firm skin hidden underneath, as the tip of your tongue flicked over his lips, eager for more, eager to taste him. His reaction was instant, the throatiest groan you’d ever heard vibrating against you before he connected your desperate tongues, one hand squeezing your upper arm, the other bracing himself against the window. The angle was awkward, perhaps even uncomfortable for him, but none of that mattered because it was finally happening.

There was nothing wild and ravenous about it, tongues pressing and sliding together at a similar pace they had a couple of weeks ago, but there was an urgency behind each movement that wasn’t quite there before, a need. Was it coming from him or you? Probably you. In your head you were tearing of each other’s clothes, about to mount his lap and start tugging his hair until his roots resisted.

You were so lost in fantasy, you almost didn’t hear the voices from outside, the sound travelling closer by the second. That’s right, reality sunk in, it was mid-afternoon, and you were parked up at the doctor’s office. You tugged at Seokjin’s shirt in an attempt to push him away, but your hand betrayed you and you ended up pulling him closer. He pressed his lips tight against yours, a pretty, unrestrained moan slipping from him, and you wanted to yell at whoever was making their way nearer. The second time you managed to push, your hand thankfully listening, and Seokjin reluctantly pulled himself away, his eyes glassy, brow furrowed in confusion.

“There’s people coming,” you explained in a hushed panic. Not wanting to, but under the impression it was for the best, you wiped your wet mouth, noticing Seokjin didn’t do the same as he slid back into his seat, plump lips shiny. You squeezed your thighs together, watching as a couple hand in hand – your interruption – walked to their car parked in the row in front. Your heart was hammering, and you didn’t know whether it was because of the kiss or the near miss.

You heard Seokjin click his seatbelt into place and chuckle. “What?” you accused.

“Nothing,” he shook his head innocently, starting up the car. It wasn’t until he pulled out of the parking lot did he speak again. “They wouldn’t have seen anything, they weren’t looking.”

“They could have glanced over!”

A smile played on his lips. “But they didn’t.”

“I didn’t want to get caught making out at a doctor’s office,” you hissed in a scandalised voice.

You didn’t want to be banned for inappropriate behaviour – public indecency! Although…if Dr. Choi was the one who found you, it might not be the end of the world… There were plenty more doctor’s offices in this city.

He burst out laughing. “Making out? What are we, twelve?”

You cocked an eyebrow. “You were making out at twelve?”

“No.” His laugh turned into an awkward chuckle, keeping his eye on the road. “You know what I mean.”

You crossed your arms, words slipping out. “If I recall, you wouldn’t kiss me at the bar that night.”

He glanced over in disbelief. “We were surrounded by people!” Excuses. “Besides, it wasn’t so much embarrassment, but more I didn’t know if I’d be able to control myself once I tasted your mouth.”

Your eyes widened to double their size, not quite believing your ears. One look at the satisfied smirk on his face told you he was loving how speechless he’d made you. “You’re shameless!” you cried, reaching an arm across to bat at his chest.

He snorted, looking over again. “How so?”

“Attention on the road, please, Mr. Kim,” you quipped, squeezing his bicep, muscle flexing in reflexively. “Me and your baby are in your trusted care.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to call tonight,” Seokjin told you once he’d pulled up outside your house, sounding sorry. “I have a family dinner and you’ll probably be asleep by the time I get back.”

“Oh,” you replied, “that’s fine.” You didn’t want him to feel bad about it. He didn’t have to call you every night, it had just become something of a habit over the weeks. Sometimes you even fell asleep while chatting, other times you video called, especially if you hadn’t managed to see one another in a couple of days. Something dawned on you then, a sicky feeling of panic washing over you. “Um. Are you going to tell them?”

Seokjin’s eyebrows raised a fraction, not expecting the question. “I don’t know. Do you want me to tell them?” he asked carefully.

You honestly weren’t sure. You were three months gone, and everything was fine, the baby was healthy. Most people started sharing the news now. Your entire workplace knew. But then again, it wasn’t up to you whether Seokjin wanted to tell his parents or not. It was his decision.

Sensing your apprehension, he tried a different approach. “Are you going to tell your family now?”

“Probably not yet,” you admitted.

Seokjin didn’t question why, and to be honest, if he had, you didn’t know if you could answer. You knew your stepmother would be over the moon with your pregnancy, even if you told her you and Seokjin weren’t together, and you knew your father would be indifferent, just like your siblings. There would be no huge drama, other than Yeonja’s happy, relieved tears. If you were being honest, you were way more nervous anticipating the reaction of Seokjin’s parents. Yet for now, probably until your bump started showing, your pregnancy would be a secret for just a little while longer.

“Then I won’t either,” he shrugged simply.

“No. You don’t have to do that. If you want to tell them, do.”

“I don’t mind waiting some more. Until you’re comfortable.” His hand found your knee, giving it a squeeze. You thought about his tongue. “When you are, we can tell them together if you want? I know my mom would insist on meeting you.”

You tried to smile, but the action felt tight and uncomfortable. The idea of meeting his family was terrifying, which was stupid because they weren’t these rich, untouchable people that your mind insisted on viewing them as. You mean, they were rich, because of Seokjin’s success, but if they were anything like him, you had nothing to worry about. You knew it would have to happen eventually, and you were trying not to freak out, especially now that you’d turned a corner, but just imagining accompanying Seokjin to a family dinner, informing everybody of your shock pregnancy, made you feel as though you were battling morning sickness all over again.

“I just don’t want you to keep secrets from them,” you admitted. Maybe the longer you both waited, the worse it would get.

“It’s not a secret,” he insisted. “They’re not exactly asking every time they see me if I’ve gotten someone pregnant. If anything, they might keel over with shock.” You didn’t find that very funny, grimacing, and he chuckled, the hand still on your knee squeezing again. “I promise everything will be okay.”

He sounded so certain, you couldn’t not have faith in him. “Okay.” This time your smile was a little easier. “I’m going to wait a few more weeks to tell my dad and Yeonja – at least until I can’t get away with it any longer.” You gestured to your stomach.

Seokjin laughed softly, his hand now gliding over your belly, spreading a comforting warmth. “I don’t know how successful that will be. Your bump might hold off, but you won’t. You’re practically glowing, ____.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “That’s a myth.” Jungkook had been the first to mention it, which you had taken no notice of, but then Mari had said something this week, Dr. Choi today, and now even Seokjin was believing that crap.

“Like hell it is.”

“Shut up,” you dismissed, catching a look of yourself in the mirror of the sun visor. Your skin was looking good yes, but that was probably down to all the vitamins you were practically inhaling, and okay, your hair was shinier than it had ever been, but you’d recently purchased a new organic shampoo, so…

Seokjin lifted his hands to cover his face, as if to shield himself from the sun. “I almost can’t look at you, you’re so bright!”

“Seokjin!” you whine-cried.

Your complaints only made him laugh loudly and continue. “A true, real-life angel!”

Okay, now he was just being silly. “Did someone start taking charm lessons from Jungkook?”

“Is it working?” he grinned cheekily. He leaned in. “So, can I kiss you goodbye, or are you afraid we’ll get caught?”

Your stomach started flip-flopping, not quite believing he was being this forward. “One kiss,” you told him, even though you wanted more than that. “I don’t want to give my neighbours reason to gossip.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled, already against your mouth.

The next morning, you found a text from the night before waiting for you.

Seokjin 11:23pm I just got home and I’m EXAUSTED. You’re definitely asleep by now but I just wanted to say goodnight Angel 😇

He was the unbelievable one.

The following week, Seokjin managed to give you that tour of AGS he’d promised you, meeting him after work on Tuesday evening. The first thing you’d noticed was the giant RJ figure that greeted you as you walked through the doors. Say it was down to nerves, because that thing was taller than Seokjin, but you’d managed to walk past it as though it was invisible the first time you’d been here. There honestly wouldn’t be enough time to tour the entire building, unless you wanted to be here until gone midnight, but he showed you the best bits, the fun bits. The entire rooms dedicated to gaming, the trophy room which showcased every single award AGS had won over the years, the humongous cafeteria, a very impressive gym, which you guessed Seokjin made use of sometimes, and then lastly, something called the development centre where updates for existing games got worked on alongside much awaited future games. Generously, Seokjin let you try out something new his team had been working on.

Even though you didn’t know a single thing about video games, you had fun, made even more fun because Seokjin had to help you out. Stood over you, his hot, minty breath on your neck and his warm hands over yours as he directed the controls for you, you could have stayed here for hours. And when the little character you’d been playing as fell out of a tree and sadly didn’t make it, you didn’t feel too disappointed because you had Seokjin consoling you, his gentle voice in your ear, making goosebumps appear and a tingle spread up your spine.

His touch was so soft, you almost didn’t notice the kiss he’d placed on your earlobe until after he’d moved back and apologised.

“Don’t be sorry,” you said, turning your head to look at him. “Weren’t you the one that said if something feels right we should just go for it?”

He was confusing you. One minute he was flirting like crazy, sure of himself and his skill, and the next time you saw him he was apologising for something as tiny as a peck on your ear, looking mortified with himself. You really hoped you didn’t have to wait two more weeks for another kiss, you might just explode! He had started something, and he needed to finish it.

“Well yeah, but my right and your right might be totally different,” he suggested weakly, not meeting your eyes.

You watched him for a moment, trying to make sense of his words. Did he not want to push his luck? Did he think he wanted to kiss you more than you wanted to kiss him? That wasn’t the case at all, but you hadn’t quite reached those levels of frankness to tell him just that. Instead, you went with something simpler. Less compromising.

“I can guarantee you they’re not.”

Seokjin raised his head, his dark eyes unreadable, his grip on the back of your chair tightening. For a moment, neither of you said anything, only stared at one another, and then suddenly, after a ragged breath his lips were on yours. You reacted quickly, winding your hands around his neck, one gripping his shoulder, and he cupped your cheek with his, his thumb tugging at the corner of your mouth so your lips could part.

“I’ve been desperate to do this again,” he confessed, sucking on your bottom lip, your toes curling.

His words made your entire body light up, your fingers digging into him as you moaned against his tongue, attempting to pull him closer. If the back of the chair could just disappear, that would be great. You were just thinking maybe you could switch places and straddle him, when the sound of a vacuum outside the door interrupted you. You pulled away marginally, just as Seokjin did the same, your eyebrows raised in question.

“Cleaners,” he pretty much sighed in response, begrudgingly backing off, running a hand over his face.

Your disappointment was instant, like ice cold water getting dunked over your head.

The next day, you learned of plans for Soobin’s upcoming birthday. Namjoon had booked the upstairs room of a small nightclub last minute, for tomorrow night, Soobin’s weekend fully booked with birthday festivities for it to happen then. He wanted to surprise the younger guy after he’d stepped in as temporary receptionist, which was sweet. Thankfully, Namjoon had hired someone new on Monday, relieving Soobin of his extra duties. Yeeun was in her mid-thirties and had eased into the job seamlessly, which made sense seeing as she’d been a receptionist for ten years at a dental firm up until a month ago when it had gone bust. You’d overheard Namjoon jokingly telling Yoongi to stay away from her Monday afternoon, and to your surprise he had laughed.

In fact, he’d been more like his usual self this past week or so, chatting with everyone once again, smiling and laughing. He no longer hid away at his desk or even his car to eat lunch. He no longer seemed to be avoiding you – or maybe avoiding was an insensitive way of looking at things. You understood he’d needed space to get over everything that had happened, and that meant you as well. Thankfully though, things seemed to be changing. Yesterday you’d even had a small conversation about Glob in the break room as you searched for something to graze on. Morning sickness had disappeared altogether and now you were just hungry 24/7. Things were still pretty awkward between you both and a part of you didn’t know how to act around him after your dual confessions, but acting as you normally would (before all this mess) was probably the best thing to do. You didn’t want to lose your friendship with him. Things would get better, you were sure of it.

“So…maybe you could invite Seokjin?” Namjoon was asking you now, his tone slow and careful, fiddling with a corner of his mousepad that was peeling and curling upwards. “I mean, everyone else is inviting someone. Friends, wives, husbands, partners—Not that I’m saying Seokjin is your significant other,” he panicked, eyes wide, then rallied on, barely taking a breath. “Just that maybe it would be nice for him to meet everyone you work with. We’re all like you’re extended family after all.”

You let out a short, piercing laugh, folding your arms. “Are you saying that you would like to meet him because you’re like my extended family?”

He was so transparent.

“Come on, it’s only fair.” He was pouting slightly. “Yuna’s met him.”

“Not of my own volition,” you insisted. “You know what she’s like.”

His mouth quirked then, not needing to say anything for you to know he agreed. He’d known Yuna for practically the same amount of time he’d known you. On the night you’d introduced them, they’d ended up in bed together, but thankfully they’d both agreed it was only a one-time thing, could forget the fact they’d been naked and sweaty together, and had become friends. You still wished that Yuna hadn’t gone into extremely vivid detail about how hung he was, but you’d also thankfully been able to put that behind you and managed to keep your friendship with him too.

“How is the bride-to-be anyway?” he asked, distracted now. “I haven’t seen her since the engagement party.”

The engagement party had happened before you’d found out you were pregnant, before you’d gone on your wild-goose chase searching for Seokjin – or Jin as you only knew him by back then. It was funny thinking back. It wasn’t too long ago, but so much had changed. So many things had happened. You felt like a different person sometimes.

“She’s Yuna,” you replied, as if that was a befitting enough answer. It was. “Texted me at 4 this morning wanting my thoughts on a traveling seafood station for the wedding reception. Yeah, I don’t know what it is either, but it sounds gross,” you laughed when you noticed Namjoon pulling the most disgusted face you’d ever seen. You forget he hated seafood with a burning passion.

“Tell her I rescind my invitation.”

You left his office promising to ask Seokjin if he’d like to come – if he could make it. Going to a birthday party on a weeknight might be a problem for him, but a very large part of you hoped he would say yes. After all, you had said you wanted him to meet Namjoon soon and yet that opportunity hadn’t come yet. However, as well as your friend, he was now going to meet the entirety of your office too… That was like you meeting every single one of his employees. Or maybe not, because that would probably be impossible, and so, so intimidating! But you had to admit, the thought of Seokjin meeting everyone was a nice one. You had no doubt that they would love him, that man had enviable charm, even if he didn’t realise it, or played it down… Talk of your pregnancy was free rein now, you felt comfortable around everyone, showing off Glob’s sonogram – or selfie, as Yuna liked to call it – proudly. You felt easier and lighter than you’d felt in a long, long time, so the thought of your colleagues meeting Seokjin felt like a natural progression. He was the father of your baby after all.

To your delight, he said he could make it on the phone that night, and a taxi dropped him off at your place the following evening, waiting for you both as you slipped on your shoes. Seokjin had decided not to drive so he could have a drink or two to settle his nerves. You felt for him, but you knew he had nothing to be nervous about. Just like he had known you had nothing to be nervous about when you’d met Hoseok and Jungkook.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled as you braced yourself against the door frame and flicked a slingback on. You didn’t want to keep the driver waiting too long because you knew the fare meter was still running, but you’d taken way too long to get ready tonight. You’d recently began spending an indeterminable amount of time studying your belly in the mirror. There was something there, if you looked hard enough, but mostly it just looked as though you were bloated after eating too much bread. In the nights it expanded slightly, but not by a lot. Dr. Choi had already told you that for first time moms, it often took longer for the bump to appear, but you almost found yourself eager for it to happen now, despite wanting to hold off telling your family…

Bump or not, everything else had started to expand anyway. You could no longer get any of your jeans past mid-thigh, your hips widening, and your boobs, well, they were well on their way to growing an extra cup size. You were spilling out over all of your bras. You’d finally settled on a floaty midi dress ten minutes ago. One that hid your quadruple tits and slipped past your hips effortlessly. Seokjin’s comment made your face warm, which only got worse when you were sat together in the back of the taxi.

“Okay, stop looking at me now, you’re making me self-conscious,” you whispered, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, I just can’t help it. That angel glow is amplified tonight,” he chuckled. He leaned over the gap between you and kissed your cheek. “You have nothing to be self-conscious about.”

You squeezed your body tight, evil images of straddling him snaking their way into the forefront of your mind. You were the shameless one! You turned to him then, taking in his appearance, which was probably a bad idea considering everything. He was dressed in all black, making him appear longer and leaner – if that was possible – and he looked broader than ever.

“You look good too,” you offered. That was an understatement. He looked irresistible.

“Really?” He looked down at himself, shaking his head, and you noticed the tops of his ears had flushed red, an adorably common response to pretty much anything. “I just threw something on.”

You didn’t really know whether to believe that one or not…

You and Seokjin stepped into the upstairs room of the venue close together, your arm brushing against his. He leaned in, his voice in your ear so you could hear him above the music. “Which is the one who thought we used a turkey baster? I’d love to meet her.”

You snorted unattractively, batting at his chest, but before you could reply, you heard Namjoon calling you over from his spot stood at the bar. He was with Yoongi, and you felt a jolt of unease spread through you. You found yourself not caring how others perceived your relationship with Seokjin. There was no black and white answer right now, and nobody in this room knew about the kisses and words you’d shared. They were free to think what they liked, but for some reason it still felt as though you were flaunting a new relationship in front of Yoongi right now. You hadn’t particularly thought of it that way until now, but you couldn’t exactly ignore Namjoon’s large, dimpled smile and eager wave. So, you led the way, Seokjin following closely behind.

“Seokjin, this is my boss Namjoon,” you introduced with a smile, glancing over at Yoongi who was leaning both elbows on the bar, something clear and sparkling in his glass.

“Boss?” Namjoon huffed, crossing his arms. “That’s not very nice.” He looked at Seokjin then, holding out his hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Seokjin.”

“And you,” Seokjin grinned, the action as dashing as always.

You cleared your throat, motioning to Yoongi. “You remember Yoongi?”

Of course he did!

Seokjin nodded in his direction, his yes muffled by Yoongi’s casual what’s up?

There was a brief moment of silence before Seokjin asked: “Can I get you both another drink?”

Namjoon said yes the same time Yoongi said no, and the former laughed, easing the slight awkwardness of the situation.

“What about you?” he asked you as he stepped towards the bar, next to Namjoon. “Do they do a non-alcoholic version of those cocktails you love?”

You giggled quietly, mildly aware Namjoon and Yoongi were listening. “Seokjin, that would just be a Fizz.”

“I can be the gin substitute.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Which do you prefer?”

“Hmm, that’s hard.” you contemplated, feigning a struggle and laughing when he breathed out an offended scoff.

After you’d decided on a soda water and wedge of lime, Seokjin ordered beers for him and Namjoon. All three drinks didn’t take long to arrive, and as Namjoon took his, he stood straighter. “Hey, come on, let’s get ready. Tara will be here with Soobin any minute now.”

Tara was another graphic designer, and tonight it had been her job to lure Soobin here for his surprise. And surprised he was once he finally appeared in the doorway, nearly jumping out of his skin when everyone yelled ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOOBIN.’ You liked Soobin and were even more fond of him now that you knew his intuition was 100% trustable. You cornered him a little while later with his gift, which Seokjin had kindly taken charge of when you’d whined about 1. Not having enough time to get him a present, and 2. Not knowing what to get him at all. Seokjin figured every guy liked to game. You didn’t quite think the same, but out of ideas, you’d relented, and now you handed your co-worker an envelope with an AGS gift card inside.

Seeing his mouth form a small ‘o’ as he opened it up instantly made you believe you’d been correct. “Do you game?” you asked, about to cast a worried glance Seokjin’s way when you saw what it was that had made Soobin speechless. The gift card’s amount was eyewatering. Or eyewatering for a gift from a random co-worker of his and her friend-who-is-the-father-of-her-baby-and-who-she-kisses-sometimes anyway.

“Seokjin owns the company,” you explained in a rush.

“Really?” Soobin’s eyes rounded. “Oh, god.” You watched in confusion as he grew strangely flustered, his eyes flying to Seokjin, pupils flitting back and forth. “I love every game you’ve released, but especially BT21! I’ve loved that for years. I can’t wait for the update, it’s going to be amazing! I’ll be able to purchase so much with this! Thank you so much – truly!” He held up the gift card and let out a gleeful laugh, waving it about.

Well, would you look at that, Seokjin had himself a fanboy. BT21 was Seokjin’s oldest and most cherished creation, the game he’d coded as a teenager and gradually and painstakingly built and improved bit by bit. The game that had made his company take off, the game that had made him his fortune. He’d told you that two nights ago, so the knowledge was still fresh in your memory. A simulation role-playing video game that you knew for a fact, starred RJ the cute white alpaca.

Seokjin chuckled humbly. “Thanks. I’m blessed with a very talented team.”

It wasn’t long before you felt out of your depth as their conversation continued, so with a gentle squeeze to Seokjin’s elbow, you excused yourself, spotting Tara sat in a booth with Yeeun.

Seokjin turned out to be an impressive socialiser – or maybe it was just because everyone wanted a conversation with him. You watched as he mingled his way around the room, laughing and joking with everyone. It was amazing, although you imagined he had to be good at this stuff being who he was, even if he possibly didn’t enjoy it very much. Currently he was sat at the bar with Namjoon where they had been animatedly chatting for the last thirty minutes. You were slumped in a booth, exhausted from the five minutes of dancing you’d managed with Tara and Soobin. Every now and then Seokjin would glance over and smile at you, sending your insides all a flutter. You couldn’t even blame it on alcohol.

You were surprised when Yoongi appeared in front of you, his head tilted, mouth curved into a half smile. “No fun being the only sober one?”

You laughed, smoothing a hand over your stomach. “I guess I have to get used to it for a while. At least I won’t be suffering with a hangover tomorrow morning.”

“If it helps, I’m not drinking either,’ he chuckled, sliding into the seat next to you and placing his glass on the table. Another clear and sparkling drink. The same as yours you realised.

“How come?”

His hair had gotten longer recently and it really suited him, but then again, you were a fan of long hair so maybe you were biased. Despite that though, you felt nothing. No twist of your stomach, no racing of your pulse, no warming of your cheeks…

“Giving Mari a ride home. Her husband couldn’t make it.”

You smiled, that was sweet of him, but your attention got stolen when you noticed Seokjin laughing at something Namjoon said across the room. You couldn’t hear it, but you could imagine the sound easily.

“Should I be worried I’m about to lose my best friend?” Yoongi joked, his gaze following yours.

“I knew they would hit it off,” you grinned triumphantly, waving when Seokjin glanced over.

Sometime later you came back from the restroom to find Seokjin sat alone, finishing his beer. Yoongi had stayed talking with you for a while, things only slightly stunted before you relaxed, comfortable again in his presence. It felt nice to joke around with him, to talk about work, and books and other shared interests, and of course, to laugh at Namjoon. All the things you used to do until a few weeks ago. When he’d left to find Mari, wondering when she wanted to leave, you waved him off feeling very confident that things would be all right between you.

Now, seeing Seokjin all on his lonesome for the first time tonight, you rushed over and pulled up a barstool.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked, plonking yourself down.

He turned, a huge grin on his face. “I’m getting déjà vu.”

You tilted your head, eyes widening. “I thought this felt familiar.” You watched in bemusement as he erupted into squeaky laughter, banging his hands on top of the bar as though you were the funniest person in the world. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his pretty eyes unfocused, his smile wonky. He held up his bottle. “Everyone kept buying me drinks. Namjoon can really knock them back,” he added, sounding impressed.

With a laugh, you glanced around and spotted him chatting to Yeeun on the other side of the room. You turned back to Seokjin. “Should I go find us a taxi?” It was nearing midnight, and you didn’t want to be responsible for him not turning up to work tomorrow.

He leaned in close, conspiratorially, hot breath against your jaw. “Are you going to tuck me in?”

“Oh, my god!” you exclaimed, pushing his shoulder. He nearly faceplanted the bar top, his reaction time too slow. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I already said I remembered everything.”

You didn’t need the reminder of how forthright you had been that night, it was embarrassing. Although, it had worked… a little voice boasted inside your head. And obviously Seokjin remembered it for a reason…

“____!” At the call of your name, you turned around to find Yoongi making his way over, Mari shuffling after him, her round cheeks rosy with alcohol. “I’m taking Mari home now. Do you and Seokjin want a ride?”

“Oh.” You let his question sink in, having not been expecting it. “No, it’s okay, we’ll get a taxi.”

“You sure?”

“Come on, dear,” Mari coaxed. “You have your own free taxi service right here.”

You looked at Seokjin, who gave a small shrug and smiled, as if to say he didn’t mind what you decided. Although, who knew if he’d even been paying attention to the conversation. You turned back to Yoongi and Mari. A ride home did sound like a convenient idea. You wouldn’t have to wait around. You could be in bed within the hour.

“All right. Yeah, that would be great,” you smiled. “Thanks Yoongi.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Seokjin echoed, swigging the last of his beer.

Inside the car, Mari and Seokjin chatted away as if they had known one another for years. She was up front with Yoongi and you and Seokjin were squashed together in the back, Seokjin deciding to compact himself into the tiny centre seat next to you. You listened with a grin as he babbled on and on about the baby, practically gushing with this giant, goofy smile on his face. He sounded so happy telling Mari about the nickname Glob, laughing as he explained your best friend came up with it and it had just stuck. He caressed your stomach as he spoke, and you cupped your hand over his, following his motions, feeling warm all over. You were a unit, you realised. Connected because of the baby you’d created together, but maybe it was more than that now…

“You’re a very beautiful man,” Mari told him as she got out of the car, taking him by surprise and turning him a deep shade of red in the process as he laughed awkwardly. The rush of affection you felt hit you like a bulldozer, and you doubted you could blame it on the bubbles in your soda water.

“So, where do you live?” Yoongi asked Seokjin once Mari had let herself into her house.

Seokjin squinted into the darkness outside, trying to recognise where you were. “Oh,” he said, looking at you guiltily. “It’s…quite a way from here.” His words were slow and heavy, as though he was tired. (And drunk, obviously.)

He was right, you realised, noticing the location on Yoongi’s GPS.

“Yoongi, just take us to my place,” you said, without thinking twice “We’ll sort it out from there.” Seokjin could request a taxi from your house instead of you both making Yoongi drive around the city. God knows what time he’d get home.

“You sure?” he asked, making eye contact with you in the rear-view mirror. “I really don’t mind.”

“No, don’t put yourself out,” you insisted, before turning to Seokjin. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled, settling back into the seat, his right leg awkwardly spread to avoid being cramped. Once Yoongi started driving again, Seokjin leaned in close, the beer on his breath not particularly disagreeable to your surprise. “Does that mean I get to tuck you in?” he whispered archly. When you attempted to stifle your laugh and nudge him away, it only made his extra loud.

Soon enough, you were outside your place and waving Yoongi goodbye as you searched through your purse for the key.

“This is such a great door,” Seokjin said beside you, and you turned to see him stroking the panels. “What type of wood is it?”

You burst out laughing. “Seokjin, what the hell, you are so drunk!” He only shrugged in response. “How will you cope tomorrow?” you asked as you opened your ‘great’ door.

“I don’t get hangovers,” he replied as he followed you inside.

“Sit.” you ordered, motioning towards the sofa as you kicked off your shoes. “I’ll call a taxi.”

“No, don’t,” he whined, slumping down, an arm resting on one of your throw pillows. “I’ll call Jay Kay. He owes me about ten favours.”

You chuckled and sat down next to him. He made no move to call Jungkook, and seemed comfortable enough on your couch, in your living room, inside your home…

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yes,” he smiled, his gaze, still unfocused, moving to you. “All your colleagues are really nice.”

“They liked you.”

He shook his head, in denial, and then proceeded to grimace, almost as if he was embarrassed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, come on.”

He sighed and flung his head back, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m just…awful.”

“Awful?” you asked hesitantly.

“I’m an awful, jealous man.”

“What do you mean?” Now you were just confused.

He looked up, meeting your eyes, his face sombre. “I watched you laughing and joking with Yoongi.”

Oh. Okay. You hadn’t been expecting that.

He blinked. “Are you mad?”

You found yourself smiling. “Why would I be mad?” You hesitated, but ultimately decided to continue. “You’re not the only one who gets jealous. Dr. Choi was still giving you eyes.”

This…thing with you and him would only be confusing if you both let it. If you both got in your heads too much. Which was pretty rich coming from you considering you were the queen of overthinking, but you were trying not to, and becoming very successful at it too. (But maybe that was because all your thoughts now revolved around straddling Seokjin.) Jealousy was a normal human emotion – in moderation. So what if you didn’t like it every time Dr. Choi smiled at him? You didn’t have to dissect those feelings and try to pinpoint the exact reason why it annoyed you. And it worked both ways. Seokjin didn’t need to think he was an awful person for watching you laugh with Yoongi and not liking it…

“You know I’m not interested in Yoongi, right?” you asked quietly, just to make sure.

“I know,” he replied to your relief. “But it’s not just him.” You waited, perplexed. “Jungkook.” Your shock must’ve been obvious on your face because he groaned. “See, I’m terrible!”

You snorted. “Pfft. Come on! Give me some credit.”

Jungkook? Really? You’d probably end up throttling him.

Seokjin looked stunned. “He’s not your type?”

You shook your head. He was offending you.

“What is your type?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really think about it that much,” you admitted, taken by surprise. However, by now Seokjin was sitting up straight, full attention on you, as focused as a drunk person could get. It was down to that fact you relented. “I like someone who is hardworking,” you started tentatively, feeling a little embarrassed. “And intelligent – emotionally too.”

Seokjin’s eyebrows raised, and it made you laugh, relaxing you.

“I like someone who can make me laugh – I already said that… Someone’s who supportive, mature, practical.” The words were flowing from you now, without having to think too much.

“Jungkook made you laugh,” he pointed out.

You rolled your eyes. “Can Jungkook steam his own clothes and wash dishes?” You imagined he got someone to do that for him. “Because I find that really hot.”

“He loves doing laundry.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on here,” you chuckled quietly. “Are you trying to set me up with one of your best friends, or…?”

“What else do you like?” he asked, either blatantly ignoring your question or not paying attention.

You smiled, leaning in closer. “Someone that I can rely on… Someone who’s very handsome.” You waited for him to say something, knowing you were being completely obvious now, but not finding it in you to care.

Finally, after a few seconds, he snorted, eyes fluttering closed. “I think your standards are very high.”

You dissolved into laughter, resting the side of your face against the back of the sofa and watching him. “They are,” you agreed, not daring to share your final thoughts – your final hopes.

Someone you could trust with your heart, someone who could understand you, someone who could be patient with you…

“I’ll get you some water and then you can call Jungkook,” you said instead, rising from the sofa.

Seokjin hummed in response, slumped again. As you walked into the kitchen and poured him a glass, you wondered what his ideal type was, deciding to ask him while he waited for his ride. When you got back to the living room, he hadn’t moved a muscle. “Seokjin?” You placed the water down on the coffee table. When he didn’t reply, you tried again. “Jin?”

Glancing over, you realised he was sound asleep! Or passed out, was probably a better way of describing it, because as you called him again, even starting to shake him gently, he didn’t budge. There seemed like nothing you could do, other than wrestle Seokjin’s phone out of his pocket to call Jungkook yourself. But that would mean him driving all the way here to drag an unconscious Seokjin into the back of his car. It seemed like a waste of time. You laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, before fluffing up your cushions so he had somewhere comfortable to rest his head, decision made. Sleeping on your couch it was.

You realised exactly just how dead to the world he was when you attempted to lie him on his back. It was an insane struggle just to move him an inch, yet your huffing and puffing did not wake him at all, his soft snores in your ear as you attempted to (stupidly) hoist him up by the armpits.

“Come on, Glob, help me out here,” you panted, before giving up trying to be careful and pushing him down. You lifted his legs up, his ankles resting on the arm of the sofa, and tugged off his boots, lining them up together underneath the coffee table. You looked down at him, knowing that come tomorrow morning his body was going to be in agony, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. Taking the blanket folded on your chair, you draped it over him, then paused, feeling a little evil. Before you knew it, your phone was in your hand and you were snapping a picture of his cute pouty sleeping face.

A memento.

ending note; anyway, not to make anyone emo or anything, but I was just imagining Yoongi looking in the rear-view mirror as he drove them all home and seeing Oc’s happy, smiley face as she gazed at Seokjin and feeling all bittersweet because of course he’s over the moon for her but at the same time it still hurts a little 💔

Written 2022. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2022

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #fic:9mtfil #floralseokjin:writings

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darkonekrisrewrite · 11 months

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The Lov’s bonds with each other are all they have + Dabi Recovery Theories

(Second Side Meta) (Spoiler warning, short meta + theories)

It doesn’t really matter if the Lov inner relationships are unhealthy or if they encourage their worse traits because they don’t have anyone else but each other, even at this current point in the manga.

Excluding Dabi, maybe.

Shigaraki’s family is dead, Toga’s parents were horrible and Spinner’s family was presumably close to the same as he never mentioned them or at least they’re not present in his life.

And while we don’t know much about Compress’s family other than his Grandfather being a “peerless Thief”, the fact that he wound up in the Lov implies that he doesn’t have much, if anything, going for him either.

The individual members of the Lov have nothing to go back to and no one from their pasts that they could depend on in any circumstances.

So the small and pitfall ridden bonds that they share with one another are their only human connection and what connects them to their own humanity.

(I don’t really have any concrete proof that this ^ scene isn’t a manipulation on Dabi’s part but the art framing and overall plot relevance of the scene heavily implies that it isn’t a manipulation but genuine in its sentiment.)

Showing tears for others (Toga), their loyalty to others (Spinner and compress), and that despite everything they’re still themselves (Dabi and hopefully in future coming chapters Shigaraki too).

(Forgot to put this scene in earlier Meta, Spinner loyalty ^ here)

Whether these sentiments and actions have a good result is nearly irrelevant, as the actions and feelings themselves drive the Lov on the only path to survival that is currently available to them while at the same time showing that they do still have many forms of Love inside them.

And the path that they’re currently on is still definitely the only path that could have a chance of them surviving, because the Hero Kids are not where they need to be in the saving department yet.

(This ^ does not inspire confidence.)

Unless it’s made clear that when the hero kids say they intend to stop/save their respective villains, they mean not only from death but also from being locked up to rot in prison forever, and they’re willing to actually fight in anyway that’s needed to make sure that doesn’t happen, the hero kid’s intentions don’t mean anything.

Because obviously throwing the Lov in prison isn’t saving them, there’s no way the hero kids can save the villain’s hearts from outside of a metal box (a key theme of saving in Bnha is saving the Heart).

That’s not even saving the Lov’s lives either really, because that’s just another form of killing them slowly and depending on perspective, with even more cruelty.

Dabi is both different and similar, as he does still have his family that does care about him but his future with them is still very uncertain.

They all came together to save Touya and each other which is good but Natsuo then saying that things will be “Hell” from now on, whatever that means, leaves Dabi’s fate on pretty much one of only two paths.

With Hero Society or with the Todoroki Family.

It can’t be both, because after everything that’s happened and the parts Dabi played in trying to take down the current system, Hero society won’t let him be saved in any way that could really count as saving.

Dabi Recovery Theories

Personally, what I think should happen, if the Todoroki’s are really intending to follow through on saving Touya and making sure that he can make a full(ish) recovery, is fake his death.

Someone as connected/wealthy as Endeavor must have access to private medical facilities, someplace they could stash Touya to keep him alive.

And with some heroes loyal to Endeavor or Shoto, or if they’re capable of exiting the area themselves with the help of the rest of the Todoroki family, take Touya and escape, hiding him there while saying that the villain Dabi fully incinerated himself in the near explosion.

Dabi is dead to the world but Touya can live and heal.

It’s pretty clear from the framing that Touya will live but for how exactly he would survive with his current injuries and fully recover, I have three theories.

The first theory being that with the right medical attention, Dabi could simply survive more or less as is.

A simple thought but plausible, because excluding one of his arms and some outer muscle lost, Dabi’s injuries aren’t so much worse than what he already went through and survived as a child.

As long as his insides aren’t burned up (which they aren’t thanks to the appearance of his dormant Ice Quirk), he should be able to survive with medical attention.

And for making a full recovery (maybe not exactly a ‘Full recovery’ in this case as while they could feasibly replace his lost skin, the burned muscle might be different story) prosthetic limbs are pretty common in Bnha’s world, with even Compress being able to get his hands on a metal arm while on the run with the Lov.

The second theory is using Eri’s rewind Quirk, using medical equipment to ensure Dabi survives long enough for Eri’s horn (her power) to regrow and rewind Dabi to a state before he was so severely burned.

This is another simple solution (personally not a fan of this one) but entirely possible, although the heroes continually using Eri to solve their injuries/problems is a bit sketch (even the heroes admit that), so there is one very interesting theory left I can think of.

The Third theory: The heroes (specifically Endeavor) could try to use the imprisoned Doctor Garaki and the high-end Nomu to save and heal Dabi.

By transferring the high-end Nomu’s regeneration quirk (something all the high-ends have, implying that the power can be replicated and transferred) to Dabi, using the doctor’s knowledge and previous experience of “grafting quirks” onto other beings (the Doctor said he could accomplish this action even without the AFO Quirk).

As for how this scenario would be possible, Endeavor would finally have to step up as a Father instead of as a hero, in fact risking his life/status as a hero.

Either by forcefully taking the Doctor and the Nomu from Prison himself or by leveraging his status as the Number one hero (what’s left of it) to force this plan to happen for Dabi’s sake.

And I personally think that this would be a great ending to Endeavor’s story as a hero, if he truly does regret everything he did.

Endeavor risking or sacrificing everything he personally has left (his hero existence) in the present to help the Son he chose not to show up for in the past, finally putting Touya first to fully save him from the flames.

That seems like good narrative storytelling to me.

#bnha meta #mha meta #league of villains #lov #Dabi #touya todoroki #endeavor #theories #bnha #mha #hero society #toga himiko #spinner

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the-one-where-casey-watches-tv · 1 year

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The West Wing episode 4.20 "Evidence of Things Not Seen"

Have you ever noticed how the biggest names behind the camera tend to have close relationships with a handful of actors who are in everything they make? Aaron Sorkin is no exception, and honestly, I feel like I understand why. His work is so specific, just like Tarantino’s or Scorsese’s, and when you have such an identifiable style, I think it either clicks with you or it doesn’t. When you find people who click with you, whose brains meld seamlessly with yours, it really is a euphoric feeling and I imagine you’d want to keep those people close.

The West Wing, and Aaron Sorkin, click with me. Sometimes I watch a show and the thrill is having no idea what’s about to happen; I’m along for the ride in a vehicle that I barely recognize, let alone know how to drive. I would never be so bold as to think I could have taken the wheel of The West Wing, but to keep the comparison going, putting an episode on feels like getting into your mom’s car. You know all its little nuances, where the cupholders are, and how it’s going to feel on the road (and when to grab the handlebar).

“Evidence of Things Not Seen” has everything I love about The West Wing; it’s a fun one, but an inspiring one too, and it even guest stars- get this- Matthew Perry, fresh off of Friends. All the characters are mostly off the clock in this episode, so it’s time for a good poker game. Leo and the President are excited to kick back over a game of cards; Leo even has a full spread prepared, and tbh nothing makes me laugh like his reverent demand of CJ to “oooh squeeze this piece of rye bread”.

But the relaxation will of course be interrupted. The President will have to step in and out to negotiate with Kaliningrad- their government spotted an unmanned spy plane that we were flying over there, and Bartlet needs to talk them into giving it back. Our cover story: it was an environmental mission studying coastal erosion (Chinese spy balloon anyone?). Josh will have to do some back and forth too, interviewing a candidate to replace Ainsley Hayes as associate counsel.

Amid all of this, it’s the equinox, and CJ is convinced that at “the exact moment of the equinox” you can stand an egg on its end, and it won’t tip over. She’s carrying an egg around, but she hasn’t pulled it off yet and skepticism abounds.

All of Sorkin’s characters speak with what’s become his trademark cadence and tone so at times I see them as somewhat interchangeable- he just likes the sound of a group. But “Evidence of Things Not Seen” highlights the individual personalities and ideological differences that actually are present and consistent once you get past the similar speech pattern.

We’re launched into the title sequence with Bartlet giving the egg thing- and this coastal erosion cover story- a shot, but the egg topples over. His subsequently loaded “yeah, this isn’t gonna work” is about a lot more than the equinox. Compared to CJ, he’s always been a pragmatic optimist, entertaining every romantic idea but not expecting all of them to pan out. CJ, meanwhile, will always stick her neck out to vouch for the idealistic solution, even when it’s not even in the realm of realistic. She’s also usually right. In a previous episode, when everyone else guessed that the president’s approval rating had remained the same at best, she wagered that they had gone up 5 points, a number so preposterous Leo wouldn’t even repeat it to the President. Turns out she was lowballing. She’s also the voice of the iconic line “it’s about going to the blackboard and raising your hand- if you think you get it wrong sometimes, why don’t you come down here and see how the big boys do it.”

Toby’s even more complex than either of them, which I’d go so far as to say is the reason he also has the most complex individual relationship with almost every other character. He and Bartlet are a story for another day, but Toby and CJ’s deep, often wordless friendship really run wild in this episode. Toby’s created the image of himself as the pessimistic curmudgeon, but it’s a defense mechanism for the red hot idealism he’s carrying around. He’s so often disappointed, and he’s tired of it, but he can’t help but see so much potential in the world, even if he won’t admit it.

Will’s being in the Air Force won’t come up again after this episode, but it comes up in this one to serve the theme of Toby and CJ’s dueling worldviews. He’s heading to Wyoming to address a situation in which two launch crew officers who were slow to react to a threat of an incoming missile from North Korea. Turns out it was a good thing they asked some questions before enacting protocol, because it wasn’t a missile- it was a meteor from space. But they’re still being court-martialed because if it had been a missile, they wouldn’t have reacted in time. Toby can’t help but burst out laughing at this story (“Why do we think at this point that North Korea is attacking the East Coast of the United States?” “There are transcripts that show that surprise was expressed at that”). Then he turns it on CJ: “We failed on both a mechanical and human level. So tell me again what you have faith in”.

“Us. Because with what little free time he has, Will is going to Wyoming to defend one of these guys, and I don’t think it is failing on a human level”. Instead of responding, Toby lays down his cards, expecting to win the hand. But, in another symbolic move that speaks to a lot more than poker, CJ lays out a full house, sweeping up the chips in her unexpected win.

While this weighty discussion hung in the air, Will, Toby, and CJ had another thing to attend to- a bet amongst men that the other couldn’t hurl a playing card into the podium from the fifth row in the press room. They head down there, with CJ tagging along hoping to see them both fail- no one’s taking her very seriously tonight, after all. Instead of settling that debate, they’re interrupted by three gunshots slamming into the press room window. Will’s military training kicks in and he drops to the floor and rattles off ballistics to the secret service agents that instantly burst in, but CJ freezes. It’s Toby who pulls her to the ground in the heat of the moment.

I don’t love this being the second time CJ’s been “saved” by a man in this show (Sam did the same thing at Roslyn), but this interaction with Toby feels a lot more organic than that did, and so does the way they address it. On the whole, everything about an active shooter and subsequent crash of the building is a tired plot at this point. I’d actually go as far as to say this entire episode is pretty unoriginal- a criticism I read when doing some research on this episode. But I think the familiarity of the situation is exactly the thing that gives this episode that fun, cozy, President-in-a-sweatshirt feel. We’ve done the defcon 1 “can you believe it?!” active shooter plot before, so now we’re able to have some fun with it (“fun” on The West Wing is a relative term).

The secret service herds Toby, CJ, Will, and Josh into the oval office to make sure there’s eyes on everyone. Charlie and Debbie are already accounted for, but they don’t have code word clearance, so they’re not allowed in the Oval, where the spy plane discussion is still ongoing. At least, according to the Secret Service. Bartlet good naturedly explains that “if Charlie heard there were bullets, he’s gonna overpower whoever’s trying to—” and he’s cut off by Charlie, sure enough, bursting into the room. The President grins, we grin, he pulls Charlie in close and promises he’s okay. Satisfied, Charlie marches right back out. Then Bartlet says “I’m surprised you guys managed to keep Fiderer in her chair, I’d have thought she’d be the first one to- oh no here we are!” as she too fights her way in the room, looking the President up and down and declaring that she will be back to take his blood pressure shortly.

In a beat amidst the commotion, CJ asks Toby if he knew that a day on the moon and a year on the moon were the same thing. He did. The moment hangs there. Then she says, “I thought my reflexes before, in the press room, were cat-like.” And then we cut away. I love how little we have to say in this episode, and it’s our familiarity with these people, these rooms, and this situation that really let us all just play here in “Evidence of Things Not Seen”.

And nowhere is this episode having more fun than it is with Josh and the unexpectedly incredible chemistry he has with Matthew Perry’s Joe Quincy. Throughout this entire episode he’s back and forth between advising the President and interviewing new associate counsel Joe Quincy. Joe is quiet, collected, funny, and overqualified, but something is off about him, and Josh can’t figure out what. In an aside to Donna, Josh muses that “it’s the strangest feeling. It’s like… a really good baseball player is standing in the other team’s locker room for the first time.” To which Donna says, “I don’t understand, are you writing poetry about this now?”

But his gut is onto something, and he’s trying to figure out what- amidst it all, though, he’s also starting to like him. Josh is amused that the vetting team made Joe fill out the psychological part of the questionnaire- something he can relate to, and I’ll come right back to that in a second. Josh asks a question I think we all probably wonder when filling out forms like this but have never thought to put into words:

“Question 1: a) I do not feel sad; b) I feel sad; c) I am sad all the time and I can’t snap out of it; d) I am so sad or unhappy that I want to kill myself. You chose a) I do not feel sad.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Ever?”

“No.”

“No, you don’t ever feel sad, or…?”

“No, there are times when I feel sad.”

“Yet you checked the first box, why is that?”

“It said, ‘I do not feel sad’ and I didn’t at the time I checked it.”

This exchange, and their whole dynamic, feels both funny and poignant, but the tables turn when the shooting happens in the very next scene. Donna is instantaneous in checking on Josh, worried about the shooting stirring up his PTSD and telling him, against his wishes, that she is going to be giving his therapist a heads up that he might be calling later.

When Josh explains the building crash to Joe, he says he didn’t hear the shots, but “I heard a brass quintet playing The First Noel, so I just assumed someone somewhere was locked and loaded.” Joe doesn’t hesitate to reply with “You know, not for nothing, but the people that I talk to don’t believe that story, and the people that you’d like don’t care.” He doesn’t say it unkindly, but like I said, funny and poignant.

But it’s not only the sentiment that throws Josh off, it’s the wording. Finally, Josh puts it together- Joe is a republican. Once his secret is out, Joe explains that he’s gotten himself in bad standing with the rest of the party by voicing an unpopular opinion, but he wants to work at the White House because, of course, he has a sense of duty. The whole thing is a soft, respectful, and incredibly loaded homage to both Ainsley Hayes and arguably the show’s best episode, “Noel”. And, just like Ainsley, Joe finds himself fitting right in, even as Josh tries to fight it. He recommends him to Leo and gets him the job.

I really love this episode for all the same reasons I think it often flies under the radar of West Wing greatest hits. It’s not remarkable, it’s not doing anything we haven’t done before, but it has its finger right on the pulse of every one of these characters. It’s exactly our deep familiarity with everyone and everything that lets the slightest touch hold so much significance, depth, and humor. It just takes half a sentence for a character to say something profound about another, or to call back to nostalgic characters and plot points. And I almost forgot to mention- we end with CJ standing an egg on its end. I well up every time.

#the west wing #evidence of things not seen #matthew perry #joe quincy #bradley whitford #josh lyman #allison janney #cj cregg #richard schiff #toby ziegler #martin sheen #jed bartlet #tww #josh malina #will bailey #tv criticism #tv review

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luffyvace · 2 months

Note

can i request romantic hairo kineshi hcs?

yes you mayyy~ lovely anonymous~

I’ve never seen anyone request him before! What a fascinating request 😋

gn since no gender or pronouns mentions ;}

Hairo’s personality is very intense and hype yet kind and helpful 💪

his good nature can help cheer you up if your a negative person

your feel upset about a wardrobe malfunction/bad hair day?

“NO, (name), you look great! Every day you get up you look great! Is the rivers gonna stop flowing because your outfit isn’t perfect??! No! Is the sun gonna stop shining because your hair is out of place?? No! You. Look. Great!”

absolute awesome motivator.

I cannot express that enough

Always there when you need him

He manages to cheer you up every time too!

Let’s address the pants situation..😭

that dude doesn’t even get embarrassed when his behind his out 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️😭

you probably do for him…

thank goodness no one makes fun of him for it-

except for like- nendo- who keeps pointing it out every time it happens..😀

but anyway (SEE WHAT I DID THERE??)

Alr fine I’ll stop..

his reputation (or yours) doesn’t go down because of it and your truly grateful

You know.. your pretty lucky now that I think about it

People love your boyfriend so much that even if he gets pantsed they won’t trash him for it

💓💓

that’s how you know he’s a real sweetie

This dude is raring to participate in any form of sports

and you dote on that so much!!

you support him in anyway you can

“GO HAIRO!!”

”YOU GOT THIS HAI-KUN!!”

you almost hype him up as much as he does you when your supporting him!

if you want he’ll offer for you to join when he’s training for his tennis matches

He do be getting pretty hard core but you know he means well by it 😅

its also a bonus that he’s disinterested in kokomi

because now you don’t have to worry about disloyalty

of course he, himself isn’t disloyal

just in genera, versus, if you were to date another guy who could possibly still be charmed by her which could lead to problems in the relationship..

again! You don’t have those worries 😊

it actually makes you feel really special to know he chooses you over teruhashi—who everyone thinks is perfect

to him, your perfect for him 🥺

lol he would totally say something cheesy like that and genuinely mean it 💖

gotta love a guy like that amirite? (Am I right?)

speaking of which it’s canon he doesn’t think about love

until you of course 🤗😵‍💫

he’s more so cheesy romantic with his words

so your dates are either more casual or fun and heart racing

which to be frank, it’s usually both

like working out for example :)

if you like to-

if not then a jog in the park is manageable

Your man is also certainly open to trying your hobbies as well!

but one that you could probably both agree on would be a theme park/carnival

if you don’t like the big, scary rides? the fast tea cups (that are safe on the ground) are just as thrilling to him! 💗

Random :) but you make sure to bring him back down to earth when he goes over the top

like when he gets too excited or into things

For example, that time he literally went and chopped down trees by his OWN HAND instead of buying already chopped wood 😀😅💖

you break it to him gently of course..

his strength is probably attractive if not admirable to you

especially his muscles 😍

no matter your weight or height he can pick you up guaranteed ♡

he often takes you to the gym or park when he works out—if your up for it

if you join him all the better!

although he probably has a gym in his house somewhere- at least weights

i can’t see otherwise

his dad might work out too

Him and famous tennis players likely inspired him when he was young

his strength comes in handy too!

now you have a no-struggle jar/can opener!! 😚

If you don’t he will definitely encourage you to work out

Or if you already do (i feel like if he did have a type they’d be a sporty person like him) you two will be the sweat duet or smth bc 😂😂

honestly? he’s too hot for cuddles in the summer but is great for them in the winter!

until he’s not.. 😀

it gets so bad it be feeling like SUMMER in your room while cuddling since he’s emitting heat 😗🤦‍♀️

his rivalry with nendo low key concerns you bc you know he’ll overexert himself 😭💞

he canonly knocks out at 8pm on the dot

(LOL)

so if you ever have sleepover don’t expect to pull all nighters

and you better scarf down dinner (i feel his mom would make dinner at around 6:30 ish)

so you can have a hour and a half to play some video games or smth

Something tells me he’d also be into reading manga

probably sports manga-

pretty obvious why-

if not then some sort of action

gets the blood pumpin ya know??

so at least that’s something you could do together if you yourself aren’t into sports

if I had to pick a fav sports anime for him it’d be free or aihru no sora (this except I’ve never watched either :3 <3)

his black belt in Judo is a very cool feat. to you

if you wanna learn (especially if your not strong so you can defend yourself) he leaps to teach you

he’s a great teacher and has patience but he does get really fired up about it ❤️‍🔥

And even if you don’t wanna learn it anymore or it’s taking awhile- don’t worry this guy will always protect you <3

coming to his tennis games is another way you support him

your right there next to his friends and family as well as your own

Practically the whole school shows up for this guy

everyone loves him 💓💓

he reminds you to do your homework and will help you with it or motivate you to finish it if you need it

his. parents. love. you.

whenever you come over for dinner or a sleepover his mom always goes “ohh, one more hug” like- A THOUSAND TIMES before you can actually leave 😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

she loves you like your her own

She trusts you not to break Hairo’s heart either

and those two have a real close bond so that says something <3

She kisses you atop the head sometimes (specifically when your leaving or when you say goodnight before bed during sleepovers)

the dad is always like “your a good kid yknow?” “Take care of yourself”

LOL TYPICAL DAD TALK

for the record he loves your parents too <3

and they love him as well 🤗

and with that..!

y’all future together is practically already sealed 💞

10/10 boyfriend no flaws 100% green flag- go go go!

Hairo seems like such a sweet boyfriend!

it’s sad that he’s underrated but at the same time at least only the good ones can have him

☝️😙

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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 6 months

Note

For the sake of being in the Halloween spirit, and also inspiration from your name-

Vampire!Bam x gn reader where Bam and reader are already together, and reader thinks it’s funny to make Bam dress up as Dracula for a Halloween party. 🤭 I could literally come up with more Bampire scenarios lmaoo I just feel like younger skater boy vamp Bam would be so cute 😭

Bite Me!

Bam agrees to go along with Y/N’s costume idea- on one particular condition.

Bam Margera X Gn!Reader

(Fluff)

2.7k Words

Warnings: Suggestive content, alcohol, drug mention, biting, hickies,

An: Aaa happy early Halloween!! I’m not sure if you can tell from how I write this but I don’t go to too many Halloween parties XD I really liked writing for Bam early on in his Jackass career in this one, but yet again I like writing for Bam in general. I’ve never been super into the whole vampire romance type thing but I think writing this changed my mind! ;)

“Come on, Bam! One couple’s costume isn’t gonna kill you.” Rolling your eyes at the sound of your boyfriend groaning, you smeared on white face paint in the bathroom mirror, the sink below you crowded with containers of various products. “Its fuckin’ stupid! I mean,” He reluctantly peeled himself off of his spot on your bed, walking to the bathroom to squint over your shoulder at your reflection, “A ‘Bampire’? Really?”

You turned to him, your faces so close you swore you got makeup on him, “Yes. It was either that or Lamb Margera, and I didn’t feel like being Little Bo Peep. So there.” Not to mention, you thought he’d look adorable in the whole cape and puffy shirt getup. Planting a peck on his cheek, you went back to your makeup before you felt his hands snake around your waist as Bam leaned in towards you, mumbling against your neck, “Fine…but on one condition.” God, it was so easy to get to him. You nearly giggled as he continued, his teeth grazing your skin, “I get’t bite you tonight.” Oh, there was no way you could say no to that. “Alright…” You feigned annoyance, “Just not too hard?”

A Halloween party the two of you went to would be a good way for you to meet some of your boyfriend's new friends, you thought, gazing out the window as you drove along dim streets. As of one month prior he was a tv star, which you still hadn’t gotten over yet, but all you knew about what he did was the new and progressively grosser injuries he came home with. When you imagined his co-stars, you pictured a room full of cool extreme dudes that wear lots of baggy jeans and listen to edgy music.

So when you opened the door, you were kinda surprised. “Hey, sexy!” A man who could have been the real life Tarzan clad in the tightest patent leather playboy bunny costume, complete with satin bunny ears and black high heels, grinned at your boyfriend, leaning against the doorframe. Woah. You couldn’t deny, this guy pulled it off. Turning to lead you in, he shook his genuinely impressive ass a little, showing off the fluffy white tail he had on, “Bam has been telling us all about you!” Your boyfriend played it off like it was nothing but you nodded, trying not to make it obvious what you were staring at as you filtered through the crowd towards the kitchen. He chuckled this charming stoner laugh, leaning against a countertop cluttered with half empty liquor bottles, “I'm Chris, by the way.” You smiled when he shivered a little as his skin felt cold marble, giggling.

Talking over the loud music, you chatted with him and Bam for a while about the show and how well everything was going with the show- they might even be getting renewed another season in a few months! Oh, you were so excited to hear you leaned over and planted one on your boyfriend’s cheek. He rolled his eyes childishly, keeping up his tough guy exterior as you giggled. Suddenly, with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye- a rainbow blur followed by a fireball from the far side of the marble counter that lit up the dim, crowded room in a hot orange glow before, just as quickly, flickering out. You could hear Bam, and everyone else at the party, cheering for the guy in the multicolored clown costume as he landed with exaggerated bravado. One the applause died down, he made his way over to you and Bam, grabbing a couple beers from the fridge. Your boyfriend grinned, taking one from him, “That wath, like- theriously gnarly dude.” As much as he tried to downplay the lisp, you really found it kind of cute, but he’d kill you if you said that in front of his buddies. Bam threw his arm around you, “Thith ith Y/N. ” His huge pupils almost looked like a part of his clown makeup as he fist bumped you, speaking with a voice that sounded like he gargled tacks, “Hey, dude! Wanna beer?” Before you could answer, one was already in your hands, but it’s not like you would deny a beer from a clown. Bam chuckled as the clown left as soon as he arrived, “And that wath Theve…”

The party buzzed hotly around you, just so many people doing so many substances- a hotbed of sweaty activity. Not really listening to whatever you were saying to him at this point, Bam glanced over your shoulder, eyes widening as he gestured to someone just out of your line of sight to come over. A few moments later, you felt a broad shoulder brush against your arm and you turned. God, he looked straight out of one of those old westerns, especially with the way he tipped that black cowboy hat as he smirked, leaning down to you and drawling sweetly, “Howdy.” God, why does your boyfriend have so many hot friends? You chuckled as Bam took to introducing him, “Thith ith Johnny, n’heth probably the cooleth dude here bethideth mythelf.” Johnny chuckled, cracking a crooked smile, “Aww, you flatter me.” Thinking of something, he turned to look towards the living room, “Hey, me’n the fellas are settin’ up ‘Pin The Dick On The Jackass’ over there. Wanna join?”

That’s how you ended up holding a brass tack with a giant red construction paper penis dangling from your hand. You nervously stared at the bubble butt in front of you, not wanting to stick Chris and probably give him tetanus. “C’mon, c’mon- just do it!” He giggled, looking back at you with an unexpected level of giddiness. The people around you laughed and cheered as you squeezed your eyes shut, your hands shaky as you slowly moved them closer, until…

You felt Chris jump, his little bunny tail bobbing as he patted his chest, giggling, “Ooh!!” The room went wild at the sight of the paper dick swinging as he bounced on his toes as he chuckled, still managing to smile despite the tack in his ass, “Usually that feels pretty good, but that stung a little! Somebody get me a beer!” You couldn’t help yourself but to smile a little- these guys know how to have a good time.

“Really? A couple’s costume? Cute.” Ryan stood with his arms folded, leaning against one wall on the sidelines of the action. Bam rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah? N’whatre you thuppothed to be? Evel Kinevil?” Propping his helmet up on his hip, Ryan turned to him, grinning, “First off, I’m a motocross dude. Second of all,” He pointed to you in the center of the circle of people, “Y/N’s hand’s gettin’ pretty damn close to asses that aren’t yours. ‘You gonna do anything about that?” Ryan knew to play on Bam’s jealous streak concerning you, bored and wanting to see something happen.

Johnny gazed into the water of the big tin bucket, “Jesus…if you’re that bad with your mouth, I’d worry for Y/N…” Yanking his head up, water dripped down Bam’s forehead as he shot a glare at the cowboy, “Yeah, tho I’m gettin’ the damn apple!” It had been five minutes. Dunn chuckled, his teasing from earlier seeming to have done its job in making the party more interesting. You found it kind of cute to watch him frantically searching around for an apple, the fangs stuck to his teeth in no way helping him bite one. After what felt like forever, he whipped his head up, water spraying everywhere as he emerged victorious with the crisp apple wedged firmly in his teeth. “Alright dude!” Steve came up all smiles, patting him on the back with a gloved hand, leaning in, “By the way, I totally pissed in that water.”

“Are- are you theriouth?” Bam received a nod. Laughing, Steve got punched in the arm by your reasonably pissed off boyfriend (no pun intended), leading you to imagine this sort of thing was pretty routine for them. Gross. You could only wonder what other bodily fluids have been on him. As he stormed off to the bathroom, you felt a familiar hand grasp yours, leading you away from the hot crowd. Oh. Oh? Ducking down a dark hallway, you trailed behind Bam, not even thinking about how wet his hand was as the liquid dripped down your fingers.

Closing the door behind you, it was like you had just stepped into your own little world away from the chaos of the party. Music thumped through the walls softly, making your whole body vibrate as you leaned against the wall. You watched your boyfriend rinse his hair off in the sink under half burnt out vanity lights. Bam ran a hand through his soaked, dark curls, now half plastered to his forehead as he looked at you from the porcelain with those piercing blue eyes.

“Tho…” He stood up and took a step closer to you, his hands finding their place on your waist. Your noses nearly touched as he leaned in close to you, his breath warm on your skin as he raised an eyebrow, whispering against your ear with a fanged grin, “How ‘bout that bite now?” Heat rose from your toes all the way up to your cheeks as you blushed, flustered. He turned his head to the side, spitting the fangs out in the sink before dipping his head and closing in on your neck. You held your breath, but he seemed to hesitate for a second, watching your tense reaction with a smirk. He was playing with his food. Finally, after what felt like forever, you felt his teeth sink into your flesh.

You let out a whimper, not even noticing when the unlocked door to your side creaked open. Hell, you didn’t even pick up on it once the snickers started pouring in, too consumed by the purple, throbbing hickey Bam was presently biting into your neck. It took Chris leaning in, asking, “Hey, can I get one next?” To shake you out or your trance, whipping your head around at the crowd as they childishly giggled and gaged in mock disgust. Your face somehow turned redder than before, but Bam didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest, chuckling, “How much’a that did you guys catch?” Johnny grinned, leaning against the door jamb, “Just enough.”

#jackass #bam margera #johnny knoxville #ryan dunn #chris pontius #steve o #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #jackass x reader #bam margera x reader

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bridgetotheskyyy · 2 years

Text

Playing Parts

Summary: Tobi/Obito finally tries therapy Rating: Smut, 18+, noncon elements, stalking, psychological drama, implied mind control Word count: 9236 A/N: I hope you all enjoy this. It was a long time coming really. I've been wrestling with this fic for a minute - I was joking with a friend and just realized why not ACTUALLY send obito to therapy and see what wackiness unfolds? And so this fic was born. Disclaimer: I'm not a therapist nor do I have any authority on the matter! Please take everything in this fic with a grain of salt.

Wherever you were, he was also. He followed you, from one village to the next, after the dissolution of your family left you cast adrift, lost in the maddening fray of people in a world that couldn’t give less of a damn.

He understood the feeling.

He was entranced with you, the feelings you inspired, the impression you gave him ― all exotic, yet so endearingly familiar.

You had a dual shadow, yet you would never know.

You had a stalker, yet you would never know.

Because …

Because you looked just like her.

---------------------

“Another?”

You groaned, head in your palm. You peered down; your empty glass winked with the club’s flashing lights. You glanced at the bartender. He was being courteous, you acknowledged; he knew you were going nowhere. He was giving you that look; a strange marriage between pity and exasperation. You knew the look well; you often wore it as you studied your patients.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Ye … yeah,” You relented, crouching over the bar.

It was not as though you didn’t deserve such a look, either; once again, your love for bad boys and broken things had driven you to the comforts of the bar and its liquor stocked in its drawers. Another disastrous relationship gone up in flames, choking you with its fumes. And again, you chose to clear your throat by drowning in alcohol.

You tapped a heel against your suitcase, in which everything you owned was stored. Deja vu dizzied you, for years ago you were in this exact same position, with all your possessions hugged to your chest. Tears threatened the dryness of your eyes as memories of a murderous father and screaming mother incursed your mind, made you hunger for another drink.

And the suitcase’s meaning echoed the last: apartment searching.

Yay! Homelessness!

The bar’s raucous wasn’t enough to steal you away from self-pity. The bartender plopped your drink before you. You grazed the new glass of sake to your lips, licked the remnants from your lips.

Honestly, it was probably time you took your own turn on a therapist’s couch, but there were demons you were not quite ready to do battle with, and so, your therapy resided in supplying therapy for everyone else.

For now, you resigned to sharing a bar with a pack of other miserable drunken souls, all of them varying levels of drunk. In your sorrowful peripheral, someone took the empty chair beside you, but you could hardly chalk up the will to care as you downed the rest of your drink.

You steadied yourself on the bar as you reached for your wallet. You fiddled through it, only to find yourself petting a dust bunny.

Empty.

Your eyes popped.

Oh no.

The bartender eyed your wallet, your discrepancy.

He threw his towel on the counter. “Look, missy, this isn’t a fucking free for all! If you can’t pay, you can turn your pretty self around and leave.”

Some of your drunken peers snickered at you. You felt someone lean over you, a lecherous “I’ll help you pay, for a price …” made your skin crawl.

“I’ll pay for her!”

A hand slammed the table, moving away to reveal money.

The cheerful voice was so incongruous with the grimy club ― but it demanded your attention. You turned to your left, where you were met with an orange mask spiraling into itself.

The bartender’s eyes swung from the stranger to you, sighed. “Fine,” he grunted.

He swiped the money away. The other drunks, robbed of a show, began to disperse with disappointment, leaving you alone with your helper.

You blinked at your savior. “Uh ―” you searched for the correct word, “thanks …?”

It wasn’t meant to come out like so … unsure, but the mask was throwing you. The club lights caught onto it, giving you only a slight indication of an eye where the hole was situated.

Maybe it’s some sort of BDSM thing; I shouldn't judge.

You relaxed. “Thank you,” you said with more certainty.

“You’re welcome, miss,” said the character beside you.

A silence stretched. He ― he? ― abandoned his chair, exposing you to the breadth of his height.

Holy fuck, you swallowed.

His head lowered, and you felt his attention on you. A pause.

“You’re awfully sad, miss,” said the character, his cheerful voice weighed with a bit of emotion. “Tobi doesn’t think you should be so sad.”

He offered one more lingering pass at you, before striding into the thick of dancing, stumbling people and disappearing from your sight.

Your head swam with wonder. What the hell was that all about?

The wad of cash had been more than enough for a few more drinks after the one threatening to put you in the doghouse. After your fourth, you stumbled from the club and out the creaking door. Your vision blurred, steering with deer legs. The streetlights blared tangerine instead of white, spiraling in your imagination.

You don’t know how you made it home. Come morning, your eyes opened to the ceiling of your office, your body safe under the warmth of a blanket.

“So,” your patient took another drag from her cigarette, “that’s the story of how we got married for the third time.”

“Three times in one week,” You deadpanned. “That must be a record for you.”

----------------------------------

“Oh ―” something came to your patient’s mind, “Oh, and then his mother shows up, and she’s all like, ‘I thought I was wearing the wedding dress?’ I had to remind her it wasn’t her fucking wedding. She’s absolutely nuts! And he didn’t even stop her from starting a fight at the reception!”

Don’t laugh, You tell yourself. If you laugh, you’re not a good therapist.

“I should just let her go ahead and marry her own goddamned son,” Your patient continued. “That means I won’t have to; get the fucker off my hands.”

“Have you ever considered,” You began carefully, “that maybe your mother-in-law feels out of place in her son’s life and wants to contribute but doesn’t quite know how?”

She blinked at you, leaned back into your couch. “Go on.”

“And maybe if you gave her more responsibilities, ironically, she’d probably behave a lot better as she’ll feel like she’s needed?”

“Oh,” Your patient threw her cigarette-laden hand in the air. “You’re a genius. This is why I come to you.”

You couldn’t resist a smile; it was the only compliment you had received in a long time.

Well, except that night …

“Do you really think that’ll work?”

��It’s worth a shot,” You optimized.

You finished up with your patient and saw her out the door, breathing a huge sigh once the door was shut. You were exhausted ― and it was only 2pm.

It had been a week since the club and still you couldn’t stop thinking about the man in his orange mask who’d offered to pay for your drink. All else was a complete blur. The only thing that had come to occupy your mind ― along with your time ― was making your office your new apartment also; the living room was now reserved for sessions, while the closed doors down the hallway led to your bedroom, the kitchen hanging at the side of the living room.

It was the best you could do for now, since leaving your ex-boyfriend’s house. Your shoulders sank at the memory.

You’re awfully sad, miss. You shouldn’t be so sad.

It wasn’t a compliment exactly, but the closest you had gotten to one ― in a long time. The idea of someone thinking you were undeserving of the agony weighing down your life and wringing your heart was … nice. You had been touched.

And a little embarrassed. Was it that obvious?

A knock at the door and you startled, hand flying to your chest.

“I’m not taking any more clients today!” You shouted. “You’ll have to schedule another time!”

“Oh, sorry! But … but can Tobi come in anyway?”

Your heart sank. That voice …

Your hand flirted with the doorknob. You hesitated, unsure if you heard correctly. It can’t be … can it?

You retreated from the door. You hand twisted the knob and creaked the door open.

You raised your head. Your eyes caught orange spirals.

He saluted you. “Hello!”

It’s him …!

“Yo ― you …”

Without thinking, you backed away, widening the door for him.

“Tobi is sorry it is so late,” he said, towering over you as he entered. “Tobi wants to be a good boy! But … it doesn’t always work out that way.”

“From the bar …” You said, still gripping with his arrival. “How did you find me?”

He ― Tobi ― perked. “Tobi saw your ad!”

“My …” you blinked. “Ad …”

Oh yeah, I forgot about those.

Where was your head? It had been long since you plastered your posters all over the village, advertising your services. Anxiety waned off your chest; and for a second you had truly thought he had followed you … How ridiculous.

“After Tobi and Miss met, Tobi wanted to see if you were okay,” Tobi said, then flailed his arms, “Tobi also wanted lessons!”

“I’m sorry,” You said, beginning to recover from it all. “I don’t do walk-ins. You’ll have to schedule.”

“Oh,” Tobi’s voice was pleading, coupling his hands. “But can Tobi just have a few minutes? Tobi promises to be a good boy next time!”

What’s with the third person?

You were confused ― just as much as you were intrigued. You could not pretend as though you were not interested.

You crossed your arms, considering as stars twinkled around Tobi’s kneeling form.

“All right,” You said. “10 minutes.”

“Yay!”

Tobi twirled, and while he made a show of himself, you examined him. Donned in a mask ― No animal or distinctive features. He doesn’t associate himself with anything one would recognize; he must want true anonymity ― and bound in fabric of black from head to toe. Said fabric strapped him in perfectly, emphasizing strong pectorals, hint of abs …

You shook your head. Stop ogling him!

While Tobi’s happy dance commenced, you decided to ask:

“You’re a ninja, aren’t you?”

He stopped mid-twirl, turning back to you. A beat passed.

“Aww,” Tobi scratched the back of his head, where his mask ended and indicated spiked black hair, “what gave me away?”

“Well,” You shrugged, a hint of a smile tickling your lips, “the, uh, mask is peculiar. And you have … quite an impressive build.”

You didn’t want it to come off like you were flirting, but it sounded flirty. Shit. At least pretend like you’re a professional.

“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” You added to soften the suggestivity of your comment.

“Tobi is a ninja!” Tobi affirmed. “Tobi goes on scary missions all the time ― it’s fun!”

“Fascinating …” You cupped your chin, observing him.

Something caught Tobi’s eye; your bookshelves. He traipsed, arms flailing, toward the books. You followed him with wonder.

“So many books,” he said. He was nearly as tall as the shelves themselves, tipping his head up a tad to admire them all. “You must be really smart!”

“You …” You stood beside him. “Now you flatter me. It’s nothing really.”

But your humility didn’t stop Tobi from gobsmacking at the enormity of your collection, the density of the tombs.

“You have to read a lot to become a therapist,” You said. Seeing an opening, you added, “Do you read, Tobi?”

“No,” Tobi lowered his head. “Tobi was never the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“Don’t say that,” You said. “Neither was I, at first. It took me years to like reading.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” You piped up. “The trick is,” you raised a finger, “is to find a topic you’re interested in and read about that!”

You approached your dual couches, patting one. “Come sit, Tobi.”

Tobi obeyed, sitting on the couch opposite you. He shifted his head as he took his seat, exposing a bit of his neck to you; he truly was covered from head to toe, as you couldn’t detect a single speck of skin anywhere.

Tobi spotted you looking, and somehow managed to blush on top of his mask. He put a hand to his mask.

“Miss is staring …”

Your eyes widened before you averted them.

“You flatter Tobi!”

You fidgeted, desperate for a way out of this subject. “You,” you cleared your throat, “... seem a lot happier than the shinobi who come to see me.”

Tobi’s interest piqued. “Whaa? Tobi is not the only ninja you see?”

“Oh, heavens, no!” You waved him off. “They come to see me all the time in secret. It’s a rough job, and it gets to them all eventually. I don’t blame them, really. Even my old boyfriend was …”

You paused. You covered your mouth. Too personal! What had gotten into you?

Tobi was quiet for a moment.

“Miss’s boyfriend … was a ninja?”

“Yes, mm …” You cleared your throat again. “Let’s change the subject. This is your session after all. We have five minutes left. What do you want to talk about, Tobi?”

Tobi watched you maneuver a glass of water toward him on the table separating the two of you.

“Tobi was …” he began, voice cracking, “betrayed.”

Sympathy grazed you. “Oh, I see. Was it a girlfriend?”

Silence. Tobi shook his head.

“No.”

You studied Tobi; his shoulders fell, head hanging. It was startling to see such a chipper soul become so depressed, so demure.

He’s really quite depressed. His almost cartoony demeanor is a mask to conceal deep inner pain, further emphasized by the actual mask he wears.

You treaded carefully.

“Was it … a friend then?”

Tobi’s attention snapped to you and you resisted a startle. You had hit a nerve. Your eyebrows raised, expectant.

“... Yeah,” he answered. “A friend.”

You wanted to reach for him, but your training told you physical touch might be overstimulating if he was in the middle of recalling a traumatic memory. You reached, instead, with your voice. “Tell me about this friend, Tobi. This is a safe place.”

Nonetheless, Tobi was the one to fidget now.

“Tobi is not … used to talking about his feelings,” Tobi brightened when an idea seemed to strike him. “I know! Maybe Miss could share a little to help Tobi open up!”

You blushed. “Oh, well, I don’t …” It’s a good idea, but it might throw me off my game. “You know what? Let’s do it! If it’ll help you!”

“Yay!”

“Hmm … Let’s see,” You pondered, finger to your lip. At times like this, you would simply fabricate your background in order to help clients open up. It was dishonest, but it served the same purpose as the truth and kept things professional.

But this was different; Tobi was a shinobi, and everything in your bones told you he could detect any lie you told. You would surely expose yourself under such conditions, under such pressure.

You sighed, covered it up with a weak smile. “I’ve recently gone through a pretty bad breakup, Tobi. I know what it feels like to be betrayed.”

“Really …?” everything you said seemed so amazing to Tobi.

Your blush deepened. He’s surprised I’ve gotten my heart broken? “Yes. A boyfriend, he … Well, he cheated.”

Tobi emitted a soft “aww.”

“Miss is sad again …” he said. “Tobi doesn’t like her sad.”

“Thank you,” You said. You lowered your gaze, unable to deny the sting of legitimate pain the memory caused. “Fact is, he said that he would … he would always take care of me.”

You couldn’t name it, but the mood changed. You felt Tobi’s presence in the room totally. He regarded you … lovingly? Your brows furrowed, desperate to understand the shift in him.

Silence.

“... Tobi understands,” the cheer in his voice was all but gone. “He made a promise to a friend, a long time ago … Tobi’s friend broke his promise … He betrayed Tobi …”

Your eyes glued to Tobi, intrigued. “How does that make you feel, Tobi?”

“... Confused.”

This is brilliant; usually men won’t admit to feeling out of control.

“You’re doing so well,” You encouraged. “Keep going …!”

You saw movement in your peripheral, and your eyes trailed to see Tobi’s fists clenching at his sides, knuckles whitening.

Your gaze flickered back to Tobi ― but he was already looking at you. You peered closer until you could see a hint of his eye. Your eyes met his one, and there was ―

“It makes Tobi feel … rage.”

Red.

His lone eye flashed scarlet ―

You gasped, reeling back into the couch. Fear gripped your heart.

And as it had come so had it gone; his eye was normal, his demeanor lightened.

“Tobi is sorry!”

“It’s okay,” You caught yourself. Perhaps strong emotions bring on shinobi abilities I don’t understand. And what emotion it was. To see someone so happy go from sorrow to anger so quickly. Who was this guy? “Sometimes, when we bury our feelings, they can come out stronger than we can handle.”

Tobi sighed. “That makes sense. Still, Tobi didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I was only startled,” You leaned forward. “You could never scare me, Tobi.”

You believed him; looking at Tobi, how flustered he’d become at his feelings … You understood he was a ninja, but you couldn’t picture him actually hurting anyone.

Tobi was silent. “Thank you.”

Your eyes trailed to your watch. 10 minutes.

“And that’s all the time we have today, Tobi,” You said, standing. “Make sure to come see me again next week. And make sure you schedule this time.”

“That’s it?” Tobi said, rising as well. “That felt like no time at all to Tobi! Miss is so much fun to talk to!”

You ducked your face to conceal another blush and opened the door for Tobi.

“Right back atcha.”

Tobi chuckled and nodded to you one more time before leaving. You shut the door, pressed your forehead to its wood.

Was it just you, or had his voice … changed along with his eye?

You were exhausted, and it didn’t take long for you to lull into a nap, where Tobi’s eye and his deep voice chased you into dreams.

----------------------------------------------

Shower water rained on his back, disguising hushed pants inside white noise.

He hadn’t meant for the mask to slip.

So to speak.

You spoke of your boyfriend, and in his mind all he had morphed into Kakashi, until it was all he could think of, the rage suffocating him.

Jealousy compounded jealousy. Anger surged through him, was softened by the stroke Obito gave to his cock. Your face bloomed, the memory of your blush twitched his cock. And your smile. You had such a nice smile.

Obito closed his eyes, hung his head against the shower wall. While he stroked himself, he imagined it being your hands on his manhood. Tobi, fuck, you’re huge … He grasped, quickened his pace. Scenes in his mind hazed into one another; your boyfriend’s blood decorating the walls as he pinned you to your couch, crashing his lips to yours, fucking himself into your small, frail frame.

Don’t worry, (Y/n), I’ll save you …

The hot water sensitized Obito’s skin; he leaned a hand up against the wall opposite him, jerking harder now. Imaginary you begged in his ear. He buried inside of you, filling your sinfully tight walls with his cum.

“Tobi …!”

He stained the shower wall with his seed, a low grunt emitting from his mouth as he came. He released his cock, turned his hand so his palm revealed the evidence of his climax.

If there was any guilt to be had, it was dull, nominal. He could think only of your flushed, fucked out. You, panting underneath him. He thumbed the head of his sensitizing cock, watched it bounce back in place at his abdomen. A perverse thought crossed him, streaking you in his mind.

I really am a freak, aren’t I …?

“Tobi!” came Deidara’s voice, clipped and upset. “What’s the hold up?”

Obito laughed at himself. Oh, if only you knew, Deidara. He dressed, donned the mask and the character of Tobi once again, both fitting like an arm in a sleeve. He didn’t want to keep Deidara waiting.

He had to see you again.

“And he has the nerve,” Your patient said, another temperamental woman you dared not cross in your futile attempts to help her, “the absolute nerve to insinuate the baby’s not his. Can you believe that?”

You nodded, following. “So you know the baby’s his?”

“How’re you gonna ask me a question like that?”

You sighed, knowing your place. You remained silent as your patient rambled on about her multiple boyfriends, surely one of them being the father of her unborn child.

Admittedly, your head was elsewhere.

You were compelled to tell yourself for the umpteenth time: You were not falling for Tobi.

You told yourself in the mirror, in your diary, before bed. You were not. Your interest was completely professional ― the only reason you thought about him, day and night, was because he fascinated you. That fascination, of course, had nothing to do with your love for broken things, for bad boys, for mystery. But it was also something that could not be assuaged by a quick visit with one of your old boyfriends ― even your most recent ex who had, coincidentally, had stopped calling you.

You wanted only to know what was under that mask for Tobi’s own sake.

Not because you wondered what he looked like, or what his lips looked like, or what it would be like to lean into them and …

“Hello?” Your patient snapped her fingers. “Am I talking to myself here?”

You jumped. “Uh, no, of course not.”

“Then, great super mega therapist,” Your patient crossed her arms, eager for you to disappoint her, “what do you suggest?”

You resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your eyebrows in frustration. You’ve got to be kidding me. No, no. patience … sometimes people just can’t see what’s right in front of them.

“This is a trust issue,” You replied. “Not a control issue.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Your boyfriend doesn’t know if you’ve fully chosen him, so he doesn’t want to fully choose you, either,” You clarified. “There’s no point in being with you from his perspective if the moment you get upset you run and go out with another guy.”

Your patient lowered her gaze, uncomfortable. “You think he loves me?”

“Yes, honey, I think he does.”

Three hard knocks at the door stirred you both ―

It flew open.

A man came to the couch, calling out your patient’s name.

“I’m sorry!” he said.

He approached the couch, kneeling as if to propose.

“Oh my god,” Your patient raised from the couch, stars in her eyes. “You came for me!”

“I want this baby, love,” he said, intertwining his knuckles with hers. “I don’t care who’s baby it is. I want us to start a family.”

“Oh …” Your patient cooed. “I love you so much …”

“I love you.”

They proceeded to make out … Right in front of you.

You cleared your throat for their attention. “Hey, uh, this isn’t couple’s therapy.”

Your patient broke their kiss to stare at you. “Oh. You don’t do that?”

“No, sorry.”

You ushered them out seconds later with a “Happy babymaking, you two!” before shutting the door and locking it.

Methinks we need stronger locks around here. A few padlocks. Maybe a cross bar.

You composed yourself ― as best you could. You glanced at the clock. 10 minutes to 2pm. Tobi was next.

You adjusted yourself, swiped your lips with some makeup ― not too look good for him, but to be professional. You compiled your notes, of which you had many; deductions, theories, possible inquiries, anything that had come to your mind about Tobi since his last session.

I have to get him to speak more about this friend. He brought it up first, so it must be what’s truly bothering him. Perhaps, this friend is the reason why he hides behind this character he’s created.

You sat down, a bundle of notes in your lap, and waited.

And waited.

You went from your first page of notes to the 100th before smacking it with your face, admitting defeat.

Tobi was late.

Maybe he’s canceled. Panic struck you. He can’t cancel! Not before I ― I mean, he gets to know himself better!

You looked at the clock again. 2:35.

You were ready to cry when there was a knock at the door. You skedaddled, unlocked the door and threw it open.

“Tobi is here!” he cheered, hands up.

“Tobi …” You breathed out, sliding out of the way for him to enter.

“Tobi is sorry for the tardiness,” he said. “There were some nasty chores that came up that needed doing!”

You only grinned at him before realizing how close the two of you were at the door’s threshold. He dwarfed you in height. It sent butterflies dancing around your heart. Oh, gods ... How much lighter you would be in his arms, if he were to ever pick you up and …

He stared. “Hm? Is Miss all right?”

You snapped out of it. “Yes, I’m sorry, Tobi, come sit.”

“That’s good,” Tobi said, “because Tobi has done lots of thinking since his last session with you.”

“Mhm?” You sat on your side while Tobi occupied the couch across from you.

“Tobi wants to ask something …” he began. “It’s been on his mind. When someone hurts your feelings ― really bad ― what are you meant to do?”

You considered him. This is about his old friend, no doubt about it.

“It never really leaves Tobi’s mind,” he went on. “Being hurt. What should Tobi do?”

You shifted the notes away from you, self conscious of them. “Well, Tobi,” you began. “It depends on the level of hurt.”

“Miss means how bad Tobi feels?”

“Exactly,” You answered. “No one gets to tell you how painful something is; if it hurts, it hurts. That’s all there is to it. But the trick is, no matter how painful the situation, we should always head toward forgiveness, toward moving on.”

“Forgiveness,” there was a slight edge to Tobi’s voice now. “Miss means … to forget?”

“I mean to move on,” You said softly. “Totally different things, though people think they’re the same.”

“Tobi … thinks he understands,” Tobi said. “Could Miss … explain more?”

Your therapist’s intuition told you this was a trick; you were being tested. Tobi was gauging you, despite his feigned innocence. Thankfully, he was not the first one to do so, nor would he be the last.

“Sure,” You said. “Nobody intends to forget anything really; it’s not conscious. But forgiveness is always conscious. We can always try to forgive. It doesn’t mean what the other person did to you was okay, it means you refuse to be defined by their actions, only your own!”

“Oh,” Tobi’s voice shuttered.

There were a few beats where no one spoke. You didn’t question it; sometimes, silence was the best thing for a patient, to allow them time for things to settle.

“... Tobi doesn’t think he can do that.”

“Everyone can,” You assured. “But it takes time.”

You could detect Tobi’s discomfort by his movements alone. Silences, coupled with more fidgeting. A head turn here, a head turn there.

“Tobi has something else to say.”

“Go on.”

“Tobi … Tobi did have a girlfriend once!”

You denied the jealousy stinging you with every inch of your being. “Oh?”

“Yes, and Tobi was thinking about …”

“Hm?” You concealed your curiosity, though you felt your body leaning to Tobi. “thinking about what?”

“About … how much you look like her, Miss.”

Your heart skipped. Me? Look like her? You felt it again, something of which you couldn’t be sure because you couldn’t see any of Tobi’s face, but the strange sense that his attention on you was rapt. You were naked in his presence; he could see right through you, not the other way around, despite your efforts.

“I would ―” Your mouth was unusually dry. “I would thank you, but I’m not sure if you and this girlfriend are on good terms, so …”

“We were,” Tobi’s voice was unusually quiet.

“Oh,” You blushed. “Then ― then thank you …!”

Tobi didn’t answer. More silence, but this bout of it felt more intimate for reasons beyond you.

You smiled, hung your head.

“Miss …”

“Hm?”

“Can … Can you do Tobi a favor?”

Anything.

His voice was even quieter now. The heat accumulating in your body startled you. “Y― yes?”

“Could Miss take her glasses off for Tobi?”

What? You had never had a patient ask something of you ― not like this. However, you did so, crossing the frames and putting them in your lap.

Tobi “wowed,” his head cocking. “You’re awfully pretty, Miss …”

You fiddled with the legs of your glasses. His compliment was so sincere ― he was so sincere ― and you felt so seen.

“... Could I see more?”

You didn’t catch the “I” instead of “Tobi,” only the insinuation of his requests. Tobi was engrossed by you, and you felt as though you could not speak. You felt drugged, almost, under his focus.

“More?” You repeated. “What ― what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Tobi’s voice was hardly above a whisper. “Could you … spread your legs for me?”

Under any other circumstances, under any other patient, you would end things immediately, banish him from the room or flee from it yourself. Call the authorities, even. But this was Tobi, and something in his voice ― his smooth, deep voice ― you found it impossible to object.

You fevered as you bent your fingers underneath the hem of your skirt and peeled it upwards, spreading your legs as you had been asked.

By now, your pink panties must have been in view, cupping your throbbing cunt.

“Such a pretty pair of panties …”

This, you thought, somewhere, in the part of your brain still sane and functional, was not professional.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Tobi held you under his heated gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his eye flash red once more, but …

“Touch yourself, Miss,” he ordered softly.

“What?”

His red eye met you through the mask.

“You know you want to.”

That’s … that’s not the point.

Your hand seemed to move on its own as it grazed past your thigh, teasing the sensitive inner skin, until the pad of your finger pressed into your clothed pussy.

Tobi breathed sharply. It spurred you on. You rubbed fingers against the cloth, you clit hidden from view. You parted your legs wider, gaze heavily lidded as you became entranced by your ministrations.

Your eyes fluttered as you snuck a hand into your panties. You teased yourself with ghostly touches.

“Yes,” Tobi breathed. “Show me, show me …”

You circled your clit, a new thrum of pleasure sweeping through you. Your other hand came to tug at your breast, the strip of your shirt falling past your shoulder. Your eyes closed at last, your ears treated to the concentrated sounds of Tobi’s clipped breath.

“(Y/n).”

A moan, from him. Your head fell into the cushions of the couch, spreading your legs farther apart.

“Oh, Tobi, fuck …”

“(Y/n) …”

You opened your eyes, half-expecting to see Tobi’s cock cradled in his hands.

“Show me more.”

You knew what he wanted. You needed to show him everything. You shoved the band of your panties to the side, revealing your wet lips to him.

“No,” he murmured, holding out a hand. “Give them to me.”

You retrieved your wet fingers, lifted your lower half to remove your panties. What am I doing?

He took them from you.

“Good girl,” he said. “Keep going.”

You spread your legs for him again, reclaiming your hungry clit and rolled it between wet fingers. “A ― ahh …” You played with yourself as Tobi held your underwear hostage. You found your erect nipple beneath the fabric of your shirt and teased it, hardening the nub. Tobi leaned in, elbows on his knees, cheering you on with a silence “yes” here and there. Your vision blurred, but surely the bulge between his legs hadn’t always been there?

A dark chuckle, followed by a falsetto of what should’ve been his true voice. “So very pretty, miss …”

You felt your stomach tightening. You dipped a finger into your entrance, bucked up so Tobi’s view was clear. Another strangled grunt from him and your head hit the couch, his name on your lips as you clenched around your finger and abused your throbbing clit with your thumb.

The thrums of pleasure were forever. You couldn’t hear Tobi anymore. You slit your eyes open after a moment, the reality of what you had done still far from dawning. A weight came across your body, compelling you to open your eyes further.

You looked up, and Tobi was on top of you.

Nestled between the gap in your thighs. One hand was at the hem of your skirt, while the other cradled your head.

“Amazing show, Miss (L/n),” he said. “I look forward to our next meeting. I think I just may make a breakthrough.”

Your blurred vision was not cured until several blinks later. Your eyes cleared, and he was gone. When you recovered, the sun was departing, bathing you in the orange light of its departure.

You couldn’t even convince yourself it had been a dream; your panties were still gone.

---------------------------------------

You hadn’t seen Tobi in weeks.

Patients came and went, but they bored you. You diagnosed both them and their problems with ease. The only one who stuck ― who haunted your every movement, your every conscious and unconscious hour ― was Tobi.

You were good at what you did, but still, you felt a fraud; the guilt of your … performance ― your amazing show, as Tobi had put it ― had weighed on you. How had he convinced you to do something so … raunchy? Why didn’t you stop him?

And what was worse: you had no distractions. Work was more of a reminder than anything else. Your ex-boyfriend had completely ceased any and all contact with you, and while under normal circumstances you would have been relieved to not be pulled into such toxicity again, his utter silence had come to worry you.

No peace for the wicked. Three attacks had come to the village in a little over two weeks. Chaos inside you and out.

You … you were beginning to think it was all Tobi’s doing.

But you could prove nothing. If you had any sense at all you would march to the village’s police force and report everything you knew, not what you could prove.

But … You didn’t want to. You only wanted him to return to you.

You were just a little obsessed.

By “obsessed” you meant: surely, Tobi had done something to your brain. You looked in the mirror and saw your face concealed by an orange, spiraling mask. You could hear his laugh before being dragged into sleep. Sometimes, shadows hugged you from behind, and you would turn to see nothing there. Nothing at all.

Day and night, Tobi ran through your mind. The idea of him scaring your ex away thrilled you, flattered you, more than it could ever frighten you.

You tapped the couch cushion with an agitated finger. The entire day had been a blur, four or five patients, the last having left only 10 minutes ago. Something about … wanting to insure a circus, or being run over by a clown or … something. To be totally honest, you couldn’t bring yourself to remember.

Your world began and ended with the possibility of a knock at your door. You stared at it, the chocolate color imprinted in your mind. Static formed around your vision.

There was no knock.

The knob ― twisted.

You jerked. The hair on your arm stood at attention as the knob jerked. You swallowed dryness as the dark shape of Tobi emerged, tangerine mask the only splash of color in a world of black.

Despite your eagerness, it was a while before you acknowledged his presence

“Long time no see.”

Tobi creaked the door closed.

“How did you know it was open?”

Your curiosity filled the pause; which voice would Tobi meet you with?

“Something … just told me it would be.”

Ah, deep voice it is then.

Tobi faced you. “I wasn’t intending to be gone so long.”

“Hm,” was your reply. You looked away, arms crossed. You knew you had no right to be so … wifey. Like he was your long suffering husband who’d missed one dinner too many. But Tobi’s sudden drop from earth had affected you with an almost feverish longing, and the hold he had on you, suddenly, drove you angry. “It’s your money you’re wasting.”

“Does that mean you miss me when I’m gone?”

You didn’t give into his teasing.

“I have lots of other clients, Tobi,” Your truth cocktailed with lies. “Lots to keep me occupied.”

“Mhm,” Tobi said, his voice dipped mockingly “Occupied …”

You rolled your eyes as Tobi amused himself across from you. An answer to your hypothesis; you couldn’t lie to him.

“Oh, come on, Miss (L/n),” Tobi said. “What happened to your sense of humor?”

You looked to him. “These … attacks.”

He cocked his head. “Hm?”

“Do they have anything to do with you?”

Tobi was quiet.

“My ex,” You continued. “He used to hound me to come back to him ― and usually I would ― right up until you started seeing me. What about that?”

The pause was longer than the last. Anxiety pumped your heart.

“... No.”

You didn’t know if you believed that ― could he lie to you?

“No to what?” You pressed. “The attacks or my ex?”

A giggle.

“Yes.”

This cheeky motherfucker ―

You fled from the couch, anger along with curiosity and a kaleidoscope of feelings Tobi aroused in you propelling each step away.

“(Y/n).”

You faced him.

“... I’m sorry.”

You were quiet.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“Oh really?” You said. “How?”

He faced you now, tapping the blazed wood of his mask. “I’ll show you.”

Your eyes flashed.

“You’ve wanted to know what I look like since the beginning, right?” he said. “Come.”

And there it was again; the same voice, compelling you to anything ― anything. You came around, hands trembling, to sit beside him.

He took your hands, guiding them to either side of his mask.

You breath knifed. Your fingers cradled the spiraling lines of the mask’s edge. Slowly, you began to lift, the mystery of Tobi unwinding with each inch.

Chin … lips … nose … eyes.

Eyes.

One eye flared scarlet, specks of blackness swimming in the optic. The other eye was purple and forever ringed, bedecked with perennial loops spinning into eternity. A part of his face was as spiraled as his mask, the result of some injury you could not place nor name.

A mystery within a mystery.

The mask plopped to the floor.

Tobi’s lips curled into a smirk. “I haven’t shown anyone my face sin ―”

Whatever Tobi was going to say died away as you flung yourself onto him, your lips locking with his.

He pulled away for only a split second, surprised by your moxy, before pulling you into a second, deeper kiss.

You crawled atop him. Tobi’s hands feasted on you, satiating themselves on your breasts to your hips, coming to squeeze at your thighs, scooting you up farther onto him. Your surprised whimper broke the kiss for only a second before Tobi retrieved you again with his mouth.

You startled at cold fingers on your skin, before realizing Tobi's hands had gone beyond to fiddle with your bra. His lips peppered your chin. A thought came to you as you fluttered your eyes closed.

“Do you still have them?”

Tobi raised to look up at you, cocked his head.

“My …” You blushed red. “Underwear.”

“ … Yes.”

You glared but there was no bite to it. “Give them back.”

A dark chuckle.

“Come and get them.”

You crashed lips to his for the third time, flicking his lips to let you in. You pushed him into the couch as his hands toyed with the clasp of your bra. In agony, you broke the kiss just to fling your shirt away and dispose of your bra, revealing your tits to him.

Tobi’s gaze was predatory as he raised to follow you but you pressed him down again, breasts crushing to his chest. You leaned into him, nether regions against his, feeling the hardness evident there. You grinded into him, earning a soft grunt in return.

“Nevermind,” Your breath warmed his earlobe. “I don’t think I’ll need them.”

You peppered Tobi’s chin until you nibbled his lips, tongue coming to play with his. He hugged you to him as he flipped you. You let out a girlish squeal ― so strong ― before Tobi released the kiss, trailing down your neck, nibbling at the jut of your collarbone, his hands traveling south.

“All I could think about,” Tobi’s words kissed your nipple, flicking it with his tongue, “since you put on that little show for me …”

You mewled as his hand slithered into your panties, fingers introduced to your wet folds.

You let your head swing back to avoid Tobi’s taunting glare, his smirk too evil to bear.

“So very wet, Miss …”

Two different voices mingled in Tobi’s laugh as he stroked your clit, his teeth grazing over your abused nipple.

“Have you touched yourself since, Miss?”

He bit you.

“Aa ―ahh!”

“Have you made yourself come since …?”

A long, tortured stroke at your clit.

“Ahh!” You arched into him. “Yes!”

Tobi grunted, shifting downward on you. He tugged your skirt down your thighs, pulling your panties along. He kneeled at the couch, robbing you of your clothes, and for a second you think he will knick another pair of panties from you when he flings your skirt and underwear away, widening your legs so he might be accepted between them.

Fingers trailed up your one inner thigh as Tobi kissed up the other. He kissed his smirk into your mons pubis, dancing around your clit, always so close ―

Before widening your lips and licking at your clit.

“Tobi …!”

Tobi’s thumb came to play with your clit as he licked, a soft hum as he savored the taste of you. Your clit became the victim of both his thumb and his tongue as he played with you. Your legs squeezed his head, mewling as his tongue lapped up what threatened to leak from your folds.

“T ― Tobi …!” You barely managed to speak at all. “I want …”

Tobi stopped, looked up to you as you propped on an elbow.

“I want …” You were too flustered to move much; you angled your foot past Tobi’s thigh, to his crotch.

The side of Tobi’s lips quirked. He seemed to catch onto your meaning as he raised from the floor and gestured for you to stand. You did so.

“No,” he said, laying down again. “Use my mouth.”

Your eyes flashed wide. You walked toward him, his hands coming to guide you as you straddled him. Your eyes rolled back as you rested against Tobi’s face, his lips coming to kiss and suck at your labia.

You moaned out as Tobi ate you, the rest of his body clear as day to you, still clothed but muscles pronounced against the black wrappings of his outfit. He sucked hard at your clit and you fell forward, steadying yourself against the hardness of his chest. Your eyes wandered to his bulge, his erection tempting your fingers.

You reached forward, brain hazed by Tobi’s sucking and licking, lapping up all of your juices. You threatened to lose your balance again as he hummed against your labia, his hands coming to your waist to steady you on his own. You reached, grasped his cock through his trousers ―

Tobi pulled you forward and you gasped at the sudden jerk.

“No.”

He went back to work on you, squeezing your thighs into his hands. You licked your lips, tempted even more by the imprint of his cock.

You reached again, handled his erection ―

Smack!

Your ass stung from the force. You squealed as in a blink, Tobi had turned you around so your back was facing his body. You looked down, his mismatched eyes narrowing at you.

You opened your mouth to fight ― before Tobi flicked his tongue against your clit, his nose pressing into you. You straddled the couch’s arm, leaning over him. You licked your lips, the sting against your skin still mingling deliciously with Tobi’s adventurous tongue.

He missed nothing, his tongue expertly catching up any juices that flowed from you. You grasped the couch, hard. Oh, you’d be bone dry by the time he was done with you.

Your stomach tightened. You leaned harder into Tobi’s mouth, surely suffocating him now, but it did nothing but spur him on as he forced you to him, focusing all of his attention on your abused clit.

“Ah ―Aaaah!” You rocked into him. Your orgasm fell over you and into Tobi’s mouth, your juices watering his tongue as you convulsed above him. You lost yourself entirely in the throes of climax, yet it didn’t matter; Tobi’s grip held you in place as he drank from you, still wagging his tongue against your clit.

You clenched again and again, burying a hand in the black of Tobi’s hair as your climax rode itself out. You relaxed against him, felt him emerge from underneath you.

“Delicious, Miss …”

Your back fell against the couch as Tobi came to tower you. He kissed your forehead. He reached downward, zipping down his fly. His cock sprang free and a new thrum of pleasure sang through you, but not before Tobi grabbed you, switching places with you and placing you above him once more. Your pussy moistened his cock.

“Now,” he said. “Where were we?”

Your movements were sloppy, disoriented as you lifted your hips, maneuvered Tobi’s cock at your entrance ― and shuddered a breath as you fell forward, feeling his cock disappear between your thighs. You pressed hands against the hardness of Tobi’s chest for purchase. Your eyes widened as the full extent of Tobi’s length sheathed into you. The position made your heart flutter. You were riding him.

Tobi’s hands found your waist again as you moved ― a light gasp escaped your lips as you bounced, miniscule movements not nearly enough to unsteady Tobi.

“Ooh ~” Tobi sang. “Oh, miss~”

His high voice followed by a deep laugh. Your hands traveled from his pectorals to his throat, squeezing hard as you rode him. You felt him intake a sharp breath, as though caught unawares. He gripped you harder, slammed you down on his cock, earning another gasp from you.

Skin slapped as you met Tobi while he met you. You were sure you would have Tobi’s hands imprinted on your waist forevermore as you bounced, circled your hips on him. You pressed thumbs into the dip of his throat, curled your lips at the strangled moan he gave seconds after.

Tobi’s hands traveled from your waist to the stinging skin of your ass, kneading hard at the flesh. His mismatched eyes flickered to your wild breasts, bouncing and swinging with your harsh pace.

“So rough~”

You bucked down onto him, the squeal he gave in return bordering on girlish ―

“Oh, miss, you’re so good ~”

A blink and you were underneath him, his weight forced on you.

“If I had known you were like this the whole time, miss,” Tobi said, pausing to lick the plump of your lips, “I wouldn’t have waited so long.”

And he thrust, hard, into you. Your lips parted to gasp, only to be filled with Tobi’s two fingers. You sucked on his dual digits as he pounded you, throwing a leg over his shoulder to open you wider to him.

Your skin stung as he hit against you, slapped endlessly with each hard thrust. Your eyes roll as Tobi’s hand returned the favor, clasp over your throat.

“No,” his deep voice commanded. “Look at me.”

Mouth agape, you obeyed. Tobi’s hand rolled over your helpless clit. You arched into his hold, eyes fluttering on his wicked smile from above. You gasped as he tightened his hold on your throat ―so strong. He swiped your clit, swiping as his hips crash into yours ― again, again, again ―

“To ―Tobi …!”

“Such a tight little willing cunt,” Tobi growled. He sunk you into the couch with each powerful thrust, pulling out until the tip of his cock tickled your entrance, only to slam back into you with a bruising pace. “Just like I thought …”

You mewled and whined underneath him, the force of his pounding overwhelming. You felt the tightness return to your stomach as Tobi praised your cunt for taking him so well, his fingers dancing over your clit. You choked out against his grip, resisting another eye-roll as it becomes too much ―

Only for Tobi to pull out entirely, leaving you disturbingly barren.

“No ―!” You gasped, your orgasm sinking beyond the horizon. Tobi’s hand left you and you raised ― only for him to twist you over. You tits jiggled and squeeze against the cushions as Tobi wrung your hands around, holding them at your back.

You relented all control, eyes closing; does this mean he’s not stopping?

You felt the heat of his cock against your skin, slipping through the plush slip of your ass, then ―

Your pained squeal mingled with Tobi’s laughter as his cock slipped into your puckered ass.

“Tobi …!”

He paid you no mind, gripped your hips, thrusting before you could adjust to his length. You bit into your tongue as he dragged your ass back to meet him.

“Perfect …”

You tried to bury yourself in the cushions ― only to be pulled back by Tobi’s grip on your hair. You arched, this time only to accommodate his hold on you. The thrusts shifted from painful to painfully pleasurable, and you moaned in his hold, rocking back into his hands.

“Good,” Tobi said. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it, miss.”

You could feel the plush of your ass bouncing against his abdomen, the tightness coming back but of a different kind. You clenched your ass involuntarily, choked as Tobi’s weight came over your back, his hand shadowing your cunt, palming your clit.

“You wanna come?” he breathed in your ear. “Want your patient to make you cum?”

You balance against the couch’s arm with a loud moan, Tobi’s hold on your hair flipping your head back.

“Yes! Gods, Tobi, please ―!”

Your hands fist over the loose cushions as Tobi pounded you with all his force. He released your hair as you came with a scream, your head falling into the couch. Your orgasm speared you along with his cock, and yet he kept on, thrusting hard into you.

“Yes …!” Tobi hissed.

It had felt as though you had been fucked forever when he finally pulled out. You twisted your head to see him leave the couch, but there was no need; Tobi lifted your head, his grip strong enough to make you abandon the couch and land on your knees in front of him.

A sinful thrum of pleasure fluttered your pussy as you knew what was to come. Tobi fisted his cock above your face. You closed your eyes.

With a deep groan, his cum painted your skin ― your lips, your chin, the upper plains of your chest. You licked up some of the heated coating that frosted your lips.

Once finished, Tobi still stood above you, head hung back, completely clothed, and it occurred to you that the two of you were at the moment opposites in every way. You occupied yourself, devouring the bitterness of his seed as he settled into post-coital bliss.

It was you who raised to meet him, wrapping arms around his waist, head tilted to see him.

“Come back,” You said. “Just one more time.”

Tobi tilted his head at you, inquisitive but quiet. He seemed more human to you now, but no less a mystery.

“You’ve seen too much.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” You said, tightening your grip. Who would you tell? Who cared? “I promise. I just … want you.”

Let me come with you. Whatever it was Tobi did, whether it was underground, corrupt, illegal, you didn’t care. You wanted whatever this was to last, you wanted to know Tobi, intimately, forever. You wanted to be the help he needed, his partner, his …

Tobi’s hand came to cup your head, a gesture that came with pain due to the many grips on your scalp, but his hold was gentle.

“I want to help you …” You said. “You know I can; in more ways than one, if you want …”

Tobi's mismatched gaze roamed to the floor. He considered what you were saying. Then, he smiled.

It saw it come before it came. Would he kill you? Or …?

“You remind me so much of her,” Tobi said. “She would’ve wanted to help me, too …”

You choose not to delay your demise, whatever shape it came in. You brought a hand up to his cheek, turning his gaze back to you ―

You admired the purple of his eye, the scarlet of the other ―

Blackness.

-----------------------------------

You had gone completely limp in his hold. He held at the small of your back, your body arched against him as though dipped in a dance.

“Sorry, Miss …” Tobi said, his lighter voice alleviating the tension he felt in his chest. “But this is what you’re good at. Tobi can’t take you away.”

He settled you on the couch, retrieved the folded blanket that was lingering on its back and sheltered your naked body with it.

“You can’t ever know Tobi, and you won’t remember him, either,” Tobi said. “Tobi thinks it’s better this way. Because, in the end … You can’t ever know Tobi. We’re all just playing parts.”

He saw an older Rin in your sleeping face, saw you as your lips parted and snuggled into the interior of the couch.

“This was good for Tobi, though,” Tobi said as he approached the door. “Tobi … enjoyed talking about his feelings.”

Tobi took one more lingering look at you, before readjusting the mask he wore at all times and left the door, locking it behind him.

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