#jin writes

[messier-jin]

Trust Me!

I’m here to elaborate on my touch starved Knives with a reader who has “physical touch” as their love language. It’s been a while since I wrote anything in English so I’m sorry in advance if I’m rusty...

I’m hope you’ll enjoy these headcanons!

Content warning: gender neutral reader, maybe OOC, physical affection, skin-to-skin contact, fluff in general.

Song I listened to while writing: Trust Me! by DREAMCATCHER.

Knives does not like being touched. Or more precisely, he never lets anyone touch him. You, on the other hand, touching is how you prove someone you care about them, reassuring them with your presence and gentle touches.

The first time where, out of habit, you reached out toward Knives to place your hand against his back, you did not have to time to come closer enough that he stopped you. “Don’t.” A simple word which sounded like a warning.

As frustrating as it was, not matter how much you wanted to pat his back, no matter how much you wanted to give him a hug, no matter how much you just wanted to even bump your shoulder against his, you did not. You were patient and accepted his boundaries.

Well, until one day, where you found Knives fuming, alone in a room. It was not the first time you ran across him, isolating himself as he mumbled things about his brother, humans, “that woman”... And with intimidating aura around him, nobody dared to come near, scared to lose a limb or worse.

But this very day, you decided to move. You called out his name in a gentle voice. And before he had the time to reject you, you extended your hand and tenderly patted his head, promising that everything would be okay.

And at this very moment, time stopped from Knives. His eyes were focused on you and only you. He felt the tension leave his body. He never realized how much he needed the comforting pat (not that he would ever admit it anyway).

From this moment on, Knives has never rejected your touch ever again. He accepts every touch you offer, and inconsciously leans into it.

Placing your hand against his back when you leaned over to grab something? Yes. Casual bumps on his shoulder? He accepts them. You playing with his hands and fingers when you’re talking with him? Please, do. Giving him goodnight cheek kisses when you head to bed? He melts on the spot. A goodbye hug each time you have to go working? He does not want you to stop.

Knives got used to your physical affection faster that he thought he would, quickly becoming addicted to it. He even complained that one time you were sicked and you were the one refusing to touch him to not give him your germs. “I can’t get sick. Come.”

With time, Knives would start to initiate the touches himself. Except that his ones were more daring, as I can picture him liking skin-to-skin contact (in a not sexual way).

Sometimes, when you go to bed, Knives follows you to lay down and has some rest, even if he does not need it as much as you. He slips his hand under the top of your pajamas to place it against your belly, gently stroking the skin there.

When he feels more comfortable with the idea, his hand moves up to rest on your chest, just above your heart. He just likes to feel your heart beating under his hand. And with your permission, he would lay his head against your chest to listen to your beating heart (with or without your top on, but this man has his preference for without because, once again, skin-to-skin contact). And if you were to gently play with his hair, caressing his scalp with your fingers at the same time, he would just melt in your hands.

(Also, if someone dares to come and bother you two during these kind of moments, Knives would destroy them on the spot, no question asked).

All in all, Knives would never admit how much he fell in love with your gentle touches, nor how much he actually craves your physical affection and seeks it when you’re not here to offer him any... But it’s obvious he loves it. After all, you’re the only one who can touch him.

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #millions knives #millions knives x reader #gender neutral reader #knives x reader #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader #trigun maximum x reader #nai x reader #it can be read with any Knives in head really #because I think that all Knives are touch starved #this is really self indulgent because my love language is physical touch #and I think that Knives deserves comforting touches #I would kill this man with physical affection watch me #jin writes #and yes I had to put DREAMCATCHER in here so enjoy a gentle ballad from them #and I just remembered one of friends follows this blog so IF YOU SEE THIS DON'T JUDGE ME

[jin-in-faerun]

Imagine Rolan and Dammon teaming up on Tav only fucking her with their tails until she’s a mess begging for their cocks.

Hmmm.

I feel this is a next project?

#jin writes #bg3 rolan #bg3 #bg3 dammon #dammon #rolan #rolan x tav #dammon x tav #rolan x Tav x Dammon #smut ideas #tail play I have a thing for it okay?

[jinmukangwrites]

prompt 20 with damian and jason (batfam)?

20: Blanket

Hey don't cry, AO3 still down drabble prompts

-o-o-o-o-

Jason heard scuffling at the other side of the bedroom wall. He frowned, pushing himself up to his elbows so he could check his phone for any break-in alerts. Nothing. Which meant someone used the code to get in, which meant it was a bat.

Tonight, he wasn't staying at one of his own safe houses, but at one of Bruce's. He got his ankle twisted and this one happened to be closer than his own houses, and he, at the time, really didn't want to stay on the ankle longer than he had to. He had called it an early night too, so when he looked at the time and saw it was nearing 3am, he wasn't too surprised to hear someone else moving around, especially considering he could hear the sound of a growing thunderstorm outside.

Moving carefully off the bed so the mattress didn't creak, he got to his feet and padded silently to the door. He creaked it open and squinted into the light of the combination living room, kitchen, and dining area. It wasn't a large safehouse, meant for one person really unless someone else wanted to sleep on the single couch.

Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw none other than a sopping wet Damian glaring at the open linen closet, wearing most of his Robin suit sans the mask. Jason wondered why the pipsqueak would be looking so upset at the closet, like it had killed his cat, but then he glanced back at his bed and realized he took all the blankets on the lower shelves.

He grinned, looking back at Damian as the boy considered his options. He studied the shelves, even placing a hand on a shelf, then thinking better of it and looking back at the kitchen for a chair to stand on.

Jason decided he'd save the kid from the embarrassment by offering a different kind of embarrassment. "Need help, squirt?"

Damian nearly jumped out of his skin, giving a small shout and pulling out one of his swords. His eyes landed on Jason quickly, and his defensive shock turned into a classic scowl.

"Jason. I was not aware you were here."

Jason stepped out of the door and leaned against the wall near the linen closet, smiling. "Sorry, next time I'll let you know."

Damian scowled harder, and Jason sent a smug look at the linen closet. "Need a hand?"

Damian's mouth thinned, looking like he would love nothing more than to argue, but Jason didn't give him a chance to. He shooed Damian out of the way and reached up in the closet, grabbing a blanket, but handing over a couple towels first. "Dry off, shrimp. Couch may be plastic lined but the blanket sure ain't. Besides, your lips are blue."

Damian huffed, snatching the towels and stomping to the bathroom. Jason smiled and grabbed a second blanket, walking to the couch and laying the first one down and tucking it between the practically vacuum sealed cushions. It was standard protocol for Batman safehouses; the couches are plastic lined and the beds have removable protective mats. Made it easier to get blood off if the only form of warmth you had was a crap ton of random blankets you could pull from the closet.

He looked at the second blanket in his hands, then stopped in distant surprise. He recognized this blanket. Dick gave it to him for his eleventh birthday. It was a simple one, two squares of plush fleece with unfinished edges, the blanket held together instead by inch wide cuts along the perimeter tied together with beads. Red, green, yellow.

At the time, Jason thought it was the coolest blanket. Now, he can see the imperfections of the most certainly handmade gift. He didn't know Bruce kept it, let alone if he even knew it was Jason's.

He ran his fingers along the fleece, some of the edges beginning to pill from use he never gave it.

He didn't have time to think about how he felt about that before Damian stomped back out of the bathroom, shoving the towels into a nearby hamper and snatching the blanket out of Jason's hands, plopping down onto the couch. He hadn't changed out of his Robin suit even though Jason knew there were several stored changes in the bathroom.

"Hmm, acceptable blanket, Jason. I like this one," Damian said, and Jason felt a genuine smile tug at his lips, something warm in his gut.

"I like that one too," was all he said before he ruffled his damp hair. Damian hissed and slapped his hand away, but he wasn't aggravated. He knew he was being teased, and he wasn't genuinely upset about it. "Make sure you're done shivering before you go back out," he continued.

"I know how to take care of myself," Damian huffed. "But... thank you."

Jason nodded, turning and waving a lazy finger-gun at the kid. "Night."

"... Goodnight, Jason."

#dc comics #batfam #jason todd #red hood #damian wayne #robin #dc #jin writes #fanfiction

[onmyo-jin]

For the prompts: HeiHua HeiHua HeiHua! A few possibilities:

That tumblr post about the two professors who had a legendary rivalry and only the TA knew they were married.

That freaking raccoon keeps stealing the birdseed from every new "raccoon proof" bird feeder Xiao Hua puts out. THIS IS WAR.

Snow White and the Huntsman

Something based on a piece of fanart!

[so many options! I might come back for some of the others but this one is based on this beautiful drawing by @ohyka because I am weak for hand kisses]

It was, subjectively, intellectually, even objectively, gross.

They'd been climbing up the rocky mountain for ages, they were bothy grimy and sweaty, and who knows what those hands had touched even before they came into contact with mother Nature's honest dirt.

Still, when Xiazi caught him when the brittle stone gave way under his foot, Xiao Hua was... touched. Yes, that had to be the word for it. Moved seemed too strong a description, appreciative was too cold-- yes, Xiao Hua was touched. That had to be the thing that was fluttering in his stomach, that and gravity's sudden pull. The ropes would have held him of course, he was no novice climber. Still, Hei Xiazi was no novice either. He must have known the ropes would hold, surely? He'd lept to Xiao Hua's rescue without a second thought regardless.

Perhaps moved might be accurate enough...

"Hua'er-ye, aren't you gonna let go of my hand now?" A stupid question from a foolish man. The grin was not remotely tempered by his eternal sunglasses. Of course Xiao Hua was going to let go. They were halfway up a mountain, dangling from ropes (secure ropes! strong ropes! but still, they were dangling terribly inelegantly). It would be ill-advised indeed to hold on, a waste of energy at the very least. His mouth had already betrayed him as those thoughts circled his mind: "No. That's my hand now."

"Hua'er?" Tch, so informal. Where did the man get the guts to call Xiao Hua that?

Using his free hand and the now more solid footing, he boosted himself up on a tiny ledge, dragging Xiazi along. Having no choice but to follow, Hei Xiazi jumped after him-- not even thinking about it! Was the man trying to fall off of the mountain or what?

Slightly breathless, they sat side to side for a moment.

"Hua'er-ye, what do you need another hand for, huh?"

"Whatever I want," arrogance was easy, always easy. Sometimes he regretted learning that particular smokescreen, but he refused to take back his words. Perhaps there was something else he could do-- which was gross, and unthinkable, so it was best just not to think about it at all.

He didn't need to see Hei Xiazi's eyes to tell they were wide as saucers when Xiao Hua lifted his hand to his lips, and pressed a kiss to that warm skin. He wasn't going to react to the way he could feel Xiazi freeze up under his hand, to the breath he heard halt on its way in to Xiazi's lungs. The red on his cheeks must be from the exertion of the climb, as well.

When Xiao Hua finally released his hand and sat back, Xiazi's hand remained flaoting between them for a too-long moment. Xiao Hua had enough time to wonder if he'd broken the man's remaining braincells, until--

"Hua'er-ye, do you need a hand with any other things?" He didn't need to look to see the grin-- he looked anyway and even caught that damned eyebrow wiggle.

Was it too late to jump off the mountain anyway?

#au fic meme #heihua #dmbj #tlt #jin writes #if you saw me mentioning Ao3 ratings somewhere no you didn't #hei xiazi #xiao hua #fanfic #can you tell I've been watching UN #denial is a river in egypt #I love writing them they're both horrible in their own way

[trans-ace-lee]

Wow Fantasstic Baby

Author's Note: The title is a reference to this song Fantastic Baby - BigBang and was inspired by a post by @ticklishfanart about Tsukishima's milky legs. Warning: This is a tickle fic, so if that's not something you want to see, feel free to ignore this post.

I've read the manga in full twice and own the whole manga set, so I think it's a crime I haven't written for Haikyuu yet. Enjoy this hellhole of a fic that I came up with at work and mostly wrote on the bus to and from work and at work in corners of breakrooms.

Mutuals tag: @otomiya-tickles @italeean @giggly-squiggily @myreygn @ticklygiggles @duckymcdoorknob @jettorii

Tsukishima likes to say that he enjoys massages. Yamaguchi, the bastard, likes to give him back massages during intense study sessions under the guise of trying to put him to sleep.

Additionally, Akiteru refers to him as a stick of bamboo, saying that he needs to learn how to “loosen up” a bit. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he is a stiff person. Since throwing himself into volleyball, his muscles ache all the time, so massages are also welcome to relieve his pain.

And he would like to say he’s enjoying the leg massage that Kuroo had offered to give him, but he’s too busy cackling to pay attention to how nice it feels.

“Really, here?” Kuroo asks while kneading into his calves as Tsukishima debates actually slamming his fists onto the ground. He didn’t even know that calves could be ticklish, let alone garner such a big reaction out of someone.

“Staahahaap,” Tsukishima begs, trying to yank his legs out of Kuroo’s grasp.

He doesn’t need to turn around to know there’s a smirk on the latter’s face. “But this is for your own good.” Kuroo pauses to skitter his fingers from the back of Tsukishima’s knees to just below his butt. “It’s not my fault you’re so ticklish. Plus, I kind of want to keep tickling you.”

Tsukishima fully smashes his face into his arms to hold back a scream.

And to Tsukishima’s utter, utter horror, Kuroo doesn’t miss his reaction.

“Oh? I always thought you had a nice ass, but I didn’t expect it to be so ticklish,” Kuroo says.

The sound that comes out of Tsukishima at the comment doesn’t sound human. “Damn, your ears sure turn red fast, don’t they?”

“Fuhahuck,” Tsukishima replies, giggling like the rattling sound of a snare drum when Kuroo starts pinching all over his ass. He’s thankful that they’re the only ones in the gym. Maybe personal practice was more useful than he originally thought. “Naaahahat there. Stohohop.”

“Not here?” Kuroo switches to spidering along the bottom of his butt, every once in a while, sneaking a hand to his inner thighs. “You sound so happy though.”

Lies. Straight-up lies. He’s not happy, he’s dying. Here lies Tsukishima Kei. Maybe Yamaguchi will miss him.

“Fine. I’ll move,” Kuroo says, digging into the back of Tsukishima’s quads.

In Tsukishima’s defense, he does not shriek…that loudly.

“Is this a good spot too?”

“Gohoho somewhere else,” Tsukishima pleads, feeling a mostly foreign wetness building in the corner of his eyes.

“Hmm? But I did what you asked…All right, I’ll be nice.”

Tsukishima already starts to regret asking Kuroo to move spots since he’s figured out that begging Kuroo to stop is falling on deaf ears.

“Ass, inner thighs, or hamstrings?” Kuroo asks.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes or yell in frustration, Tsukishima settles on trying to compromise some more. “Thahaat’s not fair. I’ll piihick somewhere else. Ahahanywhere else.”

“Anywhere?” Kuroo hums, “Sorry, but you picked the wrong choice, my dear.”

My dear? Wrong choice, his ass. Tsukishima decides that he will be getting Kuroo back tenfold after this is all over. From what he’s overheard when Hinata babbles, Kenma should be willing to deluge Kuroo’s worst spot or spots.

He hopes it is spots.

The thought of revenge stops at the feeling of fingers scribbling all over the back and inner parts of his thighs and all around his ass. He’d like to think, but it tickles so much that he doesn’t register that the loud sound he hears is coming from him.

“Awww,” Kuroo coos, “Was that a snort I heard? Who knew you could look so pretty underneath that constant frown, especially in those cute little shorts.”

Tsukishima curses the volleyball shorts they have to wear. Right now, he’s wishing that they were just a tad longer. The electric feeling shooting up and down his legs leave him paralyzed.

Even if he wanted to pull them away, the thought of doing so is almost physically painful, so he can only lay there and laugh until he can feel tears dripping down his face. He doesn’t bother begging or pleading and just sticks to crying.

Part of him thinks laughing so hard for so long feels nice because he hasn’t laughed that much since middle school. Sometimes he finds himself chuckling when Yamaguchi makes funny faces when he’s thinking or snickering every time he looks at Kuroo’s bed hair and when Kuroo smirks at his opponents from across the net. Maybe he even laughs when he sees Kuroo messing around with Bokuto and Akaashi.

Oh.

Well, shit. Tsukishima figures that laughing and maybe tickling is okay with Kuroo and Yamaguchi. But only them. 

When he's tickled by Yamaguchi it reminds him of being a kid, before everything that happened to Akiteru. Okay, he might consider being tickled by his brother in the future. In all his pessimism and cynicism there's hope in there somewhere. That bright-eyed kid is still a part of him. 

With Kuroo, he finds himself melting. It's warm and sends clouds of floating, fuzzy sensations to fill his head and heart. 

Home. The feeling of home he decides. 

Kuroo's dexterous fingers are both torturous and comforting. It takes nearly every ounce of willpower in him not to beg for more instead. 

…What is wrong with him? Beg for more?

There are a couple of spots on Tsukishima’s butt that have him shrieking. It’s a high-pitched sound, reminding him of a younger, more innocent him. And, yeah, nope. He can forget about thinking again.

“I think I like this spot,” Kuroo says, pinching and wiggling his fingers in Tsukishima’s inner thighs.

Tsukishima slams his legs shut and traps Kuroo’s fingers in between them. He cackles even harder than when Kuroo was tickling his calves when this ordeal first started. “I dohohon’t,” he babbles.

“Look at you.” Tsukishima can hear the mock sympathy and slight pout in Kuroo’s voice. “Is someone too weak to handle a little tickling? Poor thing, taken down by a couple of fingers.”

He wants to push Kuroo’s hands away, but he settles on covering his face instead, not bothering to wipe the fresh set of tears out of his eyes.

“That cute face of yours is so red right now. It’s very pretty looking.”

His face heats up more at the comment. Besides volleyball, he’s not the kind of person who goes outside. Although he knows it might be nicer to study in a park or outside a café, he prefers the comfort of AC in his room or in a library. He feels pretty. So pretty. He’s been approached by girls or, more or less, Yamaguchi has been approached by girls, saying how handsome he is.

But for some reason, when Kuroo says it, it hits so much harder.

Tsukishima is ripped out of his thoughts by fingers dancing on his hamstrings midway down his thighs. More high-pitched giggles spill out of him as he grows weaker and weaker by the second.

After a few rounds of Kuroo dashing from each spot and sneaking a couple of swipes up his feet that leave him flinching despite feeling like putty, small hiccups break through his laughter which has almost gone silent.

The tickling stops almost immediately. Tsukishima takes the chance to roll over and somewhat flop on the ground with all the grace of a beached whale. Gasping for much-needed air, he shuts his eyes until the moisture dries from his face and his breathing evens.

Although he's flushed and tired, there's this buzzing feeling in his head. He's washed in a glow that spreads from his heart to the rest of his body. A small smile graces his features.

It's softer than normal. Different from the smirk he wears during volleyball matches or the bored one that stays on his face during classes.

"So…" Kuroo starts, breaking the silence, "Since I've gotten a chance to touch that ass, can I have a chance to have all of you?"

A snort bubbles out of Tsukishima's nose, which turns into another laughing fit. 

Kuroo wives his left hand in front of Tsukishima's face. "Still feeling ticklish there, giggly?"

"That was awful. If the rest of your pickup lines are that terrible, I can't imagine the rest of you." Kuroo’s smile wobbles a bit. "But luckily for me, my brother's advice to loosen up and make more bad decisions has grown on me, so I think I'll take you up on that offer."

Tsukishima chuckles once more when Kuroo feigns to punch him in the chest. "Y-you aren't allowed to scare me like that," Kuroo replies, helping Tsukishima sit up.  

A soft smile works its way onto Tsukishima’s face as he says, "Well, I guess you're just going to have to get used to me getting you back for teasing me all the time."

Kuroo only smirks at him, and Tsukishima has to resist the urge to kiss Kuroo silly.

Wait what?

"Oh Kenma," Tsukishima sings, snickering when Kuroo’s face morphs into a mortified expression. 

He starts full-on laughing when Kuroo bolts out the gym door with a see you later that ends in a note that rises at the end in a pleasant high-pitched tone. Tsukishima wants to hear the sound again once he gets his revenge. 

#tickle fic #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #tsukishima kei #kuroo tetsuro #jin's fics #jin writes #kurotsukki

[journeyofjin]

Cheap Flight

Maybe in coping i knew of nothing, i just figured. Surely I wasn’t out drinking beer and vodka in the attempt to forget or cutting myself and breaking laws I expected anyone might do if they felt as I did. But sometimes, the regrets of many moons ago heavily inundated me in waves that left me heaving; and when the waves washed back, I found myself looking out over a cocktail of debris which emblazed in a glow so lustrous, so heartsick and empty, that I could hardly remember that we had ever been anything but strangers.

When Kait Rokowski wrote, "Nothing ever ends poetically, it ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red." I understood what a chaos we truly were. We were strangers, but our story made us beautiful.

#journey of a book #jin writes #love #things i never told you

[mausinly]

i wanna see these big scary men get all flustered, give em a taste of their own medicine

Thinking about cod men with the most s/o of all time that is just so so tender with them and is so soft and kisses them so so good just like they deserve.

Thinking about cod men with an s/o that doesn't hesitate to tell them how pretty they are and will hold and caress them in a heartbeat, watching as their big bad military man melts in their arms.

Thinking about cod men that feel tears brim their eyes as their darling cups his head in their hands, their thumbs ever so gently brushing over his cheeks as they pepper kisses all over his face.

Their s/o makes sure to kiss every scar, every blemish and imperfection, everywhere but his lips until he murmurs how much of a tease his darling is. Only for their lips to meet in the most tender, passionate kiss he's ever received in his life, followed by loving whispers in the dark of night only for him to hear.

#maus writes #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #konig x reader #kim horangi hong jin x reader #horangi x reader #god there are too many tags to add #nikto x reader #sebastian kreuger x reader #gromsko x reader #i would type out his full name but my keyboard and tumblr tagging sustem wont let meeee

[marxy-06]

Favorites Rec List 3

More of my favs -> Thanks to all these incredible writers for making my day a little better :))

Kim Namjoon

Stretch you out (@chateautae)

A little bit in love with you (@joonbo)

Mr. masseuse (@lavenjoon)

"Let me take care of you" (@mintelepathy)

Fantasies (@sweetwritertanya)

Kim Seokjin

24/7 Marriage counselor (@jimlingss)

A better grip (@jinkookspencil)

A helping hand (@jjungkookislife)

You again (@gashinabts)

Soarin' (@aquagustd)

Seokjin's ho ho ho (@yoongsisbae)

Jealous (@youtifulhobi)

Sacrifices (@justcallmenikki7)

Influence (@aquagustd)

Min Yoongi

Back burner (@yoonpobs)

Escapism (@yoonlattesworld)

Finding home (@helenazbmrskai)

Strawberry icecream (@euphoricfilter)

When I needed you (@dreamescapeswriting)

The cockpile: love birds (@httpjeon)

Crescendo (@ugh-yoongi)

Apricity (@delightfulserendipity)

Jung Hoseok

All it takes (@yoongiofmine)

Nibbling it (@jjksblackgf)

The promises we keep (@vyduan)

Your body is an artwork (@borathae)

Maybe the first, but not the last time (@euphoricfilter)

Park Jimin

Oh so reluctant (@back2bluesidex)

Pretty like you (@axigailxo)

Serendipity (@angellesword)

Blowing dandelions (@httpjeon)

All I need (@joonberriess)

Apricot (@vminity21)

Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)

Star light, star bright (@readyplayerhobi)

High school sweethearts (@choiwrites)

Taste of little (@maliby)

Cherry king (@jiminrings)

Turning to stone (@jjungkookislife)

He makes you insecure (@kookiesbuckethat)

Kim Taehyung

The art of touch (@chateautae)

Nude (@btssmutgalore)

Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)

Match made in heaven (@beenbaanbuun)

"I'll take care of you" (@guqwrvte)

Library kisses (@kwanslvr)

Jeon Jungkook

Way Back Home (@solemnreads)

Stretch you out (@chateautae)

Seven Days (@bonny-kookoo)

Jock!jungkook (@joonberriess)

Tracing your tattoos (@btsugarush)

Shades of red (@thatlongspringnight)

Pu$$y fairy (@angelguk)

Idealizations concerning real life relations (@venusiangguk)

Little blue pill (@dreamescapeswriting)

Brown eyed baby (@jeonstudios)

Superstar (@jinkookspencil)

Spicy n' sweet (@thvhoe)

The ability to fathom (@hanniwrites)

Bad omega, sweet omega (@helenazbmrskai)

"I couldn't live without you" (@jungk0oksthighs)

In my eyes (@axigailxo)

"Besties for the resties?" (@jessikahathaway)

You're leaving me (@delukoo)

Love; weakness (@akinnie75)

Bloodline (@jjkeverlast)

Greek god (@bonny-kookoo)

Size kink (@lavenjoon)

Ex on the beach (@beahae)

Off-league (@hansolmates)

Accidental roommates (@jjkeverlast)

Good girl (@bonny-kookoo)

Crazy (@kookiecrumb)

Curious boy (@jinkookspencil)

Confident (@h0neypjm)

Still perfect (@cupoftaae)

OT7

Trouvaille (@spookyserenades)

A comforting hand (@purpleyoonn)

Abundance (@angelicyoongie)

Appreciation (@vminizzle)

Reaction: faking orgasms (@dreamescapeswriting)

Mean kitty, soft kitty (@purpleyoonn)

Best of us (@bts-trash-blog)

You belong (@imnotlauriane)

(If you have any recs pls share, especially for Hobi, Jin, & Rm :))

#writing #bts namjoon #bts v #bts jin #bts suga #bts x reader #bts smut #bangtan #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #run bts #bts jung hoseok #bts jung jungkook #bts jungguk #bts jungkook #bts recs #fanfic #fanfic rec

[trivia-yandere]

payment plan

your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to his brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. @momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @minshookie29

valentine’s day masteriist

word count: 5.509

warning: non-con/coercion, cmnf, smut, dub-con, degradation/humiliation, dominant jin, submissive reader, collaring, affair, unsolicited touching, impregnation kink, thigh riding, oral sex/deep throat, dirty talk, kissing, creampie,

“Your collar…” Jin murmurs, his eyes staring at the pink collar he has given you. It has diamonds wrapped around and in the middle, is a gold shaped heart. “...is so cute.”

“Thank you, sir.” you murmur, your thighs clenching together nervously underneath Jin’s intense gaze.

“Isn’t it sad that your husband is away?” Jin scoffs, a wicked smirk forming onto his lips - rosy and plump.

Kim Seokjin, tall with a slender build. Dark hair and even darker eyes. He’s beautiful - utterly gorgeous. His beauty is often compared to that of a God; ethereal. He carried himself as such, strutting into any room and completely holding the attention from everyone occupying it.

Kim Seokjin, wealthy - one of the richest men in the nation. He owned several businesses that thrived; all of which funded his life. He had enough generational wealth that his great-great grandchildren wouldn’t have to work - and he’d often boast about that fact. Kim Industries were one of the most well known and luxurious industries to be a part of - employees were even looked at as better off just for being apart of the business. 

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law. The very man who stood besides your husband, his elder brother, while you and he were wed. He gave a speech about the love you and your husband had was that of true love and raised his glass to give you a celebratory toast - “to my sister-in-law, Y/N. Welcome to the family.” 

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law, and the same man you are having an affair with. 

“It is sad, sir.”

Jin tilts his head a bit. “Then why don’t you look it?” he questions. “Maybe you’re happy to be with me instead of your good for nothing husband?”

You swallow at Jin’s harsh words, appearing physically ill at them. Jin doesn’t care, however, and openly berates his brother around you at any given moment.

It was 5 months prior when your husband came to you and confessed that he was completely broke - that you and he had not a dollar to your names. It came as a shock. No, your husband was not as wealthy as Jin - but he was nowhere near broke. Their father had helped start up a business before allowing them out in the world. While Jin branched out and became a big name in multiple industries, your husband was smaller. However, the Kim name had benefits. 

“How are we broke?” you asked with wide eyes, not believing your ears. “We have a few  hundred thousands saved up for a rainy day.”

Your husband had confided in you that the money was gone - everything that was saved has since been wiped away. 

The home you and he bought had to be sold, along with the cars. You were homeless, and the only way your husband was willing to turn was his younger brother.

Seokjin had welcomed you two with open arms and gave his brother a job at one of the many businesses he owned - it was an ego killer. Your husband was the older brother, but yet, the younger one was more successful and thriving. You and your husband moved into Seokjin’s home (even if he did have enough money to lend you a vacation home) and allowed you to borrow his cars whenever needed.

The hours your husband worked were always long, working from sun up to sun down. He came home exhausted and didn’t want to do anything but rest - and you understood. You contemplated asking Jin if there were any available openings in his business for you to work, but your husband shot you down. “I’m the man, Y/N. I have to be the one providing for you.”

As much as you appreciated the efforts your husband set in place, you wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth - that you trusting him got you nowhere. You were homeless, staying in a (large mansion, yes) with his brother, becoming a complete burden on him. 

Your feelings were never stated aloud, but it showed in your actions. You loved your husband to death truly, but you didn’t want to be around him. You soon got your own room in the mansion and to keep yourself busy, decided to take on chores. You cleaned from top to bottom and cooked constantly. As much as you were annoyed with your husband, you always assured he had three meals a day that you cooked personally.

“I am happy to be with you.” you murmur to Jin, understanding that it’s what he wants to hear. Despite being highly successful and wealthy, hearing that he was better than his elder brother brought satisfaction over Kim Seokjin.

“I know you are.” Jin brings a hand up to touch your cheek softly. “Isn’t this why you allow me to do whatever I want to you? Because my good for nothing brother puts his lovely wife…” Jin trails his hand down to your collared neck. “...in the hands of another man.”

You swallow the lump in your throat nervously. 

“Nothing in this world is free, Y/N-ah.” you recall Jin speaking those very words to you for the first time. You had just gotten out of the shower, strolling into your bedroom in nothing but a robe to find the man on your bed. He sits poshly, waiting for you. “I give my brother a job, a place to stay and in return…” Jin trailed off, having since pushed himself from your bed to come to you and without a warning, hands dipped between your robe.

Jin never forgot to remind you that you lived in his home - that you husband (though his  brother) worked right under him and if he truly desired, could fire him at any given moment just because. 

Maybe that’s why you never told Jin no - that you allowed him to touch you. In the beginning, it was only that; touching. He would come up behind you while you washed the dishes and press himself firmly against you, his hands gripping your waist before they rub up your sides - but then he’d leave you be. 

But of course, with you never stopping him - it escalated. Jin was no longer satisfied with just touching you because what was the fun in that? Your husband's work load became longer until he had no days off - and he never went against it. That only meant that you were alone with Jin more often. 

“You keep clenching your legs together.” Jin notes. “Are you rubbing them together because you want some type of friction?” he then shakes his head with a scoff. “Just like a whore would.”

Jin turns away from you and ventures into the bedroom - his bedroom. You swallow, now remembering that you and he were just in the hallway of the large mansion. “Come.”

And you do, following him into his bedroom. You never been inside his room before - he always came to yours. But it’s large and as luxurious as the rest of his home. His bed is large - possibly a California king - and it sits right in the middle of the room and behind it is a large window that takes up nearly the whole wall. It’s snowing, the trees outside are covered in beautiful white snow and the amount of it covers the ground completely. You are in awe at the view that Seokin has just outside his window that has such beautiful natural light that there wasn’t any need for one inside the room to be on.

Your eyes scan over the rest of the room and it’s then you notice just how it’s covered in mirrors - even on the ceiling. You wonder if this is a room Seokjin sleeps in, or just takes whatever flings he has.  

“Come.” Jin repeats, venturing towards the left of his room to a cushioned seat - it’s gray and matches his bed perfectly. He takes a seat, eyebrows lifting for you to come to him. “I’m glad you wore the lingerie I bought for you. Pink is so cute on your skin.”

Jin’s complement causes your body to flush with heat. You could never grow accustomed to it - maybe it’s the way he speaks. He’s always so smooth and his words come out so natural.

“Sit.” Jin commands and you venture over to him. His eyes lower to your crotch, satisfied with himself that he got crotchless lingerie for you to wear. As much as he enjoyed your naked figure, there was something about the pink hue against your skin that he loves to stare at.

“On my thigh.” Jin commands once more and you know where he’s getting at. You swallow once more, seating yourself on his clothed thigh.

Jin loved when you were naked - or nearly - and he was fully clothed. There was something about getting you out of your clothes that drove him crazy, even if he was able to mask it perfectly - and you never fought him about it, either. You were the perfect submissive woman he needed - and the fact that you weren’t his woman made it better.

“Don’t just sit there shy, Y/N.” Jin speaks. He widens his legs, manspreading to get comfortable on the chair. “Go ahead and rub yourself on my thigh. It has to feel better than squeezing your legs together.”

You don’t fight Jin - you never do. Your hips begin to buckle. You never liked when Jin’s eyes were on you - they were so dark and voyeuristic; always watching you whenever he saw fit. However, there’s nothing you could ever say to him about it - he made sure to remind you just who signs your husbands paychecks.

Every Time you do this with Jin - cheat on your husband with his brother - it always ends with you regretting it. But, in the moment, you don’t allow yourself to ever deny him - you tell yourself because your life depends on him, but there was another side of you. The reality of it all that you were enjoying this - secretly enjoying the affair and how scandalous it was. You enjoyed the way Jin would touch you, sometimes even sneaking touches when his brother was around.

“You’re so wet, Y/N. You’re ruining my suit pants. It’s expensive - far more than anything your husband can afford.”

You think Jin enjoys talking down to his brother but cannot understand why. Your husband never does, you note, and when they’re around one another they appear to be close; often laughing and sharing stories of their childhood.

Jin places a hand on your thigh to squeeze it. “Go faster.”

You do as you’re told, a low groan releasing from your lips. You bite your lips to hold back another, but Jin slaps your thigh. “Stop hiding your moans. I want to hear you.” 

You moan a little louder, the friction against your clit feeling just right. You begin to rock your hips in circles, whining at how good it truly felt - and how pathetic you were for allowing this to happen.  

Jin’s eyes darken and he licks his plump lips. There was nothing like a woman - someone like you exactly - grinding against his thigh and chasing her own orgasm. You were considered off-limits - not only a married woman, but a woman who is married to his brother. You were like a forbidden fruit, something so tempting but he shouldn’t have; out of his reach.

But, you weren’t that. Nothing was out of Kim Seokjin’s reach - not even you. You wore the collar that he gave you willingly, along with the lingerie and now, your pussy is drenched and staining his suit pants. “Go ahead and cum for me, Y/N. I know you want to.” Jin says, squeezing your thigh even harder in encouragement. 

Your pussy is so warm and wet; it drenches through Jin’s suit pants and he can feel just how excited you are on his own thigh. 

Jin loves to watch you - loves to watch you come undone just for him. You grind against his thigh harder, whimpering freely as your eyes begin to roll in the back of your head.

Jin slides two fingers beneath your grinding pussy to have a feel of your wet clit and it takes everything in him to not groan at the juices that coat his fingers. “How slutty.” Jin’s voice is raspy as he responds to you.

Your body shudders with goosebumps with how deep Seokjin’s voice becomes. You’re now grinding against Jin’s fingers and you cum almost instantly, a shrill cry releasing from your throat.

Jin places his fingers into his mouth and hums. “How sweet you are, Y/N, cumming all over the place.” he pops his fingers from his mouth. “I let you cum, Y/N. I want you to do the same.”

“Yes, sir-”

Jin is already pushing you off of him and forcing you to your knees. Your eyes open instantly when your knees hit the cold floor, but you don’t protest. 

Jin shakes his head while a smirk forms onto his lips. “You’re so obedient, Y/N. You do everything I tell you to do without question.” he then places a hand against your cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

You nod your head. “That’s right, sir.” you respond. 

Jin hums, his eyes zoning in on your face. His thumb traces your lips softly for a bit, and you’re confused as to what he’s doing and what the hold up was. “I was thinking about giving your husband a raise. He’s been doing such a good job lately.”

There’s malice in Jin’s tone as he speaks; spite. He scoffs a bit after he says it and you swallow at what he’s about to say next in anticipation. “Depends on how well you treat me, Y/N.”

And there it was - you’ve known as much. Jin wasn’t doing anything out of the pure kindness of his heart; he was sleeping with his brother's wife after all. This was nothing but a game to him - whatever issues he had with his brother, you’d never know. 

There’s nothing for you to say in response to Jin. You only nod your head, your hands tangling with his suit pants to take him out. Jin watches you with fierce eyes, never leaving you once. 

Your hands are trembling under his gaze, but this isn’t something that you need to mess up.

It’s sad - and you cannot be upset with anyone but yourself. You’ve allowed Jin to grow comfortable with disrespecting your marriage - you allowed him to talk down about your husband to the point that he does it constantly, even in moments such as this. There’s a part of you that hates yourself for allowing yourself to be used by this man.

But then the other part of you is attempting to give yourself grace. The other side of you wanted to blame your husband for losing everything in the marriage; so much so that you felt like you needed to do this with Jin so the man wouldn’t grow spiteful - so you could remain in his home while your husband continued to work in his brother's company. 

Jin notices your internal dialogue as you begin to remove his cock from his underwear, but he doesn’t bring himself to care much. After all, he never heard a no from you - you gave him what he wanted without a fight.  

Jin was no monster - but you weren’t a saint either. You moaned for him loudly when he was inside of you. You begged for more when you were drunk off of pure pleasure. Your fingernails scarred his back and your juices would stain his clothing.

You wanted this just as badly as Jin did - you were just a married woman who, at the end of it all, had to look herself in the mirror. He didn’t have a wife he had to look at after fucking you - and he could care less about looking his brother in the face.

“You’re doing this for your husband.” Jin says to you, your hand wrapped firmly around his erect cock. His plump lips offer you a smile - that looks more like a smudged smirk - but all he wants to do is make you more comfortable. 

Your lips wrap around Jin’s tip, tongue swirling as if it was a lollipop. There’s pre-cum on it, your tastebuds swallowing the salty substance. 

‘You’re doing this for your husband’ Jin’s words ring through your ears as you do, your hands pumping the shaft of his cock. You couldn’t be so sure you were doing this for him anymore - as selfish as it sounds.

 Losing everything in a blink of an eye has you constantly fearing going through it once more and the selfish side of you was enjoying the attention you weren’t getting from your husband, but from his brother. You were enjoying the expensive gifts that he’d give and the random money he would wire into your account - even if it did eat away at you to accept them.

You continued to suck harder, taking Jin deeper into your mouth. He winces, his hands clenching slightly. Licking his lips, Jin tilts his head at you. “There’s my Y/N.” he moans, hooded eyes watching how purely whorish you appeared taking him fully. “There’s my girl coming out.”

His Y/N - Jin told you time and time again that a part of you - the side that accepted the affair - would come out. This was the side that would moan freely, would hug him closer and the side that would beg for more. This was his Y/N - the Y/N that was determined to make him cum by any means necessary; that would fuck him like her life depended on it (and of course it did).

Your eyes glance up at him and for a moment Jin is stuck. His cheeks flush at you - and it wasn’t something he needed you noticing; he had to have the ultimate control at all times.

The solution? Forcing your head down, taking him even deeper. Your nose hits the cleanly groom patch of hair on his pelvis, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag - but it only edges on Jin further. 

“Don’t do it for your husband, Y/N. Do it for yourself.” Jin says, his head firmly on the back of your head to keep you in place. “Maybe that would make you act a little better.”

Your tongue lays flat as you suck, your head managing to lean back so only the tip is in your mouth, and quickly before Jin could react, you take him back into your throat, sucking with all your might.

Jin hisses, his toes curling inside his dress shoes. The noises that echo off of his room are filthy - his moans mixed with your slurping and gagging.

“How selfish my Y/N truly is. You like having a cock in your throat as long as the cock is providing for you, huh?” Jin squeezes his hand into your hair to keep you firmly in place, panting at just how good you were taking him. “I guess I’ll have to spoil you after this, huh? Not like your husband could.”

Your eyes begin to water, but you refuse to stop your sucking. Jin’s hips are moving a bit, and he’s cursing low to himself. He wants to tear his eyes away from you - but he’s mesmerized. There’s drool running down your chin and your eyes are watery and to him you look absolutely beautiful -  how could he not want to wire you thousands of dollars after this?

You pop off of Jin’s cock with a loud ‘pop’ing sound, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Your hands immediately wrap around his length to jerk him vigorously, your tongue twirling on the tip for him to cum.

“Oh, fuck.” Jin groans, right as your eyes and his connect. You were jerking his cock with need - as if you were the one that was cumming. He begins to whimper, his thighs trembling. The familiar bubbling in his abdomen is returning - like it did time and time again when he was with you. “So good for me, baby.”

Jin’s praises shouldn’t be getting to you, but they do. They always do. He could be demanding while you and he were intimate, as well as degrading. However, there were times in which he did speak to you nicely; complimenting you at how good you were to and for him. He’d often call you beautiful and assured that you would always be taken care of regardless of the situation you were in - in the end of it all, you took it as nothing but pillow talk. 

However, you were now in the moment just as Seokjin was and you were determined to make the man cum. You bring the tip of his cock back into your mouth and you continue to suck, your palm jerking him to cum. Doing this, Jin begins to pant, his speech cut off. His head hangs back and his eyes are rolling with pleasure - such a beautiful sight, you think. Even when convulsing in pleasure did Kim Seokjin look beautiful.

Jin groans -  a groan that comes from deep in his throat. He wants to praise you and tell you just how good you’re doing; but maybe that was the side of him that likes you. That, of course, he can’t. He’s unable to form any words and all he can focus on is the pleasure that runs through his body entirely. It was as if his brain was shutting down and fuck did it feel amazing.

Jin’s thighs are quivering and he’s cumming, his breathing coming out in hushed stutters. He cums so much, thick white robes painting the inside of your mouth. It’s so much that it surprises you that it begins to seep out of your mouth, but you assure yourself to swallow as much as you could.

You release Jin’s cock and heave, the air hitting your throat refreshing. You’re sure you looked a mess; tear stained cheeks, blurry and red eyes and drool (and cum) mixed on your lips. But you don’t dwell on the fact - it wasn’t anything Seokjin wasn’t accustomed to seeing already.

It takes a few moments for Jin to compose himself. His eyes are closed and his thighs gently tremble until they stop completely. His mind is flooding with just what he has gotten himself into with you - an act he does each time you manage to make him cum.

“Sir?”

Jin snaps his eyes open and looks at you. You’re on your knees - where you belonged - and looked at him with a tilted head.

Jin leans forward, licking his plump lips. “You’re so obedient.” he murmurs to you, the Jin you knew coming back like a full circle. “The collar suits you.”

You yelp when Jin snatches said collar and yanks it harshly. His lips meet yours in a rushed kiss - an action he’s never done. You and Seokjin don’t kiss; it’s an act far too intimate for two people having an affair. He never initiated it before, and neither have you. Yet, kissing Jin felt right and there's electricity running through your veins. His lips are warm and soft to the touch and though you never initiated a kiss with the man before, you don’t find yourself pushing away from it.

Jin is amused (and satisfied) when you softly protest when he pushes you away from him. “You look like a kick puppy, Y/N. When was the last time you kissed your husband?”

Jin snickers when you glance away - you did because even you didn’t know. Jin kept his hours long (intentionally, now you know) and there was never any time for you and him to ever be alone. And even though you loved your husband for wanting to be better and get out of the financial bind he put the two of you in, there's a sinister side to you that still despises him for putting you in that situation to begin with.

“Come.”

Jin yanks at your collar and has you standing to your feet along with him. He pushes you towards his bed and you fall back with a low yelp. 

“Open your legs.” Jin demands and instantly, you comply. “Good girl.” he murmurs.

Between your legs was Jin’s favorite place to be - being inside you or his tongue buried in your pussy. Your pussy is always wet for him; warm and inviting. You gave it up to him so willingly and each time he took it with gratitude. 

Jin couldn’t get enough of you - and it had to be a deeper reason. You weren’t his woman to have, but he took you selfishly. He buries his tongue deep against your clit, not taking another second away. He laps against your pussy eagerly, eyes glancing up to see your shocked (yet satisfied) face - brows knitted and mouth agape as a moan draws out.

Jin’s hands place themselves on your outer thigh, allowing you to slightly cage him in between them - because that could never stop him from having his taste of you. He has no choice but to bury his face deeper into your pussy, suckling even harder against your swollen clit.

“F-Feels so good, sir.” you wail and Jin knows this. His eyes never leave your face as his tongue continues to lap. “G-Gonna cum already.”

Jin snickers - you were always so quick to cum when he had you like this. Like the perfect little whore you were, he thinks. He knows his brother could never please you the same way he does - you always walked around so uptight and shy. Your legs clenched together for whatever friction because his brother was far too busy to pleasure you.

 Now, you had that glow to you. Jin assured that you’d cum each and every time you and him were together - just like now.

Jin slams your legs open, pinning them against your shoulder. The position is as lewd as his actions, but that doesn’t stop him. He devours your pussy entirely, tongue ravishing your clit so loudly that his suckling is dancing off of the walls.

“S-Sir, slow down-”

Jin didn’t want to hear anything you were about to say. You didn’t tell him what to do - he was Kim Seokjin. If he wanted to lick your clit until you were squirting against him he would - because he was Kim Seokjin. 

Jin’s hands hold your thighs apart even tighter to assure you have no way to escape him, his tongue sliding against your clit entirely and entering in and out of you. Your eyes snap shut, squeezing so tightly. You were being swallowed up by the black hole of pleasure. There’s whimpering coming from you as well as the familiar moisture at the corner of your eyes. 

Jin shoves you away hastily. “I’m going to fuck a baby into you, Y/N.” Jin says suddenly - an act that is just as shocking as him kissing you.

You don’t get time to protest before Jin is flipping you onto your stomach and forcing your ass into the air. He’s behind you, positioning himself at your entrance.

Jin enters you without hesitation, needing no time to prep you because of how wet you are. He starts off rough, cock so deep that it brings back the familiar black hole of pleasure. 

Jin is brutal as he fucks you - but he was a man on a mission. He’s clouded by his own lust and selfish desire that he doesn’t hold back any of his own thoughts. 

“You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Jin asks harshly, pulling both of your hands behind your back to hoist you up. “For me to fuck a baby into you?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” you wail, far too gone in pleasure that you don’t completely take in what Jin is saying. 

“You’re so drunk off of dick that you’ll say anything. There’s my Y/N.” Jin cracks his hips deeper and deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. Your juices are leaking down your thigh and staining his bedsheets, but he would never care. “I’m going to get you pregnant and watch my pathetic brother raise the child as his.” he laughs gleefully, his plan completely insane. 

You’re pushed away from Jin and you fall completely against the mattress. Jin hikes a leg up so he can go deeper into you.

“But don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll make sure our child has the best of the best.” Jin groans, eyes focused on the way your ass bounces against him. “And when they’re of age, I’ll tell them the truth. That the pathetic father they thought they had was not really their father.” Jin leans down, both hands firmly against the mattress for support. “And they’ll inherit millions from me. It’s better than having nothing like my pathetic brother.”

“Feels so good!” you moan into the mattress and all Jin could do is laugh - because you were far too gone to notice anything he was saying; and just how real his plans for you are.

“Yeah?” Jin manages to flip you again and now on your back, he allows you to wrap your legs around him. “So good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little whore.”

Jin connects his lips to yours again and instantly, you wrap your arms around him. You were determined not to let him go this time - and he allowed it. Kissing you felt right; even when it was wrong. Not only because you weren’t his woman (because he was well aware of such and didn’t give a fuck) but because it was a sign of affection.

“Want you to fuck me all night.” you plead against his lips, holding him so close that you coild feel his own heartbeat. 

So dick drink, Jin thinks, but he doesn’t respond. He’s unable to, far too focused on giving you exactly what you want. 

Jin ponders how his brother wasn’t fighting him to have more time off of work. Your pussy is amazing - carved from the Gods. You’re gripping him so tight with a pussy that’s so wet that if he was in his brothers position, he wouldn’t be at work now - no, he’d be fucking you into the mattress.

But Jin wasn’t your husband and he was doing exactly what he should be doing to you.

“Squeezing me so tight, Y/N. Gonna cum already?” Jin taunts, but even he was ready to cum inside of you.

 The thought of getting you pregnant is stuck deep in Jin’s mind; watching you grow heavy and round with his seed. He would have a deep bond with the child, assuring that he would be loved far more than his brother would be with the child. He would be impressed with how large your breast would be as you grew with his child and how beautiful you’d look pregnant.

“Shit,” Jin’s forehead presses against yours. He plunges his cock inside of you with need now - the need to impregnate immediately - and to do this as many times as it takes for you to conceive.

Warmth floods deep inside of you just as you’re reaching your high. You squeeze Jin, hugging him closer to your exhausted and convulsing body and never wanting to let the man go.

You and Jin fucked for hours in various positions you’ve never been in. You had awoken suddenly, body exhausted in a bedroom that didn’t belong to you. Jin wasn’t there, you noticed, and that was your cue to take your leave.

Doing the walk of shame back to your bedroom was something you’d have to look yourself in the mirror about later. Your body was aching and all you truly wanted to do was have a soothing bath and then go right back to sleep.

You opened the door to your bedroom and stopped in your tracks. Your eyes scanned the room entirely.

Balloons littered the ceiling entirely - all red, white and pink. Your bed - king-sized that sat in the middle of the room, sat rose petals shaped neatly into a large heart. In the middle of it sat a small envelope, but that was the least of your concerns. 

Flower bouquets are surrounding your bed - all roses of different colors - and there’s dozens of gift bags waiting to be opened.

You enter your bedroom and close your door behind you. You ponder did your husband do all of this for you - and if he did, just how did he manage to do so without wondering where you were at the entire time?

Your heart sinks at the thought of your husband doing this for you and you were cheating on him with his brother.

You grasp the small envelope on your bed and open it. It’s a card - something simple written inside of it but it causes your heart to swell with realization.

My Y/N.

Happy Valentine’s Day

-Seokjin

#payment plan #yandere bts #bts smut #btswritingcafe #brothers girlfriend #trivia-yandere #trivia:yandere #bts writing #btswritersclub #btswriterscollective #bangtanwriters net #Seokjin yandere #jin yandere #jin smut #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #bts affair au

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girl found dead in a hidden room.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #lan xichen #jin guangyao #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #qin su #EDIT: Tumblr published an earlier draft with only half the notes I wrote so: late entry on my JGY thoughts. #Unlike the mystic powers of the stockmarket (what the OG meme is referring to) I think this situation calls for more active investigation. #qin su is such a deeply tragic character to me and I really wish we got a bit more from her. #Love everyone who sent me messages about her after the last time she appeared. #I think she needs a spin off of her being a transmigrator SO badly. #MDZS has so many interesting characters - but it sometimes fails to give them the proper room to really develop past a role in the plot. #That's just the consequence of writing a story like MDZS. Not every character in a book *needs* to have a rich inner life and backstory! #To do so would bog down the story and obliterate any notion of pacing. It's just not possible. #Jin Guangyao (nee Meng Yao) is unfortunately not free from this leeway rule. He is the culprit of this murder mystery plot #and thus NEEDS to encapsulate the themes of the book. And personally he's a 7 out of 10 at best on this front (in the AD). #MDZS is about rumours twisting reality and working towards truth. And about how people & situations are rarely ever black & white #JGY has his motivations. He's well written in regards to his actions making sense for his character. #What started as good traits (drive to succeed & improve his image) became twisted over time (do anything to maintain his image) #and it's a good parallel to WWX! He has the same arc (with different traits)! Bonus points for IGY in that regard. #but man....by the time we confront this guy for murder there's not a lot of grey morality. He's just...deep in the hole *he* dug. #There's a beautiful tragedy to it! More on JGY in later comics - this is getting pretty long already!

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn’t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 

They lied. 

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 

The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

#this chapter has very little Namjoon (although I feel he makes an impact) but that’s okay the next chapter is Namjoon centric #bts au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts ot7 x reader #bts yandere!au #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts imagines #bts writing #bts mafia!au #bts mafia series #bts mafia au #namjoon mafia au #yandere namjoon #yandere seokjin #jin x you #yandere yoongi #yoongi au #yandere hoseok #hoseok mafia au #hobi au #jimin x you #yandere jimin #taehyung x reader #yandere taehyung #jungkook x reader #jungkook mafia #yandere jungkook

[sluttywoozi]

Rating: M | WC: ~8.2k (mostly smut)

Geonwoo's your best friend and there's nothing you wouldn't do for him. Including doing him.

Warnings: i say geonwoo’s not into guys but it’s just for the purposes of this fic he can do whatever/whoever he wants, virgin!geonwoo, lots of consent checks, mention of sti testing and pregnancy prevention, marking, pussydrunk!geonwoo, bigdick!geonwoo, fingering, oral f rec., multiple orgasms, condomless sex, creampie, lost the plot ten pages into the smut so sorry

Reader Notes: has a vagina and breasts, smaller than geonwoo (height and hands)

“You want me to do what?” You question, alarm bells ringing in your head.

“We want you to take Geonwoo’s virginity,” Woojin replies cheerfully, rubbing his knees and punctuating his sentence with a smile.

“Geonwoo, is this true?” You speak slowly, dragging your eyes from Woojin’s to Geonwoo’s.

“Mm,” he nods quickly, his lips pressed together and his hands wringing in his lap.

“Okay… Why me? And why now?”

Woojin opens his mouth but you shoot him a glare to cut him off, needing to hear it from Geonwoo himself. You raise your eyebrows when he doesn’t speak and he takes a quick breath, holding it like he’s steeling himself.

“Well, uh,” he looks around, avoiding your gaze, “I trust you the most, besides Woojin. And I’m not into guys, I think, so it can’t be him.”

“And as for why now, he-,”

“Woojin, let him-,”

Geonwoo steps in before you and Woojin can get into it, used to the way you bicker after all these months with the two of you.

“I’m turning 26 soon. I’m not embarrassed about still being a virgin but I don’t want it to become a thing, you know?”

You nod, unable to find a flaw in his logic.

“And this is a group discussion because…”

“Well, Geonwoo couldn’t ask you by himself, could he?”

“Couldn’t he?” You respond, a doubtful quirk to your brow.

Geonwoo purses his lips and shakes his head, “I really couldn’t. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for weeks now.”

Woojin nods in confirmation next to him, his eyes serious and his mouth shut, for once.

There’s a lot for you to consider before you can give them, him, your answer. You’ve been friends with Geonwoo for a long time now, and you’re not sure you’re willing to risk complicating the relationship you have with sex. There’s also the responsibility that comes with being someone’s first, the desire to make it good for them, to take care of them.

“Do I have to decide now?”

They both rush to shake their heads, a long stream of, “No, no, no,” leaving Woojin.

“Take as much time as you need,” Geonwoo adds with wide eyes and a small, sweet smile.

You’re honestly not sure why it wasn’t an immediate no, and you have some things to think about now that you know at least some part of you wants to do it.

You stand, wanting to excuse yourself from this bizarre situation so you can do some reflecting. They both rise when you do, staying on their feet until you leave the room. You can feel Geonwoo’s eyes on you as you walk away, and you can’t say it’s a feeling you dislike.

It’s official, you’re going insane.

Ever since Woojin and Geonwoo planted the idea of you taking Geonwoo’s virginity in your mind, it’s all you can think about.

He’s the first thing on your mind when you wake and the last thing before you fall asleep, and even in your dreams, you’re still thinking about him.

Him and his big brown eyes and his undercut and his bulging muscles and his soft, sweet, reserved demeanor.

Him and how he would act in the bedroom, how he would touch you, how he would talk (if he would, and that’s a big if).

You’ve seen him let loose before, seen him fight for both his life and yours, but you’ve never seen him like this. You’re starting to fear that’s something you’ll have to fix.

“See you tomorrow, mom,” Geonwoo calls out the door, watching his mother walk down the hallway to her own apartment and get safely inside. He used to escort her to and from her door until she showed him the taser Mr. Oh got her. He backed off then, but still likes to make sure she gets in safe.

Returning to the dirty dishes in the kitchen, he stands at the sink, elbow deep in hot, soapy water and trying not to think about what he asked you last week.

Well, what he and Woojin asked you.

You’ve been his friend for years now. He first met you when you started working at his mom’s cafe, he grew closer to you when you moved into the spare bedroom, and now he’s terrified that he’s ruined everything.

You’re still normal enough around him, maybe zoning out a little more often and maybe a tiny bit short-tempered, but fine otherwise. It could be an act though, a facade you put up while you decide how to tell him no and also that you’re quitting the cafe and leaving town and never coming back. That would break his heart, and his mom’s too, and he prays he’s just overthinking.

His hands sweep around to search for more dishes but find nothing, so with a sigh, he lets the sink drain. Now he’ll have to find something else to keep his mind occupied, not that it was working very well. He could go train, but he’s already worked out today and he has a feeling he’ll be experiencing the wrath of Mr. Oh if he pushes himself any further. He’d like to avoid that, so-

“Geonwoo? Can we talk?”

Oh god.

He keeps his back turned, one of the only signs of disrespect he’s ever shown you, but he can’t stand to see the apologetic look on your face as you tell him no (and that you’re leaving forever, never to be seen or heard from again, all because of him).

“Look at me, please.”

He glances at you over his shoulder, long enough to see your open expression and the kindness in your eyes. You don’t seem as weighed down as you have lately, and he fully turns to face you, trying to hide how nervous he feels.

Folding his hands behind his back so he can drum his fingers on the counter unseen, he waits for you to speak.

“I was just thinking about what you asked me, I mean, I’ve been thinking about it all week but,” you shake your head like you need to clear it before continuing, “I’ll do it.”

Your last three words don’t register, and the meaning of them doesn’t either. He’s stuck on you saying you’ve been thinking about it, this, all week. He’s been thinking about it too, thinking about you, and it makes him feel a lot better to know you’ve been doing the same.

“Did you hear me?” You ask, confused at his lack of reaction.

“I heard you, you said you’ve been thinking about it. That’s good,” he assures you, his hands stilling as he leans against the counter.

“Geonwoo, I also said that I would do it.”

“Do what?” He asks, wondering if he can go with you to do whatever it is.

“Do it. You. Take your virginity.”

His heart thuds, squeezes, then stops.

“You will?”

He’s glad he was braced against something because his knees feel weak and his head is spinning. He’s been trying not to think about you in that way since before he asked you to do this, and now that you’ve agreed, he just knows his thoughts will be running rampant.

“Yes, I will. But we’ve gotta work out the logistics,” you remind him, rounding the island to lean against the counter next to him.

Your sudden proximity makes him straighten up before the scent of you soothes him, the familiar blend bringing him comfort like it always does.

“Logistics like… when?”

“That and whether or not we’re using a condom and we should probably get tested first and-,” you stop yourself before taking your phone from your pocket and typing rapidly, “I need to write this down.”

There’s so much more to consider than Geonwoo thought, but he won’t let it deter him. The two of you have always made a good team, and this won’t be any different, he’s sure.

Geonwoo and you spend the next few days planning. His birthday is next month and you decide together to set it as an informal deadline, though he’s sure it won’t be the end of the world if he loses his virginity at 26 instead of 25.

He’s telling Woojin about the details you’ve decided on when Woojin cuts him off.

“Bro, where’s the romance? Where’s the passion?” He says, slapping a hand on the table to emphasize his words. “This is all so… technical. This is why you shouldn’t be doing this without me.”

“Without you? You won’t be there, will you?”

“Tch, no, you know what I mean,” he grumbles before launching into the story of his own first time.

Geonwoo contemplates the rest of Woojin’s point, but honestly, things with you lately have been feeling romantic.

You’ve been sitting alone in his bedroom, close enough to whisper so that nobody else hears you, and talking about how exactly you’ll have sex with each other. He knows that doesn’t sound too romantic, but to him, it is.

Geonwoo loves planning, and he loves alone time, and he loves how you sound when you speak all low and secretive and logical. He doesn’t love talking, but luckily for him, you do the majority of it and the most he has to do is listen and respond, and he likes doing that too.

As for passion, he’s been feeling… plenty… of that. Too much, probably.

When you’re around, you’re all he can focus on. Anyone else can be in the room and he’ll be looking at you, talking to you, listening to you. Except for Woojin and his mom, of course, but even then, he’s got you in the back of his mind.

When you’re gone, he can’t stop thinking about you; where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with. If you’re with a guy. A guy who’s better with words than he is, a guy who’s experienced, a guy who hasn’t put you through so much.

A guy who isn’t him.

But then Geonwoo reminds himself that you love him (platonically) and find him attractive enough (physically) to have sex with him, and he feels better.

“Dude, are you even listening to me right now? What did I just say? Hm?” Woojin questions, offense clear in his tone and his furrowed eyebrows.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t,” he ducks as Woojin takes a fake swipe at him. To be fair, he’s heard this story before, and he has something important to think about: you.

(He makes it up to Woojin later with all you can eat pork belly buffet).

Today’s the day.

Well, tonight’s the night.

You went over to Geonwoo and Woojin’s place around 6 PM dressed in your largest t-shirt and your comfiest yoga pants with an overnight bag in hand. Woojin is sleeping at Mr. Moon’s so you have the place to yourselves, and you both got tested three days ago with negative results. You discussed using condoms, but considering that you have protection in place and it’s Geonwoo’s first time, you’ve decided to skip them. Geonwoo already had everything prepared: another set of sheets at the ready, multiple options for movies to watch, and an order for an enormous amount of takeout.

You’re waiting on it now, sitting next to him on the couch and feeling a slight sense of awkwardness in the air. He’s being particularly shy, speaking only when asked a question but listening with wide, fascinated eyes, and you have to admit, it’s doing it for you.

You worried that you would feel some sort of hang up about being Geonwoo’s first, but when all the history is taken away, you’re two consenting adults that apparently want to have sex. So why shouldn’t you?

The doorbell rings before you can remind yourself of said history, and Geonwoo immediately shoots to his feet to answer it. He thanks (and tips) the delivery person quickly and returns with the food, carefully ripping the bag open to spread everything out on the coffee table.

The two of you make fast work of the takeout, bar the containers you decided to save for later, and clean up the mess left behind. Dinner breaks the ice, allowing you and Geonwoo to talk as friends/people who might become more.

As the night progresses, you watch his nerves grow again. It’s after he’s wiped his hands on his  joggers for the fifth time that you pause the movie and turn on the couch to face him. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights and you wish you could placate him, but you think it may be better to just rip off the bandaid.

“Do you still wanna do this?” You ask gently, bringing a hand to his shoulder and squeezing. You’re about to mindlessly squeeze again, his muscles feeling firm but squishy somehow under your fingers, when he nearly shouts, “Yes!” and shrinks, making you assume his volume was unintended. You love his enthusiasm though, and the fact that you know you can ask him what he wants and he’ll tell you. Or at least answer yes or no questions.

“Do you want to go to your bedroom now, then? I feel like you’re just getting more nervous the longer we wait.”

He nods in response and springs to his feet, holding a hand out to help you from the couch and tug you to his room. It’s always tidy in there but you can see he’s made an extra effort in the candles dotted around the room and the oil diffuser sitting on his dresser. He leads you to his bed, letting you sit first before settling closer to you than he typically would. His hands stay clasped together in his lap, and it occurs to you that you may need to tell him what to do.

You usually aren’t one to be in charge when it comes to sex, but you’ll do anything for Geonwoo and this obviously counts as anything. You can call the shots tonight if that’s what he needs, and hopefully you’ll help him build up some confidence for whoever he’s with next. You can also pretend your heart doesn’t flip in your chest whenever you think of there being a next.

Geonwoo shifts next to you on the bed, his hands resting on his thighs and his form tense. You have to figure out how to unwind him, how to make him feel safe with you, and you feel like the first barrier to cross is his reticence with touching you. He’s always kept himself at arms’ length, enough so that when you saw how he and Woojin behaved, you honestly felt kind of jealous. He’s never had that ease with you, and you used to live with him.

At least you have the opportunity to change that now. Your hand only shakes a little bit as you reach out to cover Geonwoo’s. He jumps when you come into contact with him, but quickly opens his hands to accept yours. You can’t help but note how long and calloused his fingers are, your mind running to how they would feel on you and, dare you say it, in you.

“We can go slow,” you promise, “And I can guide you, if you want.”

“Yes, I think that would be good,” Geonwoo agrees with a squeeze of your hand. “Eventually, I would like to try to… I don’t know how to say it, be in charge?”

“We can do that,” you nod, heat flooding your stomach at the thought of Geonwoo taking the reins, holding you down, fucking you how he wants. You know there may be some fumbling before you get there, but by God you hope you do. “Why don’t we start with a kiss?”

Geonwoo hums and leans forward almost imperceptibly, just enough for you to crane your neck and press your lips to his. You keep it gentle, slow, getting him used to you with little pecks and small sucks. He finds your rhythm faster than you expect, timidly kissing you back and bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

You try to push down the giddy shiver that rises at him touching you so delicately, but a little shake still makes its way through your shoulders. Geonwoo notices, of course, exhaling a laugh against your lips that sparks a smile in return, and soon enough, you’re both grinning too wide to kiss anymore.

“This is kinda fun,” you breathe, pulling back to brush some errant hair out of his eyes.

“It is,” he agrees, smiling shyly and grazing your cheekbone with his thumb. “Should we keep going?”

You nod and lean in again, locking your lips with his and swallowing a sigh at the plushness of them. Gently, you swipe your tongue over his bottom lip, waiting for his mouth to open before just barely gliding it against his in a tentative motion. He gasps, his lips parting further and his tongue tangling with yours as his hand shifts to cradle your jaw. His fingers wrap around the back of your neck and tilt your head back to give him the angle he wants, and you’re not sure he’s aware that he’s doing it but it’s still so hot that you let a weak little sound escape into his mouth.

Geonwoo presses his lips harder against yours, shifting closer on the bed until your knees touch and his warmth radiates into you. It’s the closest he’s been to you in a while, beyond the occasional hug and pat on the back, and already his proximity is making you dizzy. The lightheadedness could also have something to do with his scent, soft and clean but handsome and manly too, just like Geonwoo himself.

You didn’t think kissing alone would have this effect on you, or that you’d want to do more than kissing so soon, but here you are, sitting next to him on his bed and struggling not to climb right into his lap. His thighs are just so thick and strong and welcoming, and you’d fit so well together, but you’ve only just started and it’s probably best to keep things slow. Which means not straddling him and kissing him breathless without warning.

But you can do that with a warning, though, right?

“Geonwoo, can I sit in your lap?”

He gasps out a yes and takes your hand with his free one, helping you climb atop him and get settled. You’re not pressed too snugly against him yet, but you can already feel the heat stirring between your bodies. You’re starting to get wet, your core pulsing in time with your heart, and when you shuffle a bit closer, something bumps against your thigh.

Geonwoo moans softly into your mouth, shifting both hands to your hips and squeezing, like he wants to pull you into him but he’s not sure if he can. You inch further into his lap and his grip tightens, his chest brushing against yours with every breath.

You can feel Geonwoo getting bolder, more confident, as he starts to take control of the kiss. He slides his tongue into your mouth, humming when you suck on it and smiling when you rest a hand on his shoulder.

You’ve definitely been looking forward to getting your hands on him, and it’s even better than you imagined. He’s so dense and big, with power wrapped up in every muscle. You’ve never gotten to touch anyone like him before, or be with anyone like him before, and it’s honestly exhilarating.

His shoulder is firm beneath your fingers, the warmth seeping through his t-shirt reminding you that you’re both fully clothed. Geonwoo seems more comfortable with touching you, so now could be a good time to lose some layers.

“Should we take these off?” You break the kiss to ask, giggling at his resulting pout and tugging at the edge of his shirt.

He responds by hauling the shirt off himself and letting it drop to the floor before slipping his hands beneath the fabric of yours. His palms are warm on your stomach, points of connection that sear your nerve endings and send your heart thumping, and as he drags them up, your shirt goes with them.

He stops just below your breasts, his thumbs skimming the underwire of your bra and his fingers spread over your rib cage, before looking up at you with a question in his eyes. You raise your arms in response, easing the way of the shirt and showing Geonwoo that you’re comfortable. When the fabric clears your head, you catch sight of the expression on Geonwoo’s face and sigh happily. He looks awed, enraptured, reverent, and you haven’t even taken your bra off yet.

You reach behind your back to find the clasp but Geonwoo stops you with a gentle hand, “Can I try?”

He fumbles for a bit but figures it out eventually, beaming at you when the clasp comes apart and your bra goes limp. You can’t help but smile back, squeezing his hands where he lets them rest on your thighs. The undergarment dangles from your shoulders and Geonwoo’s eyes grow wide at the idea of seeing you bare, but he doesn’t make a move to take it off. He must not be sure if he’s allowed to, so you let it slip a couple of inches, watching as he stares with bated breath.

Being able to captivate him like this is a heady feeling, but you won’t take advantage of it this time, won’t make him wait. The bra slides down your arms and to the bed, and Geonwoo stops breathing. You sit primly on his lap with your legs straddled over his spread thighs, trying to keep your heart steady as you let him look his fill.

When he still hasn’t moved, you take hold of his hands and bring them to your stomach, telling him, “You can touch me, Geonwoo.”

He sucks in a deep breath, his trembling hands slowly rising to cover your breasts. They’re so warm and big on you, calloused from lifting and strong from fighting. They’re perfect, and you let your head tip back as his palms brush over your nipples.

You almost jump when he leans forward to kiss your neck, shocked but pleased by his initiative. He’s gentle, just pressing his lips to your skin and softly sucking in a path leading to your collarbone.

His teeth dig in a little and you do startle in his lap, making him pull away to check on you.

“Was that okay?” he asks nervously, scared that he’s overstepped.

“Yes! Yes, I didn’t expect you to do that, but I liked it.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and returns his mouth to your collarbone, nipping at your delicate skin and pulling away to look at the indent he’d left.

He shares a secretive smile with you, his eyes giddy like he’s doing something he knows he’s not supposed to.

“Can I leave some marks? I like how they look on you.”

“You can leave however many you want as long as my clothes cover them.”

He nods resolutely, smoothing his thumb over the bruise he’d left on your collarbone and bending further to kiss across the tops of your breasts.

You arch your back to give him more room to work, inadvertently shifting over the hardness in his joggers and making him groan around the flesh bitten between his teeth.

He pulls away with a pop, his eyes wide and dark and his thighs tense under you.

“Should I keep doing that?” you ask him, your voice embarrassingly breathy and your hips itching to move.

“Please,” he says, one of his hands dropping to grasp your hip and pull you over him again. “Feels good.”

You can’t hold back the smile, pleased that he’s being open and losing some of the propriety he always maintains with you. He smiles back before leaning down and pressing a trail of kisses down to your pebbled nipple.

He tentatively sucks it into his warm, wet mouth, making you gasp and grind on him, your hips inching over until you can sit yourself right on his stiffening dick.

He feels big, because of course he would be, and you can feel yourself get wetter at the thought of seeing him, touching him, feeling him.

You’ll let him explore first though, let him get acquainted with your body and what it’s like to give someone else pleasure. It was something you had to learn too, and you’re glad you get to be the one to teach him.

He’s a quick study, you find. Lightly nipping at your left nipple with his teeth and rolling the right with his fingertips, cupping the weight of your breast with one hand and grinding you over his bulge with the other.

It already feels so good, and with the pressure and friction on your core, it’s almost too good. But you won’t stop him, not when he seems to be finding his stride, and definitely not when he’s so hard that you can feel the shape of him, feel just how long and thick he is. You’ll have to show him how to stretch you out, how to help you take him, and you honestly can’t wait.

“Woo, do you-,” you gasp, feeling a groan vibrate into your skin as soon as his nickname leaves your lips. You don’t use it often, only when you’re particularly tired or happy, and apparently, when you’re about to beg him to touch you.

He pulls away with a hum and licks his lips before asking, “Do I what?”

“Do you want to go further? I can feel how big you are, you’ll need to get me ready first.”

“Will you show me how?” He asks, as if you could ever leave him in the dark like that.

“Of course I will,” you assure him, cupping his scarred cheek in your hand and bringing him into a soft kiss. You break away before you can get too distracted and attempt to get off of his lap without revealing how shaky your knees are. They’re difficult to hide and you have to brace your hands on his shoulders, but you manage to get your feet on the floor somehow and dip your fingers into the waistband of your yoga pants.

He stops you before you can push them down and you can tell he’s about to ask if he can remove them himself, so you slip your hands out of his grasp and place them on his shoulders for stability again.

He flashes a quick smile at you, tucking his fingers into the elastic and pulling the stretchy fabric down. You feel it as soon as you step out of your bottoms, how wet you are. It’s soaked through your panties, and you’re not sure whether or not you want Geonwoo to notice.

Thankfully, he doesn’t. His thumbs hook in the sides of your underwear, his eyebrows raising in a question that you answer with a nod. He tugs them down your legs slowly, his gaze staying locked with yours until they hit the floor.

His eyes go heavy lidded as he looks at you, his kiss-swollen lips parting on a sigh and his warm hands settling on your hips. You feel kind of exposed but you don’t want to interrupt him as he seems to be growing more sure of himself.

You do want him to be as naked as you are though, so you squeeze his hands and say, “Your turn?”

He nods, rising to his feet and standing nearly flush with you. His warmth radiates out, his toned chest brushing against your breasts with each breath. You bring your hands to his waistband, tucking your fingers in between his joggers and his underwear.

“You can take it all off,” he offers, his voice deeper than you’re used to but no less gentle.

“If that’s what you want.” You take hold of his boxers and pants and begin to push them down, the backs of your fingers dragging along his skin until they’re low enough to fall on their own. He steps out of them and further into you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist when you set your hands on his toned stomach.

The air between you is warm and thick with tension as your palms slide up his chest to wrap around his neck and pull him down into a kiss. He hums against your lips, turning in a slow circle so your back is to the bed and gently pushing you onto it.

You sit heavily, bouncing in place and watching as he kneels before you. Your legs stay clasped together, shyness keeping them closed, and he sets his hands on them with a soft squeeze.

“Show me?”

“Geonwoo, your knees will-“

“My knees will be fine. Show me? Please?”

You slowly spread your legs apart, leaning back on your hands to stabilize yourself as you let him see you bare for the first time.

He breathes in a ragged gasp, exhaling, “You’re so… wet.”

“That’s a good thing,” you assure him, operating under the assumption that he doesn’t know much about sex.

“Oh,” he sighs, relieved and smiling as his hands slide up your thighs.

When his thick, calloused fingers come into contact with your core, you have to fight back a shiver. It’s been a while for you, and even Geonwoo’s timid touches are more than you’re used to. His digits glide through your folds, catching on your clit and making you gasp, “There, Geonwoo.”

He listens to you attentively, tucking half his fingers away so he can rub with two fingertips, his eyes darting back and forth between your center and your face. He starts with an up-down motion, furrowing his brows and spreading your folds open with his other hand so he can see better. You feel a bit bashful but you want him to explore, want him to feel comfortable with you and with how to pleasure you, so you take a deep breath and widen your legs further.

He presses a kiss to your inner thigh in thanks and shuffles closer, fascination and focus clear in his expression as he gets to know you in this way. He’s methodical, experimenting with different motions and keeping his eyes on your face the whole time to gauge what you like best. When he lands on little circles that make your back arch and your eyelids flutter, he stops testing shapes to concentrate on finding the pace you prefer, starting slow and gradually speeding up until you tell him, “Like that! Like that, Geonwoo.”

He shifts forward out of excitement, his face close enough to you that you can feel his breaths, feel his hair brushing your inner thighs, feel the warmth radiating off of him. You love his enthusiasm, his dedication to learning you and making you feel good, and you shouldn’t have expected any less. Geonwoo gives his all to everything he does, of course that would include you.

“I’m definitely wet enough now, you can, um, put a finger in. Palm up,” You instruct shakily, watching as he removes the hand spreading you open and brings it back with his palm up, just like you said. He dips the tip of his finger into your entrance, a trembling sigh leaving him when he feels you for the first time.

“How are you so hot and soft and wet inside? You feel perfect,” He nearly moans, letting his finger slide in all the way. It’s longer, thicker than yours, and the little bit of stretch it gives you is delicious.

“Move it in and out, and you can kind of curl up and try to find-”

You yelp as Geonwoo’s fingertip prods your g-spot immediately, his finger the perfect length to reach it. He gasps and looks at you, fearful of your reaction before you assure him, “That was good! That’s where you want to aim, okay? And you can add another.”

“Okay!” He nods, beaming, and returns his attention to between your legs. He pulls his finger out and returns with two, his mouth open and his eyes half-lidded as he watches them sink inside you. Seemingly mesmerized, Geonwoo starts up a slow rhythm, his gaze locked on his fingers as they disappear in and out of you.

Once he has a good pattern down, he curls them again, the tips unerringly finding your g-spot and rubbing gently with every thrust. Your arms shake as he unknowingly starts to build you up, making you drop down to your elbows and let your head tip back.

“Does it feel good?” Geonwoo asks you breathlessly, making you tilt your chin enough to look down at him. His plush lips are parted, his eyes half-lidded but oh so curious and filled with a heat you’ve never seen in him before.

“So good, Geonwoo, you’re doing so good,” you sigh, biting back a smile as his ears turn a deep red at your words. Geonwoo loves to learn but he gets so shy when his efforts are recognized, and this is no different. You’ll have to be sure to praise him when you can, half because you want to reassure him and half because you really like how reactive he is to it.

You expected to have to make yourself cum tonight but you think Geonwoo just might get you there, every curl of his fingers pushing you closer to the edge. When he starts rubbing circles into your clit again, the heat building in your stomach takes on a searing edge.

“Put in one more,” you instruct, feeling a third finger squeeze its way inside you as soon as you finish speaking. “Spread them a bit, it’ll- it’ll help.”

His fingers push against the tightness of your walls, his breathing ragged as he carefully opens you up. The stretch is good, the feeling of his calluses on your throbbing clit even better, and as you begin the climb, you open your mouth to tell him (beg him) not to stop. But before you can say anything, Geonwoo speaks up.

“Can I use my mouth?”

Can he use his mouth? Where did this man come from? Heaven? Your dreams?

“Yes, Geonwoo, please, I’m getting close.”

He swears under his breath and leans forward, replacing the fingers on your clit with his warm, wet tongue. You lose some of your momentum as he gets used to the taste and feel of you, his tongue lapping at your folds with soft, broad strokes. It still feels good, but you need more if you’re going to cum.

Geonwoo seems to know without you telling him and wraps his plump lips around your bundle of nerves, giving you a short, cautious suck. Your thighs try to snap closed but you don’t let them, your muscles quivering as you attempt to hold your position. He notices, of course he notices, and uses his free hand to heft your leg up on his shoulder, sucking harder when you bring the other one up on your own.

His face is practically buried in your pussy now and with three of his fingers still filling you, you know you won’t last much longer. Your walls are starting to flutter and there’s a burn deep in your pelvis, a coil that only grows tighter and tighter with each purse of his lips around your clit. All he has to do is keep going and you’ll-

His fingers hook inside of you again making your hips buck against his mouth, and he lets out a groan so loud, the vibrations carry you right over the edge. Your eyes clench shut as you soar, white noise blanking out any thoughts beyond Geonwoo, Geonwoo, Geonwoo.

He doesn’t know to slow down and you don’t have the mental capacity to tell him to, his fingers rubbing your g-spot over and over again as he noisily sucks at your clit, bringing you through your orgasm and right up to another one. Your thighs shake, the icy bite of overstimulation starting to claw at you, and you let yourself fall back completely, your now free hands tangling in his cropped hair.

You could push him away, could stop him before he makes you cum again, but he’s just so good and it’s been so long and before you know it, you’re keening your way through a second release. Your thighs do snap shut this time, but he’s strong enough to break free if he needs to so you don’t worry, don’t think, don’t breathe.

All you do is feel. Feel his fingers inside you and his mouth around you and his breaths against you, feel the clenching of your core and the pulsing of your clit and the heat in your belly. You feel everything, and it’s almost too much but at the same time, it’s not enough.

You wonder if you’ll ever feel like you’ve had enough of Geonwoo, and before you can talk yourself out of your aftershocks of bliss, he slowly pulls his fingers out and slides his tongue in. You gasp brokenly at the sudden change but sigh as he wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you tight, holds you close.

“Geonwoo, don’t you want-”

He thrusts his tongue in and out, and your mouth closes with a click, your fingers shaking in his hair and your cheeks heating at the obscene sounds that escape from between you. Your head tilts back into the bed as he devours you, his tongue curling and pulling arousal from you like he wants to drink you down.

You’d let him, would let him do just about anything he wants to you at this point, you’re so boneless and brainless with pleasure. When he discovers he can push his nose into your clit while he fucks you with his tongue, you all but melt into the bed as a long, drawn out moan leaves your parted lips.

He groans in response, dimpling the flesh of your thighs under his fingertips, his grip growing tighter and tighter as you get wetter and wetter. You don’t know if you’ll be able to cum again, but if you can, you’d much rather cum on his dick than his tongue, so you assemble all the brain cells you have left and breathe, “Geonwoo, please, get up here.”

He pauses, his tongue halfway inside of you and his nose pushing against the hood of your clit. You both feel and hear his questioning noise, the confusion and reluctance clear in his hazy eyes.

“This was to get me ready and I definitely am now. Are you?” You laugh weakly, staring down at him as you card your fingers through his hair. His gaze grows heavy lidded, his tongue taking one last trip through your folds before he carefully pushes your thighs off his shoulders and rises to hover over you, bracketing your head with his forearms.

“I’m ready,” He exhales, his face shining and his big, leaking cock brushing against your thighs. You shiver at the sensation, already anticipating the stretch you’ll feel when he pushes inside for the first time.

He doesn’t seem like he needs you to tell him what to do anymore so you fall silent, watching him as he takes hold of his dick and lines it up with your entrance. You try to relax your inner muscles as he splits you open, but it’s difficult with the girth of him, his cock so wide you almost wish you’d told him to use four fingers instead of three. But you treasure the feeling, cherish the ache, and when he stops halfway in, you fear you’ll die if he doesn’t keep going.

“Why did you stop?” You gasp, his dick so big it’s like you can feel him in your throat.

“I’m trying not to cum,” he chokes out, his eyes clenched shut and his hands in fists beside your head.

Oh. Ohhhh, that’s hot.

“Take your time,” you wheeze, bringing your hands up to rub his toned back and doing your absolute best to stay still.

When Geonwoo has himself under control again, he continues to press inside of you, pushing deeper and deeper and deeper until he has nowhere left to go. Your breath catches in your lungs, the absolute fullness stealing every thought in your head.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice thin and shaky.

“I should be asking you that,” you half-moan, half-chuckle.

He huffs out a laugh, letting his forehead rest on your collarbone as you struggle to adjust to him. You know he can feel every flutter of your walls, every flex of your inner muscles, and you try to relax for him but it’s so hard when he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken.

After some deep breathing and wishful thinking, you think maybe you could stand to let him move. You’ve stretched a bit more, opened up a little, and with how wet you still are, he should be able to glide in and out.

“Geonwoo, I’m good, you can move now.”

“Are you sure?” He lifts his head to catch your eye, his restraint visible in his flexed abs and trembling arms.

“I’m sure,” you promise, bringing your hands up to rub his toned back as he pulls his hips away from yours and leaves you empty. The drag of his cock against your walls is exquisite, and you can’t contain the moan that bursts from you when he plunges back inside.

“How does it feel?” You gasp, your nails digging into his muscles and your legs wrapping around his waist.

“So fu- so good, tight and wet and hot and perfect,” he nearly sobs, “I won’t last.”

“That’s okay, Woo, you can cum whenever you want. And you can swear.”

He doesn’t normally curse in front of you, or much at all, and you’re nearly desperate to hear him uncensored. You want to know all sides of him, know him better than you know yourself, and you revel in the knowledge that now you know him like nobody else does.

It takes him a few strokes to find a rhythm but when he does, it’s devastating. He moves in and out of you slowly, but with power behind every thrust. You’re halfway up the bed before you even realize but Geonwoo just follows you, climbing up and using the new surface to fuck you even harder.

He’s so good at this already, but you shouldn’t be shocked. He’s got the heart of a boxer and the muscle control of one too, and that just means he’s even more efficient at building you up and breaking you down. You’re at the building up part now, the orgasm you weren’t sure you’d reach slowly coming into view as he shifts one shaking hand down between your legs.

“Cum with me?” He begs brokenly, his cock starting to twitch and leak inside of you. All you can do is nod, too busy whimpering at the feeling of his fingers on your clit and his big dick filling you up to form any words. He swears under his breath, his hips stuttering as one of his arms snakes under you to pull you into his chest. You cling to him, your body held almost fully aloft, and feel the rubber band in your stomach stretch thinner and thinner until finally, it snaps.

You clamp down so tight on him he can barely move, your walls swallowing around his cock and sucking it in deeper as he shatters with a groan. It’s the first time you’ve ever reached release with someone before, and immediately you know this is how it always should be. Your orgasm feeds into his and his into yours, his jerking dick drawing out every last bit of pleasure you can feel as he fills you up with his cum.

Your mind is hazy, your thoughts unspooled and messy, and your body hurts, your muscles sore and your core achey, but you’ve never felt better in your life. You’ve never been happier or more content than you are right now, with your numb legs and throbbing center and full, full, full pussy.

Geonwoo is still holding you to him with his face buried in your neck but he slowly collapses the arm holding him up, sinking down to the bed until he’s got half his weight on you. You want to see him, want to know what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, but you can’t disturb him, can’t pop the bubble you’ve found yourself in with him.

It could be seconds, minutes, or hours until he pulls away. He’s gotten softer inside you but he still feels big, his cock plugging you up and keeping all of his cum from trickling out. When he lifts his head up to look at you, his eyes are misty, his lips are swollen, and his cheeks are red, and you swear he’s never been more beautiful to you.

“Thank you,” he breathes, his voice tight with an emotion you don’t recognize.

“Of course, Woo. I would do anything for you,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his face. You brush over his cheekbones with your thumbs and pull him in closer, pressing a soft peck first upon his lips, then his nose, then his forehead. His eyes crinkle with a shy smile before he tilts his chin and captures your lips again in a sweet, slow kiss.

Your hips are growing sore, the need for a shower is growing urgent, and you think you even felt your stomach growl, but none of that feels more important than staying in his embrace. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him, and it might never happen again. You wish the thought didn’t settle in the pit of your stomach like a sinking stone, but here you are, wrapped around Geonwoo and trying to keep yourself from crying as he kisses you more gently than you’ve ever been kissed before.

You get too distracted by your somber realization to move your lips against his and he pulls away, furrowing his eyebrows when he sees the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, panicked and with his cheeks squished between your hands.

“No!” You rush to assure him. “No, you didn’t hurt me, I’m just…”

“You’re what?” His voice is tender, patient, encouraging, but you aren’t ready to bare yourself to him like this just yet, no matter how naked you already are.

Shaking your head, you pinch his cheek and force a smile, “I’m ready for a shower. Are you?”

He purses his lips, gazing at you knowingly but thankfully deciding to let you keep your secrets.

“Yeah, I am. Do you want to start the water while I strip the bed?”

“That sounds good.”

You nod to each other but neither of you make a move. It’s like you’re frozen, stuck in place until you give your unpleasant thoughts a voice. Geonwoo holds your gaze, his expression open and understanding, and you wish you could just tell him.

Tell him that you don’t want there to be any others after you. That you don’t want anyone else now that you’ve had him. That you don’t want this to be the first and last time. That the feelings you hold for him are no longer simply platonic.

But you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out, the words caught in your throat as it starts to burn like it always does when you cry. You swallow down the tears, swallow down your fears and wishes and desires, and begin the process of removing yourself from him.

He allows it, slowly pulling away until he frees himself with a hiss, his fingers immediately covering your entrance to keep his cum from spilling out. Your cheeks heat at the intimacy of his touch, a small gasp escaping you as he breathes, “I wish you could keep it inside.”

You could always fill me up again, you think wistfully.

“Me too, Geonwoo,” you murmur instead.

You're alone in the shower letting the water run over your face so you can pretend you're not crying when you hear the door open. Geonwoo peeks his head around the edge of the curtain with a hopeful grin and asks, "Can I join you?"

You hold back a sniffle and nod, smiling weakly and stepping away from the spray so he has room to climb in. He does so gracefully, solid on his feet and confident in his balance, before turning to face you and taking you in his arms. He pulls you into a hug, your naked bodies pressed together under the warm rush of water, and you melt against him, your arms winding around his neck and your knees deciding to go on break.

"Do you think, maybe, I could, um, take you out on a date sometime? Like... as soon as possible?" He whispers into your neck, just loud enough for you to hear him over the shower.

Your heart stops, thumps one, two, three times, and then starts racing.

"I'm free right now."

Tagging: @calllmeifugetlost @againwithwonu @sparklingtragedy

My Masterlist

#kim geonwoo #geonwoo fanfiction #woo dohwan #bloodhounds #bloodhounds kdrama #bloodhounds fanfic #bloodhounds netflix #woo do hwan ff #woo do hwan fanfiction #woo do hwan #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds imagines #kim gun woo #hong woo jin #✨emily writes✨

[jin-in-faerun]

Modern College BG3 AU - Rolan x OC!TAV

This is just a random thought that came to mind while I was working and jotted down the basics I kinda want to do something with this. All the races, Tiefling, Drow, Dwarves and such exist just a modern Faerun.

Imagine Rolan working at a local prestige university as a TA for a history professor (Professor Lorroakan) and working at the library to pay the bills.

The professor works him to the bone, Tav is a student who notices the worn-out grump. She's fallen for him despite his prickly attitude knowing it's just a front. The professor gets too abusive of his power on Rolan and Tav is like I'm done with that shit.

Calling out the professor in class, as they discuss classism and racism in the workplace and she's like "kettle/pot". In sighting a huge discussion with the rest of the students, all the while Rolan is like please shut up.

Rolan after class confronts her a bit upset she called out the professor on that, a bit embarrassed and defensive.

"Don't you think I have the ability to handle myself and stop things that bother me?"

"I just don't like how he treats you." She insists, thumbing through her notes.

"And how should I be treated?" He grumbles, golden eyes burning through her notes trying not to notice the tone her voice, the kindness.

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

Just a thought tumbling around the noggin. I might work on this some this weekend.

I have finished the story here is a link to it: Part 1 || Part 2

#jin writes #my writing #holy rolan empire #bg3 rolan #bg3 #bg3 headcanons #rolan x tav #rolan x oc #modern au #bg3 modern au #college au

[jinmukangwrites]

Oooh if you’re still doing drabbles linked universe + 28. Drunk?? Specifically Wild or Twilight?? Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Hey don't cry, AO3 is down drabble prompts

---

Twilight sighed when he came downstairs to see Warriors, Sky, Hyrule, and Wild all piss-drunk at the tavern.

Warriors, the obvious perpetrator for convincing the others to get drunk, was happily flirting with any ear that would listen. Sky was nursing another drink, eyes wet and close to tears, while Hyrule rubbed his back and chatted away like if he'd stop talking he'd explode.

Wild, on the other hand, was completely passed out at the wooden table, cup halfway empty and abandoned.

Twilight sighed, he didn't know why Wild would agree to something so spontaneous, especially considering Twilight's pretty sure he wasn't a drinker normally. He probably got peer pressure into it.

Regardless, Twilight passed the other heroes, deciding they will all meet, and deserve, their own fate with soberness, but Twilight was at least going to make sure Wild made it back to their shared rented room instead of ruining his back sleeping down here.

He grabbed Wild under the arm and hefted him up with a soft grunt. Wild mumbled something unintelligible, but Twilight didn't bother to try and decipher anything he said. He practically dragged the smaller hero back up the stairs, ignoring Warriors give a loud laugh to something luwd, and eventually he tugged Wild into their room and closed the door.

Wild's eyes have cracked open in the journey, but they're lazy and unfocused.

"Alright, cub," Twilight huffed, dropping Wild onto one of the beds. "Let's get you to bed."

Wild mumbled, groaning as he lifted a hand to his forehead. "Don...t wanna sleep."

"Sucks that you're a tired drunk, then." Twilight smiled to himself, unlacing Wild's boots and tugging them off.

Wild groaned again. "Sssucks. Head hurtss."

"Yeah," Twilight replied. "Drinking can do that."

"Duh- don't wanna sssleep. Huh-hate sleep. M'fraid I won-wont wake up."

Twilight paused, then looked up at the younger hero. He frowned at what he saw. Wild stared up at the ceiling, glaring at it like it had personally offended him. He looked exhausted, but his bottom lip was trembling.

Twilight approached so Wild could better see him. "You'll wake up, you'll have a killer headache, but you'll wake up."

Wild shook his head. "Keep... Keep falling ss-sleep. Weeks pass. Years. M'tired."

"How about this, I'll make sure you wake up."

Wild blinked lazily, but his eyes land on Twilight. "Puh...romise?"

Twilight smiled. "I'll be right here, I'll wake you up first thing in the morning."

It seemed that was all Wild needed to fully let himself relax. His eyes fluttered as he practically went boneless. "Guh... good... Thanks..."

His eyes slid shut, and his breathing evened out.

Twilight sighed, being a hand to his forehead and brushing the hair out of his face. He shifted Wild's limp body so he's under the covers, then doused the lamps. He better get to bed himself, he had a very important promise to keep, even though Twilight didn't think Wild's impending hangover would thank him for it.

#linked universe #hero of twilight #hero of the wild #jin writes #fanfiction #alcohol tw

[onmyo-jin]

iron triangle in egyptology class

[Fun fact that I want to explain to Lyx, who has not seen any dmbj except the heihua movie: none of these guys are archaeologists or historians of any kind; the only one with a degree (as far as we know) is Wu Xie, who studied architecture. I imagine these are evening classes they're taking as a hobby, finding out more things about different tombs around the world... that's what AUs are for, aren't they?]

"-- AND they're teaching us to translate using Budge! Of all people! The man's been dead for near a century and wrong for even longer, why can't they write something more decent!!" Wu Xie exclaimed, waving an old book around in a way that couldn't possibly be good for the spine.

"Sshhh Tianzhen, they'll kick us out of the library if you keep going like that," Pangzi hissed, though a quick look around told them their section of the library was deserted. Some pulling and prodding later, and Wu Xie finally sat back down in his seat--

-- only to jump right back up and start ranting again: "That's where the adverbial sedjem-en-ef with a cleft subject should go! Aargh, can't they get anything right??"

"Tianzhen! You're the one who chose the optional language course, you did this to yourself."

"I knoww..." Wu Xie flopped down in his chair, and slumped forward face first onto his notes. "That's why its so terrible."

A sigh that seemed to come from his very toes fluttered across his notes, and Pangzi turned to his own book-- just history for him, thanks, no ridiculous language juggling for Pang-ye. History, and some shiny treasures to look at. A man should know his own strengths.

"Xiaoge~," Wu Xie seemed determined not to focus on his work. Pangzi rolled his eyes at his book. "Xiaoge, what are you reading?"

Silently Xiaoge slid his book over to Wu Xie, who looked at it, and then remained quiet for a very long time.

"I studied architecture in Germany before, but this German... I can barely read it! How old is this book?"

Xiaoge answered without looking at the publication date on the first page: "1971."

"'71?? Hasn't someone taken the time to print a new version of this??" Wu Xie exclaimed again, and was hushed again by Pangzi. At least this time he sat down without urging.

"Whose brilliant idea was this again?"

Xiaoge shook his head in response.

"But why?" Wu Xie sounded plaintive. Clearly he was starting to regret his own idea of 'fun evening classes'

"They were very thorough, so no one wants to rewrite it," Xiaoge said, and Wu Xie's head connected with the desk with a loud thud.

~

Send me an ask with a pairing and an AU and I'll write you a ficlet!

#dmbj #tlt #no egyptologists were harmed in the writing of this ficlet #if you do happen to know something about egyptology: iykyk #iron triangle #au fic meme #jin writes #real friends send you ask memes even though theyre not in the same fandom #the first person to tell me what movie I'm referencing gets to make a fic request without the AU stipulation if they want #no googling but also id be impressed if you did manage to find this via google #brought to you by my own experiences at egyptology

[trans-ace-lee]

Borne Back Ceaselessly into the Past

Author's Note: Warning this is a tickle fic. This has been written for almost 2 weeks now. For the record, do not, I repeat DO NOT read this fic if you haven't watched episode 8 The Mu in Muichiro episode of Demon Slayer season 3 Swordsmith Village Arc and/or finished the entire manga.

Tagging (Note, I'm tagging people I talk to that I know watch demon slayer @italeean @wertzunge @myreygn @ticklygiggles @otomiya-tickles @giggly-squiggily @duckymcdoorknob

Muichiro knows the other hashiras get into tickle fights, but they take care not to include him. Before regaining his memories, he had forgotten what it was like to smile, let alone laugh. After meeting Tanjiro and everything that happened at the swordsmith village, he can recall faint memories of being tickled by his mom and dad before they died, leaving him and Yuichiro to fend for themselves. And maybe even rare times of his brother, Yuichiro tickling him whenever Muichiro annoyed him. He remembers the warmness from those moments, but he can only see the face that matches his own, albeit colder and stronger than he ever was then. The others are blurred like footprints in the sand washed away by the sea.

But he’s unsure. He attributes tickling to happy things. Yet, all these emotions he gets to experience once more are sometimes overwhelming and confusing. His survival instincts have told him to lash out, so thinks the rest or all of the hashiras would be too much.

Muichiro knows that Oyakata-sama, Tanjiro, and the hashiras care about him, but a part of him is afraid of hurting someone. The former two are kind and considerate. Shinobu is what he imagines his mom was like before she got sick. Sanemi and Obanai are strong. Although Mitsuri and Tengen can be a bit much sometimes, they have good hearts and care about the ones they love. And Gyomei is gentle despite his size and wise even though he’s blind, knowing what others need before they realize it themselves.

He doesn’t know who to go to. He’s been able to hear and remember the other hashiras’ stories, so he knows whom he doesn’t want.

“Tanjiro?”

Tanjiro greets Muichiro with the same dizzying smile, radiating such warmth and kindness that breaks through almost every wall he has. It’s so infectious that Muichiro can’t help but return the gesture. “Yes, Tokito?”

There’s a tightness in his chest. It bubbles up into his throat, and he feels like he is drowning in his own saliva. His heart is beating, no humming, like hummingbird wings. He imagines his eyes are rounder than normal as he stares at Tanjiro. Muichiro’s brain is telling him to flee.

Tanjiro’s eyebrows furrow. “Is something wrong?”

He doesn’t reply right away. Something in his head tells him he’s just nervous, but the new feeling isn’t welcome, nonetheless. “I’m…fine.”

“Well, you can talk to me if you ever need to,” Tanjiro replies with a smaller smile this time.

Muichiro debates shielding his eyes.

“Did you need something in particular?”

‘N-no?” Muichiro stammers, clenching his sword.

In reality, he knows he can ask Tanjiro for any favor, and Tanjiro would do everything in his power to fulfill the said request, but the words just won’t come. “Remember when you told me about your siblings?”

Tanjiro’s smile falters for a bit, but it quickly returns, his eyes softening. “Of course. Is there something else you want to know?”

“Huh?” Muichiro says, feeling a faint warmth on his cheeks. “It’s not that…”

“Did you need something, then?”

He’s smacked in the face by memories of someone younger and sweeter than the person he is now. He can remember bits and pieces. Tanjiro is reminiscent of shared laughter and making food with his family. It’s a feeling filled with joy, like sitting under a tree when rays of sunshine hit your face in just the right place to warm your entire body. The birds are chirping, and every negative emotion you have is replaced by the love you give and the love you get from others.

And yet, it’s sad and distant, even though Muichiro knows he can find it among the demon slayer corps, but he doesn’t know if he has enough time to trust everyone enough to feel the same way again. When he’s reminded of the person, the child he used to be, he mourns the lost innocence and the big heart his brother admired.

Muichiro takes a deep breath. It’s moments like these that remind him that Tanjiro is older than him, if only by a year or so. They’re both kids. He doesn’t like being reminded that they’re so young, but they’ve gone through so much.

“You know the thing you’d do with your siblings?” he says, turning the statement into a question.

Tanjiro’s eyes widen, blinking in response. “Oh?” He cocks his head to the right. “I know you’re still warming up to that kind of stuff, so I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“But if it’s you, then I don’t mind?” Muichiro mumbles, contemplating digging a hole in the ground and throwing himself inside it. Right now, he really wishes Tanjiro wasn’t looking at him the way he is. If a person would ever befriend a demon that wasn’t Nezuko, Tanjiro would be the one to do so.

“Well, where do you want me to start?”

Well, there’s no turning back, Muichiro supposes, as his face grows hotter. “Uhm…I don’t even remember where I’d be…you know...”

Tanjiro chuckles. “Let’s go inside where it’s more comfortable.”

Somehow in the few minutes it takes them to walk into one of the rooms in butterfly mansion, every Kakushi they pass is left glowing with happiness when Tanjiro greets them by name. Muichiro normally keeps to himself, but he might consider talking to them every once in a while.

“Can you sit in front of me?” Tanjiro asks after he kneels on the tatami mats in one of the mansion’s spare training rooms.

Muichiro’s fingers twitch as he fights the urge to fiddle with his hair, a habit he’s picked up when he’s confused or unsure. “Like this?” he asks, sitting down with his legs crossed and flat on the ground.

“That’s fine,” Tanjiro hums. He holds his hands out for Muichiro to see.

Muichiro stares at Tanjiro’s hands, his lips faintly twitching.

Tanjiro grins at his reaction. “It’s okay. We can do this at the speed you’re comfortable with.”

“…I’m just a little nervous,” he admits. Although Tanjiro’s words are comforting to a degree, Muichiro wishes his bangs were a bit longer to cover his entire face. He settles on covering his eyes with his sleeves.

“We can go slow if you’d like.”

He peeks at Tanjiro behind his fingers. “I-I think I’d be okay with that.  I just don’t know where to start.”

“Let’s start with something easy,” Tanjiro says with a chuckle, “How about your sides?”

Muichiro closes his eyes and nods before he can change his mind. He’s nervous, but he doesn’t find himself scared in any way. He trusts Tanjiro. He knows he can trust Tanjiro to stop if he feels uncomfortable.

“I want you to see what I’m doing.” Tanjiro holds up his hands in claws.

Maybe Muichiro isn’t ticklish anymore. Maybe his body has forgotten what the sensation is like.

At the electric feeling that shoots up his body, he does not topple over backward. He does not squeak when Tanjiro’s fingers make contact with his sides with a gentle flutter. His face does not flush when Tanjiro comments that Muichiro reacts just like Tanjiro’s brother, Takeo.

“Are you okay?” Tanjiro asks. Muichiro can hear that Tanjiro is equal parts amused and concerned.

And he does not pout when he replies. “I’m fine.”

“How does it feel? Am I good to keep going?”

Muichiro thinks for a moment. “…It’s different, but not in a bad way?”

He grumbles to himself when the statement comes out like a question. After losing his memories, but before recovering them, he knows his smiles are few and far between. The ones he can remember are mostly mocking enemies or forced by an overzealous Mitsuri’s hands pulling at his lips when she gets carried away.

Muichiro’s lips twitch once more, a movement that Tanjiro still doesn’t miss. “You can keep going,” he mumbles.

“Are you going to come back up here or am I going to have to go down there.”

“Noooooo,” Muichiro whines, covering his face with his left arm.

It’s just tickling. He’s seen the tickle fights the other hashiras and the demon slayers get into.

But why does he feel so light and almost giddy? It’s an emotion he’s not familiar with at all. He might have felt this way before but can’t quite remember when. Was it before he became a demon slayer? Before it was just him and Yuichiro? When his mom and dad were still alive?

He doesn’t know where this feeling came from, but he wants to find out, so he doesn’t want this, everything that’s happened after regaining his memories, to stop.

Muichiro doesn’t want to forget anymore.

When Tanjiro’s fingers start moving again, he finds himself giggling, the laughter bubbling out of his mouth like a babbling brook. He likes to think of himself as a serious person for the most part, but he just can’t stop laughing.

Besides the tickling, there’s a fluttering sensation in the back of his mind that reminds him of…home, so he just lies on the ground with his arms on his chest as more laughter pours out of him.

Muichiro’s face hurts from smiling for so long.

“Your laughter is brighter than I imagined,” Tanjiro says as if reading Muichiro’s mind. “…It’s cute.”

Muichiro cackles at the comment when Tanjiro pokes at his ribs. “I’m naahaat cuteee.”

Tanjiro clicks his tongue. “That’s what someone cute would say, right Nezuko?”

Muichiro hadn’t noticed that Nezuko had been in the room. It didn’t surprise him, since he knew Tanjiro and Nezuko were usually together, but he couldn’t focus on the details as Nezuko nuzzles her hair into his neck.

He shrieks at the slight roughness of her hair, but he wishes that necks were less sensitive. He wishes his neck was less sensitive.

Tanjiro laughs, wiggling his fingers into Muichiro’s underarms. “You have to be gentle, Nezuko.”

This time his elbows move back, arms clamping to his sides. “Aaahaaaha. Waahait. Wait. Wait,” he blubbers.

The tickling stops immediately. “Did we go too far?” Tanjiro asks, his voice oozing concern.

“No. no!” Muichiro says. And no, he does not squawk. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

Tanjiro’s face brightens at Muichiro’s words.

“M-mmph! Mmph.” Nezuko replies as she lies down beside Muichiro.

“Do you want tickles, too, Nezuko?”

“Mmhhp,” she giggles when Tanjiro’s hands spider around her stomach.

Muichiro can’t help but smile at the two of them. Maybe he and Yuichiro used to look like that when they were younger.

Tanjiro smirks at him. “Oh, don’t think I forgot about you.”

He squeals when Tanjiro does the same to his stomach, arching into Tanjiro’s fingers because it tickles too much. He doesn’t want to reminisce about his tragic past anymore, he just wants to let the happiness and laughter take over him.

Muichiro can see the same soft smile on Tanjiro’s face when he talks about his siblings. It comforts him.

“No. No. Noohohoho,” he yells when Tanjiro’s fingers slip past his sides to the small of his back. His body slams back to the ground as he cackles, snorting when Tanjiro hits the slight dimples above the back of his waist.

It tickles. It tickles. It tickles.

“Ooh. I think I found a good spot,” Tanjiro says, laughing along with Muichiro.

Scratch that. Now he wishes his back was as ticklish as his neck, but he doesn’t feel overwhelmed. He supposes that this is the biggest range of happy emotions he’s ever experienced. The sensations that make this uncontrollable laughter spill out of him aren’t bad, they’re just something he needs to get used to.

The bottom half of his body is less sensitive than the top half of his body, but he can’t help the snorts that burn his nose when Tanjiro scribbles his hands behind his knees or the way his eyes close when Tanjiro pinches his thighs.

When tears are prickling at the edge of his eyes, and Muichiro’s face has become a little red from laughing so hard, the tickling stops. Muichiro can tell his hair is a little messy, but he finds that he doesn’t mind when Nezuko curls into his lap.

Nezuko hums when Muichiro starts running his fingers through her hair. “Thank you for that, Tanjiro,” he says, trying to return the blinding smile that Tanjiro has on his face.

“No thanks needed. I’m happy to do it any time,” Tanjiro replies with a somehow even bigger smile than normal.

“Who started a tickle fight without me,” Tengen calls out, sticking his head in the doorway. “Oh?”

Tengen looks at Muichiro’s hair and then at Tanjiro and Nezuko.

“All right, why didn’t anyone tell me we could tickle Muichiro now,” Tengen says in a mock hurt tone.

“Huh…This is kind of new, I guess…”

Tengen holds a hand as if to ask for permission before patting Muichiro’s head. “Well, I’m happy then. Now to find Sanemi. That grumpy bastard is going to get used to smiling at some point.”

Muichiro’s face morphs back into its usual blank slate. He can’t get the past back, but maybe being here, with them, is enough.

#tickle fic #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #tokito muichiro #kamado tanjiro #kamado nezuko #jin's fics #jin writes