#!!!!! this was longer than i expected but whew what a ride to write

[soothinglee]

now it’s different; i am the one inlove...

jeongin x reader | 3.3k✔︎ | mainly his point of view.

my notes⎯ whew. this is the longest fic i've ever posted and i can't lie and say it wasn't a pain. originally i got this idea from listening to "morning dew" like 100 times and thought it would be perfect to write something for i.n.

warnings⎯ somewhat angsty, poor writing, some cursing, doubts, and humorous dialogue (so sorry if you dont find me funny).

genre⎯ eventual friends to lover, angst.

songs⎯ morning dew; xavier wulf | a new kind of love; frou frou

⎯catalog for skz✰ | requests r open

12.03.23 | 4:04 p.m;

it had been ten minutes since you left jeongins’ side to aid seungmin in teasing changbin. the frigid weather turning your breaths to smoky clouds as you laugh at one another.

jeongin rests in his spot on the park bench, if you ask, he’ll simply say he cannot join in on the fun due to the stiffness in his joints, and not the fact that an unwavering feeling of jealousy is creeping through his bones like wildfire.

he can’t help but narrow his eyes at the skinship you give felix, reaching up to brush the snowflakes out of his bangs, threading your fingers in his when you spot a squirrel resting in a tree; dragging him towards the spot before the rodent runs off.

jeongin hates physical touch with a burning passion. there would never not be a time where he didn’t push one of his hyungs off of him. he didn’t like when bangchan would suprise back hug him, or when hyunjin would randomly sit in his lap and pester him.

yet when he looks at the way you interact with the other members, he cant help but wonder what it would feel like with his hands in yours. running around the white colored park, throwing snow at eachothers faces, trying not to slip on the ice while playing tag with everyone else.

you weren't shy to affection, jeongin knew that for a fact. so there wasn't any real reason for him to be scared to go up to you and initiate a hug or a hand hold. but the overwhelming feeling he's been trying to hide for the last two years is holding him back.

yang jeongin has the biggest crush on you. he just wont admit it.

all the other members can see it clear as day, they don't hesitate to tease him about it when you aren't around; sometimes they do it infront of you but they are somewhat discreet about it.

"you're staring again." a muffle voice comments beside him. jeongin flinches at the sudden sound, he had been sitting by himself silently for a little longer than he had expected. "keep it up and she'll think you're a creep."

jeongin raises up his fist towards hyunjins face to which the man backs away quickly, "shut it." he threatens, he turns his attention back towards you, watching you get a piggyback ride through the snow by bangchan. he holds back a scoff.

hyunjin shrugs, readjusting his scarf around his face. the tip of his nose peeks through the fabric, it's color matches his ears; dusted a cherry red, "i'm not lying. even just watching you watch her is making me uncomfortable," he shivers to further his point, jeongin lightly shoves him. "i don't know why you wont just tell her."

jeongin feels his blood run cold contrast to the heat in his cheeks. he gives a quick glance towards hyunjin who watches him expectantly. "i don't know what you're talking about." he mumbles, adjusting his body on the wooden bench. he's been sitting for so long that his butt is growing numb.

"i.n-ah!"

"what?" he says, "i don't have any feelings for her, i'm only just looking. it's not illegal or did the laws suddenly change?"

jeongin swivels his head exasperatedly to look at hyunjin only to find him staring back with a wide grin. jeongin raises an eyebrow.

after a moment of staring, hyunjin lightly murmurs, "i never said anything about having a crush on her." his grin widens.

in that moment panic flushes through jeongins body and he's quick to clamp a hand over hyunjins mouth. "shut up. shut up dude."

"YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON Y/N." hyunjins voice comes out muffled underneath jeongins glove but he can still hear it very clearly. he just hopes no one else (more specifically you) hears it aswell.

"you liar, i do not! hyung, please stop screaming, i swear-!"

"you guys alright?" a third voice pipes up. both of them turn and see you standing a couple inches away, bare hands shoved in pockets looking like a swaddled marshmallow. you were covered head to toe in snow, proof of the snowball fight you had with felix lingered on your clothing. the apples of your cheeks moved with every sniff you took and jeongin couldn't help but mentally compare you to a bunny.

he immediately released hyunjin, who stayed in his backed up postion grinning at him. "yeah." he cringes at the way his voice cracked out of nerves, or the way his palms started to sweat despite the cold.

"are you sure?" you question, looking at hyunjin then back at him, "i thought i heard a scream."

"no-"

"-you did." hyunjin interjects, slapping a hand on jeongins back. his body jostles forward at the contact. "but it was nothing, right i.n? just some light teasing."

jeongin grunts through his teeth, "yeah. harmless."

you nod, unsure that it's the whole truth, "okay..." you point behind you, gesturing over towards the disfigured snow man whose bottom half lay smaller than its top, it's eyes on opposite sides of its face. "well if you're sure...i'll just go back."

before you can fully turn around, two heavy hands place itself on your shoulders to halt your movements, "no, you should stay and take a break. you've been moving around a lot. i'll finish your snowman with changbin."

you look at hyunjin, eyebrows scrunched together, "are you sure? you don't need to do that, we're almost finished anyway-."

hyunjin looks towards the figure and back towards you, "-no the hell you aren't. don't worry," he reassures, taking a deep breath. you can almost see the captains hat form on his head. "leave it to the artist."

he gives you a light push towards the empty spot next to jeongin, his butt print out lined in the snow on the seat. he turns around and calls out to changbin, "yah! it looks like shit! let me take over!"

"eh? you don't know jack about making a snowman!"

"i know more than you do, genius!" his voice fades away as his stumbles down the hill and towards a grumpy changbin.

you can't help but let out a giggle at the twos bickering. "something is wrong with them."

jeongin tries to nod in agreement but finds himself frozen.

at the lack of a response you turn towards him and see him tense in his spot, "are you okay?" concern drips from your voice as you lean towards him.

he hums quietly, giving you a brief glance and then returning his attention to hyunjin kicking over the snowman. "'m good."

you only nod and face forward.

a couple minutes go by as nothing else is exchanged. your hands begin to freeze due to the lack of heat to your fingers. you pull them out to send a few frosty puffs of air to at least try to heat them up but it doesn't work; you can practically see the icicles grow from your nails.

"it's so cold." you comment, rubbing your hands together.

jeongin perks up at your voice instantly, looking over at the way your shoulders shiver and the weak attempt at warming yourself up. before he even realizes it, he's pulling off his own mittens. "where are your gloves?" he questions, no hints of mockery in his croaky voice.

"gave them to han." you comment, smiling softly, "lee know took his when they were fighting and he wouldn't stop whining about how he was going to have to get his fingers amputated, so i gave him mines."

jeongin can't help the smile making its way to his face at your selflessness. you were always like that, worrying about others before yourself. it was admirable but he wishes you didn't do it as much.

"what about your hands?" he questions, holding out his own pair to you. you kindly reject his offer, pushing away his hands as he tries to force them onto yours.

"what about them?" you retort, "i was keeping them busy, with all the movement it gave me enough warmth."

he can't help but roll his eyes. he gives one last attempt at taking your hands and lets out a little cheer when you relent and give them up. jeongin feels his eyes widen as he looks at the purple color nipping at your fingers, sure you'll get frostbite later. he quickly slides on the wool gloves (much faster than he would've liked- it would've been nice to hold your hands a little longer) and watches satisfied when you lean back on the bench with a relaxed sigh.

with your eyes closed, basking in the new warmth, the feeling of the snowflakes hit the bridge of your nose tickles as you try to brush them off. you can't help the childish giggles that escape you as you scrunch your nose in retaliation.

and jeongin can't help but watch.

all he wanted to do was deny, deny, deny his feelings for you.

he didn't want to complicate the relationship you had built up since you joined the group. he was the first person you talked to, he saw how anxious you were and did everything he could to make you feel comfortable, despite the fact that he was relatively new too and couldn't do much.

sure you were close with all the other members, but you and jeongin had a connection. something deep down that made your tummy hum and your head feel cloudy. every time he was near you he felt- cheesy enough- complete.

jeongin doesn't like you like that.

he couldn't.

"just friends." he thinks, watching as you turn to him with a smile that makes his heart hurt. "just friends."

12.05.23 | 8:23 p.m;

it had been a couple days since you all went to the park and you can already feel the sickness creeping up your throat.

most of the tea in the house was gone due to the other 8 contracting colds left and right. so when you go into the cabinet to make you another fix it wasn’t surprise to see that the options were limited.

what was surprising was that your chamomile tea, which you bought for yourself only (and jeongin) was sat empty on the shelf.

“son of a-.” you start, turning back towards the rooms lined the hallway, “which one of you bitches drank my tea?”

“me, sorry,” a voice echoes down the hall, “i ran out of mine and yours was the only one that looked good.”

jisung.

“i lend you my gloves and this is how you repay me?” you shout back, opting for some black tea instead, turning on the stove. “just for that you have to do my chores for the next week!”

it’s silent for a concerning second, and then a loud, throaty cough, “girl, fuck you!”

before you could spit out a long winded response, full of curse words you didn’t even know could be strung together, a gentle hand was placed on your back.

“you need to relax, you’ll raise your blood pressure, grandma.”

you turn around and see jeongin standing there with a mask around his face. he’s clad in a matching tracksuit, it was a size too big so it hung off his shoulders, allowing you to see the tank strap he had on underneath.

good lord.

“i’m legit only a couple months older than you.” you retort, pointing a wooden spoon at his face, “not too much on me.”

he laughs and raises his hands in defense, “i apologize.” he does you a favor and starts to put water in the kettle, “if it’s really that serious, i could just go out and get more for you. you don’t have to kill han over it.”

you watch as he places the kettle on the stove and ignites the burner, “i would be doing lee know a favor.”

he laughs again and allows you to take over. “plus you’re sick too.” you add, watching steam slowly blow out of the hole, “i don’t want you to go out and take care of me when you’re in the same state. that ain’t right.”

jeongin says nothing for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. he doesn’t want to lay out all his cards on the table, his confession riddle with coughs and pit stops to wipe his nose. but he wants to say that he doesn’t care that’s he’s sick. that he’ll go back to a few days ago and give you the coat off his back if you asked.

to be honest, just like the gloves, you wouldn’t have to.

he’ll willingly give you anything. even the world if you truly wanted it.

ugh, cheesy.

he pulls out his phone and leans against the counter next to you, "if you wont let me get it, i'll just doordash it."

you perk up, "you can doordash tea?"

jeongin nods and grins, facing the app towards you were the jewel-osco section is pulled up, "uh-yeah? you didn't know that?"

you scoff, "no? i'm not a online food delivery freak like the rest of you."

"you say that until you're asking me to order you some take out at like one in the morning."

you roll your eyes and push him out the way jokingly. the kettle begin to whistle like felix trying to hit a high note and you pour the hot water into the mug. "watch it." you pull down another cup from the cabinet, "and please don't spend your money on me. save it for something better."

jeongin raises an eyebrow, "like what? more clothes?" he jokes, clicking place order. "it's fine. i like buying things for you. even if its something small." small was definitely not the right word after he just spent 10 dollars on a tiny box of packets.

you can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks and turn your back to him, finding sudden interest in the tea in front of you. "i'll pay you back later."

"no need." he says, voice coming out softer than he intended, "like i said, i like buying stuff for you." he watches as your hands pause putting the sachets in the mugs and takes over, "i got it."

you have to force the thank you out of your throat as you stare up at him. maybe its because you're sick, but the lightheaded feeling becomes intense and you have to grip the sides of the counter to stabilize yourself. you watch as his hands move with ease, adding the sugar, then the honey to each respective mug.

he says nothing more, but he doesn't need to really say anything. the intense look on his face voices his thoughts a lot more than he wanted to let on, just like a few days ago. something was on his mind, he just wasn't saying what.

"are you okay?" you ask gently, laying a hesitant hand on his mid-back. you can feel him tense underneath your touch for a spilt second and then his body relaxes. he looks towards you quickly, giving a stiff smile. he pushes the finished tea towards you, your hands incase the hot cup before the liquid can spill over.

"mhm." his fingers dance over the rim of his drink, "why wouldn't i be?"

"i dunno." you reply, "you just look...overwhelmed."

"well, i am sick." he smirks, pulling down his mask to his chin, "everything is a little overwhelmed right now."

you shove him lightly, careful of the cup in his hands, "you know that's not what i mean!" he laughs, "but...you do know you can talk to me right? like, you know i wont judge, right?"

he knows that, in a million years, that you were never critical to his feelings. for as long as he could remember the two of you were going to each other for problems that you couldn't solve alone. but this was a different feeling. and if he were to tell you, he could be ruining a relationship that took a long time to build up. why ruin that rapport for something like a silly crush?

but he couldn't help but wonder if you felt the same? there had been many times where some of the other boys said that you felt the same, even though it wasn't there business to get involved (they do not care). but jeongin knew how they could be. spreading misinterpreted lies to egg on something that most likely isn't true in the first place. they had a tendency to mix up words so why would now be any different?

he's spent all of this time convincing himself that what he felt for you wasn't crush like behaviors. just a good friend looking out for another.

but friends dont get jealous when the other holds another's hand. friends dont get jealous when the other gives another more attention. friends dont have the urge to take them on dates, or have their contact be more than platonic, or to kiss the other.

maybe hyunjin has a point, maybe he does like you.

jeongin feels that if his heart continues on like this, it could stop at any moment. "death by seemingly unrequited love." would look hella embarrassing on his tombstone.

out of all the situation he has been alone with you, why did his heart and mind choose now to tell you? maybe it's the sickness making him vulnerable but he feels a rush of confidence surge through his veins.

"actually," he starts, a nervous shake rattles his vocal cords. he refuses to make eye contact with you, finding interest in his scorching hot cup, "there is something i need to tell you."

you posture immediately straightens and you place down your mug, giving him your undivided attention. usually he loves it, now its burdensome, "oh? what is it?"

the tea shakes under his hold and he mentally curses it for exposing his fear. he wants to do it so bad, it'll be okay, he tries to convince himself. just let it out.

"i've been trying to convince myself for a while that what i feel isn't true but i think i should tell you now."

you nod, urging him to go on.

he takes a deep breath, he isn't trying to stall but the way his insides buckle is making it hard to find the words.

he started it, now he just has to finish.

"y/n, I...," he pauses, "y/n I lik-" before he can get it out there's a big crash coming from down the hall. heavy footsteps stop at the kitchens entrance and lee know stands there covered in bubbles.

"what the hell happened?" you comment, rushing over to him while holding back a laugh. he looks like the pillsbury dough boy standing there eagle spread.

lee know coughs and you swear you see several suds fly from his mouth. "seungmin. i'll kill him, i swear i will."

you let out a laugh and brush the soap from his shoulders. it takes you a second to remember but when you do you turn back around to look at jeongin, "i'm so sorry what were you saying?" you start to say only to find the tea he was drinking abandoned on the counter.

"jeongin?"

jeongin barely hears you call out his name as he rushes down the hall and towards his room. he can't help the tears that brim in his eyes and he starts to feel pathetic wiping them away.

what the hell was he thinking? admitting he liked you was hard enough on himself, so why did he think admitting it to you was a good idea?

as he sits on his bed, he can't help but feel a piece of him gone. you most likely didn't know where he was getting at, you didn't know that he was confessing to you in that moment. but the embarrassment of him understanding his words were worse. there was no way he could face you after that. for his own dignity.

as he cries he can't help but think;

it's always different, i am the one in love.

part 2?

[charmstwit]

Can we get a love letter between Sirius and Regulus? Like Siri to Reggie?

Whew. This one took a bit.

This is a response to this letter, and is part of Come with Me, as that letter was. TW: discussion of parental abuse typical of the Black Family in SWM below the cut.

~~~

Regulus, 

I– I honestly didn’t expect you to do this. I mean, I was– I hadn’t honestly thought that you would when I– You wrote me that–

I don’t know what to–

Regulus, 

Do you recall, when I was eleven and you were ten, and I was headed to Hogwarts? The night before I left, you climbed in my bed. Do you remember what you said? I do. You said, Sirius, you have to remember everything. Every moment of it. Remember it all and come back to tell me about it. 

The whole ride to Hogwarts, I took mental notes so I could tell you about it. The spell of the train car, the color of the seats, the way that James smiled when I first met him. I started writing it in a letter to you even before we got to Hogwarts. I knew I couldn’t send it, not with Mother there to read them if I did, but I wanted to save every single feeling the whole way there. 

Then, I was sorted into Gryffindor, and everything changed. Father showed up the next day, dragging me to the Headmaster’s office and demanding I be placed in Slytherin. He refused, of course. Father left me with Mother and told her to make sure I remembered who I was. 

She didn’t use the Cruciatus curse on me, not then, but she did hex me so that everything tied to Gryffindor burned my skin. For two weeks, even wearing my robes hurt. That wasn’t honestly the worst part, though. After she did it, she told me that I had disappointed the entire family. That I was a disgrace, and that I would be lucky if I would even be allowed to run the family after this. I didn’t care about them, though. I cared about you. 

She told me that I had upset you. That you had spent the whole night crying after you had heard. She told me that you hated me and didn’t want to be my brother anymore. She said that you had asked her to get rid of me because you didn’t want me any longer. 

This is what devastated me. 

I should have known better than to believe it, perhaps. Especially when she said you cried. By that age, you never cried any longer. However, I could only think of the nights that I would sneak into your room after a particularly painful punishment to find your face wet and asking me if I was alright. I thought of how Mother likely punished you for crying, for making demands of her that weren’t yours to make. 

I thought I lost you.

That was the worst of it. I could have handled the family’s disdain if I only had you by my side. You didn’t write–or if you did, Mother stopped the letters. I didn’t hear from you. All I knew was that Mother said you didn’t want me any longer. When I came home for Christmas, I was mad at you. It was easier than being hurt, and I was mad at everyone. I wouldn’t look at you. I knew that hurt you, but I didn’t care because I was hurting, too. 

You nearly carried me upstairs after mother used the Cruciatus, and I didn’t understand the tears I felt on my neck. I didn’t understand why you would cry for me if you hated me like Mother said, but nothing you did felt like hate. Not the way you cared for me, or stayed with me, or held me until the tremors left my fingers. 

Do you remember what you said to me then? After I returned to my body and your tears stopped? You said, Did you remember for me, Sirius? Did you remember so you could tell me everything? I reminded you that I was in Gryffindor, thinking you wouldn’t want to know then, but you said, I know. I want to know everything. 

I think about those two little boys sometimes, the brothers that hid under blankets as though the evils of the world couldn’t reach them there. I wonder what they would do if they could see us now, and what we’ve become to each other. I don’t think the little boy that is me would be surprised, at least not that you and I still love each other. Because on that night, at Christmas time after I became a Gryffindor, I swore that I would never let them separate us again, and that wherever I went in life, I would ask you to come with me. I could never have left without you. 

I don’t think I’m very good at love letters. I probably shouldn’t discuss abuse at the hands of our parents, but I think that moment was pivotal, at least for me. Do you feel it too?

I owe you a list of all the things that I adore about you, and if you would like it, I shall compose it for you. However, right now, I would really like to finish this letter and send it to you, and then perhaps, if you don’t mind, could I see you? Tonight?

Avec tout mon amour,

Sirius

P.S. I adore your shoulder. I know, I know. That’s an odd thing to focus on, but every time I see you with your shirt off, I have the strongest desire to lay my head just so against your shoulder, as though my head was made to fit there. I think that, perhaps, it was made for that purpose.

[ve1vetyoongi]

all aboard! (the passion express) | knj

Pairing: namjoon x reader

Genre: smut, office worker!namjoon.

Word count: 10.8k

Summary: There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find your self on your knees for him on the train home.

⇢ (or: in which Namjoon thinks you’re hot when you’re mad.)

Warnings: extremely public sex, dom namjoon, exhibitionism, oral (m recieving), thigh riding, kinda daddy kink, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), rough sex. also, namjoon in a shirt and tie (yum).

A/N: so. this happened. PURE FILTH. remind me not to scroll through “office worker namjoon” mood boards at 1am. p.s. train toilets r always gross so don’t do this (i warned u).

Playlist: visit my playlist page here and select “all aboard”.

⇢ Masterlist: x (links will be added once tumbr stops being a douche :/)

There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could.

Kim Namjoon.

The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker.

For the most part your job was perfect; a career in book publishing had always been your dream and spending hours with your nose deep in the pages of new manuscripts and having afternoon tea with authors on weekdays (fit with triangular sandwiches and miniature sponge cakes - paid for with the company card, of course) all in the name of “working” was exactly how you envisioned it - if not more.

That was until Namjoon joined the company six months ago. The day he turned up in the elevator in his stupid suit jacket, despite the dress code being business casual, was the beginning of a journey filled with bitterness, anger and a dread for working hours. And apparently the beginning of an undeniable, all consuming school girl crush which just made you hate him more.

You would be lying if you said you took notice of him immediately. I mean sure, you noticed the hoard of girls who traipsed behind his polished dress shoes, using excuses like coffee refills and desperate quests for paper clips to unashamedly flirt with him.

But you supposed you didn’t truly notice Namjoon until he made it utterly impossible for you to ignore him.

It all started when you began to notice your pens disappearing from the pot on your desk. First it was your red marker and then it was your pink highlighter and you were sure you were just misplacing things or suffering from short term memory loss until you noticed the pile up of stationary on Namjoon’s desk that you distinctlyremembered buying last week.

You decided to be civil, putting any earlier first impressions behind you to confront him politely, only to be met with a grumble about how they just “turned up there.”

Not even an apology, you mused, sending a seething glare his way while you rearranged your pens neatly where they belonged. What an asshole.

After that, every little thing he did seemed to grind your gears. The way he whistled along to the monotonous pop music that crackled out of the office radio, the off-pitch tune droning on and on until you excused yourself with a tight lipped smile before you lobbed a hole puncher at his head.Or the way he would empty the coffee pot without refilling it for the next person and how he always forgot to reset the timer on the microwave.

And then came the management meeting from Hell where what was supposed to be your turn to pitch a new project turned into Namjoon meeting each of your ideas with a bored eye roll and a condescending head shake. He even had the audacity to offer to go over the project out of hours, to “help you.” As if he suddenly had a life time of experience in publishing and you were nothing but an intern.

His pitch, however, went down a treat (much to your dismay).

From then on you found yourself bickering over the pettiest of disputes at every opportunity you could find - desperate to get under his skin, a thirst for satisfaction only quenched by well and truly pissing him off.

That’s when your vendetta against him began. You managed to convince yourself it wasn’t the way he looked through you at the office or the way he smirked at you knowingly when the shorts he wore in the summer made your mouth water or the way he was completely, utterly, positively uninterested in you in any way other than as the co worker he liked to taunt for fun.

And he made sure you knew it, too.

Like when he deliberately left the office blinds open knowing full well that you had a front row view as he so graciously walked Seo Yuna to her car in the lot after work hours - even glinting through the sun and giving a snide wave as though he knew you were watching him from your desk.

Was he trying to rub it in? Was he aware that everyone in the goddamn nine storey office block wished he would look their way? Nothing would surprise you. Just add narcissistic to the list of bad qualities he possessed.

If that was his intention you were ashamed to admit it worked; the pang of jealousy in your chest when he rested his elbows on the car to duck into Yuna’s open window taking you by surprise. And the red hot burn as your fingers pressed angry half moons into your palms to control the swoon that threatened to surface when his deep chuckles fluttered through the open window was enough to confirm one thing:

Yeah, you definitely had a crush on this guy.

And once again, you hated him - for having the ability to turn you into a puddle of lust and for making you want to giggle like a teenager and sit on the thighs that looked so good in those goddamn pants and for setting your pulse at a pace that was most definitely unhealthy and probably categorized you as critically at risk of a heart attack - just by looking at him.

Namjoon was either utterly oblivious or completely uncaring since he seemed intent on pushing you to your limits - and finally, in a climax of events, today was the day when he reached his clumsy-kinda-obnoxious-yet-annoyingly-attractive-while-doing-so peak and any grip you had on your dignity disappeared, setting the angry beast that had remained caged inside you free in the middle of the office.

When you returned from your lunch break your eyes narrowed in on the desk drawer left slightly ajar immediately - your desk was usually meticulously organised - you watched a documentary about decluttered spaces improving productivity (much to the amusement of Namjoon who brushed his own messy habits off as being a sign of “creativity”), so you knew it wasn’t your doing - raising the question of who exactly had the audacity to destroy the harmony of your work space.

The answer was obvious. Nobody else in the office was blatantly bold enough to steal from someone else’s drawer. Except one person in particular, perhaps…

Yes.Your suspicions were confirmed when you peered over your cubicle to glare at Namjoon’s. He was wearing a black shirt today and it stretched deliciously over his broad shoulders, tie resting loosely around the vein in his neck that rose to prominence when he clenched his teeth in concentration, pencil scribbling furiously in the margins of the thick manuscript resting on his crossed knee.

And right next to him, a hot pink stapler balanced haphazardly on a stack of disorganized papers. A hot pink stapler that was absolutely tucked neatly in your drawer before you left for lunch.

Namjoon remained engrossed in his work, unaware of the way your face had begun to heat up with rage. Or maybe the pinkish tinge was a result of the way he pushed his thick framed designer glasses up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger. God he always looked so good in those glasses. Every time he swapped out his contacts you wanted to walk right over there and -

“No,”  You told yourself sternly, biting your lip as you desperately tried to ignore the way your legs had turned to jelly in your shoes. “He’s the worst! You hate him!”

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him…

The same mantra swirled in your head as you took a breath of courage and stalked in the direction of the stapler that rightfully belonged to you. It was about time you stopped taking Namjoon’s shit. It was about time you finally gave him a piece of your mind.

I hate him, I hate him, I…

You reached his desk all too quickly, placing your hands on your hips and staring down at him in a way that you hoped conveyed your vexation. He remained oblivious to your presence for a moment. That was, until, the sound of your exasperated sigh drew his attention, forehead creasing in confusion while he stared straight back at you with lips parted quizzically. Had you caught the Kim Namjoon off guard?

(God, if there was one thing you didn’t hate it was his face.)

You were the one to break the silence. “I told you not to steal my stuff, didn’t I?” His expression remained blank until you pointed a finger at the alarmingly bright office appliance. “I want my stapler back.”

Namjoon’s features shifted into an amused smirk, snickering when you began tapping the toe of your shoe with growing impatience. “I didn’t steal it.” He countered. “I borrowed it.”

“Namjoon, you and I both know you never asked permission,” you huffed, arms crossing your chest. “I think you just wanted to piss me off.”

Namjoon visibly scoffed. “Me? Piss you off?” His eye roll set your pulse racing with rage, only heightened by the sarcasm that laced his tone. “It’s not my fault you’re little Miss Uptight is it?” He shook his head, diverting his attention back to the stack of paper in front of him and just like that he dismissed you with a wave of his hand and a click of his tongue. “Just take it and go, I’m busy.”

“Don’t you dare ignore me, Kim Namjoon,” you spat, curled fist slamming down on top of his booth hard enough to make him jump in his seat, satisfaction spreading through your chest at the sight alone. “I’m not upright! You’re just an asshole who decided to make my job a misery! And for what? Because I’m not at your beck and call like Yuna?”

Oops. Maybe that was a bit too far…

“Yuna?!” Namjoon spluttered between surprised gasps of laughter. “What does she have to do with the fact that you’re a priss who never learned to share?”

You tried to ignore the embarrassing heat that had risen in your face, diverting your eyes from his. “If I’m such a priss why don’t you share her stuff instead?”

He raised his eyebrows at your pout. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“No! Of course not, I’m just…” You trailed off. He leaned back into his seat, the same stupid smug smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. As much as you tried to ignore it, it made your stomach flip. Namjoon looked satisfied, as if your stunned silence and attempt to stutter an excuse was exactly what he wanted.

By this point the entire office was staring at the both of you, including Yuna who looked almost as embarrassed as you did as she pretended to be unaware of the entire situation by rummaging through the contents of her bag for the lip balm she “lost” this morning and conveniently “could not seem to find.”

“Look, Namjoon, just give it back okay?” You nodded towards the stapler, impatient to just be behind your desk booth away from the prying eyes of your coworkers and more importantly away from Namjoon’s accusing gaze.

He ran a hand through his side part, gelled strands effortlessly messy. “Fine.” He grabbed the stapler and held it out to you with an innocent smile. You narrowed your eyes and he simply nodded in encouragement. “Here, take it.”

“See was that so hard-” Before your fingers could take the appliance from his grasp, he ripped it away again. With a dark chuckle he kicked his feet up onto the desk, revealing his annoyingly cute doughnut socks that nearly broke your resolve if it weren’t for the vengeful way he stared at you atop the rim of his glasses.

“Say please, Y/N.”

The glint in his eye tipped you over the edge, the elastic of your patience finally snapping when you launched at him without a second thought about repercussions. “Say please?!” All that mattered right now was making Kim Namjoon pay for being the most inconvenient, bothersome and punchable man on the planet.

Before you could think, both your hands were on the stapler and pulling with all the force you could muster. Namjoon seemed shocked at your brave act of force before he responded with a tug of equal strength, determined not to let go. “If you had said please in the first place we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“So you’re uptight and ill mannered?” He got out between gritted teeth.

“I’m…not…uptight!”

You had begun a tug of war, both unconscious of the fact that twenty pairs of eyes were watching the childish events unfold curiously. Namjoon was red in the face as he tried to rip the stapler from your grasp and you had to lift a shoe onto the seat of his chair to keep your balance.

The move gave you a power advantage and with one last pull, the stapler was yours. Triumph plastered your face in the form of a self-satisfied smile - though not for long. Namjoon was breathing heavily through his nose, knuckles white with irritation. Before he could think better of it, he was sliding the wheels of his chair back, sending you flying into his desk and to both of your dismay, the mug of steaming coffee that sat on top of it.

“Watch out!” Too late.

The crash that followed was loud enough to elicit shocked gasps from those around you. The hushed whispers that filled the room before fell to an eerie silence as you tried to pull yourself to your feet with no luck, collapsing in a pile of splintered wood and printer paper.

“Uhh, Y/N? You’ve got a little coffee on your blouse.”

And that’s how you found yourself on the subway platform, waiting for a train to take you in the opposite direction of home but rather towards the nearest launderette.

You pulled the black blazer you donned tighter around your chest, not because of the evening chill which had set into the air by now but rather to hide the unmistakable brown coffee stain which seeped across the fabric of your blouse.

The launderette was closing in just under an hour and your train was nearly five minutes late already and you couldn’t help but grit your teeth in irritation when you recounted the days events over and over in your head.

This was all his fault. If Namjoon wasn’t such a shameless douche you would be home by now, heels off, feet kicked up while a re-run of The Vampire Diaries soothed the tension ache in your temples.

But no. You were waiting for a train to take you half way across town so you could wash this freaking blouse in time for the weekly company meeting tomorrow. It was an important one - you were going to finally present the pitch you had been working on for nearly four months - so everything had to be perfect.

This job meant everything to you, not that Namjoon would understand that - and you were determined not to let him ruin this for you.

“Damn Kim Namjoon.” you scowled at the ground, kicking an empty can across the scuffed platform floor.

“Either you know another Kim Namjoon or I arrived just in time?”

A familiar voice sounded behind you. Your mouth dropped slightly, icy shock snatching the colour from your face as you registered who it belonged to.

Sure enough, spinning on your heels revealed the one and only Kim Namjoon who you had grown to know and hate. Still in the black shirt which was now rolled up his forearms and loosened at the collar, he stood with his back against a pillar, smiling down at you bemusedly with his hands slung into his pockets like this was the most normal occurrence in the world.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“What?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you haunting me now?”

He actually laughed at that. “Actually, this is my train home. Don’t usually see you here at this time so it seems like you are following me.”

“Following you?!” You couldn’t help the way your voice hitched incredulously, drawing the attention of passerby’s who side stepped around you nervously. “If it wasn’t for your little show today then I’d be on a train travelling as far away from you as possible right now.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I have to go clean this.” You ripped open the front of your blazer revealing the coffee soaked garment covering your chest.

Namjoon bit his cheek to hold back a chuckle. He knew it would just set you off even more. You were a few feet smaller than him and the way you stared up at him with fiery eyes, not quite intimidating despite your best efforts, almost had him clutching his sides.

“As far away from me as possible huh…”

“What?”

“That’s what you want?”

You turned up your nose, confused. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“It’s funny, really.” He let out an amused snort, not at you directly but rather to himself. The act annoyed you even more.

“What is?”

“Just that you never seem to be far away from me at all.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Oh Namjoon stop stealing my shit, oh Namjoon stop using all the printer ink-”

“I’m done with you now.” You turned your back to him, drowning out the tinny voice he used to mock you. He had a fair point…but only because his naturally irritating demeanour drew you into his fuck ups like a magnet.

“Because you think it’s always my fault right? God forbid you are the problem!”

You blinked. You?

“Like when, asshole?” You scoffed. “Name one time I gave you a reason to hate me?”

Namjoon reached into his backpack, pulling out a stack of papers that limply fluttered as a train breezily left the station. The edges were crumpled and the middle stained brown, ink nearly illegible. “You can clean your blouse but how about my manuscript?”

You thought back to earlier that day. It must be the one he was working on before the…accident. And to his credit, it looked like it was in pretty bad shape.

“If you weren’t so hard to ignore then maybe neither of us would be in this mess!”

You could feel the tension rising between you by the minute. If he wasn’t careful you would be responsible for another scuffle and this time you weren’t sure you could resist breaking his nose and a trip to the ER was not what you needed right now.

Namjoon’s face had darkened considerably too. You couldn’t help but find the way he tightened his jaw kind of hot. Stop, Y/N.

“Then let’s make this easier for the both of us.”

“Huh?”

He gestured between you. “When the train comes I will pretend you’re just a pretty girl on her way home and you can pretend I’m just another annoyingly tall guy and we’ll forget this day ever happened.”

“What’s the point of that? We still work together every day?”

He let out a sigh, exasperated by your persistence “Because then we can see who the real problem is? Who starts the next fight?”

"Fine!” The word came out a little more childishly than you had intended. What was his point here? To reinforce the fact that he hated your guts and couldn’t even stand to make small talk on the train for thirty minutes? “And then you’ll see that the whole problem is you.”

Wait….did he call you pretty?

Whatever. You could do this right? He was just trying to get into your head, trying to make you think that you were the issue here.

TRAIN NOW ENTERING PLATFORM. PLEASE MIND THE GAP.

The transport announcement alerted you of the trains arrival a few seconds before the clunky metal could be heard rattling into the station.

You averted his gaze, an uncomfortable atmosphere settling.

“Well, all aboard.” He said, arm outstretched, head nodding towards the open train door as if to say after you.

So now he has manners?

You gave a tight lipped smile in thanks, stepping onto the train. The carriage was completely full, no spare seats in sight, so you settled for holding on to the bar above your head, strategically making sure your back was to Namjoon. You were determined to show him that you couldn’t care less about his existence.

Staying true to his word, Namjoon joined a huddle of people at the opposite end of the carriage, staring sweetly into the distance as if he was utterly unaware of your identity.

You let out a sigh of relief. Maybe this was a good thing.

You attempted to busy yourself by staring out of the window; the trees and the sky whizzed into a turquoise blur like watercolour on canvas. Try as you might, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the figure you wanted to desperately ignore when you noticed Namjoon’s reflection in the glass.

It was silly but you realised you had never looked at him properly before. In your head he was just a target of your rage, a face featuring often in your imagination’s gruesome revenge master plans. But, now felt like the first time you were really seeing him; the way he bobbed his head to the music that blasted a little too loudly through his headphones and how his dimple showed when he smiled politely at other passengers and how his arms cradled the sodden manuscript like it was fine china. Maybe you were too focused on yourself to see just how important this job was to Namjoon, too.

And although you had noticed his face before - it was hard not to - it was always during rushed glances over the top of your office booth, eyes quickly diverting and cheeks reddening when you were sure he caught you looking or when he would break yet another mug in the office kitchen and you would help him clean up the ceramic, ignoring the way his own cheeks turned pinkish.

But this time, through the safety of the glass which acted as a welcome barrier, you could study him more closely. The cute flush of his nose and the way his eyes were a little puffy from staying up too late reading. Maybe there was more to this guy than just an irritating coworker after all.

The train came to a halt and an entourage of fresh passengers pressed into the already tight carriage. A chorus of sorry’s buzzed in the air as more and more people elbowed their way into the confined space, pushing you down the train and squeezing the air out of your lungs until you were pressed into a corner, back uncomfortably flush to the torso of a taller body.

The familiar cologne told you all you needed to know and you shut your eyes tightly, sucking on your teeth as you cursed the universe for shredding whatever dignity you had managed to retain.

A glance over your shoulder revealed a preoccupied Namjoon, desperately apologising to someone behind him whose coffee he managed to spill with his inconveniently pointy elbow.

“I’m so sorry man! Oops..sorry again I…”

“So much for ignoring each other,” you snorted, denying the fact that it was you who bumped into him. You wouldn’t give in so easily.

He looked genuinely apologetic, swinging his arms wildly but only managing to make the situation worse by very nearly smacking an older lady square in the head. His height had its downsides, clearly.

“Sorry…” he began, ready to launch into another apologetic spiel. “Oh.” Except, he deadpanned when he finally looked down and saw none other than yourself staring straight back up at him.

His eyes narrowed smugly. “Well, well, well.”

You simply laughed, nodding towards the evidence of his clumsiness. “Are you on a secret coffee spilling mission today?”

You expected him to throw something back at you, to start another endless fight about who was at fault. Except Namjoon wasn’t listening. His eyes widened comically when he noticed how your lower back pressed into his torso, glancing left then right and sighing nervously when he realised there was no space to squeeze into. He was trapped between you and the wall with no where to go.

“I-it was an accident…” Namjoon seemed sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck anxiously. Why was he so flustered all of a sudden? You’d never seen him like this, so unlike the cocky bastard you’d come to know as Kim Namjoon.

Unless…bingo! You had won. He was the problem and this was proof enough of his clumsy, idiotic ways!

“You should learn to be more careful-”

You were cut short when the train suddenly jerked wildly, sending you flying forwards. Great, you thought, Y/N 0, Balance 2. Your feet fumbled beneath your own weight, eyes screwed shut, bracing for impact against the cold, metal floor of the train.

Before gravity could take hold of you, a large hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you upright. The gesture allowed you to find your balance again, a sigh of relief tumbling from your chest as you gained your bearings.

“Woah there,” Namjoon’s lips were against your ear now, breath hot against your cheek. “What were you saying about being careful?”

“O-oh…” You willed yourself to open your eyes, to ignore the chills that crept up your spine when his nose brushed your hair just barely. You tried to pry yourself out of his hold. “It was an accident, I-”

“Look who came crawling right back. Knew it wouldn’t take long.” There was the cocky bastard again. The underlying implications of his words made you shiver, as if he wanted you to come back. Wanted to punish you for being wrong.

His body was warm - no it was hot, his palm burning the exposed skin of your waist where your blouse had ridden up in the scuffle. You could feel his heart pulse against your back and it took all your self control to stop your body from melting into his sturdy form, from delighting in his embrace. If he were to just move his hands down, down, down…

No! You were not about to imagine the guy you hated with a passion grabbing your ass on the goddamn train.

The train heaved again, Namjoon’s grip tightening even further and you silently thanked him for it as you felt your entire body turn to putty in his grasp. Your hand had found its way to his thigh, squeezing embarrassingly hard and sending your head spinning when you felt the firm muscles that tensed beneath your touch.

If you didn’t know any better you would say you were having the same effect on Namjoon. His lips had fallen dangerously close to your neck, almost as if he was debating pressing them to the flushed skin.

Don’t be ridiculous, you chastised yourself, you just need to get laid, clearly. He’s enjoying this because you’re letting him win.

No matter how much your pride meant to you, his effect was becoming too much.

Enough was enough. You needed to get out of his arms, out of this train and most of all you needed to get him out of your head. You wriggled a little, desperate to free yourself before you literally jumped his bones. Of course you had thought about this before, thought about how it would feel to be pressed up against Namjoon. Except usually there were less clothes separating you and you were at least on a bed…

STOP! YOU HATE HIM, YOU HATE HIM, YOU-

No matter how hard you squirmed, Namjoon’s arms only tightened, holding you to him as the train rattled down the tracks. Your ass was trapped against his thigh and you tried to ignore the pulse in your heat that had begun to alert you of just how good it would feel between your legs.

Just then you felt Namjoon stiffen as your ass glided over his crotch - and if you weren’t so focused on the way his breath ghosted across your neck when you did, you may have missed the way it hitched slightly, almost as if he was swallowing a groan.

“Y/N,” he whispered harshly, as if to issue a warning. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” You spoke a little to loudly, nearly averting the attention of fellow passengers when you tried to claw at the vice like grip that squeezed your middle tightly. “Let me go!”

“Hush.”

“No!” You moved your ass again and this time he let out a noise; a groan of either pain or annoyance, you couldn’t tell.

“Seriously! Hush.”

Suddenly, his fingers gripped your hips so roughly you were sure they would bruise. You enjoyed it a little too much, the action making you light headed. It felt far too intimate to be friendly, only confirmed when you felt it. Something firm against the small of your back.

Was he…hard?

“What the fuck Namjoon?” You whispered hurriedly, glancing around to see if anyone else was aware of the erection that was now all you could focus on, blatantly obvious as it pulsed against the top of your ass.

The train came to a sudden halt, doors swinging open to allow a hoard of people to scramble off. Cool air hit your hot face. Maybe you’d be able to breathe again if you weren’t left breathless by the way Namjoon’s heart beat rapidly against your shoulder blades, all too aware of the raging arousal that felt so hard you imagined it would be painful.

Before you could push away and scream at him about how inappropriate this situation was - even though, to your dismay, your thoughts were clouded with visions far from appropriate - Namjoon was spinning your body around, pinning you against the wall with an audible thud, slotting his body between your trembling legs.

Suddenly, all thoughts of proving him wrong once and for all were forgotten.

You hissed. “Seriously what the fuck Namjoon-”

“What you should be saying,” He muttered, pausing to let his tongue snake out to wet his parted lips. “Is thank you Namjoon.”

“What for?” You gasped, trying and failing once again to wriggle out of his grasp.

His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, glazed over with what you recognised as want. “Thank you for saving my ass when I nearly fell in front of the entire subway.” You swallowed thickly, desperately trying to close your legs to relieve the hot, wet ache that was beginning to throb between them but to no avail, Namjoon keeping them open with a large palm around your inner thigh. “And thank you for not fucking said ass right here against the train door.”

Your head fell back with a slight gasp, choking on a moan that was utterly inappropriate for such a public setting. The train began to move again and you glanced up and down the carriage warily, surprised to see only two young men remained; one engrossed in a comic, the other resting his eyes and thankfully both too occupied to notice the way Namjoon stared at you with a look of arousal so intimidating you had to break away from his stare.

“N-Namjoon we s-shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what baby?” Maybe it was the sudden use of a pet name or the gentle but firm way his thumb stroked your thigh, so close to the lace of your panties you were sure the slight touch alone nearly made you lose it. “Shouldn’t make you wet on the train?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Well I guess you should have thought of that before you got me hard, huh?” You let out a shaky breath, blouse falling down your shoulder slightly but before you could adjust it, Namjoon took the opportunity to place an open mouthed kiss to your collarbone and then to the side of your neck and then to the lobe of your ear. The way his teeth grazed your skin made you shiver, skin burning hot with want against the icy cold metal of the train. “Should’ve thought of that before you got me all worked up at the office today.”

“T-today?”

“Yeah, today.” He shook his head disapprovingly, tilting your chin with his forefinger as his eyes traveled down to your lips. “And every single other fucking day.”

Is that the reason why he was always so pissed?

“When you walk in in that goddamn white blouse and call me out. In front of everyone?” Perhaps you weren’t so subtle after all… “I swear you do it on purpose. I swear you want to make me mad.”

“N-no, I…” Your voice trailed off.

“Is that why you make such a fuss baby?” He continued to interrogate. “This is why you’re a problem,” He hissed under his breath, pressing your palm around his twitching bulge. “Because you are always giving me problems.”

Your eyes widened, arousal guiding your body to palm him through his trousers against the will of resistance from your head.

“Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to fuck you in front of the entire office? How many times I’ve wanted to put you in your fucking place? God you get me so angry sometimes,” He ran an exasperated hand through his hair. Your breathing was ragged now, almost as broken as his. “How many times I’ve jerked off in the bathroom thinking about how hot you look when you’re mad?”

You’d be lying if Namjoon wasn’t the focus of your own fantasies after a couple of glasses of wine and a “pamper night”.

His lips curved up into a smirk as the words made sense in your head, stifling a dark chuckle when your eyes widened in realisation. "So that’s why you’re always riling me up?” You managed to breathe.

“I literally almost blew my load when you stormed out today.” He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. His lips were inches from yours and it was taking everything in you to resist leaning in and connecting them, focusing on the throb in your heat instead as a distraction. “You seriously don’t know anything, do you?”

The train came to a sudden stop, doors ripping open almost as fast as Namjoon jumped away from your body. His absence left a cold void where he had hovered over you and you shakily stood upright, glancing at the floor to avoid any funny looks from the passengers leaving the train. You watched as four pairs of shoes scuffled off, heart beating a little faster now you were completely alone.

A few moments passed in silence and you didn’t dare look at Namjoon. You were still trying to wrap your head around his admission. Namjoon’s asshole behaviour was a ploy to make you mad? On purpose? Because he wanted you?

The doors slammed shut, train moving again with a clunk and before you could register what was happening, Namjoon was on you again, dragging you towards the row of seats that were now completely empty. You had the entire carriage to yourselves and Namjoon was clearly intent on taking advantage of the fact.

You were straddling him in seconds, his hands sliding down to cup your ass as he held your heat directly above his throbbing bulge. You gasped at the contact, feeling the way your panties clung to your sticky heat while you desperately tried to grind down onto his lap, eager for any form of relief.

Namjoon tutted at this, prompting you to raise your gaze from between your legs to take in the lazy smile that rested upon his face. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? To see you all needy above me?”

He was right, you were so needy it felt like you might combust if you didn’t get some friction on your throbbing clit right now, uncaring that you were in public. His throat sounded hoarse, evidence of his own struggle to resist you (if the tent in his pants wasn’t already evidence enough) and the broken sound of his voice alone was enough to have you clenching around nothing.

It was rare that someone managed to get you this riled up this quickly. It was as if the tension that had been building between you finally reached its breaking point and the only logical response was to fuck it out. Hard. Still, if someone had told you an hour ago that you would be close to begging Namjoon of all people to touch you, you would have called them crazy.

Your forehead came down to rest against his shoulder in defeat. His grip was too strong, stopping you from getting what you wanted, and you let out a cry of frustration. “Please…”

“Please what, baby? Use your words.”

“Please…” Your voice was muffled by his black shirt which you tugged at eagerly. “Please fuck me.”

For the first time, Namjoon’s resolve broke and he let out a guttural moan at your words. He didn’t have time to respond before the train jerked again, sending you flying into his chest and to your delight, straight onto his crotch. “Ugh, fuck.” The whine that left your lips made Namjoon’s cock throb painfully against the front of his trousers, his own moan muffled by your hair.

Before you could twist your hips and gain any friction, Namjoon was hoisting you up again, higher this time so he could see the fucked out look on your face. He brushed a few stray hairs behind your ears, watching smugly as you ground against the air with another high pitched whine.

“Look at you. So fucked out and I’ve hardly even touched you.” His hands crept to the hem of your skirt, tugging the garment up so that it sat around your waist, exposing the curve of your ass and the black lacey underwear which nearly made him buck up into your heat. “Want my cock so bad baby?” His hand came down against your ass with an audible slap you were sure would leave a print and you had to bite your hand hard to stop from crying out too loudly. “Mmm, fuck, I wanted to make you wait,” he hummed. “Like I waited to be inside you but…if you want it how about you show daddy how much?”

He nodded for you to get on your knees. You mewled with delight, nearly drooling at the thought of his hot cock sliding in and out of your mouth. The thought of finally pleasuring him.

Your fingers eagerly began to fiddle with the fly of his trousers before one of his big palms stopped your ministrations all together. You looked up at him, confused and frustrated. “Not yet baby. Gotta open wide for daddy first.”

He pressed two fingers to your swollen lips and you sucked them into your hot mouth eagerly, wrapping your tongue around the digits and coating them in a layer of saliva like they were the sweetest popsicle you’d ever tasted. His fingers were salty with sweat but you didn’t care, taking them as far as you could while batting your eyelids at him in a silent beg for something else in your throat.

Namjoon melted into the headrest, completely fucked out as he watched you take his fingers through lidded eyes. He could hardly bare the way his digits disappeared in and out of your mouth, already aching to feel the sensation on his needy cock.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he choked, leaving a loud slap to your ass that flushed at the contact. “I nearly came in my pants.”

You pulled his hand away at the wrist leaving a trail of saliva down your chin. “You could come down my throat if you let me open your p-pants.”

Namjoon squeezed his eyes shut, pulling both your wrists behind your back roughly as the other pushed you down onto your knees until you were eye level with the bulge in his pants. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean,” he nearly stammered. “You’ll regret it.”

“I mean it.” You made quick work of his zipper, palming his hardness through the fabric of his boxers. “Please l-let me suck your cock.” You almost cringed at the words that came out of your mouth, washed in pure disbelief that you were actually on your knees in front of THE Kim Namjoon.

“Then suck.” Disbelief didn’t last for long since his command emptied your mind, losing the ability to think about anything else other than wrapping your lips around him immediately.

Namjoon placed both hands behind his head, resting against the train which vibrated beneath your knees, sending shocks of pleasure through your core when it made light contact.

Without further ado you reached into the open fabric of his pants, hand finally wrapping around something rock hard and blazing hot against your clammy palm, eliciting a hiss from Namjoon at he skin on skin contact. “Finally.” He groaned.

You were unaware of the whimper which left your own lips when Namjoon’s cock finally came into view, heavy against his stomach and raging with desperation to be touched. He was decently long but it was the thickness that made your eyes pop, mouth opening in anticipation and crotch grinding against the ground as you imagined how good it would feel when it finally stretched you out.

Without warning you were running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, enjoying the shaky breath Namjoon let slip when your hand fondled his balls firmly. You gave a few kitten licks to his swollen head, relishing the salty taste of precum that spread across your taste buds.

Your lips wrapped around the tip, sucking gently before sinking further down his length, letting the spit that had begun to fill your mouth cover his cock nicely so he slipped between your lips messily. Namjoon nearly went crazy when you hollowed your cheeks, hands tangling in your hair and making you groan out, desperate for him to take control. To use you.

“Mmmf, fuck yes,” he stammered, barely controlling his hips from bucking into your throat. “Just like that, there’s a good girl.” He pushed your head firmly down his shaft before tugging you off again, the head of his dick barely brushing against your reddened lips. You moaned in approval as he fucked your face, dizzy with the feeling of the ridges of his length on your tongue and his hands in your hair.

Just as you were taking him back into your mouth, the train rocked violently and you found yourself taking more of his cock than you anticipated, the head hitting your throat and making you gag obscenely around his length. Namjoon flew forward, unable to hold back the deep moan that rumbled from his chest when he felt your nose against his public bone. “Fuck baby girl, do that again.”

You obliged, taking him all the way until you gagged.

“So hot, fuck.”

You didn’t know if he was referring to your mouth or the way you dribbled down your own chin, tears pricking your eyes and leaking onto your flushed cheeks as you tried to breathe through your nose when he held you for a few seconds too long at the base of his dick. You pulled off with a pop, gasping for air.

“Sorry,” he panted apologetically. “Got a bit carried away.”

“It’s okay.” You gasped between breaths, wiping your chin with the back of one hand and pumping his slick length with the other, palm sliding lewdly against the sensitive head where your mouth had been. And you meant it - it was okay. You wanted this. Maybe you had just been denying it all along.

“Shit!” Before you could wrap your lips around him again, Namjoon was slapping your hand away, shoving himself back into his pants and pulling you up by your elbow.

“What?” You asked, surprised at his rejection of your mouth. “What is it?”

“Train’s stopping,” He hissed back. “People getting on.”

Sure enough, the doors swung open, allowing a hoard of people to board the train. You pulled your skirt around your ass hurriedly, hoping the disheveled state of your hair and swollen lips wouldn’t give away your arousal to the prying eyes of other passengers.

You kept your eyes on your shoes, waiting for the crowd to seat themselves around yourself and Namjoon before you dared meet his eyes again. He smirked, tugging his tie to hang loose around his neck and the action alone had you rubbing your legs together for relief, glancing around nervously to see if anybody caught your blatant show of arousal.

The train started up again and you reached for the bar above you hurriedly, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself by losing your footing for a fourth time that day.

Fortunately, Namjoon came to your rescue again, pulling you into his lap with a plop. Your heat grazed his thigh, sopping folds only separated by the thin layer of your sticky panties and you were sure you would draw blood which how hard you bit back the loud moan that almost left your lips.

“Can’t stay on your feet today, huh?” He clicked his tongue, breath hot against your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Your chest swelled when he rested his chin on your shoulder. The embrace felt nice.

“Guess I prefer being on my knees when you’re around.” Namjoon’s breath hitched, jaw tightening against your neck.

“Is that so?” Before you could respond he was slotting his leg between your thighs, tensing the muscles to create some friction against your pulsing clit. The action offered welcome relief, your folds begging to be touched in any way after what felt like hours of denial. “Move.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, grinding slowly onto the thighs you had dreamed about ever since Namjoon walked into the office months ago.

You moved your hips in slow circles, the coarse fabric of Namjoon’s trousers rubbing your heat in just the right way that had you breathing deeply as you tried to stop yourself from losing control and sitting on his cock then and there in front of everyone.

The fact that you were surrounded by people was exhilarating, the idea that someone could look over any second and see you creating a wet patch on Namjoon’s lap making you dizzy with lust.

Namjoon’s fingers grazed your arms gently, working you through the pleasure as he tensed his thigh again and again, pressure on your clit causing broken moans to catch in your throat. At this point you were completely gone, everything around you unimportant as you focused on chasing the feeling building in your lower stomach.

Suddenly, Namjoon grabbed your hips, stilling your ministrations despite the hushed whine of protest you directed at him as discreetly as you could. “Please.” You whispered, tears threatening to prick your eyes as you felt the feeling of your high getting further and further away with every second your core throbbed still against his legs. You were so desperate you would have done anything to reach it, tired and frustrated of being denied any pleasure.

“Hush baby girl,” Namjoon’s thumbs gently caressed your waist. “Take this off, such a good girl for me hmm?” He began tugging at the blazer that covered your shoulders, dragging it down your arms and throwing it over your lap instead.

Embarrassment flushed your cheeks when you looked down at the the coffee stain on your blouse, visible to everyone and anyone now Namjoon removed the thing covering it. “N-namjoon my blouse-”

“Shhh,” he hushed, tucking your hair behind your ear so you could hear his gravelly whispers clearly. “Let me make you feel good.”

“W-what…oh!” Your eyes bulged with surprise when you felt Namjoon’s fingers slip beneath the blazer that hid his wandering hands from prying eyes, toying with the top of your panties teasingly. “Namjoon! W-we can’t-”

His index finger slipped beneath the fabric, finding your clit immediately and rubbing hard, fast circles into the swollen nub. “So wet baby, so good.”

Arousal dripped from his voice and you let your head fall back onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as his fingers worked you up into a squirming mess on top of him. If anyone sees they’ll just think you’re resting your eyes, you managed to convince yourself, all rational thoughts lost to the feeling of Namjoon sliding up and down your folds.

You let out a breathy oh when you felt his finger circle your entrance. “Joon,” you warned. If he filled you with even one finger you were sure you would cum on the spot in front of the whole train.

He smiled against your neck, at your neediness or the nickname you couldn’t tell before he was pushing two fingers into your heat to the knuckle. You were wet enough for them to slide straight in, cold metal of the pretty rings he always donned rubbing your walls deliciously and making you grind down onto his hand. His thumb found your clit and you dug your nails into his thighs, panting obviously now as you tried to hold on to what was left of your sanity.

“I-I can’t,” you gasped, noticing the sideways glances you were getting from the couple sat opposite you. They must have known what was going on. They must have known Namjoon was knuckle deep into your wetness as you clenched around him desperate for release, coil tightening more and more in your belly.

You were so wet that every thrust of his hand made a lewd squelch, an instant give away of Namjoon’s affect on you and you prayed the loud screech of the train’s wheels against the track was enough to hide it from the other passengers.

Namjoon was going faster now, leaving small kisses against the nape of your neck as he tried to hold it together. Until, finally, he couldn’t anymore. “I can’t n-need more.” You felt something in him snap at your keening, his hand leaving you clenching around nothing all of a sudden as he tugged your skirt back around your thighs.

“Wha-” You didn’t have time to finish before Namjoon was jerking you to your feet, shoving the forgotten manuscript from earlier into your hands as he pushed you towards the train bathroom. He kept his crotch pressed tightly against your ass, probably to hide his raging arousal from the people around you although his less than subtle way of maneuvering you both into the same bathroom stall gave it away instantly.

The door slammed behind you a little too loudly, making you wince. “Fuck Namjoon, now everyone knows.” You whined, allowing him to push you until the backs of your legs gave in, your ass falling aginst the sink. The bathroom was cramped, barely enough room for the two of you, so Namjoon went about making the best of the space by hovering over you with the same feverish want he had earlier except this time he couldn’t control the way his hands trembled as he eagerly ripped your coffee stained blouse open.

He let out a gasp when he finally got his hands under neath your bralette, thumbs sliding across your agonisingly hard buds in circles until you were squirming to feel his hands everywhere, anywhere. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.” You couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face, something funny flipping in your stomach that was more than just arousal. Before you could worry if his heavy palms felt the way your heart beat a little faster at his words, his lips were skimming tantalisingly across the top of your breasts, finally unhooking your bra. Your head fell back in a choked gasp when his teeth grazed your nipples momentarily before he was swirling his tongue across them, soothing the sting that felt deliciously cold despite the hot and musky bathroom air.

You felt his lips begin the journey down, not quite reaching your belly button with his surprisingly gentle ministrations before your hands were tangling in the collar of his shirt and pulling him up to meet your eyes again. Your nipples rubbed against the coarse fabric and you fiddled with the buttons, desperate to feel his sweaty skin against yours. Your hot breath mingled. “Namjoon,” You managed to pant. “Let me see you too.”

His touch still lingered on your chest when he brushed your roaming hands away to replace them with his own, buttons quickly flying open allowing more skin to come into view beneath the dim lights. You couldn’t help but let your hands snake across his toned chest, sighing in delight when he lets you shake the shirt from where it still sat around his shoulders. You were pleasantly surprised to find his tummy soft, a perfect contrast to his muscular upper body.

He raised your gaze with a finger beneath your chin, pausing for a moment to run a questioning glance from your lips to your eyes and back to your lips. “Can I?”

You almost choked on your own spit, practically salivating to feel his lips against your own. “Kiss me?” You murmured. “Please.”

Namjoon took no time to oblige, finally crashing your lips together in a tangle of teeth and tongue. A wave of relief emptied your mind of anything other than the feeling of Namjoon’s body finally melting against your own and you realise you’ve been waiting for this - no needed this -  for longer than you originally thought. Namjoon smiled into the kiss and you felt your heart swell a little, his nose brushing your own gently in contrast to the way his hands greedily grabbed your ass. His lips were slightly chapped as they roughly caressed your own and you sighed contentedly into the kiss, tangling one hand in his hair, the other slipping down to the buckle of his belt.

His tongue finally gained permission, slipping into your mouth as you made work with the button of his trousers. You could barely focus, Namjoon’s lips all you could feel. Trousers now at his ankles, you fumbled to slip your hand beneath the waistband of his grey boxer briefs, eyes widening at the groan which rumbled from Namjoon’s chest into your mouth when your small hand finally wrapped around his pulsing length skin-on-skin.

You almost whimper at how hot and heavy he is in your palm, even harder than before if that was possible, the wetness smeared around his head evidence of just how worked up he was. His mouth stilled against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to resist bucking into your hand. The knowledge that it was you that made him this hard, you that had him breathless against your lips sent another rush to your own heat.

Then he’s kissing you again, softly this time as his hand comes to rest on top of your own. “Wait, wait.” He murmurs between crashes of your lips. “I want to feel you before I come.”

You reluctantly retract your hand, agreeing that you wanted- needed - to feel him and quickly because quite honestly you were close already. Just his lips were enough, just wondering how they would feel around your clit and how good his tongue would be as it licked a stripe up your pulsing folds was almost enough to throw you into sensory overload.

“Can I take these off?” His thumbs hooked beneath the band of your panties. He looked at you with a genuine concern and you thought it was sweet. Namjoon was in control but he asked with a sincerity that said your comfort was important to him and it made something feel right about this, something safe. You gave his nose a kiss in affirmation, nodding gently. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Namjoon placed small, affectionate pecks to the corners of your mouth as he rolled the garment down your legs, letting you kick them all the way off as he rubbed gentle circles into your thighs. His eyes were still black with lust but they seemed gentle as he sucked in a breath, taking you in fully for the first time. It was almost easy to forget that this was the same guy who made you suck his cock on a public train fifteen minutes ago.

He connected your lips again in a soft, slow kiss, hand cupping your face as his thumb ran across your bottom lip. “You know, I envisioned it to be more romantic than…this.” He gestured to the dingy bathroom you’d almost forgotten existed, too busy getting lost in Namjoon. “Sorry…” He bit his lip, eyes averting your own bashfully.

Your heart swelled with more than just arousal.

“Namjoon?” He looked up at you again through his lashes. “There will be plenty of time for that. For romance.” A small smile crept onto your face.

“Yeah?” Namjoon’s grin gave away his elation at your statement.

“Yeah,” Your voice was but a breath. “For now though I just need you inside me.”

Namjoon’s arms scooped you up, slamming you against the wall for the second time that day and knocking away your breath as he wrapped your leg around his waist. “That I can do.” He hummed against your neck mischievously.

By now your heat was dripping, wetness making its way down your inner thighs as you braced yourself for the fullness of Namjoon’s cock. He felt girthy in your hand and your hole clenched at the thought of it stretching you open.

The small room was stuffy, barely enough shared air to breathe but that made it all the more intimate. Hands woven into his hair, you felt the way his chest rose and fell against your own as he took his length into his hand, guiding the blunt head to your entrance. He seemed pained as he squeezed the base of his cock, hesitating. “Are you…?”

“We’re good. On the pill.” You got out between laboured breaths of anticipation. “Wait!” You pushed his chest, his face coming into view, laced with worry as he searched your face for any sign of indecision. “What about Yuna?”

His eyes practically bulged before he let out a small chuckle at your concern. “Yuna?”

“Yeah…won’t she be mad?”

“Why would she be?”

“Aren’t you two like…you know?”

Namjoon spluttered. “No! Don’t you think her girlfriendwould be kinda mad if we were?”

Oh. Oh.

“I-”

“Y/N, she was just a way to you know…make you jealous. Truthfully, I was pissed, you wouldn’t even look my way and -”

You cut him off with a peck to his lips. “Okay. It’s okay.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. Now for god’s sake, just fuck me please.”

“With pleasure.”

The head of his cock was back again and you circled your hips, desperate to feel more of it inside of you. Namjoon pressed in slowly, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he finally bottomed out, low moans escaping his lips at the feeling of your tight, velvety walls finally rubbing deliciously against his shaft.

The head of his cock instantly brushed against your sweet spot, sending shivers of pleasure through your heat as you scratched his back wildly. “Please…please ugh! Move!”

Namjoon wasted no time, dragging out nearly all the way before slamming back in to the hilt with a lewd slap. Your folds were so wet each thrust made an embarrassingly loud squelch you were sure could be heard from outside but the way his cock was thick enough to stretch you out just the way you liked it and long enough to hit deeper than his fingers had earlier rendered you uncaring and speechless.

The pleasure was almost unbearable and you could feel your muscles clenching around him, drawing out a strangled moan against your neck. The action was enough to make him lose all control as he lifted your leg, pressing you into the wall with all his weight and slamming into you at a new angle that gave him access to your clit every time he bottomed out, making you scream with pleasure into the palm of his hand.

“Shit, Y/N,” He hissed, watching through lidded eyes as you lost it beneath him. “You’re going to make me cum if you keep making noises like that. Fuck!” Namjoon was getting sloppy now, barely able to keep his pace as he desperately tried to cling on to the edge while each of your whines made his cock feel like it may explode any second.

“Mmm, cum for me,” you moan, completely lost to the feeling of his hot cock sliding lewdly in and out of you. “Wanna feel you fill me up.”

“Holy fuck,” he stuttered, nearly falling out of you as the pleasure overwhelmed him. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this, being inside you, god.”

So he gets loose lipped when he’s close, huh? Cute.

“Want you to cum with me, fuck.”

His dirty admissions were enough to send you flying over the edge with a cry, his fingers coming between your legs to rub agonising circles into your clit as you rode out your high. Your vision went black, legs trembling and if it weren’t for Namjoon’s strong grip on your thighs you were sure you would nothing but a puddle by now.

“Fuck you got so tight, that’s it. Come for me baby.” A few sloppy strokes later and he was coating your walls with a low groan, connecting your lips in a breathless kiss as you whimper at the feeling of being filled and the overstimulation.

Namjoon presses his sweat slicked forehead against your own as you let your breath mingle, coming down from your highs. As your vision slowly returned, the train jerked, nearly sending you both flying if Namjoon wasn’t there to save you once again.

“Woah there.” He said quietly with a smile. He connected your lips for the nth time and you decided that although it was new you actually - no definitely - liked it. “Be careful.”

You were about to say something playful back before a transport announcement crackled over head.

TRAIN TERMINATING AT NEXT STOP.

You broke away from the kiss with a groan. “Shit shit shit! I’ve missed my stop!”

Breaking away from his grasp you hurriedly try to button up your coffee stained blouse, glancing around to locate your underwear which was out of sight.

“Looking for these?” A piece of fabric hit your chest. Your panties.

His calm demeanour was enough to replace the post orgasmic glow with a familiar feeling of rage towards him.

“Yes I was looking for those - and this is all your fault! If you didn’t take them off in the first place I wouldn’t be in this mess and this stupid fucking blouse would be clean and-”

Namjoon cut you off by pulling you against his chest, peppering your face in playful kisses as you tried to squirm out of his grasp. You gave up eventually, enjoying the warmth of his bare chest and nearly giggling with surprise when he placed a peck to both your cheeks.

“You…are…so…fucking���cute…when…you’re…mad.” Each word was punctuated with a kiss and you hit him away playfully.

His sudden change in behaviour took you by surprise. You had never seen this side of him before. A side that wasn’t a complete and utter dick (or in more recent discoveries, a possessive, rough love maker).

“I recall you saying I was hot when I was mad.”

“Yeah, but you’re also really fucking cute.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him with a pout. “See cute.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, earning a chuckle as he began to buckle his own trousers. “You know, the next stop is mine so you could always just come back to my place?”

“Huh?”

A blush crept onto his face as he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that…unless you wanted to- no! What I meant was, you could come to my place and I could wash your blouse for you.”

You finished tidying up your skirt, watching with amusement as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t have enough spare cash for a taxi.”

“I’ll drive you home!” He said quickly. “You know, if you want me to…”

“Okay.” You said with a small smile. “Besides, I think I kind of owe you.” You nod towards the pityful remains of Namjoon’s manuscript which lay sodden in the sink, discarded at some point during your excitement earlier.

“Then this makes us even.”

“Deal.”

“Now, let’s hope the train is empty and if it’s not, get ready to run!”

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#254

"Well lookie here. I have my captain kneeling completely naked in front of me, eagerly wanting to submit to me and my hose. You ready to be my cunt? I see you follow orders, shaved from the nose down. I knew just how much you want this when I saw your beard you’ve had for years now was gone this morning. I can tell you want this so fucking bad. I just didn’t know you had wanted me for so many years….

“When I caught you on my hidden camera stealing my jocks from my locker, I thought you did it to all the guys here. I didn’t realize just how much of a stalker you were until I read your e-mail. When I asked you how long this has been going on, I was referring to the jock snatching. I wasn’t expecting a two-thousand-word history of you stalking me for the past twelve years. It’s extra creepy to find out that on my trip to California, that you had your friend follow me around and hit on me at the baths. If you wanted my fat cock that much, you could have just asked. I would have been fucking you two or three times a week. Instead, whenever I would get horned up from being around all these beefy men for too long, I had to go into the toilet and toss one off.

“I bet you want to see it. Don’t you? I mean you’ve seen it before, at the urinals, but never hard. Your friend sure has. So you know I am big I truly am. Fuck, you couldn’t stop talking about it in your write-up. And you are already salivating at my stripping to my skivvies. My briefs show a big ol’ package. I never try to hide it. I’ve been wearing these briefs for five days now, ever since I confronted you about stealing from my locker.

“See all those piss stains? There are a few loads too. I figure that a cunt that’s been lusting after me all these years is going to do whatever the fuck I want. Right now, that includes drinking some of my piss. But first grind your face into my pouch; I want you to feel the monster that is going to be the center of your universe. With the focus on my big dick, you probably didn’t notice I have balls to match. They need to be drained frequently.

“Go ahead and pull down the briefs, slowly. Take a moment to smell the piss, the stale cum, and the sweat. That’s better than any poppers out there. Pull them all the way down, and hand them to me…. Whew! I stink.

“Hands behind your back. Now with just the tip of your tongue, I want you to guide just my dickhead into your mouth. Do not suck. Do not take more of my shaft. You will be doing both later. Right now, I need to take a piss. Close your mouth around the head and start drinking. I have a full bladder, and I know how to control the flow.

“Oh, fuck this feels good. You’ve drank piss before. Nice tongue action too. I will be using that tongue for a nastier place later. I take it from your moan that you eat ass? Good. I will be using your mouth as my urinal from this day forward. I am not passing up a talented mouth.

“Pull off. I said pull off. I have a lot of piss for you, and I will be spreading it out. It’s a good thing that you were able to get the firehouse cleared out for the rest of the night. Being captain will have its advantages.

“Stand up and over to the bench…. Wait! Holy shit! Ha! Oh my fucking god. That is one tiny needle of a dick. Jesus! What the hell do you do with that? You certainly can’t use it to fuck. How long is it? I mean it is rock hard and it can’t be three inches at most!... What was that? Two and a half? No wonder your ex-wife left you last year for Davies over at the 9th. Don’t look surprised, we all knew she did. None of us knew about this.

“Trust me, your little clit will never be needed around me. In fact, I don’t want to think about it; don’t want to see it either. I mean look at the difference between yours and mine. It’s a goddamned laugh riot.

“I may only be about 7 inches long, but between 8 and 9 inches around. I have met many men that are longer, but I have never met one who is thicker. We’ll need to get a pic of yours being dwarfed by mine later.

“But first, my cock has wrecked many throats, and it has destroyed many ass cunts. Yours is next. I have something for you to put on. Here are ankle and wrist cuffs. Cunts like you have big eyes and small twats…. Good! Now on the bench face down…. With a couple of D-clamps, you ain’t going to be using your arms and legs too much. Struggling is good, but nothing is going to stop my tree trunk impaling your cunt.

“Open your mouth. Remember my rank briefs. You can suck on them now. That wad doesn’t come out until I say it does, you got that? You are giving me a sour look, like you’re tasting something foul. My skid marks must be on your tongue. Oh well.

“You are really looking forward to this, aren’t you? Have you been fantasizing about how my cock will feel pushing in and stretching your cunt? Have you been thinking about it for all these years? Shake your head. Good! Thought so. And in a few minutes my load is going to flood your hole.

“Damn, that is one nice ass. Push up and show me your cunt. Damn, it’s so cute. Feel my battering ram thump it. That will get you tingling. My cock is so thick and your hole is so small, it’s like I am taking your virginity from you a second time.

“Ok flat on the bench. I need to lay on top of you. My hairy chest feels nice on your smooth back. I’m a big guy, and I weight a lot; I know. The moment you have been dreaming of for the past decade or so is about to happen.

“Lift your head. I need to put my forearm on the bench. Do you feel my stache on your cheek? Good. Focus on what I am saying. Listen up. I own you. From this point on, I control everything in your life. I control your ass, your dick, and your mouth. I decide when you have sex, and what man gets to fuck you. I control when you cum which will be seldom if ever, when you piss, and when you shit. I control what you eat and what you drink. Hell. I even control when you breathe.

“You know what I learned when I went to California? You know, the one you had your friend try to pick me up? I met up with a bud that is a motorcycle riding California Highway Patrol officer.

“Quit squirming. I know it’s hard to breathe with 240 pounds of a real man on top of you. That Office showed me how to use my bicep and forearm in a way that puts pressure on both sides of your neck, cutting off much needed oxygen. Go ahead try to fight back. It’s pointless you know.

“Your struggling has gotten my dick leaking. Do you feel my pre-cum running down the crack of your ass? Probably not. You’re too busy trying to get your next gasp of oxygen. Your red face is telling me that you don’t care about your ass right now. Just a few seconds more. Shhh shhh shhh shhh. It will be over in a minute….

“Or less it seems. And you are out cold. Now my cock will slide in easily. Oh yes it does! Fuck! Your hole is like silk. It’s not going to take me long. I’ve been wanting to fuck this cunt for years. I would never tell you that while you are awake. I can’t wait until I got your ass trained to take me without having to knock you out first. I plan on going for hours when that happens.

“Oh fuck this isn’t going to take long. I got a big fucking load that’s going to be shot in deep. Here it comes. Take it you fucking cunt. Urg! Fuck! Urg! Uh! Uh! Ahh!

“Fuck I needed that. You are breathing. Let’s get my briefs out. You have a minute or two to come to. I don’t have to tell you to lay still. I got some pissing to do. Oh that feels nice. My piss filling you up good. When you wake up, fuck, you are going to be bursting.

“I know, my briefs will make a good plug,… for now.

“Lookie there! You are waking up. Good. I’ll give you a few moments. Let me get those cuffs off of you. Wake up. You are at the station. Captain, you remember?... Good! Here’s some water…. Are you with me yet? Do you remember being naked in front of me begging for my cock? That brought a smile to your face. You are back! Just look at my cock now. It’s covered in your ass slime.

“Yeah, I fucked you. Sucks for you that you were out cold. But hey! It was great…. You even have a quart of my piss in there too…. Don’t believe me? When you go to take a shit, pull my briefs out of your ass and a torrent of my piss is going to come pouring out. Yup! Let me just say that unconscious holes offer no resistance.

“Stick out your tongue. I said stick out your fucking tongue. You are going to clean up your mess on my dick. Start with sticking my head in. I got to finish peeing. You were getting too full, and I had to stop.

“Oh yeah, there’s that tongue again. You are going to be a good cunt for me. Oh yeah, this is going to happen again. Remember I own you. And not just as some sex object, but I will control you here at the station. You may be captain around here, but I will be calling the shots. First thing is that I think it’s time for you to think about retirement at the same time get me ready for a promotion, don’t ya think?”

[misslilli]

It'll get better soon guys, don't worry 🤗

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 24 - It Takes A Village

[ Felix ]

It’s close to December and my favorite holiday is coming up fast, the lights are already up all around town and in school we make paper snowmen and sing Christmas songs. It’s supposed to be the most cheerful time of the year, but people in my life are sad, which in turn also puts a damper on my Christmas spirit.

Dad is not doing very well, he’s working all the time and doesn’t say much, he just goes through the motions of our day. One day, he just forgets to pick me up from school because he has worked through the night and fell asleep at the dining room table during the day.

Principal Skinner can’t reach him or my mom, who is in Europe right now, so he calls my other emergency contact, my grandma. I don’t know what exactly he tells her, but she’s coming all the way from Connecticut and the Principal will drive me home to check on my dad.

I’m excited that grandma’s coming, she’s really awesome! She’s straightforward and very, very strict and doesn’t like to cuddle, much, but her no-nonsense way of running a household may be exactly what we need right now. And she also makes a mean lasagna!

When we get to the house, dad is beside himself, apologizing to us over and over again for falling asleep and he looks a little relieved when Principal Skinner tells him that grandma is coming over to help.

I launch myself at her - I’m permitted exactly two hugs, one hello and one goodbye - when she walks through the door and immediately try to get her to make lasagna for dinner. She sends me up to my room to play for a bit, while she talks to dad and cleans up the mess in the kitchen. Afterwards, she really makes lasagna, yes!

——————

[ Teena ]

When I got the call from Principal Skinner, I was very worried about what I’d find when I got to the house, I’ve been called to pick up the pieces only once before.

It was after Diana left Fox and Felix and what I found then was a disoriented and confused three-year old who kept asking for his mom and a devastated dad and husband, unable to care for his child in his own heartbreak.

Thankfully, it’s not that bad this time, but I can tell that something has happened. Fox has been avoiding my calls for weeks now, only having Felix talk to me over the phone. I know that Sam knows something, but she wouldn’t tell me no matter how hard I pressed.

So the first thing I do when I get to the boys’s house is send Felix off to his room and sit down my son onto the couch to talk.

“Tell me what happened, Fox.”

And he goes on to me the whole story, from the first day of school where he met a woman that had upended both of their lives, to the birthday party - Sam has actually told me about that one, I thought it was a really sweet story - and the Halloween fair right up until the Basketball fiasco and the last time he saw her, where she asked him to give her some space until she has figured some things out.

“What do I do now mom? I hate myself for scaring her off like that and I can’t stop the tailspin of thinking I’m not good enough for her anyway, with that broken mess that’s our family…”

“I’ll tell you what to do now. You give her space like she asked you to and you get your act together in the meantime. Felix needs you to take care of him, it won’t do to wallow in self-pity. And ask yourself this: How can you expect someone to love you if you don’t love yourself? Go see Connie and fix your self-worth issues because you’re a good man and you absolutely deserve someone who makes you happy.”

“Thanks mom, for everything. I’ve already scheduled extra therapy lessons with Connie. You know what makes this whole thing even harder? I have to see her every damn day at school when I pick up Felix.”

“I’ll pick him up from now on. You focus on yourself, without distractions.” Maybe I’ll even get to meet her, I’m fairly curious about this Rainbow Woman myself.

—————

[ Felix ]

At recess in school, everyone’s on their best behavior, holding their collective breaths because Miss Scully is in a bad mood today. Actually, she’s been irritable for the past two weeks, with a very short fuse and absolutely no tolerance for disobedience.

Since her classroom is right next to ours, we can sometimes hear her yell at her kids for something or other and even our class flinches when it happens.

Right now, she’s over at the playground, leaning into two boys who have gotten into a fist-fight over a game of tag and I’m silently glad I’m sitting over here with Miss Anderson. I look up at my teacher, curious.

“Miss Anderson, why is Miss Scully so angry all the time?”

“I can’t tell you, Felix, I’m sorry.”

“Because you don’t know, or because you don’t want me to know?” When she changes the subject pointedly, I know it’s the second one. ‘Ugh, why don’t adults tell children anything, it’s driving me crazy! Dad won’t tell me anything and now this.’

Grandma picks me up again today and on our way to the car, we run into Miss Scully. 'Uh oh, I hope she doesn’t go off on grandma, I don’t think that will go over very well.’ My grandma can be scary sometimes, too!

“Hey Miss Scully, this is my grandma, she’s staying with us for a while now! Grandma, this is Miss Scully, she’s the fourth-grade teacher.”

——————

[ Teena ]

I’m happy to see that my son has raised Felix to be a polite child when he introduces the tiny red-head I’ve heard so much about.

“Grandma’s not actually my name, Felix. I’m Teena Mulder, it’s nice to meet you Miss Scully!” Holding out my hand, I try to seize her up.

Her handshake is firm and her posture is ram-rod-straight, all professional, but her eyes betray her poised exterior, because I can see flashes of sadness when she looks down at Felix. I can only guess that she’s not having an easy time with everything, herself.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Mulder. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got an appointment to get to. I’ll see you tomorrow, Felix. Goodbye, Mrs. Mulder.”

With that, she’s off to get her bike and Felix breathes a sigh of relief.

“Whew, thank God, she didn’t get mad at you like she got mad at the two boys at recess today.”

I’m a bit puzzled by his odd statement, but on the car ride, he tells me all about the incident in great detail. I get the feeling that these stories are a staple in the boys’s days and I can begin to understand why my son would rather not hear Felix go on and on about what she did and what she said right now.

—————

[ DS ]

My therapist has told me that it has to get worse before it gets better, but this is getting ridiculous. I can’t sleep more than a few hours at night, which leaves me irritable in the morning and with an incredibly short fuse at school, going off on my kids for the littlest infractions.

They’re so terrified and confused, they end up making even more mistakes, which in turn sets me off even more - it’s a vicious circle that leaves me frustrated with myself and more times that I’d like to admit to, I’ve lost it in the teacher’s bathroom.

Meeting Mrs. Mulder today was unexpected and I tried hard to keep it together for a few minutes, but I can’t stand looking at Felix’s innocent face for a longer period of time, so I bolted right after the introductions.

I actually did have an appointment, with my therapist, and today she suggested I write down my feelings in a journal to get them off my chest and reflect on them.

During the night, I wake after only a few hours of sleep spent tossing and turning. Unable to fall back asleep for yet another night, I drag myself our of bed and downstairs, turning the TV in the living room, hoping it’ll lull me back to sleep.

“10 things I hate about you” is on and by the time Julia Stiles recites her poem, I’m bawling into a pillow. I remember the homework I’ve been given, so I grab a piece of paper and a pen and begin writing.

“Miss Scully’s list of 10 things I hate about you”

The words of the title swim before my eyes as I scribble my feelings onto the patient paper. The poem I write is slightly different from the one in the movie, but writing it all out really does help.

I fold the paper up carefully and toss it in the trash before heading back up to bed.

[tiffgeorgina]

do you have any favourites parts of season 2? (I agree that the plot has been.... Thin? Non-existent?) But what are the things about this season that you've enjoyed?

hello anon! a few things i’ve enjoyed are:

-the new guest stars. watkins, hill, and raphael are knocking it out of the park. we waited longer than i wanted to to see june and dulé but hey, at least they’re here now! im already kinda attached to their characters and im pretty sure all of them are gonna get fucked over so im scared fjgkjhfdg

-just seeing all these mf characters again. ive missed them so much kjhgkdfjh i could watch them watch paint dry and i’d be okay with that bc i just MISSED THEM

-CONNIE. RESURGENCE. OMFG. i saw xosha roquemore (the actress who plays her) credited for 2x05 a couple weeks back and i FREAKED. OUT. god why do i love this narc. acab except for connie because i like her and she’s pretty (seeing her in full color and 80s style was a REVELATION)

-mo coming back ugh i missed him at the jammer group. seeing him complacent and beaten down HURT. im ready to see him fuck blair up i love blair but he’s walking away in handcuffs this season if mo has anything to say about it

-blair/harris. ok they’re cute i said it (plus they’re easily getting the most screentime out of all the couples this season which is nice bc their relationship is so much less established than the others)

-mo/dawn flashbacks mo/dawn flashbacks mo/dawn flashbacks mo/dawn flashbacks mo/dawn flashbacks!!! i knew we would be seeing their backstory but i didn’t expect it to be the first thing we saw all season!!! i love mo/dawn and i love getting backstory since i was waiting to know more about their past for so long and!! it’s here!! now we know everybody at the jammer group used to work for leighman and that’s why they hate them and we know mo and dawn go back a decade and!! it’s just so satisfying to KNOW i love to see it

-the entirety of Fore! (2x04) yassir. fucking. killed. that. shit. he was the sole writing credit for that episode, and when i saw that on the imdb page i simply knew it would be god tier. and it was! admittedly a little plotless, but that’s par for the course this season, plus it was early enough in the season to get away with it i think. the twist at the end. corky’s entrance. blair/harris. blair being an idiot. blair being a high idiot. yassir x being the king of feminism. yassir lester writing andrew’s emmy reel like that. we haven’t seen season 2B yet but 2A peaked with fore!. period. try to disagree with me. you can’t.

-ofc the 80s aesthetic that we all know and love. i saw somebody describe black monday as a period piece once and it seemed kind of ill-fitting bc it’s not set in victorian era england but yk what? it’s totally fitting. this is a period piece. the 80s slap.

-blair being the villain that we know he is. i wish they would quit stalling on this because it’s making all the characters seem monotonous and non-distinct, but i like those moments where blair snaps (“WE ARE DOING THIS” and “i am the only family you need now. just me”) andrew’s such an excellent actor and it’s fun to see this side of his range since he’s usually played really nice and wholesome (or at least not downright villainous) characters. he’s sending chills down my spine with some of the shit he’s doing and saying this season. andrew. emmy. nomination. now. GIVE IT TO ME NOW.

-momentary mo&blair resurgence (even if it’s fake). i miss mo&blair as father-son so fucking much anon you don’t even know. finding out that they were the ones clicking their heels in 2x06? i could’ve CRIED

-being right. ok this has a bit of lore but i have been STALKING the imdb page for black monday for MONTHS. bc they’ll add episode titles, or screencaps, or cast members all the time without telling anybody, and everything’s been accurate so far (so it���s not some troll lying on imdb we know that lol). specifically, in 2x09, there’s a character credited as dr. gabe egon. the tl already had suspicions that he had smth to do with conversion therapy bc there’s this one picture that sho released where you can see all this shit mo’s written on this board, and it DEFINITELY SAID CONVERSION THERAPY. and this episode comes around and roger is walking out this door that says “dr. gabe egon ~ therapy for the religiously erect” or whatever and i was like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and then roger blurts out that it’s literally CT and i !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this shit is in different areas for better or for worse and even if im confused and bored at the same time being pulled along for the ride is fun as hell

-the naming scheme for the episodes. i literally had no idea what they would do for the episode titles this season since there’s no countdown to black monday, but i like how it’s shit that the characters say/write. bc then a character says the episode name and you’re like !!!!!!!!!!! jfhgdfjk. plus it kinda tells you what’s going on--i knew 2x06 would be about a ponzi scheme before blair even proposed the idea in 2x05 bc the ep is titled Arthur Ponzarelli. and i knew fore! would be the episode where blair and the harrises are golfing and blair gets hit by a golf cart since “fore” is a golf term. and i know that 2x07, “who are you supposed to be?” is the weird halloween party ep where everybody looks ridiculous and ppl are def gonna be getting into it. 2x10 is titled “i don’t like mondays” and idk what that means but i bet mo says that line in the show. and 2x09 is titled “at that time” and im so scared bc that episode has a blair flashback and WHAT DOES IT MEAN WHAT DOES IT ALL MEANNNN

-more women and more women being relevant to the plot. good. it was getting a little obnoxiously man-influenced here. cmon the majority of the cast AND the majority of the directors AND the majority of the producers AND a majority of the writers AND both the creators can’t ALL be men. like pick a struggle.

whew that list was longer than i expected it to be! thanks for the ask anon! what are y’all’s favorite parts so far?

[nyaawn]

Whew. I finished FFVII Remake.

*spoiler of course*

After almost exactly 58 hours over 19 days. Wow, didn’t expect it to take longer than XV, iirc I finished that in forty something hours. Though good chunks of that probably spend on standing around eavesdropping npcs conversation or left it idle while I tending to my cats.

The verdict? Positively, excitedly pissed-off.

As some may had seen from my previous post, that motorball fight before the last boss left me throwing expletives. So I decided to take a break, even when I could felt the finish line just a step away. When I picked up my controller again, I thought all that’s left is fighting Sephiroth then and there. But I was wrong. It’s never that simple, isn’t it.

Game: “We have to stop Sephiroth!” Me: “Okay sure.” Game: “But before that we gotta fight DESTINY ITSELF.” Me: 

Seriously, why? Is it because the characters think what little pieces of future they privy to don’t look good enough? Because they think their fate shouldn’t written in 1997’s game discs stone? Because Aerith said so?

Since Aerith had been consistently acting fishy throughout the game, I came to the ending waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to maybe explain to Cloud, “Things happens in the future. Sephiroth keep coming back but you keep kicking his ass. So he goes, "Ah, screw this”, pulls some antics in the lifestream and coming back to before it all began. And somehow I was brought along to here.“ Or something along that line. But she didn’t. Aerith and Seph remain cryptic to the end.

And so I going along for the ride without understanding the how and the why. We fought and, uh, did we just kill the personification of established canon itself..? Then we fought Sephiroth, which probably just an excuse to have throwback galore to Advent Children. But hey, I like AC. Stupidly cool, logic-defying, totally over-the-top action scenes? Gimme. More throwback to the original game ensues. Seph throws confusing lines and keep being the fairy-godstalker he is before vanishing completely. Ookay? Cool fights, but I still understand nothing.

However all my question marks so far pales to what’s coming. The game shows Zack’s scene from Crisis Core and I brace for the feels, but, this time, his last stand…… was not his last..?

…… …. … *brain.exe stop functioning. rebooting.. .. .*

…..WHAT?! HOW?? Game, you don’t just drop Zack on me out of nowhere and then run away! HEY, GAME!? EXPLAIN THIS?!!

But it’s too late. The game had ran away cackling ‘To be continued!’

Shit. I should expect that they would throw something wild at the end considering the episodic nature of this game, to keep us at the edge. I’m both amazed at how they did it and want to slap them with buster sword at the same time. There also a strong feeling of deja vu as this was what I felt after Kingdom Hearts.. and then I remembered this too is Nomura’s game. Aah, I should have known…

Am I happy at how in the end the game answers almost nothing but throws more question? Nope. Am I angry at how the game change things big time? Noope. Overall I like this game. The highs overcomes the lows and I’m highly amused at the meta and how the characters are fighting against the script. All those memes of Cloud having to redo everything?

The remake gives us his answer.

I’m excited if the story diverge from the original in later episodes. However there’s also trepidation because, well, we all know this team didn’t have good track records for expanding their stories (Nojima with FFX-2.5? Toriyama and the whole Lightning saga?? Nomura and his Xehanort saga??? Heck, the FFVII Compilation entries itself range from decently serviceable to complete whack). But they are doing great job on writing characters in this first remake, so fingers crossed? Maybe by teamed together they will keep each other in check with no one going too wild. And if it really end up to be KH-level trainwrecks… oh well, we’ll always have the original FFVII to appreciate. ..Eh, who am I kidding, I’ll most likely close my eyes and eat up whatever crazy plot lines Nomura and crew can concoct if it means Zack lives and lead a happy life. I had done that for Axel anyway. But that means they have to keep Aerith alive too, because having one lives while the other dead is still a tragedy (Yes, I’m Zerith shipper 4lyfe).

And now, we only need 3-5 years to find out… Sigh, I’m excited, but I admit being left hanging on this cliff for years is not my idea of fun. I like your FFVII Remake, Square, but I still want to slap you with buster sword.

[kitten1618x]

GoT Afterthoughts ep. 08x01 ‘Winterfell’ (Part 1)

Whew! I’m sorry this has taken so long. I’ve got two munchkins home from school with a stomach bug, and they’ve been cutting into my rewatch and write-up.

~

So, a few things before we kick this bad boy off... I have not read or interacted much with anyone (except writing up that post yesterday about the opening creds) and I have avoided the discord server (even though I’m DYING to gush) as to not skew my own perception of the episode. Those of you who follow my blog know that I am partial to political!jon, but here’s your heads up for anyone else that just stumbled onto this recap. And with that...

~

We begin the journey of our last season similarly to the way we began our very first: An excited Winter Town boy frantically scrambling to find a better view of the royal retinue marching on Winterfell—complete with the same musical score. Let’s call that strike one against Jon and Dany, as we all know what a farce that first royal couples’ relationship was.

~

This boy, as he shimmies up a nearby tree, very much reminds me of a combination of both Arya and Bran in the pilot — Arya even spies him and smiles, as she stands watching with the smallfolk (a nice book nod). Her face at initially seeing her big brother Jon makes my heart skip a few beats, and I kind of got the feeling she was going to call out for him, but changed her mind. She looks down then, and I’m honestly so worried for their reunion because they have both changed so much, and Arya isn’t the same little girl he remembers.

~

Her smile fades as Jon and Dany pass her by, and the Hound comes into view. Her feelings with Sandor have always been complicated, but we don’t have much time to dwell on that, because Gendry rounds the corner and there’s a different kind of smile lighting up Arya’s face now—and I’m so stoked for their reunion, because it’s what I deserve. WE ALL DESERVE THIS OKAY?!?!?!

~

And what do we have here? Ahhhh yes, the typical D&D ‘cock’ and/or (in this case) ‘balls’ banter via Varys and Tyrion as they once again travel together in another wooden box. You know, we damn well better get the payoff to the jackass/honeycomb/brothel joke this season, or I swear by the old gods and the new that I’m blowing up the Sept of Baelor... oh wait.

~

Missandei looks visibly uncomfortable at the impassive stares of the Northerners as they ride by. However, Jon did warn them about the North—which he reiterates to a rather annoyed looking Dany, who no doubt expected a much more warmer welcoming for coming to “save the North”—but it’s pretty clear there will be no Myhsa crowd-surfing here.

~

A screeching overhead sends the Northerners frantically running for cover as a smug-looking Daenerys smirks proudly at the fear her dragon children instill when they split the skies above. Let’s be real here — that was no coincidence. Remember this?

Dany is in complete control of Drogon, and let’s call a spade a spade: this was a cheap intimidation tactic driven by spite. And I honestly can’t even say I blame the girl, but it’s probably not the best way to make new friends, either—especially when they are all of the mindset that “a Targaryen cannot be trusted”. Just sayin’, Dany girl.

~

And we have Arya’s reaction to seeing Dragons for the first time as they soar high up over Winterfell and Sansa, who watches from the ramparts. Sansa’s reaction is quite similar to Cersei’s—as in, she really doesn’t have one. Someone please cue My Chick Bad by Ludacris!!

Jon and Dany enter the courtyard and Jon springs from his horse to bring Bran in for a signature Stark squeeze and a forehead kiss (another season one callback). He proudly admires how Bran has grown and is now a man, only for Bran to answer with some vague and emotionless three-eyed raven shit, before staring down Daenerys while Jon moves to Sansa’s open arms.

~

*Perhaps no one informed Jon about Bran going all sentient-being?

~

I’m sure most of you already noticed that while this is supposed to be the same hug scene we were shown in the HBO teaser, it’s not the same shot, nor the same angle. In the teaser, Jon makes this soft face and goes straight to Sansa’s arms...

But in the actual episode, Jon goes straight to Bran’s arms, and his expression is quite different...

And in the teaser the hug is much longer in duration, and Sansa doesn’t look up at Dany until the end—still not relinquishing her hold on Jon.

However, in the episode, we get a shorter version and a different angle, while Bran and Sansa simultaneously stink-eye Dany the entire time.

*please note Jon’s expression isn’t the same as it is in the hbo teaser—which begs to differ WHY they chose such a romantic shot of these siblings to hype the final season? I mean, I know why... do you? 😉

~

Annnnnnd moving right along. Jon asks where his darling baby sister Arya has gotten to, as to which Sansa replies “lurking somewhere” — which is an odd response, but I’m not gonna lie, it did make me chuckle a little. If I had to make a guess on this odd dialogue (other than the D’s just suck at dialogue sometimes), I imagine it serves the purpose of leading Jon to assume that the girls still have the same strained relationship of their youth.

~

Not one to stand by idle while getting eye-fucked from all directions (and not in a good way), Dany sashays over to be introduced to the stunning redhead Jon was hugging on, to learn she is (only) his sister (whew!), and the Lady of Winterfell. And with that said, I need to take a moment to address something to all the antis who will probably hop on this post (cuz I know y’all are there): Jon is NOT the Lord of Winterfell. Winterfell does NOT belong to him, not even as warden of the North, not even a little bit. He has no say, no ownership, no NOTHING on Winterfell. The only way he becomes the Lord of Winterfell is if he marries his cousin, Sansa Stark — which is just ONE of the many reasons WHY a marriage between them is advantageous. Tell your friends.

~

The tension kicks up a notch as the introductions proceed and Dany feeds Sansa platitudes of how beautiful she and the North are. Perhaps her words are meant to be kind, but after all she’s been through, Sansa is not here for the bullshit — remember how nice Miranda was in the beginning too? Besides, my girl’s jealousy is so thick, she’s almost GREEN. So, giving Dany a full-bodied once over, she haughtily replies “Winterfell is yours, Your Grace.”

~

Annnnnnd...

Before a full-blown catfight ensues, Bran throws some ice on the situation—and by ice, I mean ice dragon (harr harr harrrr). The wall has come down, and your dragon is one of them now, he informs Dany—whom of course is horrified by the news. (And probably by Bran too, as I assume she, like Jon, did not get the Bran is the 3ER memo).

~

We move into the Great Hall where we learn that Sansa has already made the intelligent decision to call all their banners to retreat to Winterfell as soon as they knew that the wall had fallen. Little Ned Umber isn’t really sure whom he’s supposed to address or how (bless his little heart), but in any event, he’s getting the horses and carts he needs to safely bring the rest of his people back to Winterfell. Jon tells the maester to summon the Nights Watch as well.

~

And of course you know little Lady Mormont has some shit to say. She’s not pleased with the turn of events and wastes no time voicing her opinion and stirring the ire of the Northerners. But hey,

(Sorry, I couldn’t help myself).

But more on that later, because Jon looks really nervous as little Lyanna throws shade — and his first instinct is to turn and share a look with his sister, errr wife, cousin!, Sansa.

~

I feel like he was looking to her for support, but she’s got none to offer at the moment. So, he pulls himself together and tries to calm the dissent by giving another rousing ‘we need allies and I brought them’ speech, and he actually says something VERY interesting here: “I had a choice: keep my crown or protect the north. I chose the north.” I mean, he ain’t lying, and the best place to hide something is right in plain sight, after all—and of course nothing about that statement sounds political or off at all, does it? I mean, because the Dany stans/jonerii insist that Dany agreed and was FULLY onboard to come north before Jon bent the knee, so why would he say that, then? Go on, tell me...

~

Tyrion decides to throw in his unwanted .02 — simultaneously backing up Jon and feeding Dany’s savior complex (the greatest army blah blah blah — gods, I cannot wait until everyone sees how useless the dragons will be against the NK, especially when using them to roast the wights puts their own soldiers at risk). His words aren’t met with any gratitude when he also drops the bomb that another enemy house of the North is also on its way to Winterfell.

~

Sansa is taken aback but recovers quickly. Armed with her signature snark, she asks how they’re expected to feed the ‘worlds greatest army’ — something she did not prepare for — chased by a sassy, “what do dragons eat, anyway?”

But wa-wa-wait, HOLD UP. Did Dany just— Did she just throw down the gauntlet?

~

Why, I believe she did, my friends! jskslkdlsksjsklslsljsllsl 😂😂😂😂

~

I can’t even with this episode, guys. It’s like I’m watching a medieval version of Melrose Place (google it, youngin’s) with Jane and Sydney throwing shots by the poolside!

Okay, okay, but all joking and snark aside, Sansa has got a valid point. She isn’t prepared to feed all these extra mouths PLUS two fucken huge dragons. I mean, winter is here, and where could they possibly find enough food to sustain everyone? It’s almost as if the show is making it a point to remind us about the lack of food and where did we last see wagons loaded with food? Oh right, I remember...

Put this one behind Northern Independence on the list of ‘Petty Things That Won’t Matter Because the AotD is Coming’ — you know, because who needs food to survive? And who the hell wants independence, anyway?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

~

Moving right along, and holy mother, maiden and crone, this is getting long and I’ve barely scratched the first 15 minutes of the show!

~

You know what? Nevermind, I’m just gonna go ahead and publish this, and post the rest tomorow when I finish it — I know y’all are thirsty anyway. lol Forgive the sloppiness, as I did this ALL on mobile, and my paragraph breaks kept disappearing and arrrrrghh tumblr!

~

*Some gifs/images mine. The others were taken from google. Thanks if it’s yours!!

[jennifersylvesters]

give a little - part one

Pairing: Chris Evans / Sebastian Stan x fem!reader Word Count: 3.6k~ Warning: swearing A/N: this is my contribution to @suncityparker and @petalparker’s writing challenge. i chose the au / prompt fake dating. hope you enjoy! as always, feedback is always appreciated!

When you signed the lease for your apartment at Woodridge Oaks, it was only natural for you to be excited. After all, this was your first taste of independence. Finally you had a place to yourself, free of any family or roommates. There was no stress, no rushing in the morning worried that the bathroom would be occupied. You weren’t expecting much from a one bedroom apartment but just a nice relaxing home. After all, what could happen on the fifth floor of Woodridge Oaks?

Occasionally a loud party bustled throughout the complex, but it ended during reasonable hours and only happened on the weekends. They were tolerable, just like the tenants who resided in the building. You got along just fine with the neighbors, not particularly concerned about any of them.

To the right of your apartment was your neighbor, Chris. You met him while moving in, lugging heavy miscellaneous boxes up to your place. He graciously offered to help which you gladly accepted. You hadn’t seen him much after that day, only greeting one another occasionally in the halls.The two of you sometimes briefly chatted in the laundry room while waiting for your loads, but it was nothing but mere small talk.

And although the number of women who visited his place seemed excessive, you didn’t particularly mind. It amused you to see the girls creeping quietly out of his place, passing you with a mix of shame and embarrassment all while refusing to make eye contact. As long as they weren’t loud, you had no qualms.That was his business.

However your neighbor, Sebastian, did not feel the same. Unfortunately Sebastian’s bedroom was right next to Chris’s, where he could hear him and his partners going at it in the middle of the night. While you weren’t technically friends with Sebastian - “commute buddies” seeing as your offices were only a block away from one another - you empathetically listened to his complaints.

Chris’s flings meant nothing to you, only serving as a trivial fact about the blond man next door. It caught you by surprise when a woman began frequently visiting his apartment. At first you found it sweet how he finally decided to commit. There was only one girl for Sebastian to complain about now.

Yet things seemed off. This visitor would show up at odd times of the day, skulking around the hallways constantly looking over her shoulder. Multiple times you witnessed her trying to yank his door open but to no avail. She left notes taped to his door, a lipstick kiss on the sheet with multiple hearts drawn.

All of these actions seemed peculiar, something you weren’t quite sure what to make of. You figured the least you could do was let Chris know. So one Sunday afternoon you knocked on his door waiting for him to answer. You heard rustling from the other side, locks sliding before a hand grabbed and yanked you inside.

“Oh, thank God it’s you” he breathed a sigh of relief, quickly locking the door. “Lucy’s been practically stalking me.”

“Who?”

He explained how he met Lucy at his job. He hadn’t thought much about his flirtation with her, only that she seemed like a sweet kid who ended up wanting more than a casual fling and got aggressive about her ambition to date him. There was absolutely no shame in his voice or face as he went into certain details about their sexual history, something that ended up flustering you instead.

You suggested he tell the landlord, figuring that he could easily ban her from the building. Chris shook his head, heaving out a sigh. “No, I can handle it. Plus it might mess up my business.” You weren’t sure what he did, but you politely nodded your head. “I just gotta ride out the crazy.”

“Thanks for telling me” he said, giving you a polite smile as he opened the door for you. Both of you jumped seeing Lucy standing at the doorway.

“Who are you? Who is this?” Lucy glared.

And in what Chris deemed a moment of brilliance, he blurted “This is my girlfriend, Y/N!”

Your jaw dropped at the notion, unsure of what in God’s name he was talking about. You barely spoke to him, and now he was deciding the two of you were dating?

Feeling a slight pinch on your arm, you yelped lightly. It took one look from the blond man to understand that he needed you to save him. His face said it all - “just go with it”. Still, he didn’t need to be that rough.

“Yes...I am dating...Chris” you slowly announced, trying to process the words as you said them. The idea of dating Chris seemed unfathomable. Sure, he was ridiculously attractive, but he wasn’t one for being tied down. Plus you didn’t even know his last name. Definitely couldn’t date someone without knowing their full name.

“How long? Why? When’d you meet?” Lucy didn’t have the right to ask either of you questions, but that didn’t stop her.

“Actually, we’ve known each other for a while” he nodded, explaining the situation. “We’ve always had chemistry, but we just didn’t wanna give in to it. I think I just wanted a sign to feel like all the stars were aligned. But a couple weeks ago we ran into each other at our favorite cafe, and we were talking about our favorite musicians. She was talking so passionately about her favorite band and that’s when I realized I couldn’t fight my feelings any longer. I just told her how much I liked her, and I’m just really blessed my baby felt the same way” he lied so easily even you thought it might be real.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in close. This was definitely new territory with your neighbor, and you weren’t too sure how to feel about it. Were you supposed to do the same?

So your arm hovered behind his back unsure of where to put your hand. Would putting it up near his shoulder blades be more friendly than a normal girlfriend would intend? But you also couldn’t just put it near his butt. That region was off limits. With a fake smile plastered on his face, he gritted “Just pick a spot.”

You eventually settled on the small of his back before grinning nervously at Lucy. Instantly you regretted this gesture as she shot you a murderous look.

“I, uh...I like him so much” you fumbled out. Apparently that wasn’t good enough. You received another pinch. Wincing at the pain, you deciding to rephrase your statement. “I mean, I love him. I’m just really...shy about admitting that stuff to strangers. Especially people I’ve never met.” That seemed to appease Chris.

Lucy eyed you, watching you do you best to pretend you were in love with a man you barely talked to. With one final glare, she huffed off.

As the sound of her heels disappeared, Chris dropped his arm from around you. Breathing a sigh of relief, he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Whew! Thanks for that!”

Scrunching your face, you couldn’t help but feel a little weirded out by the whole scenario. You rubbed at the spot that he pinched. “Sure. That was a bit strange though.”

Right as you were about to walk back to your apartment, he took your arm gently. “Hey. I know I don’t have the right, but I have a huge favor to ask” he started nervously, his other hand rubbing the nape of his neck. That’s when he asked if you would be his fake girlfriend, at least until he was sure Lucy would leave him alone for good.

You pointed out how insane Lucy seemed, afraid that she might come after you. There was something in her eyes from the brief contact that worried you greatly. But Chris promised he would take care of her as long as you did this favor for him.

All signs told you not to do this. It was crazy. Lucy was crazy. Chris was crazy for thinking this was a good idea. But you were weak when he repeatedly pleaded for you to help him out. His eyes looked desperate and when he actually got on his knees, clutching his hands together, you knew you couldn’t say no.

“Fine” you gave in, wishing you weren’t that weak to handsome men. “Also, what’s your last name?”

A couple days later you strolled through the grocery store, making your way through the sections as you focused on the information on your phone. Turns out that dating Chris wasn’t just a simple announcement and an occasional hug and kiss; it was actual work.

True to Chris’s initial belief, Lucy had no intention of giving up without a fight. Her visits became even more constant, asking Chris’s location or why the two of you weren’t together at that very second. You would fib, making any excuses to get away from the horrid girl. She rattled of questions to you about your “boyfriend”, expecting you to know the most obscure details about the man.

While her incessant hounding bothered you, she was right to question this relationship seeing as you practically knew nothing about him. The only certain fact you knew was that he owned a lovely dog named Dodger. Everything else about Chris was up in the air.

Lucy wasn’t buying into the sham, and both of you could tell. So he began sending facts about himself, typical details one would know about Chris if you were actually dating. Nothing more enthralling than remembering someone’s dietary restrictions and food dislikes for a fake relationship.

While you sent some of your own facts, you never bothered making any of them too personal. Learning about him was more for his benefit rather than yours. He didn’t need to know your allergies or music preferences because his stalker wouldn’t care.

As you muttered how Chris was originally from Boston, you looked up from your phone to see a familiar face. Oh, no. It was your ex-boyfriend, Jake. Your face immediately paled at the sight of him.

He looked good in that button down you always loved, hair gelled back as he browsed through the produce section. Why, oh why, was today the day where you decided to look completely disheveled?

He hadn’t noticed you so you sucked in your breath as you attempted to turn around. Your plan was foiled as your cart screeched, the back tire grinding down and refusing to cooperate. Jake looked up towards your direction, recognizing you immediately. As he called out your name, you internally groaned biting down on your lip.

“Hey, Y/N! Long time no see!” he greeted you. He surveyed your messy hair and unflattering sweats. From the look on his face, you could tell he felt that he dodged a bullet with you. You wanted nothing more than to flip him off and curse him out for that expression alone.

Despite your current state, you were doing fine. You didn’t need a man, especially one like him. This, of course, was something he would never believe even if you told him.

You wanted Jake to understand that you never needed him, that you were capable of bigger and better things. He was simply the pit stop on the side of the road. Yet to him he was the final destination you never got the opportunity to enjoy.

You could feel the resentment boiling in your body, wishing you could do something - anything - to make him see otherwise. And that’s when you spotted Sebastian.

Well, he actually spotted you. “Oh hey” he approached you, giving you a polite nod.

Something inside you snapped at that moment. That pitying look from Jake made you want to lash out, prove him wrong for all those times he made you feel inferior. You never got to do it during your relationship or your break up. Apparently now was the perfect opportunity, even if that meant absolutely losing your mind.

“Baby, where have you been?” you cooed, taking Sebastian by the arm and pulling him close to you. You rubbed his bicep, leaning in closer. Sebastian quizzically eyed you, unsure of the current situation.

“Uh, like in general or-?” he started before you realized he might ruin your plan.

“Aw, I’m glad you got my favorite chips! You’re so sweet!” you exclaimed upon seeing him holding a bag of Doritos in his hand.

Jake pressed his lips together. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting someone like Sebastian to show up. He cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him. “You’re not even going to introduce me, Y/N?” He forced a chuckle causing Sebastian to raise an eyebrow.

It was only natural for him to feel intimidated by Sebastian. With his tall stature and good looks, he seemed like a step up from Jake. You couldn’t help but relish that the tables were turned.

“This is my boyfriend” you beamed, leaning in closer to Sebastian. This announcement shocked him as his eyes widened and his body stiffened. Yet somehow Jake didn’t seem to notice. Thank God.

You squeezed his arm, hoping he would understand to go along with the charade. Fortunately he got the signal and kept quiet.

“Oh, really? I didn’t realize you got a new boyfriend” Jake replied, irritation laced in his voice.

“Yup. He’s my boyfriend.” You tilted your head into Seb’s chest, acting as if it were only natural. “This is Chris.” Shit.

You hadn’t meant to say the wrong name. You heard the words slip out so carelessly and you almost winced. Almost. No, you couldn’t make a move. You needed to pretend you hadn’t messed up, that you hadn’t called Sebastian by his least favorite neighbor’s name.

Seb sucked in his breath, eyes widening at your name choice. He stared at you; it was almost as if he wasn’t sure you actually knew his name. You squeezed his arm once more, almost as if a lifeline to just keep quiet.

“Babe, this is Jake.” You extended out your arm, gesturing to him. “This is my, erm, ex-boyfriend.” Suddenly things began to make sense for him.

You knew Sebastian decently enough to know that he wasn’t one for lying. In fact, he always stuck to his guns about the rights and wrongs. It sometimes felt like he stood on his own pedestal, refusing to come down among the regular beings who made mistakes.

He had a choice to make: expose you or play along. The obvious choice would be to tell the truth, point out how the two of you were just neighbors and that his name wasn’t Chris.

But the pleading look in your eyes stopped him from doing so. He looked at your arms, still intertwined tightly to his arm. And with his free hand, he gently gave your arm a couple loving taps.

“Yes...I am...Chris” he eventually spoke, wishing you chose his actual name for this ruse.

Your arms relaxed slightly and you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You knew you owed him big time, but that was to be discussed after.

As soon as it was clear he was willing to play along, things got increasingly easier. You told Jake about how you and Sebastian met, how you hadn’t meant to fall in love with one of your neighbors, but the two of you couldn’t fight the magnetic connection. Sebastian just stiffly nodded along, unsure of what to contribute to the conversation. You did most of the work; all he needed to do was stand there and look pretty.

So you continued faking pleasantries, taking Sebastian’s hands in yours. Your palms sweated, nervous about the piling lies as well as how Sebastian would later react. Clearly he could sense your discomfort but that this charade was something to prove. Letting go of your hand and pulling away for a brief moment, he adjusted so that you were in front of him and wrapped his arm around you.

Your heart beat quickly as you felt Sebastian rest his head on your shoulder. From Jake’s frown, you knew you owed him big time.

What you didn’t expect was Jake to ask the two of you to get coffee with him. Who in their right mind would ask their ex-girlfriend and her current beau out for a drink? Apparently Jake would. “I just think that it would be nice to catch up with you. And seeing as how Chris can’t keep his hands off you, I don’t mind if he wants to tag along.”

You wanted nothing more than to roll your eyes at the invite. There was no way you planned on spending more time with your ex, especially with this “Chris”. Except you and your neighbor were not on the same wavelength.

“That’d be great!” Sebastian agreed as the two men exchanged phone numbers. You could feel yourself mentally screaming, wishing that you could reverse time before Sebastian accepted that offer. If only.

As your ex-boyfriend walked off, you pulled out of Sebastian’s grasp and swiveled around to face him. “What are you doing?” you hissed, now looking at a confused Sebastian.

“I thought I was helping you with your ex-boyfriend.”

“I mean, yeah. Thank you for that. But you didn’t have to accept the offer!”

“I thought you wanted me to?”

“I would rather shoot myself in the foot than hang out with Jake again” you snarled, the memories of your ex-boyfriend flooding up. One look at Sebastian, and you realized your hostile tone was directed at the wrong person.  “Sorry, it’s not you” you apologized. “It’s just that Jake and I didn’t end on a good note.” He nodded, not needing an explanation.

“I guess...We just have to get through Saturday?” He agreed, and the two of you began heading towards the front of the grocery store to pay.

As the two of you made your way back to the apartment, you discussed plans of how to handle things. You decided you would visit his place to help pick out a good coordinating outfit and go over anything important that might arise in conversation.

Hauling the bags of groceries to your shared floor, the two of you stumbled onto the scene of Lucy and Chris arguing at his entryway.

“There’s something wrong with her! I know it!” she insisted, arms crossed across her chest.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris spotted you. While this day had been nothing but poor timing, Chris eagerly welcomed the universe’s mistake. “You need to stop this right now, Lucy. You’re gonna upset my girlfriend!”

Sebastian turned around, expecting to see another woman in the hall. A perplexed expression crossed his face as he saw no one else, now confused by Chris’s words.

You, on the other hand, focused on the death glare being sent your way. What were you supposed to do? The woman looked like she’d rip you to shreds if you even attempted fighting her.

You opened your mouth, trying to form the right words. “I am...So upset…” Judging by Chris’s expression, this wasn’t going to get his stalker off his doorstep.

“No! I’m so angry!” you changed your phrasing, furrowing your brows. “How dare you?!” you yelled, gently placing your groceries on the ground before putting your hands on your hips. No way you were going to damage your eggs for this act. Please. But were you selling it enough? Chris rolled his eyes and gave a small nod, and you continued your awful performance.

“You need to get away from my man, please.” Another ‘ramp up the anger’ look from Chris. “No, you know what? No ‘please’. Get away from my man before I call the cops on you!” you snapped, pulling out your cell phone. You randomly tapped buttons on your phone before holding it up to your ear, pretending to wait for the police to pick up. Your bluff worried Lucy as she clenched her fists before letting out a loud scoff.

“I know something’s up” she hissed as she pushed past you and Sebastian. Once the apartment building door slammed shut, Chris grinned.

“That was pretty bad, but I liked that phone bit” he complimented as he gave you a couple of claps. You jokingly curtsied, pretending to enjoy the praise.  

“Wait, what’s going on?” Sebastian asked, still clueless to the what just occurred.  

“Oh, Chris has a stalker” you responded casually giving a shrug. Sebastian’s eyes widened before he scratched the back of his head in bewilderment.

“Y/N is pretending to be my girlfriend until Lucy gets the hint and leaves me alone.” Thankful for your help, Chris plucked up one of the bags from the ground to lighten your load.

Sebastian remained quiet, finding himself squatting to take in all the information. “Wait...Can you...What’s going on?” he questioned again. The two of you explained the predicament, giving him time to fully absorb the situation. He nodded at certain points, making it clear he was slowly beginning to digest all this information.

He sucked in a breath before exhaling slowly, eying you nervously before pressing his lips together. “Well, that’s gonna complicate things because I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.” Chris nearly dropped the groceries, startled by his announcement.

“Fake boyfriend” he continued, and you remembered that this was true. “Because her ex thinks that I’m her boyfriend. He also thinks that my name is Chris.”

Things on the fifth floor of Woodridge Oaks were about to get interesting.

tags list: @sleepybesson, @tomhaz, @supernatural-girl97

[dovechim]

edge (m)

➾ jeon jeongguk x reader

➾2.3k

➾ warnings: unprotected sex, oral, edging, breeding/ impregnation kink, sub!jeon, noona kink, ball play (whew)

➾ a pretty little anon suggested i start a breeding drabble series.... and so here i am :”) also tagging @94hixtape bc she was the one who keeps trying to make me a jeon hoe.... and inspired me to write sub!kook :@))))))

enjoy, friends :))))))

A loud slam of the door interrupts you as you’re typing halfway, and the sounds of belongings being scattered all over the hallway follows. Not even a minute later, Jeongguk peeks his head into the kitchen where you’re set up with your laptop, and judging by the look on his face, he’s had a hard day.

 Not as hard as you’re about to make him, though.

He sees you at work and starts to back away, the downcast expression on his face growing even more sombre. Jeongguk’s learned the hard way a few times not to disturb you while you’re working, but sometimes when he’s in one of his brattier moods, he likes to test your patience. But not today though, and that’s when you know something’s wrong. 

“Kook, come here,” you call out to him just as he turns away to head for the shower, and you swear you can almost see his entire body perk up with interest. “Bad day?”

At your invitation, he comes up behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder, already nosing at the exposed skin of your neck. “One of the worst, noona.”

His sentence ends with a deep whine, and he never addresses you like this unless he wants to play, so you turn around and oblige him, giving him a sweet kiss on his cheek as you reach to massage his neck.

“Really, baby? What can noona do to make you feel better?”

Jeongguk doesn’t even hesitate this time, as his eyes light up at his favourite nickname. “I want noona’s mouth on my cock. Pretty please?”

Your eyes travel down his tall frame, and you realise that he’s wearing your favourite grey sweats, the one where you can see the outline of his cock if he doesn’t wear underwear. Reaching over to palm him through the thick material, you relish the feel of his soft cock. You’ve always liked touching him like this even if he’s not hard, it somehow feels a lot more intimate than you’d ever expect.

“Since you asked so nicely,” you reach into his waistband to wrap your hand around his soft dick, leading him to the bedroom with a firm grip on it. “Sit on the bed and take off your pants. Show noona how pretty your cock is like the dirty baby boy you are.”

Jeongguk pushes his sweats past his ass, his underwear following as he lets them pool at his ankles before sitting on the edge of the bed, spreading his legs wide automatically. He’s already beginning to harden in your hand, and it’s a little scary how fast he can get hard for you. In a matter of minutes, he’s already almost at full length, precum already dribbling from his tip.

You reach to cup his balls, rolling them in your palm and admiring how heavy they are. “When did you last cum baby? Your balls feel really full.” 

“T-two weeks ago,” Jeongguk’s breath is already starting to shorten as you work his pearly liquid over his tip.

His answer makes your core throb, and you can’t help but give his balls a gentle squeeze. “That long ago? That means you have a nice big load for noona today right?”

Jeongguk’s thighs are twitching as he watches you give an open mouth kiss to his tip before laving your tongue from his base up. He’s too preoccupied with the sight of your red lips around his cock to remember to answer, so you pinch his inner thigh in punishment.

“Fuck, ah! Yes, I have so much cum for noona now ahhhh,” he moans when you squeeze the base of his cock, increasing the speed of your strokes.

Giving him a sweet smile, you spit on his dick to get everything extra messy. “I guess I’ll have to work extra hard for that load, would you like that babyboy?”

“P-please, noona,” a choked sob comes from deep in his chest, so you take pity on him and swallow his cock down your throat, giving an extra tug on his heavy, full balls as your nose reaches his base.

You know how much Jeongguk loves it when you deepthroat him, so you give him a few good swallows. You can hear his breathing get even more laboured above you, and when you glance up to make eye contact, his forehead is already matted with sweat, and his teeth are digging into his bottom lip. Pulling off his cock with a deliciously obscene sound, strings of saliva and precum drip down your chin, but you know Jeongguk appreciates the mess even more than you do.

Pumping him harshly, you take a few deep breaths before sliding him back down your throat, making sure to let his head hit the back of your sensitive throat even as you continue to massage his balls. Jeongguk gives a few desperate thrusts under you, and you pull back to glance at him, reaching for one of his hands and threading it in your hair.

Jeongguk automatically knows what this means as he guides your mouth back down his cock, having been given permission to touch you now. His other hand reaches to lift your shirt over your breasts, palming the lace bra over your tits as his hips thrust home, burying his cock deep down your throat.

He spreads his legs wider as he forces your mouth down on him till he can hear you gagging, but he always knows just how much you can take. You allow him a few good thrusts into your mouth before you place both hands on his inner thigh and pull away. Jeongguk easily relents, but keeps his grip in your hair as he pants down at you, eyes watery and lips thick and swollen.

“Does my babyboy want to cum?” You whisper against his inner thigh, taking one of his balls into your mouth and suckling on it.

“Fuck, please noona, I haven’t cum in so long. I’ve been such a good boy.”

“Really?” You draw away from him, continuing to pump him up and down. “Where do you want to cum baby?”

“In your mouth,” Jeongguk answers automatically, and you take him back into your mouth, tongue dancing over his length playfully. “Fuck, noona, your mouth is so good, you look so good sucking my cock like this.”

He gives a few shallow thrusts into your mouth, and you can feel his length throbbing in your mouth, a sure sign that he’s about to cum down your throat. You ease up on your pace, pulling your lips off his messy length and squeezing his base hard till he stops throbbing, and then take him back in your mouth.

His salty precum is dripping down your chin, and just when he’s close to shooting his load, you pull back again, and Jeongguk lets out a frustrated sob.

“You better not cum in my mouth, noona doesn’t feel like swallowing cum today,” you warn him with a harsh squeeze to his balls as you begin to swallow him down again.

Jeongguk looks down at his cock buried deep in your throat with wide, desperate eyes, pleading for you to let him cum as he tightens his grip in your hair. Just to push him a little further, you sink all the way to his base, nose buried in his abs and swallow hard. You can feel his thigh muscles tense around you as he sobs out loud above you, struggling to keep his orgasm at bay.

After a particularly loud whine, you pull off his cock, only to see tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Noona, please,” he whimpers, cock twitching. “I’m so hard, I really need to cum.”

You reach over to wipe the tears from his cheeks, pushing him to sit back on the bed as you straddle his slim hips. “You’ve been such a good babyboy, just wait a little longer, can you do that?”

He nods, blinking back tears as you peel off your shirt and lounge shorts. His hands automatically reach for the back of your bra, and you allow him to unhook it. Jeongguk palms your breasts greedily for a few seconds before he reaches for your panties and pushes them down your thighs.

“Do you want noona to ride your pretty little cock?” You reach for him and slide his head against your drenched folds, feeling his thick mushroom head against your clit.

“Yes, fuck,” he throws his head back, exposing the column of his throat as one of his hands grabs your ass cheek. “Wait, noona, we’re all out of condoms. Did you remember to get more?”

“No, I didn’t,” you admit, continuing to rub him against your clit. “But we don’t need them today babyboy, we’re going to play a game.”

“Wh-what game, noona?” His breath catches as he feels his tip slide into you ever so slightly.

“I’m going to ride your cock bare like this, and I won’t stop till I cum. And you’re not allowed to cum while I’m riding you, unless…” Your voice trails off. 

“Unless what, noona?”

“Unless you want to get your noona pregnant,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his grip around your waist tighten immediately. “I forgot my pill yesterday, so if you cum inside me…”

The consequences are left unspoken, but you can almost feel the way Jeongguk’s cock throbs even harder at the thought of breeding you, and there’s a gush of precum that drenches your inner thighs. Without giving him a second more to think about this rationally, you drop your weight into his lap, sliding his cock deep into your pussy.

“Fuck, ahhh, noona, I can’t,” he sobs immediately, hips bucking into you. “You edged me so many times already, I can’t hold back.”

“You better not cum inside your noona,” you warn him as you swivel your hips, walls clenching around him extra tight. You bite his earlobe harshly even as you slam your weight down hard, feeling his cock split you apart from the inside. You can feel how hard he is inside you, and the thought of him cumming inside you has you extra wet. “I don’t want to get pregnant, so you better not cum inside.” 

“Noona, please hurry and cum,” Jeongguk is caught in a dilemma, whether he should thrust his cock into your soaked depths to try and make you cum quicker, which would almost certainly push him towards his high as well. “I can’t hold back anymore.”

“Shhh, just a few more strokes, babyboy…” You soothe him with a kiss to his cheek, brushing back his damp hair from his forehead as you glide up and down his cock. You can’t help but to reach down and grab his balls from under you, closing your eyes with a moan as you wonder exactly how much cum he has for you.

“Noona, noona!!” His voice is laced with panic as you start to ride him hard, grinding your clit on him as he grips your ass tight. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, noona, get off!”

“Not until I cum, babyboy,” you remind him even as you bury his cock deep inside you, opting to grind on him instead. You can feel the head of his cock poking at your cervix, and the slight pain pushes you toward your orgasm. “Don’t cum inside me.”

You tug on this balls as you say this, and with a panicked shout, Jeongguk’s arms are around your waist as he tugs you down to his chest, laying you flat on him before he grabs your ass with both hands, thrusting frantically into your pussy.

“Fuck, noona I’m cumming,” he whimpers helplessly, cock pistoning in and out as you feel warm jets of cum against your womb. The sensation of him filling you up pushes you over the edge as well, and your walls convulse around him, seeking to milk him dry of every single drop.

“That’s a good boy, give noona all your cum,” you moan as you massage his balls again, squeezing extra tight with your walls. “There’s so much, are you still cumming babyboy?”

 Your pussy feels so full, and dribbles of cum are running down his length and over his balls as Jeongguk gives you a few last weak thrusts. You lay there contently, cheek against his chest as his warmth fills you up, and when he begins to soften inside you, you arch your back to let him slip out of you, and that’s when you feel his thick cum start to pool at your gaping pussy. You wish you could see the way cum is dripping out of you in a thick stream, and you reach back to push it back inside your walls. 

“Did you just cum inside your noona?” You glance at him, and he’s panting for breath with his eyes closed. Cum is still leaking out of your well fucked pussy even as you try to squeeze your walls to keep it in, and you realise that he was telling the truth, and you just took two weeks worth of semen deep in your womb.

“I’m sorry noona,” Jeongguk chokes out, chest still heaving. “I-I didn’t mean to, it’s just, you felt so good.”

“Shh baby,” you shush him as you press your lips to his briefly, feeling his breath slow as you comfort him with gentle strokes of his cheek. “I lied just now.” 

“About what?” Jeongguk draws back, arms around your waist as he hugs you close to him.

“Noona wanted you to cum inside, so it’s not your fault.” You slide your cum drenched pussy back onto his soft cock even as you whisper to him, “I want your baby.”

Jeongguk freezes for a good few seconds, registering your words. Suddenly, he flips you onto your back, holding your legs up high to make sure his cum doesn’t leak out. But his cum is so thick that what’s escaped didn’t even make it onto the sheets, just on a trail down your inner thighs, so he presses it back inside you with tender fingers.

“Lay back, noona, I’ll make sure you’re pregnant before the night ends.”

[hiddenvoyager]

BNHA Chapter 166 - My Thoughts and Analysis

Ok, so I ended up having a little extra time today, so my analysis is early! Let me begin!

Overview

Alright, I thought there were a lot of good things going on in this chapter, and there was especially a TON of character development, especially for Bakugo. Some things really surprised me in this chapter, and I’d like to go more in depth with what I thought was important.

Bakugo, Inasa, Camie, & Todoroki vs. The School Children

This chapter of BNHA kicks off from the previous chapter, where it pits the four students to go up against the school children, who seem to have very powerful quirks. Now, this already seems like a crazy scenario (or at least it does to me), yet their failed attempts in the previous chapter to help control the children makes it seem like things are only going to get worse at first, right?

Well yeah… it does seem worse at first… especially with how strong these kids seem to be…

And in the beginning of this chapter, the four of them all have trouble when it comes to dealing with the kids. Their quirks are powerful, and they seem to have pretty good control over them. It seems that no matter what they do, the kids continue going after them. Also, it doesn’t help that there are only four of them versus an entire class.

The Tables Have Turned

Eventually, the tables begin to turn, and Bakugo, Inasa, Camie, and Todoroki begin to take control.

This happens when the children realize that Bakugo, Todoroki, Inasa, and Camie aren’t afraid of their quirks. Their own fear tactic has now failed, and they’re left clueless, wondering how they should take action. And yet, after they realize this, the children soon decide that they should still attack, since they see this as their only option left.

My... what do we have here, such a cute Todoroki! Or... is that even you?!

This is when everything begins to change, such as when Camie made an illusion of Todoroki using her quirk Glamour (which has finally been introduced in a formal manner). And things begin to change (for the better) when Todoroki finally makes a type of ice slide that the children go and ride on, which finally leads me to another point…

The Character Development. It’s Time.

I’ll start off with Todoroki in this case (don’t worry I’m definitely getting Bakugo too). Shortly after creating the ice for the children to slide down on, he mentions how he is “broadening their outlook a little bit”. IMO, Todoroki is now using a new tactic to get the children to see a different perspective of how quirks can be used, which is why he created the slide for them. He probably wanted to show them how creative quirks can be, and how they can be used for things other than fighting and violence. In this case, Todoroki has accomplished what he intended to do, and the children are much happier after Todoroki has created his “ice slide”. After all, I feel that his outlook was also broadened in a sense. Back when Todoroki refused to use his own fire quirk, Midoriya was the one that helped him finally use it. And since (well, again IMO) Midoriya helped Todoroki in this sense, I felt that he was trying to help the children in the same fashion.

Bakugo’s Character Development

First off, I wanted to say that this HIT ME HARD. I have never been a fan of Bakugo (I prefer Deku and Mirio much more) but let me just say this. Bakugo giving advice is probably the best thing out of this entire chapter. I’m going to be honest. I wasn’t expecting it. Yet the way he gave advice to that child, the way he did it so calmly… I thought it was amazing.  

This, (for me) was a side of Bakugo I’ve never seen and never thought I would see. He tells the child “If all you ever do is look down on people, you won’t be able to recognize your own weaknesses.” This definitely connects to his own character. He’s always looked down on Midoriya, always thinking that he was better than him. Remember in the beginning of BNHA how Bakugo did this? Yet he began to realize that he was no longer at the top gradually, starting with how both he and Midoriya got into UA, since he never thought that Midoriya could get in. This continued with how quickly Midoriya was becoming a competitor to Bakugo, even beating him multiple times (near the beginning when the students had an exercise where they were placed as heroes and villains, and the hero license exam, which Midoriya passed while Bakugo didn’t).

Now, it’s shown how Bakugo recognizes how he’s no longer the “best of the best” and how looking down on others (such as how he looked down on Midoriya) hurts him. It hurts him since he now does not know what his weaknesses are. He’s ignored them by thinking he was always the best, and because of this, it’s stumped his own growth, since he now realizes that he needs to know what his weaknesses are in order to grow stronger.

I can go even deeper with this analysis!

*Not Necessary to read so skip if you like and scroll down*

Now, this presents to me something else. Deku (I’ll call him that for now, since that’s what I usually refer to him as) has been able to grow since he’s learned from his mistakes over time. For example, when he first receives OFA, he continuously breaks his arms whenever he uses this power, because he doesn’t know how to control it yet. Over time he changes his methods on how he chooses to use OFA, such as using it only in one finger at a time to eventually learning full cowl. And even then, he goes even further to learn how to use the power in his legs, which, if I remember correctly, is called One for All: Shoot Style (correct me if I am wrong please).

Deku learns these techniques over time from his own mistakes, which shows that Deku has actually taken the time to learn from them. Bakugo, on the other hand, now realizes IMO that he hasn’t learned from his mistakes, from his weaknesses… and that’s because he’s put too much time into looking down on others instead. Now that he has realized this though, I believe that there’s going to be more change coming from him in the future.

*Okay read here again*

Now Bakugo tells this child his advice so that he won’t make the same mistake that he has. In a sense, I think Bakugo sees this child as a younger version of himself, since he has the similar, cocky attitude that he had when he was younger.

And to be honest, this is probably one of the nicest things I’ve seen Bakugo do in the series. He wasn’t yelling, putting someone else down, or anything. The only thing he did was calmly give this child some advice. And I really liked that.

All Might’s Words 

All Might then concludes the chapter asking the open-ended question to Endeavor “For what reason we’re equipped with our powers…” and continues to tell Endeavor “The answer to that must be quite simple”. It almost seems like All Might was trying to tell Endeavor how quirks are not only for fighting, or for violence, but can also be used for the greater good. The panel where Todoroki is shown using his fire quirk in front of the young girl is an example of this, and is probably what All Might was referring to. The only thing Todoroki is doing with his quirk here is amusing the young girl, making her happy. Is this an example of what All Might meant when he talked about why they’re equipped with their powers? I personally think it could possibly be a reference.

Also, I’m not exactly sure, but I feel that there could be a chance that Endeavor is now beginning to realize that the way he raised his son was wrong. The way he treated young Todoroki was harsh, cruel, and mean since his only goal was to make sure that he would surpass him. Yet now, I feel that there could be a chance that Endeavor is going to change. And that he’s finally going to redeem himself.

One More Thing: About the Strength of Quirks

It is briefly mentioned how as generations go by, quirks begin getting stronger because of how they mix, and how they’ll eventually become uncontrollable. Now as of right now, this is the only info on this (unless I’ve forgotten something) and it’s called “quirk singularity”. I feel like there could be tons of theories about what will happen in the BNHA universe if this type of thing continues, and what types of problems it would cause. Right now, I’m not going to go into it, but I will say this. This is an interesting concept, and is scary too, knowing that people would eventually have uncontrollable quirks. If it gets mentioned more in a later chapter in the manga, I’ll definitely delve more into it.

Conclusion and Favorite Parts

Whew! Ok! I’ve finally reached the end of my analysis for this chapter! It was pretty long, I’d have to say, but I enjoyed writing it a lot. Now for my favorite parts!

- Bakugo. The way he gave advice to the young child. Yes.

- Todoroki. Showing off his fire quirk with pride and helping the children.

- Camie. She looked like she turned into Todoroki, and it was amazing.

- Bakugo LAUGHING. IS THIS EVEN REAL?? Wow, that was too good to be    true.

- All Might’s words. Always puts a soft spot in my heart.

Thanks for Reading!

Word Count: 1,655

[itsyourturnblog]

What I’ve learned: running during quarantine

Three lessons from running and using guided run coaching as a way to think about life in general

Photo by Jenny Hill on Unsplash

There’s a Chinese proverb that asks the question, When’s the best time to plant a tree? And there are two answers — the first one, Twenty years ago. The second one, If not 20 years ago, then today. Today’s the best time to plant a tree.

Thinking about that, I’ve run on and off my whole adult life — and over the past few years, I’ve fallen away from it. A couple of years ago, I won a coveted spot in the New York City Marathon lottery but I didn’t run the qualifying races or volunteer to help because my life felt too busy. My life was happening all around me, happening to me. I didn’t have time. I wanted to but… Always that pesky but. I didn’t make the space and that opportunity went unused.

Then, last year my family moved to San Francisco from NYC in late summer — which seemed like a good time as any to make other life changes. Weather permitting, I would ride a bike (some of the way) to work in SoMa, we took regular family walks, I even meditated here and there. And then, the novel coronavirus comes on the scene earlier this year. COVID-19 and quarantine ensue, causing everything to be thrown into a swirl, including work, school, habits, even the construct of time itself.

And so what to do in a time of great change and uncertainty? You guessed it, plant a tree. I planted a tree two months ago. I started running again. I mean, why not? And I began with the Nike+ Run Club app using the guided runs feature.

I promise this isn’t a commercial for Nike, I only own one pair of Nike shoes, but the guided runs really have been a lifesaver for me. Previously, when I would run, I would have company — friends, family, and people who might have signed up for the same race later in the year, my dog, some other kind of motivation — but nowadays, these things are near impossible. And so this is how coach Chris Bennett, NRC Global Head Coach, and others — including Sally McCrae, Cory Wharton-Malcolm, Shalane Flanagan — inhabited my headphones as I ran 50,000 meters (a bit over 31 miles) this month. And here’s the evidence:

Screenshots from my Strava (left) and Nike+ Run Club (right) apps — Strava’s a bit lower than NRC because some of the segments I initially logged as hikes so they don’t count as run distances

🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌 🎉🙌

So, let’s get into it. Let’s cross that proverbial starting line and get going. What are three things that I’ve learned from my time running that can apply more broadly to my life and my work?

Start slowly, or go slowly

We’re all in a hurry — we’ve all got to-do lists a mile long, someone’s waiting on something, there’s that email, has the kid eaten lunch?, that thing took longer than we thought and now we’re behind, has the dog been fed?, did you reply to that message from your uncle?— but we all have time. It is something that exists for all of us. Though it does have value, it doesn’t cost any money. And whether it feels like it or not, you are in control of the next 30 minutes, the next hour, all of it. You are in control. And whether you’re running on a trail or you’re staring down a deadline or about ready to begin a design sprint with a client team, you control the cadence. You don’t have to drink from a firehose. And in order to not drive yourself into the ground, you need to start slow. It’s easy to get caught up in the excitement, heart-pounding, trip over the hype, the blood rushing in our ears, to say yes, and jump in.

On the flip side, it takes strength, resolve, and focus to start slow. Because it’s tough to sit in that tension, it’s hard to say no, to really consider the whole effort — especially when it’s in-flight, you don’t know exactly what that entails. How can you know how much fuel you’ll use if you don’t know everything about the journey of which you’re in the middle?

True, you can pick up the pace later, that’s always an option but warm up first. Prep as much as you can. Stretch. Shake it out. Keep your arms loose, keep your legs limber. Then, do the icebreaker before you plow straight in. Start smart. And start slow.

Recovery is important, be easy

Be easy on yourself, even in the middle of a run. That goes for after a run, between runs, before a run. The same goes for life. Life can be hard, it will get hectic, it is crazy at times so be easy on yourself. Being easy doesn’t mean lowering your standards, it doesn’t always mean running slow. But set those things for what you need. There’s a guided run on NRC called Tough Day, Easy Run, it’s been one of my favorites because it speaks to that.

During a speed run, you may run fast, but not too fast. Or try to be the fastest. If you’re running with someone, how are they doing? Are they able to answer simple questions, maintain a conversation? Are you trying to run faster than they are? Are they trying to run faster than you? Are you able to talk to them? How are you feeling? You should feel good. If you’re feeling something else, you’re not being easy. Running should feel good.

Coach Bennett talks about how an easy run should feel, how a recovery run should feel. He says something like:

And easy doesn’t mean slow; it means just that — easy. And easy, when it comes to running, easy doesn’t mean slow. And remember we talked about slow — starting slow doesn’t mean that that’s the pace for the whole route. Taking something easy isn’t a slow run. It’s an easy run. It’s your normal, everyday run. Because if it’s not an interval run, a long run, or a speed run, it’s an easy run. It’s a recovery run. Easy is not a pace or a distance; easy is a level of effort. So go easy.

I remember one of the NRC trainers pointed out — don’t recall who it was— that runners typically have slower paces the third and last quarter of a run. And that’s not necessarily a good thing, it probably means that runner has exhausted themselves — it means I’ve been running too hard for the first half. That means I wasn’t running slow, really pacing myself, and I didn’t make it easy for myself. I’m making it harder than it needs to be. That’s me, making it hard.

How many times have we complicated something in our lives? If you’re anything like me, a lot. Whew, it’s easy to lose count. And many times, I make things in my life and my family’s life a lot harder. Why? Any number of reasons — pride, ego, stubbornness, some rigid idea that something has to be a very specific way, not accepting help, not asking for help, all sorts of reasons. If we’re easy about these things, even just a bit more, it won’t be so hard.

It’s okay to fail

The intention at the start of the run isn’t always how it plays out. Like how the best-laid plans for some Tuesday lunch or a family bingo game night or a client retro not turning out the way it was intended. What is the joke — do you want proof that god/God has a sense of humor? Make a plan.

You might start out on a run and think, I’m going to run 10K today and I’m going to crush it, but if you listen to your body and listen to what’s going on with you, that may not be the best way to run. Sure, you can dig deep and pull something out in the last quarter and thug it out but you should still start slow and be easy with yourself. Digging out that low gear, keep that in your back pocket. There’s always time for that.

In 2007, Arianna Huffington woke up in a pool of blood with a broken cheekbone and a cut over her eye. She had been at home on the phone and was checking emails when she passed out and fell. Huffington had been working 18-hour days building the Huffington Post website. She didn’t know what had happened and after weeks of medical tests, doctors came back with a simple answer: she was exhausted.

Arianna Huffington attending the premiere of The Union at the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival, photo by David Shankbone

Huffington took personal steps to stop this from happening again in her own life. And then, she became a champion for getting more sleep, urging others that instead of bragging about our sleep deficits to see how we can do more with more sleep. She did one of the most popular TED talks in 2010 on the subject— it’s been watched over 5 million times — and wrote Sleep Revolution in 2017.

I say all of that as an example of what it means to reset your expectations. Listen to yourself, listen to others, the thing that you had in mind might not be the best thing or the right thing to do just now.

There’s a ton more I could say. There are things I’ve missed, sure— running on narrow trails in this time of COVID-19 precautions puts a whole new spin on politeness, how, and when to yield (bikes, runners, walkers, horses, etc.), a lesson is there to be learned in kindness. For sure. Or staying focused on the path in front of you as a metaphor for remaining present. Because there’s always a crack in the sidewalk or an exposed root that’s visible after the fact. But I’ll stop here and appreciate the fledgling tree.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.

You can find the Strava and the Nike+ Run Club app on the web, in the iOS store, and in the Android store. Maybe other platforms, though I couldn’t find any others. You can find Arianna Huffington’s book, Sleep Revolution, in any major book retailer, but I would suggest getting it from your favorite local bookstore.

What I’ve Learned: Running During Quarantine was originally published in It's Your Turn on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

by Skipper Chong Warson via It's Your Turn - Medium #itsyourturn #altMBA #SethGodin #quotes #inspiration #stories #change #transformation #writers #writing #self #shipping #personaldevelopment #growth #education #marketing #entrepreneurship #leadership #personaldev #wellness #medium #blogging #quoteoftheday #inspirationoftheday

[wanderbitesbybobbie]

ANTIQUE: Misadventures and Cold Springs

Antique (An-ti-ke), that is how you pronounce it. My foreign friends were puzzled when I posted my Antique photos on my Instagram Account and wouldn’t stop asking where in the world I was. “It’s Antique, friends!” It’s a province in the Philippines located in the Western Part of the Visayas Region. It’s not “antique”, the adjective that you use to describe something ancient. It’s AN-TI-KE. Please don’t be confused.

I generally had no idea what I’m putting myself into when I decided to travel to Antique by land from Iloilo. But just as they say, the moments of happiness that we enjoy take us by surprise. On a rainy day, I flew from Manila to Iloilo to visit my good friends, Krizia and Mike. I also had some travel writing business to attend to so it was a two-in-one trip. I always stay with them every time I travel to Iloilo. I am very grateful that they receive me in their home very openly each time. I only had a few days left from my vacation in the Philippines. I was scheduled to go back to Sydney in two weeks, so I promised myself that I would make the most out of the remaining days. I have told Krizia that I wanted to go hiking at Mararison Island to take photos of “Rafflesias“. You know, the huge flowers that eat humans. Just kidding. They eat parasites, but whatever. They are carnivores, and it is fascinating to see some of the species up close and personal. I was very excited to see them. Mike was actually thrilled too, as he is a big fan of things like those, plants, animals, and nature. Both of them are animal and nature-lovers which makes them a very compatible super couple. But during that time, Mike was exceedingly interested to see a Rafflesia in person. So over dinner and a couple of beers, we planned our Antique itinerary. For this trip, I spent my “Day 1” just food-blogging around Iloilo since I was invited by a number of restaurants and cafes prior to my arrival. That night we planned my “Day 2”. We googled everything from transportation to activities, and in a snap, we weren’t going to Mararison anymore. There was a better eco-tourist spot in the middle of a lush tropical rain forest. MALUMPATI COLD SPRINGS.

Photo from TripAdvisor

Oh my gosh! The google images were just so captivating that we have to experience it ourselves. No. Actually, WE NEED TO EXPERIENCE IT OURSELVES. It has become imperative now, it’s not just a whim anymore. That was it, the deciding point! We’re ditching Mararison! The planned itinerary was:

Take the earliest bus to Antique, head straight to Pandan (where Malumpati Cold Springs is located)

Stop by Tibiao on the way back to experience the very intriguing Kawa Hot Bath, maybe get a chance to see a Rafflesia somewhere

Head back to Iloilo before night time.

It’s gonna be a one day trip, so we all settled to go to bed early so we can catch the first bus. Another friend was coming with us. It was the first time I have met Kim that time. He went with us for dinner the night before, and he was a part of the “Day 2 Planning”. Kim is years younger than us. He’s a unicorn (well at least that’s what his Facebook Profile says). He’s in his early twenties and this guy has a very contagious laughter. He’s the type of person that will liven up a very boring classroom. It was just at that night that he have decided to come with us. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, but Kim made everything extra fun – starting from the bus ride.

THE CERES BUS RIDE

If you will google “How to go to Antique from Iloilo”, the first thing that would come up is the Iloilo International Airport. Apparently, Google suggests that the fastest way to Antique is by plane. But, that was not an option for us. We were working on a very limited budget so we all woke up early and proceeded to the Ceres Bus Terminal in Molo. As early as 5:15 AM, we were already out, riding a jeepney from Jaro to Molo to catch the 6:00 AM bus. Based on what we have researched, we would be arriving in Antique by 8:30 to 9:00 AM. We decided to skip shower that morning (we took a shower the night before), since we would be plunging in the cold springs in a matter of two and a half hours anyway. Plus the fact that it was really cold in the crack of dawn. So the three of us were already in the bus, Mike, Krizia, and me. The bus conductor handed over our tickets and reminded us that the bus would be leaving at exactly 6:00 AM. OMG. Kim was still missing in action. We thought he was already at the bus station, but there was no sign of Kim anywhere. Where is he? Is he still asleep? We did not receive any replies via SMS. We kept on calling his mobile, and that was the only time he finally answered. There’s only 5 minutes left, the bus would be leaving, and Kim was running from his house to the bus station. There were no jeepneys in his area, so he was forced to walk (I mean run). The conductor kept on checking up on us and Krizia kept on apologizing in Ilonggo (the dialect in Iloilo). The bus driver started the engine. We were all stressed out so early in the morning. Kim was on loud speaker and he talked to the bus conductor saying that he was only 5 minutes away. We could hear him panting in the background. The driver drove slowly and asked which way was Kim coming from. They explained to us that we cannot wait for him any longer because the bus timetable would be messed up. We cannot be late, otherwise we would be delaying the next bus schedule. OMG. Finally, there was Kim. Running a few meters behind the bus. We started laughing at the mere sight of him struggling to catch the bus with his backpack. He was waving at the bus conductor yelling, “I’m here! I’m here!” in Ilonggo. He was out of breath when he stepped inside the bus. The conductor literally pulled him up from the bus entrance, and all the other passengers started to laugh. Whew! That was a close call. He almost missed the bus!

It was the start of the long bus ride. A ticket to Antique cost us P210 ($7.50 AUD) for a non air-conditioned bus. I chose a window seat to get a hold of some fresh air, and I immediately fell asleep as soon as the bus started running.

In a couple of hours, the bus stopped. I was already feeling the hot breeze on my face, the sun was already up so I was wide awake. It was around 9:00 AM and we have finally arrived in Antique. It was a 3-hour travel. But the thing is, we haven’t arrived at our destination yet. The conductor informed us that it would take another hour before we reach Pandan. We were just stopping by to stretch out a bit and for a quick toilet break. It was the final stop for most of the passengers so there was less than half of the people in the bus. As we headed on, the people in the bus went down one by one until there were only a few left. The bus probably stopped for about 15 times before we finally reached Pandan. It seemed endless. By the time we got there, it was only the 4 of us left inside the bus plus the driver and bus conductor.

IT WASN’T ANOTHER HOUR. IT WAS A TOTAL LIE. It was already around 11:30 AM when we finally reached Pandan Bus Terminal! Like whooooot??? So much for sunbathing at 9! I kept on asking the conductor if we were there yet each time the bus would stop. I probably pissed him off for asking every half hour. I felt so stupid. I was the leader of the pack, how could I miss this part from my google searches? We were just so enticed with the picturesque view of Malumpati Cold Springs, that we just missed that part where it says it’s another 3 freaking hours from the main proper of Tibiao. We were so exhausted from the bus ride. We felt sticky and grouchy from the very humid weather. The sun was glaring at us! Remember, we didn’t take a shower thinking we would be bathing in the Cold Springs by that time. But no. We were in the middle of Pandan Bus Terminal, not knowing where to go next. I took out my phone and started to check out Google Maps to navigate. Signal was on and off. I needed to find a data spot. It sounds like a scene from a thriller movie. No signal + stuck in the middle of somewhere. As soon as my data started working, I instantly turned on my GPS. Good grief!!! Our location pin was at the end of the island, a few minutes away we could already be in Boracay Island. 7 freaking hours of travel by land! We should have just gone to Boracay for goodness sake! What in the world was I thinking? I don’t remember signing up for a 7-hour land travel! Had I known that it would be a laborious travel, I would have pushed through with Mararison. How could this be such an epic fail?

But anyway, Google says it’s another half hour to reach Malumpati Cold Springs. We hailed a tricycle to take us there. We traversed for about 20 minutes. We paid for P50 ($1.5 AUD) per head, so a total of P200 ($6 AUD) for the 4 of us. A signage welcomed us by the entrance.

We paid the entrance fees and to our luck, the road to the cold springs was steep. We all had to get off to help the driver push his tricycle. We were already so pissed at this point. We were so behind our schedule! We were already ranting all the way through, both in Tagalog (Manila dialect) and in Ilonggo. Upon hearing our frustrations, the tricycle driver offered to pick us up for free. It was already past 12 noon and we all agreed to return to the bus terminal at 3:00 PM. You can just imagine how exasperated we were. THE FREAKING LAND TRAVEL WAS LONGER THAN OUR STAY. In the original schedule, we’re supposed to be traveling back to Iloilo by 3:00 PM. But we cannot skip the rest of the itinerary at this point. Not when we’ve traveled a long way already.

MALUMPATI COLD SPRINGS, FINALLY!

Our first look into the cold springs, we were like, “Ito na ‘yun?” (This is it?) We felt like our expectations weren’t met because we traveled all the way from Iloilo just to see what was in front of us. We have all declared IT WAS NOT WORTH IT! The butt-hurts from the long raging hours in the bus, the steep tricycle ride… and this was it? Our point of view has changed however after we settled down, refreshed ourselves, and took another look. All of a sudden, it has become beautiful without any pretenses.

It is true that seeing things from a composed outlook alters everything. I wowed my Instagram followers with a view of the cold springs. Every angle, wherever you look is just invigorating. I badly wanted to jump into the waters as soon as I saw it, but I pacified myself from over-excitement. I have this mentality that if you are too happy, something unlucky would come up next. So calm down! Calm down, Bobbie! The 4 of us decided to have lunch first before we explored the entirety of it.

Since we came in late, we had less to none choices for lunch. We had no right to be picky. There was a small canteen near the life-vest rental shack, and it was the only stall that was open that time. We devoured whatever was left in their food keepers and realized we could have saved a lot more by bringing our packed lunch if we had planned this better. Our 7-hour travel made us really hungry. We haven’t had anything since we woke up at 5:00 AM.

This happens to be our view as a compensation for all the inconvenience. Since we came on a weekday, we had the place to ourselves. Krizia had to warn me every now and then to be careful with places like this. I am a very inquisitive person. Every time I go somewhere, the “travel journalist” in me automatically comes out. But on this particular trip, I was careful. We were visitors, and we don’t know the people (and the creatures) that reside in the place. There are a lot of mythical stories in this part of the country, it is best not to stare at people and mind your own business. The cold springs might be enchanted by some fairy spirits or something. I’m sorry, I did not mean to spook you or creep you out in any way. I am not a believer of myths myself. They are called myths for a reason. But it’s always better safe than sorry.

The 16-feet pristine spring water is very inviting. It looks like a natural pool with trees and wooden bridges on the facade. Aside from swimming, there are other activities that can be enjoyed in Malumpati Cold Springs. You can go “water tubing”, where you ride the inner tube of a rubber tire and steer your way through the gushing waters on the other side of the springs. A guide will help you navigate. It’s like wild water rafting, but it’s not as wild. There’s also rappelling, zip-lining, and trekking, of course every activity has a price.

RAPPEL: P50 ($1.50 AUD)

TREKKING WITH GUIDE: P150-P200 ($5-6 AUD)

ZIPLINE: P200 ($6 AUD)

WATER TUBING: P200 ($6 AUD)

We just decided to rent a rubber tube without fully experiencing water tubing. We had very limited time, as we still planned to push through with our intended itinerary despite the fact that we were already so behind schedule.

We didn’t have any other choice anyway. We were already there. What else could we do but to jump into the turquoise waters and enjoy the view. I even brought my favorite goggles with me and the funny part is… I LOST IT THERE! It was just a pair of goggles, I know. But a little mishap like that, added to all the other misfortunes we went through just to get there ignited our belief that the day of this misdaventure just doesn’t end there.

TO BE CONTINUED…

HAVE YOU BEEN TO ANTIQUE?

WHERE EXACTLY DID YOU GO?

HOW WAS YOUR EXPERIENCE?

I’D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU!

ANTIQUE: Misadventures and Cold Springs was originally published on WanderBitesByBobbie

[lh-moth]

I don’t know what it is about Riverdale that leads too me writing these little ficlets, but here I am. Again. Ah well. Maybe someone will enjoy it.

Written after episode 10, “The Lost Weekend”. Actually, I only had time to watch half the episode before rushing off to work, so sorry if it doesn’t quite fit. I just couldn’t stop wondering how the tradition of Archie and Jughead going out to the theatre became a thing, and, well, fic happened.

I’m still stubbornly reading Jughead as an aroace, albeit a very confused one currently. I don’t think it really comes up in this, but just…fair warning if it’s not your cup of tea?

Also, I did tag this as “qp jarchie” because I think it’s easy to read it that way, but I have to admit I don’t actively ship it. If people would like me to remove it from the tag, please let me know.

Whew. Anyway, onto the story, which is under the cut. (It got a little longer than I was originally expecting.) (Edited 18/4 to fix some verb tense errors.)

“I don’t care about my birthday.”

Jughead instantly regrets the words. He never intended to tell his friend, because he knows what comes next. The prying questions. The overly-sincere concern. The condescending dismissal of his feelings. After all, what sort of freak doesn’t like birthdays?

The game seems to loud in the sudden silence. Jughead pretends he isn’t watching closely as Archie’s expression changes from shock to worry to sadness, and here it comes…

“Okay.”

Jughead whips around, his jaw dropping. “What?”

Archie shrugs nonchalantly. “Okay.”

The game lets off a string of mournful notes, signalling Jughead’s defeat. Archie grins. “Ha! My turn!” he crows, snatching the device away.

Strangely, Jughead doesn’t mind.

Jughead spends the days leading up to his twelfth birthday being increasingly moody, yet Archie remains unaffected. He even invites Jughead to a double-feature at the Bijou theatre. His treat. Unable to withstand Archie’s determined good-naturedness, Jughead grudgingly agrees. It does sound fun, even after Archie has to suspiciously change the date to that day.

The bike ride to the theatre is spent with Archie chattering happily about nothing particularly important and Jughead bracing himself for the b-word to be brought up. He starts relaxing when Archie is complaining about Jughead trying to get a second extra-large popcorn. (They compromise and decide to split a truly unhealthy amount of candy.) By the time the house lights go down, Jughead gives up his suspicions, puts his birthday out of his mind, and enjoys the films.

It’s not until they’ve reached the intersection where they’ll go their separate ways that Jughead is forced to remember what day it is.

“Jughead.”

Archie is looking at his friend with the most serious, earnest expression, and Jughead knows. Of course. Of course it was too good to be true. Of course Archie couldn’t just let it go. Of course.

Fidgeting and looking everywhere but at Jughead, Archie continues, “I know you don’t like your birthday, but…” He pauses, then forces himself to be still and blurts out in a rush, “I just think it’d be really lonely without you, and I wanted you to know that I’m glad you’re here.”

It is undoubtedly the cheesiest, most ridiculous thing Jughead has ever heard in his entire life, yet he can already feel himself starting to grin. Because it’s Archie-freaking-Andrews, the only person he knows who can somehow take the corniest statements and say them with such perfect sincerity that everyone else is forced to accept them.

“Thanks, Arch.”

Archie answers with one of his patented blinding smiles. “Happy birthday, Jughead.”

For the first time in a very long time, Jughead doesn’t mind the words. And if he’s still grinning as he pedals home, well, there’s no one there to see him.

Ten days before his thirteenth birthday, Jughead catches Archie at his locker after school and begins to tell him about the up-coming double-feature at the Bijou. He spends several minutes talking it up, pulling up random trivia about the films while Archie packs his books away.

“So,” he finally asks, carefully masking his nerves with a casual tone, “wanna check it out? We could go Wednesday, next week?”

At first, Archie seems confused. Then, he places the day in question, and his confusion is wiped away by a cheerful smile as he eagerly agrees.

Jughead, on the other hand, keeps his smile restrained. “Cool.” He walks away, calling over his shoulder, “You’re buying the snacks.”

Behind him, Archie splutters. “What? No! Jughead!”

Jughead keeps walking, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

“One popcorn, Jughead!” Archie shouts after him. “One!”

When Jughead turns sixteen, he buys the snacks for the first time. He forgoes the usual candies, settling for a large popcorn and a soda for his date - and somehow he manages not to choke on that word. Betty smiles at him sweetly, happily, as he slouches in the seat next to her.

Inevitably, she has to ask why he didn’t tell her about his birthday. For a moment, Jughead freezes. How can he explain? How can he explain that there’s only two people in this world who make sharing his birthday bearable, and since he can’t be with Jellybean, he hoped to spend the day with Archie? How can he explain the steadily growing feeling of wrongness that started the moment Archie told him that Betty would be going with him instead? How can he tell her that he resents her being here, resents that being her boyfriend robbed him of the one thing he actually wanted for himself, on today of all days? How can he say that this was one of the worst birthdays he’s had in over five years, and the night is just beginning?

Dragging up the smile he learned from all the unwanted birthday celebrations before, Jughead focuses on Betty and lies.

“I didn’t think you were an American Werewolf kind of girl.”

Betty laughs and Jughead slouches a little lower in his seat.

When she asks to leave early, Jughead doesn’t put up much resistance. All he wants is to go back to the Andrews’ and curl up in his sleeping bag until this nightmare of a birthday is finally over.

[rockyrants]

Photographs of War - Chapter 4

Notes and Nightmares

Chapter Summary: Harvey can't escape his nightmares, Oswald pushes Ed a little too far, and a group of British tanks show up to escort G Company on to their next location.

Some lovely Gordlock scenes in this one for @selene-yoshi-chan as it is her OTP and her art is so inspiring

Chapter Rating: G

Read Here on Ao3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Dear Mother,

We’re still waiting on the reinforcements from Britain. You would like it here. The town we’re in is quite lovely. Of course there are a few walls missing on some of the buildings, but that was our own fault. It’s quiet here. Much different than the city. More like how you told me your childhood home was. 

I learned the other day that Edward knows how to draw. Maybe I’ll have him draw a picture of the countryside for you since I don’t have a camera with me. He’s turning into a better solider. I shot him how to shoot a gun the other day. He’s a brave man. I’m quite lucky to have a friend like him.

I miss having a bed. We have to share sleeping quarters around here. I miss having my own bed. But it’s not like we get much sleep here anyway. Sleep doesn’t come easy for soliders. Maybe it will again one day. 

I’ll write soon. I love you very much. 



Love, 
Oswald

Harvey rubbed his eyes as he walked away from his post. Swap out. Alvarez said that he could handle it from that point until dawn, which gave Harvey just enough time to settle down for a few hours of rest. He hoped. Harvey and sleep didn’t usually get along, be it on the battlefield or in a nice bed. He hadn’t had a full night’s rest since the last time he returned from war.

And tonight was no different. 


Mortar and dirt rained from the sky as Harvey found himself face first in the mud in the middle of No Man’s Land. He looked up, hand on his helmet trying his damnedest to keep it on as he crawled in one direction. Which way was their camp? Which way was safe? Gunfire shot off from every direction, zipping past Harvey’s head at top speed. 

He felt a bullet rip through his shoulder and let out a yell, grabbing at it. The blood that coated his hand was warm and sticky, he could feel the granules of dirt getting caught in his hand as they flew up around him. He tripped over something, the mud flooded into his mouth making him cough wildly. He looked around to find what he had tripped on, bracing himself for an explosion. But it wasn’t a land mine, no, it was one of his fellow soldiers. He pushed the body over to look into his face.



Jim.



It was Jim. But Jim wasn’t there he couldn’t be. Harvey shook him, yelling at him to get up, but the man would not move. Lifeless blue eyes stared up at him. All too soon the air around him seemed to grow thick with gas. Harvey found himself choking, gripping to Jim’s shirt as he still tried to shake the man awake. He dropped Jim, unable to breathe-

“Harvey- HARVEY!” Jim shook Harvey’s shoulders, waking him up. Harvey reached for his gun, but Jim’s hand stopped him, “It’s me… It’s just me.” He calmed his voice immediately, hands still on Harvey’s shoulders. 


Harvey looked around, confused to where he was. His nightmares usually didn’t get that bad, but today it seemed was one of those few and far between sort of days. He reached over and rubbed his arm shoulder where a very real bullet wound scar sat. He fought to regain his breath. 



“Hey…” Jim whispered, “It’s alright. You’re safe. You’re okay.” 

Harvey didn’t say anything. He just leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Jim’s shoulder, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. Jim paused, caught slightly off guard by the gesture, but wrapped his arms around Harvey’s shoulders, rubbing his back and the back of his neck. 

“I’ve got ya.” He whispered.  

They stayed like that for longer than Harvey would openly admit. Jim sat next to him against one of the buildings and passed him a cigarette. Harvey looked at it and then back up at Jim. 


“You don’t smoke.” Harvey said, taking the cigarette from Jim.



“I know, but you do. And you look like you could use one.”



Harvey rubbed his face, “I was really hoping to get some goddamn sleep tonight.”



“You got a couple hours.” Jim said looking at his watch. Harvey looked over at it as well. 



“Goody.” He reached over and took Jim’s arm, looking at the watch a bit more closely, “Whew, look at you Mr. Fancy Watch. You pick this up off of some Officer or something?” He asked. 



Jim shook his head, “Nah. I inherited it from my dad when he passed. He was a soldier too though.”



Harvey’s smile dropped a little, “Yeah you were tellin’ me. So what, you’re trying to live up to his name then?”



“In a way. Hopefully I won’t get sick the way he did.”



“What did him in? If you don’t mind me asking.”



“Delayed reaction from Mustard Gas.”

Harvey tensed a little at the mention of that weapon. He’d had first hand experience with the issues that poison could cause. His grip around the cigarette tightened a little bit. Jim noticed.



“You alright, Harv?”



“Fine.”



“Your hand’s shaking.” He said. Sure enough, Harvey looked down at his hand to see it trembling lightly, “You sure you don’t wanna talk about that nightmare?”


Harvey took a deep breath, “I mean it’s nothin’ I haven’t had before. Just… felt very real. being caught in no man’s land. Trying to save-” he hesitated, “Trying to save fellow soldiers and not being cut out to do it.” He took a long drag of his cigarette, stubbing it out halfway through.



Jim gave him a confused look, “Not in the mood to smoke?” He asked.

“Not after dreaming of choking on air.” He rubbed a hand through his hair before tying it back again. 



“You need a haircut.”

“I’ve fought more powerful man than you who have tried to cut my hair, Kid.” Harvey said with a smile, “You’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming.”

From inside the Cafe, Oswald watched Harvey and Jim interact. He lit a lamp and set it on one of the tables next to Edward.

“Those two are getting awfully cozy.” 


Ed glanced out the window, “Yeah. They’re good friends. You should have seen them during training. I didn’t think anyone could be more of a hardass than Harvey, but then Jim showed up.” He shrugged just a little and began undoing his shirt so that Oswald could take a look at his shoulder, “Thanks again for doing this. I mean I could if I had a mirror-”

“Yeah? And you might accidentally stab yourself trying to simultaneously hold the mirror and your scissors.” He said, picking up the scissors in question from Ed’s kit. He pushed the fabric of Ed’s shirt down just a little bit to look at the stitching, “It looks like they’re ready to come out. A little red still, but nothing that isn’t fused together.” He took to snipping the stitches carefully, “You’ll have a little bit of a scar here.” 



Ed shrugged his other shoulder, “That’s fine. We’re in war. I didn’t expect to get out of this without any scars.”

Oswald went to work, carefully removing each stitch. Ed’s hand opened and curled back into a fist as Oswald pulled the threads out of his skin carefully. He set the scissors back down and began rebandaging Edward’s shoulder carefully. He glanced down to where Ed was fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, keeping it pulled down over his forearm. 


“This isn’t gonna be the first scar you have, is it?” Oswald asked after a long silence. He felt Ed immediately tense under his touch as he finished bandaging him up. Edward pulled his shirt back on quickly, buttoning it. Oswald bit his lip, drawing his hands away, “I mean, we all have scars… I have a lot too if- if you wanted to-”



“Thanks for helping me with the stitches. I do appreciate it.” Ed said quickly, standing up and leaving the room as fast as his feet could carry him without running. Oswald sighed and sat back down at the table.

He didn’t understand. They were just scars. Oswald had plenty. They made him stronger he felt. But clearly Ed thought very differently.

Ed didn’t eat with Oswald the next morning. He kept to himself on the other side of the camp, not really speaking to anyone. Oswald watched him with concern. He knew Ed liked to keep to himself, but this was an extreme even for him. Just as he finished his own meal, Mario stormed up to the table he was at.



“What did you do?” Mario asked, towering over Oswald as the man ate his breakfast.



“What do you mean?”



Mario nodded to Ed, “I need to know what you did to him to get him to shut up. He’s been silent all morning. No riddles, no random facts, nothing. You were the last one to talk to him last night so what did you do?” 



“Nothing!” Oswald looked over to Ed, concern growing on his face. Ed was never a quiet one. And when he was it was… well it was scary.



“Fix it. We’ve got some British tanks coming in today, which means we ship out tomorrow. We need him. So whatever you did, you fix it.” Mario threatened, leaving Oswald sitting there by himself. Oswald rubbed a hand over his face. Did what he say last night about scars really upset Edward all that much? The man was a medical officer, surely he understood that-

Oswald was jogged out of his thoughts by the rumble of tanks approaching from the distance. He tensed, grabbing for his gun just in case they weren’t the tanks they were expecting. He felt a hand on his shoulder.



“Easy, Cobblepot. Just that’s our escort out of here.” Harvey said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The bags under his eyes had gotten a little worse as he found he couldn’t sleep after that nightmare he had the night before. The sunlight hurt his eyes, but there wasn’t any time for recovery or rest in this line of work.

The tanks came to a stop half way through the town. Their commanding officer riding on the top of one. He hopped down, taking his helmet off for the sake of politeness and walked over to Harvey.



“You must be the American’s we’re supposed to team up with.” He said, saluting before extending his hand. The man was slightly taller than Harvey, his posture that of an extremely well disciplined soldier, “Lieutenant Alfred Pennyworth, sir, at your service.”



“Lieutenant Bullock.” He said, shaking Alfred’s hand, “Nice to meet you. You guys have news from your officers on where we’re supposed to meet?”



“Merely where we’re supposed to meet, you and I need to see exactly what might be the safest route to take. They wouldn’t speak about exactly what they have planned over the radios. You understand.”



Harvey sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, “I understand, I just don’t like it.” He took a deep breath, “It’s fine. Come on in.” He motioned for Alfred to follow him. He gestured to Jim, “This is my co-commander of this platoon, Lieutenant James Gordon. Jim this is Alfred. He’s group will be headed with us across the boarder.” 



Jim grinned at Alfred and shook his hand, “It’ll be nice to not have to walk for a few miles at least.”


“Alternatively, I think my men would love a chance to stretch their legs a bit. We’d be happy to give you a lift. Shall we?” Alfred gestured to one of the buildings where they could talk about where the companies were headed.



Oswald walked behind them, listening quietly to their conversation before strolling across the road to stand in front of Edward. 

The man was still picking at his breakfast, looking over his notebook when Oswald’s shadow cast over him. He looked up slowly and bean putting away his food. Oswald crouched down and stop him. 

“…I upset you last night.” He said quietly.

Ed swallowed his last bite of food and continued packing up. 

“You didn’t upset me. It’s fine.”



“You are a terrible liar, Edward.” He licked his lips, “I don’t know why I upset you so much last night. But… for whatever reason it was I’m sorry.” He looked up at him, “We’re already fighting so many people and- and I don’t want to fight you.”

Ed gave him a long hard look, “I just- I don’t like talking about my scars. I like to forget about them if I can. People… people don’t have scars like I do. Anything they get out here? They can be proud of them. They get to tell a story of heroics. Not me.” He shook his head, packing up his things, “So thank you for your apology, really, I do appreciate it. But I don’t think you can understand what I’ve been through.”


Oswald licked his back teeth in thought before grabbing Edward by the scruff of his uniform, dragging him up into a standing position. For as short as Oswald was, he was quite strong compared to Ed. He dragged the man back and around the corner of one of the buildings. He shoved Edward against the wall and began unbuttoning his uniform. 

Edward’s eyes went wide and a blush covered his cheeks.



“Wh-what are you doing?!” He asked in a harsh whisper, “Anyone sees you like this and you could get court marshaled or worse.”



“Shut up for a moment, Ed. I’m not doing anything that’s going to get me court marshaled.” He said, taking off the top of his uniform. Ed had done his best to keep his eyes fixed on Oswald’s face, but finally let his gaze look lower. His jaw dropped just a little bit and his expression softened. Oswald’s entire torso was peppered with scars. 

Oswald gestured to some raised bumps along his ribs, “I got these when I got beaten by a couple of higher level muscle in the Narrows. They wanted to break in some new brass knuckles after I tried to run. This-” He pointed at a long slash across his torso, “Was because I angered a bar manager for trying to take from the register.” He took a deep breath and turned around so Ed could see his back, covered in scars as well, “The ones on my left shoulder are from a shotgun that my mother and mine’s previous landlord shot at us when we were leaving the apartment.”

Ed spotted some odd shaped scars on Oswald’s hips and lower back, long lines that crisscrossed his skin. Ed reached out to touch them, his fingertips just barely brushing Oswald’s skin, “And these?” He asked slowly. Oswald flinched away from him when the man touched them.

“…North Africa. I got into a fight with another soldier.” Ed could tell that he wasn’t telling the full truth, but didn’t press further. Oswald swallowed and turned back around, facing Edward, “…Life is… horrible, Edward. Believe me. No one knows what it’s like to claw their way up from nothing like I do. I don’t know what your scars are from. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But please don’t think that you have to hide them from me or be ashamed of them.” He began buttoning up his uniform making a move to leave when Ed’s hand darted out to stop him.



Edward didn’t look directly at him, but rolled up the sleeve on his arm, revealing several white, raised scars that laid across his forearm, “…Here. You can look.” he said, his hand balled into a fist as he showed his scars to Oswald. The smaller soldier hesitated for a moment, looking up at Ed, “Go ahead, you let me touch yours, you can touch mine. It’s fine.”

Oswald reached out with a gentle hand and brushed along the man’s scars, watching him tense up more than he had ever seen. He drew his hand away. 

“Ed if you don’t want me to-”

“No. It’s fine.” He muttered, taking a deep breath, “I’m just… They’re ugly. Yours tell stories and-”



“They all tell stories of times when I was a coward… I don’t think yours are ugly, though. You’re not an ugly person, Edward. If that’s what you’re afraid of.” Oswald affirmed. He looked up at the other man and smiled gently, “You don’t have to tell me about them. If you don’t want. You just don’t have to be ashamed of them.”  He said calmly. Oswald finished buttoning up his own uniform, “We should get back.”  He turned on his heel to walk away.

Edward looked at the scars on his arm and traced them with his own fingertips, not used to the feeling. He avoided touching his forearm as much as humanly possible, hating the scars that marked his body. Baby steps, he told himself. Maybe one day he’d be able to tell Oswald about them. 



“Oswald.” Ed called back out. Oswald stopped, looking back at him. Ed offered him a small smile, “Thank you.” He said with a nod.

“And you’re sure this guy is trust worthy?” Harvey said, looking up from a piece of correspondence that Alfred had given him.



“No.” Alfred said honestly, “He’s a spy. You American’s recommended him to us and so far he’s been quite useful. But I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. But all the information he’s been giving to us so far has worked out in our favor. Besides, one of your commanding officers, Colonel Barnes I think it is, is currently watching him quite closely.”

“Goody.” Harvey rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the map, “Fuck. I didn’t want to head to that town, that entire area is crawling with krauts.” Harvey poured over the map, “We can take this route.” he said, pointing along an area that was flanked by a river, “It should keep us safe on that side. We’ll have access to water for the men and if we run into anyone there should be plenty of cover along the riverbank.”



“For your men on foot, perhaps.” Alfred piped up, “My men are in tanks. We can’t hide behind trees.” 



“Here.” Jim said, pointing at a different area of the map, “There isn’t much cover along this route by way of trees or buildings, but on the bright side we’d be able to see anything coming at us. Plenty of hills to get down behind. And once we start getting closer to the town we can cut down towards the river for extra cover. That work for everyone?”



Harvey and Alfred looked at each other, nodding, “Works fine for me.” 

“I’ll tell my men to start packing it up.” Alfred gave a small salute to Jim and Harvey. 



“How come you never salute me like that?” Harvey asked teasingly.



“I’ll do it when you earned it.” Jim laughed, walking outside. Harvey followed close behind. 

“G COMPANY!” Jim’s booming voice echoed out, “We’re heading out. We’ve got about ten miles before we hit the next town. Expect altercations along the way. Just because we have tanks with us, don’t be lazy. Pack up! We move out in 10 minutes.” Jim turned around to see a smirking Harvey behind him, “What?”

Harvey held up his hands, “Nothin’. Just haven’t seen you use terms like ‘don’t be lazy’ since basic training. Doubting your soldiers, are we, Lieutenant?” 



Jim let out a small laugh, “Just you.”



“I’m hurt.”

Oswald finished tucking his uniform shirt back into his trousers before walking back to grab his kit and gun. Ed made a move to follow him, but was stopped. Mario put a firm hand on the man’s chest. Oswald turned around when he realized Ed wasn’t following him.

“We gotta check supply levels. He’ll catch up to you.” Mario turned back around once Oswald left, “Are you done moping?”



“I wasn’t moping.” Ed said, pushing his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. 



“That so?” Mario held up the notebook that Ed usually carried around and opened it, thumbing through pages. “Because you don’t normally wax poetic in here. But whatever Cobblepot said to you about that shit on your arm really got to you huh?” Ed paled as Mario read aloud from his journal, “ ‘He must think so little of me now’… Doesn’t sound like field notes to me.”

Ed paled and made a grab for the notebook. Mario held it just far away enough that even Ed’s lanky arms couldn’t reach. Mario hesitated before handing the journal back.

“I put this away.”

“You dropped it. I was going to run it to you when I saw Cobblepot undressing for you.”

“It’s not-”

“Save it, Ed.” Mario said firmly, “Look. I don’t care what it actually was. But this shit?” He gestured to the journal, “Anyone finds that, you know what can happen. You’re a good doctor, Nygma. A really good one. I don’t want to see you discharged. You keep your notes professional. And maybe take a few steps back from him. He’s not good for you.” 

Mario patted his shoulder and walked away towards the tanks. Ed clutched onto his notebook tightly, glancing at Mario as he left. He swallowed thickly, looking in the direction that Oswald had gone before making his decision.


“Hey.” Oswald looked up from packing up his bag. Ed stood over him, pack already slung across his back, “Can I ride with you?” Ed asked, fumbling with the edge of his shoulder strap. Oswald stood, slinging his gun over a shoulder. He nodded, putting his helmet on.

“Sure. I’d like that.” 



[daringmotherofone]

I’ve been away, but I need to be back.

Whew. Where do I began? I’m a mother now. I have a beautiful baby boy. We’ll call him Monkey, okay? Let me tell you what a journey this has been. Me and monkeys father have come to an understanding where we need to do what’s best for our child. It’s taken a long time, 9 long months to be exact, but were there. Through shitty days at court and many, many disagreements I feel we’re somewhere civil. I have him during the week, he has him weekends. That’s when he has his other son anyways, so it works.

But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

I never knew being a mother would be so rewarding. But I also didn’t realize it would change your whole sense of self. Before, I would go out anywhere wearing anything and feel like a million bucks. I was a small girl weighing in at 110lbs, blonde hair, and striking blue eyes. My body was perfect with no imperfections, silky and smooth all over. Everywhere I went I always turned heads and it makes you have an understanding with yourself that you know you’re beautiful. I’ve lost that. I’m now a hoarding 170lbs, I still have my blue eyes, though I’ve died my hair red. Because hey, what woman doesn’t die their hair red when they’re going through a crisis? And now, I look like a fucking African elegant. Stretch marks everywhere you don’t want them, and I’ve got a gnarly battle scar. I grew many new moles and freckles while I was pregnant. I look in the mirror and I’m disgusted. I try to not look in the mirror. I’m trying to accept this is who I am now. My body created a whole entire being. Think about it, you were once the size of a grain of rice. Your mother held you inside of her, day in and day out, until you were the size of a watermelon. Then BAM. You were in her arms, she loved you as you grew. Older and wiser, or maybe older and more of a smart ass. Depends on the individual. Hah. Anyways, I’m trying to get to the point of understanding with myself again. I once would walk through a room and feel eyes on me, and think to myself “damn I look good!” Now, when I feel eyes on me I wonder things like; are my fat rolls showing? Is their barf on me? Or just simply, why me? I don’t feel I turn heads for the good reasons, because of my sons father can’t love me, no one can. Right?

WRONG!

My lovely little monkey. What an angel he is. He’s the beat baby ever. He’s not a fussy baby, he eats what he’s given. His smile can light up an entire room. I live for that little guy. There’s day I just want to give up, I can’t do anything but lie on a ball of my own self pity. Then, I take a real good look at my guy and I feel whole again. He’s my saving grace. In so many ways. I always thought when I had a child I’d have it all. Be married, have a house, a career. But no. I’m a bartender working nights to pay the bills. In reality, it’s nice. I spend all day with my son and work all night. It’s exhausting as hell, but it’s what has to be done. I can not give up. I need to show him that no matter what the world throws at you, you have to throw that shit right back. You stand up to bullies, you push through the pain, and you never. give. up. I will do whatever it takes to be there for my son. I will alway love him. He is my pride and my joy, and without him, I would quite literally not be here anymore. He has saved me, and turned me into the best me I can be.

I am sick of women feeling less than what we are because of the pure amount of shit men out through. Day in and day out I still struggle with sucidal idealations and wanting to just not exist. But that no longer an option. What would monkey do without me? I can not abandon all hope when I need to keep believing for him. He is now the bane of my existence. I do everything I do for him. I will no longer give up. I will no longer cower in the face of danger. I am a mother. And a mother always protects her young. In this epic journey of a year I’ve tried to find love again. Only to be, as expected, horribly let down. Men are just dogs. They want what they want. They don’t give a rats ass about your feelings or your opinions. They care about themselves. Weather they already have a child or not they simple do. not. care. It’s horrible. What happened to the men who wore suits everyday? Who would take you out to dinner and then dance with you through the streets making the fondest memories? Was that always just in movies? In this modern world you know how couples meet? Online. I think it’s sad. What happened to meeting your soul mate by running into eachother on the street and spilling your coffee? Or going to your usual spot for a bite to eat and someone catches your eye? Meeting a friends wedding? Growing up together and realizing once you’re an adult you can live without eachother. Fucking anything that doesn’t involve “swiping right”. Society is fucked.

I’m scared. I’m truly scared of the world my son is going to grow up in. Fires rage across the world burning entire continents to the grond, making spaciest extinct, wiping out entire cities, ending what was once people’s entire life. Technology has taken over. Kids don’t go outside and ride their bikes to an empty field and spend the day doing whatever it is their imagination bring up. They sit their lazy asses on the couch, drinking soda and eating snacks while playing video games. I wish I was born many centuries earlier than I did. Well, maybe not so far back as to where woman were nothing but a child bearing slave to men. I just want peace. The world is so angry. The next time you walk down the street take a moment and look around. You don’t see happy people out of a stroll. You see angry people with their headphones in ignoring everyone. You see homeless people strung out on whatever the new drug is begging for you change so they can get high again. You see young kids throwing a fit because their mother won’t let them play on her phone. People don’t smile or wave at people when they walk by. People don’t make friends with their neighbors. All I want in this world is a little more happiness. I could deal with the technology if people were maybe a little happier and little less self centered.

My fingers are having a hard time getting my words down because my brain is just going so fast and my brain is moving so fast right now. I’m truly going to try and start writing me. Not for anyone’s satisfaction but my own. So please, read if you like. But I simply need an outlet. Thank you, and try to smile a little more!