#I can’t add options but I feel like there should be more

[neverenoughmarauders]

Just going to frame this because it’s so true, so important and well articulated:

abuse itself is a complex system of relationships. It’s not just pure sadism, it’s often about a twisted understanding of love where pressure is put on the child — “I’m doing this to you because I love you and want what’s best for you”

And here’s the thing. Stakes don’t matter if your protagonist does not care about them. Something as small as being able to eat a chocolate bar can feel immensely important if the protagonist has just spent chapters telling you how much they want to eat chocolate and how much hard work goes into procuring that chocolate (yes, I am thinking of you Charlie). Yet, I feel nothing when the bridges around New York once more get destroyed in some action movie, why should I?

I quite like a little scene I wrote between Orion and Sirius, and I’ve pasted an extract below. Why? Because SIrius can’t bring himself to speak up against his father because he cares about his father’s option. Later (sadly off page) Sirius goes against his father, which is a much bigger deal because we know there is a cost to it. Not just surviving another curse, but ruining something, perhaps permanently - their relationship:

'You play well, Sirius,' Orion said approvingly some time into the game. 'Am I to understand it that you've found time to play a fair bit, in-between all your school work and mischief?'

Orion raised his eyebrows as he finished the question.

'I play with James Potter,' Sirius said, hating himself for feeling a surge of pride when Orion had complemented his play.

'And he's a good opponent?'

'He is.'

'Better than you?'

'I win more frequently.'

Sirius kept his replies short, unsure whether he wanted to prove to his father how worthy James was as a friend - or how unworthy he was.

'I wouldn't have expected any different from you. Still, that is impressive from the Potter boy.'

As it was not a question, Sirius had nothing to add. Technically speaking, James was likely better than Sirius at Wizard Chess, he just got distracted too easily. But his father didn't need to know that.

'It shouldn't come as a surprise,' Orion continued. 'His mother and father are exceptionally talented - in their own way, and blood matters immensely.'

Blood mattered for shit in Sirius' view, but he couldn't quite muster the courage to say so, not when he was playing against his father. Not when he was spending time with the only intelligent soul in this godforsaken place.

Dear Snuffles, Hope you’re okay, the first week back here’s been terrible, I’m really glad it’s the weekend. We’ve got a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She’s nearly as nice as your mum. I’m writing because that thing I wrote to you about last summer happened again last night when I was doing a detention with Umbridge. (OoTP)

fandom: obviously walburga didn't torture sirius or physically abuse him at all! she grieved him so much when he ran away!! he was her favorite!!!!

canon: *explicitly compares walburga to umbridge right after umbridge tortured harry for 7 hours*

[amywritesthings]

dating on airplane mode. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, dual pov, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics submitted for @levievent 's #levimonth24 / day 22: neighbors

part two. | masterlist

“I'm seeing someone.”

Tea goes flying — metaphorically and physically.

When he confessed a new (and very unexpected) development in his (borderline nonexistent) dating life, Levi hadn’t anticipated Hange Zoe turning directly towards Erwin Smith to unleash a devastating spit-take attack to the face.

It’s a direct hit.

Erwin heroically takes the brunt of the damage, so at least his furniture is spared.

(Levi didn’t need to spend the rest of the afternoon scrubbing down the already scrubbed-down living room.)

Hange’s shout is shrill, the realization hitting them like a full-throttle freight train.

“You’re what?”

“He said he’s seeing someone,” Erwin answers in monotone before Levi can even try. 

The tall blonde extends a hand to leisurely grab the napkin cradling the bottom of his tea saucer. In true Erwin fashion, he doesn’t even blink at Hange’s dramatics — or their consequences unto him.

He raises the napkin to blot the side of his face sprinkled with a mixture of freshly-brewed lavender tea and Hange’s saliva.

(Then again, Hange could abruptly bang pots and pans in the middle of the night and Erwin would merely call it a minor inconvenience to his sleep routine.)

“No, no, I heard what he said,” Hange recovers with a crack to their voice, “but I can’t tell if he’s messing with us.”

“I’m not,” Levi flatly states.

“Okay, but how do we know?”

“Hange—”

Except it’s Erwin intercepting once more. “Because he would never pretend to have a significant other when one of his closest friends happens to be you.”

Hange squints, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose.

“Why? ‘Cause I joked that I’d stalk him the next time he finally found a date? That was one time, Erwin.”

Erwin rolls his neck to the right, offering Hange a pair of thick, disbelieving eyebrows.

“Technically speaking, Zoe, you threatened to stalk either of us if you caught even a sniff that we could be in the midst of a romantic pursuit. Plus, we’re well aware of the disguise kit collecting dust in the trunk of Moblit’s car.”

An instant shit-eating grin passes across their lips.

“Ha. Fair.”

If Levi’s eyeballs could roll any further into the back of his skull, they’d get stuck.

“However,” Erwin adds, those bold blue eyes flickering back towards Levi, “it doesn’t explain why we were in the dark until now. At the very least, we should hope you would feel safe enough to confide in us about someone you are serious about dating.”

Yeah. 

Out of his two friends sitting across from him, Levi figured Erwin would be the most suspicious of the surprise announcement.

Now that it’s been a few days since That Fateful Night, he doesn’t feel as self-conscious to confess his new reality.

It was as good of a time as any to rip the proverbial band-aid off.

(Besides, it was only a matter of mistakes before his friends learned the truth for themselves.)

Hange, Erwin, Moblit — they’re his only remaining connections tying him to this city. The others from his gym days have all found offers in other towns, returned to their old homes—

Moved on.

Meeting Erwin Smith in boot camp changed the trajectory of his life, for better or worse. 

Levi had known the man longer than he knew anyone else — but only by a few days and some change, considering he was destined (Hange’s words, not his) to meet the hyper scientist and their subdued partner, Moblit, in the army as well.

Then, as if attached to the hip, all four of them agreed to work at Erwin’s gym.

When that fell through, Erwin found the Scout Services Hotline.

.

.

— —

.

.

    The announcement came to him one summer evening with a printed job description and a six pack of beer.

Levi assumed Erwin’s confession on taking a sex hotline job had been one weird, shitty joke.

Picturing stoic, pragmatic Erwin Smith telling people how to fuck themselves in their bedrooms late at night for the almighty dollar felt obscene. 

Hell, it was obscene.

Levi didn’t want to consider his oldest friend in such a compromising position, but there it was laid before him without shame or fear of judgment.

Becoming a part-time sex worker for Erwin was as noncommittal as taking up a fleeting niche interest — like exotic bird watching or crocheting sweaters for fucking cats.

“At the gym, we improved upon people’s lives,” Erwin had told him while sipping his beer, staring out to the city sightline from Levi’s balcony. “Who has the authority to say this job isn’t doing something similar to those who may be lonely?”

“You would make yapping on a damn sex hotline prophetic,” Levi scoffed in return. “Selling some shitty porn script a dozen times a night sounds like the closest you could get to Hell.”

“I disagree,” Erwin argued without heat. “When I interviewed, they stated every employee is given the ability to do as they please. To show their strengths and make it their own.”

“Bullshit.”

“It isn’t.” 

Erwin rested the beer bottle on the knee of his trousers. 

“Flexible work hours give me the ability to find another place the gym can call home. The pay would certainly cover any initial costs after several years.”

“Several years?”

Levi frowned, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Erwin… c’mon. Just take a second to listen to yourself.”

“I’m only offering a chance for you to do the same. You may not be fond of people, Levi, but you’re loyal to a stubborn fault.”

Erwin gave him a sidelong glance.

“I know you won’t put in applications to go to any other gym.”

“Tch.”

A dismissive sound was all he could muster at the time.

He always hated how Erwin could open the cavity of his chest and put his damn bleeding heart on display.

“Who says I haven’t been window shopping to pass the damn unemployment time?”

“I wish you would,” Erwin replied with a heavy sigh. “Your skills are better when in use, not lying waste with the rest of us.”

“Hange and Moblit’re doing just fine.”

Hange, a self-proclaimed babbler, returned to Paradis University to make headway on some fascinating research projects side by side with Moblit. 

It was where they belonged, really.

“Fine, then lying waste with me.”

After a beat, Erwin slid his hand across the space between their chairs and held out a slip of paper.

"Look it over. Really sit down and think about what you did for our fighters and see where I’m coming from. You have a knack for leading. Of making people believe in themselves at their lowest."

He made it a point to stop. Stare.

Levi bit his tongue, meeting his friend's stern gaze.

"Conventional or not, you would still be helping people. Even if it’s a job for a month, at least you’ll be putting a hell of a lot of money in your pocket. It's better than waiting for my signal to move on.”

.

.

— —

.

.

    The bastard was always great at a rousing speech.

That night was the night Levi plugged in the damn website and read the job description.

By morning, he had submitted his application for a part-time hotline employee that included an .mp3 file auditioning his voice.

Erwin must have told his boss that he had a life-long friend possibly interested in the position, because by that night?

Levi Ackerman had a job.

A night turned into a month.

A month turned into six. 

Six to a year.

Suddenly denying begging, pleading people from their chased orgasms became as second nature as completing an Excel sheet.

Yet nothing else changed.

Levi still kept to himself.

Considering the friend group worked odd hours — Erwin with his own clientele, Moblit working towards his Masters, and Hange testing the scientific project of the week at the same university when unsupervised — it was easy to.

Wake up. Work out. Eat. Run errands. Clock in for work. Clock out. Eat. Sleep. 

Repeat.

Routine.

Hell, a lot of his life worked like a well-oiled machine until you showed up.

Now his world is slightly spinning off-axis, and he knows:

Without talking to his friends about his (uncharacteristically selfish and) impulsive decision, everything could very well go up in flames.

(Because when it comes to sticking matters of the heart and Levi Ackerman in one room, the former never walks out.)

After a pregnant pause in this three-way stand-off, Hange leans in, pressing both hands onto the tops of their thighs. 

“So when you say you’re seeing someone, you mean like… romantically?”

“As opposed to what?” Levi flatly asks.

“Well, seeing someone could mean anything, especially for you,” Hange reasons. Levi’s eyes narrow when Erwin gives that short huff of air through his nose like he’s stifling a laugh. “You could be seeing someone about finally fixing your dryer.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m just saying, romantically isn’t the first idea that comes to mind!”

“I have to agree with Zoe,” Erwin finally states, shifting his blue eyes to Levi’s. “You never mentioned that you had met someone in our group chat, and you haven’t made any changes in your schedule that suggest otherwise.”

Levi can’t help but scoff.

“Oh, so now you’re following Hange’s goddamn Google calendar?”

That fucking calendar.

The ‘we’re so busy but we can’t lose touch just because the gym went under’ calendar hastily made at two in the morning and sent with a declaration of war if no one accepted the invite.

All four of them did.

(Then again, Moblit didn’t have much of a choice.)

“I check on occasion,” is Erwin’s short rebuttal, before sitting up straighter. “But the former argument stands: you didn’t tell us that you were dabbling in the dating scene.”

“Wouldn’t really call it dabbling, Erwin,” Levi huffs, picking up his tea cup by clawing the rim of the ceramic. “Shit just kind of happened.”

“Uh-uh,” Hange interrupts. “We’re not playing coy right now, Levi. I want details: name, height—”

“Occupation,” Erwin agrees.

“Where they’re from.”

“If they have siblings.”

“Do they live near here?”

“If they’re allergic to cats.”

An involuntary grimace passes over Levi’s face.

“Ooh! We also need to know if they like tennis,” Hange adds excitedly. “Don’t trust someone who likes tennis, spectator or player. They’re always too put together with an underlying layer of batshit crazy.”

Erwin halts mid-sip of his tea. 

“...I like tennis.”

Hange’s thumb and middle finger sharply snap. “Exactly.”

Enough.

Levi hastily pushes his black fringe out of his eyes with his free hand. “I— No, Jesus, can we stop speculating about her?”

“Why?” Erwin challenges.

“Because I told you what you needed to know,” Levi challenges without tripping over his words. “And I’d prefer to keep the rest of myself.”

“Ah, her.”

When he turns his attention to Hange, there’s a wicked glimmer in their eye.

Well, fuck him.

Too much has already been said.

Hange whistles low. 

“So how recently was this fair maiden introduced into thy friend’s life?”

“Don’t start talking like a freak, Four Eyes,” he warns them while they suppress a cackle between pressed lips. “And — fuck, fine. If no one is going to let it go—”

“We aren’t.”'

Erwin interrupts, making it two against one.

With a set glare at his blonde friend, the smaller man sinks further into his chair and sighs with reluctant resolve. 

“I… met her a few days ago. It...”

Trailing off, he sets his tea cup down to rub at his temples with one hand.

This is going to bring on a headache. 

He really doesn’t need it on a work night.

“You’re both going to have an opinion on the how, and trust me, so do I.”

Hange’s face screws up in confusion, but he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

Erwin grows still. Contemplative.

Yeah, he knew this was going to go terribly.

“Huh?” Hange whips their ponytail back and forth to look between both men, smacking themself on the sides of their face. “Why wouldn’t we approve of how? Is it one of the old fighters?”

Levi scoffs, dropping to sit back in his chair. “I’d rather choke.”

“Then I’m not following. You don’t even talk to cashiers at the grocery store.”

“When did she call the hotline?” Erwin asks, cutting straight through the bush instead of beating around it.

His stare is almost indiscernible. Stern.

(Protective.)

The lightbulb clicks. Hange finally settles their attention on him. 

“Whoa — wait, she’s a…”

“Former client,” Levi confesses after Hange trails off. “Emphasis on the former part.”

The room grows silent.

Levi doesn’t have the capacity to see Hange’s true reaction, because he’s keeping eye contact with Erwin.

Their own telepathic argument bounces back and forth like that very proverbial tennis ball Hange had so teasingly laid down.

The ethics of it all;

The logistics of what it could mean for the future;

The gravity of this choice and knowing its weight is crushing him.

Erwin’s gaze softens a fraction.

Levi’s shoulders relax, if only a little.

“And how did that opportunity come to pass?” the taller blonde finally asks, but it isn’t as harsh as Levi anticipated. 

Hell, it’s curious.

Willing — to not judge; to hear him out.

“Accidentally stumbled into her at the bar down the street,” Levi confesses.

Stumbled is an understatement.

.

.

— —

.

.

    “So then — what does this mean?”

He doesn’t know.

God, he has no fucking clue.

Just like he had no fucking clue you’d be at this bar tonight; that you not only lived in the area, but in the same goddamn building just a few floors south.

You were meant to be a fluke thing.

A moment of weakness.

An anomaly he could solve like every other problem in his life, one he could reason to death and move on from once you realized that this hotline is a slippery slope to financial debt.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t meant to be real.

The calls, the laughter, the exchange of stories felt real, but that’s the selling point.

Imagining idealism.

He could send as many discounted invoices as he could to management to ease the cost of your calls, but there was only so much he could do from his position.

Still—

That being said, he wanted this.

For the first time in a long time, he wanted something.

Ever since Erwin’s gym went under and the staff were forced to find something else in the interim, Levi Ackerman turned off his emotions. His passion.

Money was tight. 

Bills were bills. 

But there are worse things to do than apply to a remote-working sex hotline with the promise of flexible hours, medical insurance, and the opportunity to get away from people for a while.

Maybe he hadn’t realized he was simply going through the motions of buying a morning tea at the coffee shop down the street. 

Maybe he hadn’t noticed that his drive to push himself to the brink of exhaustion at the gym all but disappeared.

Maybe he existed to simply exist.

Then you called.

Petra had pinged him to let him know that there was someone looking for a deep voice — not surprising — with a tendency to overtalk and overthink.

Easy.

Those types always cave the second you call them a pet name or sprinkle a little praise.

Yet you burst into his life like a damn firework to the face and he’s never recovered since.

Being nervous is a staple on these calls. He’s heard every justification in the book just as he’s witnessed people use the hotline like they’re robots.

You wanted to talk.

Petra doesn’t send people to him if they want to talk.

(Did she know, somehow, that he needed this?)

Conspiracies aside, the last two weeks became some of the best of his life.

Now you knew his face, and he knew yours.

And Christ, you were beautiful. 

Your voice was one thing — like a soothing balm to his insomnia — but your face nearly took him right the hell out.

Even in the mirror backsplash of the bar, he couldn’t stop staring. Didn’t want to, not when he finally saw what he wanted right in the palm of his hand.

So he was honest.

Honest about his life, his job, his black hole of an existence — maybe to scare you away so you’d choose better than a guy like him.

That he was the first to break the rules.

That he was sorry, because you weren’t looking for more baggage after a shit breakup with a shithead of a guy.

You didn’t care.

So he decided to rip a page out of his goddamn advice book:

Be selfish.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

Autopilot.

Everything is on autopilot when he picks up that damn pen and starts to scribble on a napkin, allowing his nervous system to suckerpunch his logic right out the damn window.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow—”

Bail.

Bail, bail, bail, before you make a damn fool of yourself, Levi Ackerman.

He doesn’t.

He straightens his spine, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand. 

The heat of it almost makes his stomach clench.

If he were bolder, then maybe he’d steal you away from your friends. Keep asking questions to make you talk more. Watch as your eyes light up about your favorite things—

He can’t. Won’t.

You’re with your friends. He’s already taken enough time away from them for you.

“—give me a call.”

Maybe he’s chickenshit for running, but at least there’s a part of him brave enough to leave him his personal cell number in the palm of your hand.

Before you can say anything, he drops some money on the counter to pay for both drinks and a tip and leaves to walk home.

To contemplate.

(Assuming you likely won’t call. He wouldn’t blame you.)

The night air leaves a sobering sting on his cheeks as he steps outside.

It’s considerably quieter than the cramped space of the bar, but cabs bustle in the street.

His pocket vibrates not once but twice.

(So not a text.)

Fishing his phone out, Levi squints at the ‘Unknown Caller’ ID staring up at him.

He swipes right to accept said call, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

His heart falls out of his ass.

Whipping back around to the tinted windows of the bar, Levi can’t help but look for that now-familiar face.

You’re blocked by an endless sea of conversations and bodies, but he still searches.

“My schedule just opened up,” you tell him from the other side of the line, your voice airy like you hold a secret. “I know it’s a little late for some coffee, but — are you free for some tea now?”

Shit.

Maybe he should be giving the headset for the hotline over to you.

“Depends,” Levi exhales. “Any shop worth a damn is closed at this hour.”

“Shit, you’re right.”

He liked it when you cursed. 

Hell, he liked it when you weren’t afraid to be yourself around him the most.

“There’s a pop-up shop about six floors above yours,” Levi reasons with a shrug he assumes you can’t see; autopilot, “if you don’t mind walking a neighbor home.”

.

.

— —

.

.

    “You said that?”

Hange, now at the brink of teetering off of their chair, gawks.

Levi blinks twice, realizing he’s given more of the story than he wanted to.

That they know it’s serious — dead fucking serious for him, actually — and that you’re his neighbor.

Yeah, he didn’t believe it either until you said yes.

“What?” Levi asks. “Something wrong?”

“No, that was just fucking smooth, dude,” Hange whistles low, impressed. “Pop-a-button-and-open-a-window kinda smooth. Holy shit.” They thumb towards Erwin. “You teach him to talk like that!?”

“Self-taught, I’m afraid,” Erwin hums. “Can’t take the credit.”

Hange flops back into their chair unceremoniously. “Jeeeez.”

“Six floors down, then?”

There’s a rare tint of pride in Erwin’s tone, like there’s a joke somewhere in that question he isn’t saying. 

Levi immediately narrows his eyes.

“Yeah. She’s been my fuckin’ neighbor all this time, if you can believe that.”

He sure as hell can’t. The fact that you’re six floors away — have been — has kept him up at night.

He could run down there right now and show you off to his friends.

He could leave you home-cooked meals if you’re running behind at your office job.

He could do a lot of things, but—

“Is she requesting you to end your time at Scout Services?” Erwin asks, interrupting his trailing thoughts.

Levi’s stormy eyes meet a contemplative, oceanic stare.

“...no.”

A beat passes.

Despite his trepidation, he explains himself.

“She’s not asking me to quit it. Says she gets it, a job’s a job, but I don’t know how true that’ll be in the long run.”

“And you believe her?”

He knows Erwin’s skepticism isn’t unfounded, but it sets a fire in his belly.

Questioning you, the newfound gravity keeping him grounded on planet earth.

(You're just a stranger to him, too, at the end of the day, but you don't feel like one. Not really.)

“I can’t expect anyone to stay neutral about what the fuck it is we do, Erwin," he reasons diplomatically. "I can say everything on my mind and put it on paper, but I’m sure the doubt will still creep in. Everything’s too new to tell. It won’t be easy, but it…”

He sighs, running his hand once more through his straight-and-narrow black hair. 

“I just need you two dumbasses to keep me in check. I can’t—”

Hange frowns, and he hates the sympathetic tone they take when they say his name. 

“Levi—”

“Four Eyes,” Levi interrupts stronger yet weaker in resolve, effectively shutting down their protest, “I can’t fuck this up. So don’t let me.”

The air grows thick, like winding vines corrupting the foundation of a tree.

Levi glances between the two of them, nostrils flaring with unspoken difficulty.

Erwin is the first to nod. Wordlessly, but he does.

Hange sighs with conclusion not a second after and nods, too.

“Am I at least allowed to ask one thing?” they chirp, holding out one slender finger to the sky. “Just one teeny, tiny thing — yes or no.”

A part of him really wants to say no.

A part of him really wants to say this conversation is over before he gives them anymore concrete information about you as he navigates these uncharted waters of being a not-so-normal boyfriend to a very-normal-ass person.

He fights.

Fails.

“...fine,” he grumbles. “The fuck’s the question?”

Hange perks up, all too smug.

“Did the pop-up shop six floors up line work?”

The memory blossoms in the back of his skull.

His body warms as if trapped under an electric blanket, heat setting cranked a little too high. 

Instinctively his eyes flicker to the front door of his apartment.

Like you’ll burst in at any moment with your work bags and stress and the hope that he’ll have the same soothing balm you’ve gifted him, hands at the ready to fix your problems for you.

He hasn’t wanted much.

He’s never wanted much, but—

Shit, if he doesn’t want to be good to you.

“...something like that.”

.

Author's Note:

AHHHH HI EVERYONE! WE'RE AT IT AGAIN WITH MODERN!LEVI SHENANIGANS! How are we feeling to be back?

I seriously cannot believe we're here. I've never done a sequel before, but the demand was overwhelming and I couldn't help but agree: we could do with learning what happens after the final call.

And we will, in this seven (maybe more?) part series. I had to actually break up part one because it got way too large of a chapter, so I promise we'll be picking up right where we left off in P4 -- like, quite literally That Fateful Night in part two.

[saltburnedme]

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again

Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)

You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.

‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.

‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.

‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.

You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.

The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.

You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.

‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.

‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?

‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.

‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.

‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.

‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.

‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.

‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.

‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.

Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.

‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.

Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.

Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.

You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.

Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.

‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.

‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.

‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.

‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.

‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.

‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.

‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.

‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.

‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.

Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.

‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.

His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.

‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.

‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.

Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.

‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.

‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.

‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.

‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.

‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.

Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey

[agirlwithglam]

How to be the “it girl” in school ✨💁‍♀️

Academic validation >> external validation (boys, girls, etc.) : academic validation should always come first if you’re in school. ALWAYS. Your grades and your knowledge will take you far in life, not the approval of some random kids who you probably wont ever even see again. You need to know your priorities.

Romanticise it!: make school fun! Romanticise it. Act like the main character because you ARE the main character and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!

Study for tests: part of being an “it girl” is actually getting good grades. And how do we get good grades? By studying!! Romanticise studying if you want. But just study. Study study study until you can’t get it wrong. Also- stop working just on motivation. Create a routine or schedule where you get in studying everyday and STICK TO IT.

Confidence: walk, talk and act with confidence and confidence only. walk as if you OWN the room. Know that you are worth a million dollars, OWN THAT. Believe in yourself and your abilities. Remember: “you can’t fit in if you were born to stand out!”

Stop caring about what others think of you. people will hate on you and THATS OKAY. Some people will literally hate on like everything. I heard once (from thewizardliz) that there will be a video of cats playing on the internet and there will be a person that figures out how to hate on it. There will be people who just have nothing to do in their lives except try to bring you down so you need to just ignore it. Be protective of your energy.

Style: it’s okay to hop onto different trends, but try to find your own style. It’s okay if your school has a uniform, you can add a ‘signature’ piece of jewellery to your outfit to make you feel a bit better about yourself. Also use a certain scent/ perfume on yourself that just makes you feel a bit more.. ✨you.✨ (also remember it’s perfectly alright to change your style if you get bored once in a while!)

Good hygiene: brush your teeth. Comb your hair. Shower. Make sure your lips aren’t crusty musty dusty. Iron your clothes. Make sure you feel fresh and clean everyday.

Be kind: dont be mean if you have no reason to. If someone comes up to you politely asking a question or talking to you about something, dont give them a side eye, dont look at them as if they’re a clown, be polite and respectful. No one, and i mean NO ONE likes someone who’s rude. You may think it’s cool, but rly.. it isn’t. It’s just icky. Give genuine compliments, smile, treat others to make them feel special. Although do remember that THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BEING kind AND BEING A people pleaser!! Have boundaries and prioritise YOURSELF FIRST.

It girl emojis to use (optional): ✨🩷💌💋🐩🪩📚🎧💗💄🌸👑🎀

Xoxo, Vanilla

[slytherinboysvip]

Controlling Tom Riddle

Honestly idk what to classify this as, but it’s kinda like idk.. deranged? maybe not but I have more like this up my sleeve if it does well (TW: manipulation, unspoken gaslighting, extremely controlling, idk what else to add)

You loved Tom. You truly, truly did. But he tended to take the term "I just want to lock you up" a little too seriously.

I mean, it wasn’t much at first, barely even noticeable in fact. Simple things such as suggesting what you should wear, insisting the more modest options were much more flattering on you; “It brings out your eyes, doll.”

He would remind you of your favorite foods, and when to and when not to eat them.. “Not now, it’s far too late for late night snacks. However, I have something I think might suffice for you.”

Overtime the helpful things became him controlling everything you wore, no shirts were allowed to be low enough cut for anyone to see down- tall people included. You wanted to comfortably wear your uniform? Absolutely not. It had to be perfect, and to show just how much of a “good girl” you are for him, you get cute bows in your hair every morning; special spell from him.

His behavior didn’t bother you, how could it? Yes you couldn’t wear certain things, but everything you got in return was amazing. Nobody understands him the way you do, they don’t know him like you do. That’s what you’re constantly telling your friends. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s romantic.”

Romance? It really is funny how blurry the lines get between romance and control, dress up per se? Once again with the dressing you- believe me, he spoils your beyond belief. Though, most of it is “My eyes only.” Slowly your closet went from things you’ve gotten from friends, shirts you once loved, to everything Tom approved.

It didn’t matter though, because he still spoils you.

Being in class was an entirely different story. In the beginning you simply couldn’t speak to any other guys, you understood, not wanting him interacting with girls either it seemed fair. Until you couldn’t sit with any of them, problem being, its not like you can just chose where you sit everytime. That doesn’t matter to Tom though, “You seemed to betray me today hun.” Nice name, yet the tone anything but.

It was pretty sudden when Tom just happened to to become your seating partner in every single class, and yes, that somehow included ones he once hadn’t attended. But this was a good thing. You got to be with your boyfriend all day long, that’s so exciting. Watching your every move, telling you what you did wrong on your work “Can’t have a dumb girl, can I doll?”

It was sweet. He was being helpful, you always had help. Just don’t ask for too much, then that makes you stupid, idiotic, dense. That’s according to him though, and yes his words. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’d do without me, you’re just so mindless most of the time. It’s infuriating”

But no matter what it’s always okay because, “You know I never mean what I say, Love. I’ll take you out, even buy you something new”

You see, none of this happened quickly. It was like one moment you controlled your life, the next moment you didn’t. You lived in his dorm, once again don’t ask how, Tom Riddle has his ways. He chose your outfits the days no uniforms were needed, but of course only because “I just love picking out what my girl wears, you love it too, don’t you, hm?”

Now here you are, unable to speak to anyone really, no boys, no friends because well, they only attract unwanted male attention of course. It was crazy to think you’d leave your friends behind for a boy, not just your friends really more like your entire old life, but Tom wasn’t just any boy. No, he had full control over you and you both knew it. You loved it.

I know im saying idk a lot but idk how i feel about this 😭😭

once again i hope you all enjoy <33

[a-b-riddle]

Know Your Place (2)

The knot of guilt had twisted into straight up anxiety. You didn't do repeats, but fuck if you didn't want to feel Johnny's mouth against you again. He treated you like you wanted to be treated: cared for and absolutely defiled.

It was electrifying.

And it terrified you.

You rarely canceled hookups when they had gotten to the point where the one night delight had sent you confirmation of their STD panel. Yet here you were sprinting to the hotel where you had met Johnny a month ago.

And when you walked back into that lobby, it was dejavú.

He was sitting at the bar; eyes glued to the door. He’d been waiting. Just like last time. Maybe that's what had set the night off to such a different start. He wasn't scrolling on his phone or making idle chit chat with the bartender to pass the time. He had made it known in subtle ways that as much as this may have been a means to blow off steam, it was about being with you.

With as much confidence as you could muster, you sauntered over to him, heart fluttering wildly in your chest. His tight navy blue Henley was doing him and you a favor. His denim jeans would undoubtedly hug his ass in such a way it was make you and sculptors envious.

The bastard was handsome and he damn well knew it.

"What changed yer mind?"

Fuckkkkkkkk

Fuck. You remembered he had an accent, but fuck you forgot how it practically made you pray that he was the type of man who liked to dirty talk, give directions.

Prayers: answered.

You shrugged. Trying to come off as nonchalant when in reality you couldn't get out of that lounge soon enough. "I wanted to do it again." Jesus. Be a little less brash. "With you." You quickly add. Fuck, why was this so awkward. "I wanted to do this again with you."

Those blue eyes scaled up and down your body, taking you in. It didn't matter that you knew he wanted you. It didn't matter that he had seen you naked. It didn't matter that he had told you multiple times how fucking stunning he found you. There was always that nagging feeling in the back of your head going

Is he looking at my stomach? God, I shouldn't have worn this. i should have worn spanx. I look like a busted can of biscuits.

The ugly thoughts almost made you shift in discomfort under his gaze, but you held firm, reciting your mantra in your head.

You are desirable. You are worth pleasure. You are in control.

“Ye want it like last time or are ye goin’ to let me fuck you properly?” And just like that, your confidence was taken down a peg. You had took penetrative sex off the table for about two years. It wasn't anything traumatizing, it wasn't painful. It just wasn't as good.

You've found that there was an assumption that bigger girls were able to take it more roughly. And after a few times of men treating their dicks like battering rams, intercourse was a course that was no longer on the menu. Plus with the only option being oral, you mostly always came and your partners were far more enthusiastic. Win-win.

“I can’t cum that way.” You crossed your arms, your tits perking up in hopes of making him remember how good it felt to titty fuck you. How hot you looked with his cum all over your face and chest. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you decided to relent. He gave you the best not one, not two, but three orgasms of your life and if you had stayed like he had asked, he probably would have given you several more. At this point you were curious. If his mouth can do all those deliciously despicable things, you wanted to know what his cock could do.

“Don’t get upset if I don’t.” You ordered, not caring if the bartender heard you. “I haven’t faked it since college and so my pornstar moaning may not be up to par." Johnny smirked before shooting the rest of the amber colored liquor in front of him.

He stood up, practically towering over you before leaning in and whispering, “Oh, I’ll have ye moanin’ just fine, Bonnie.”

Yep.

Definitely curious.

There was no foreplay this. No slow undressing. Not delicately exploring each other's bodies. It was feral and carnal and something neither of you had anticipated. Not even desire, but pure need to be touching each other again.

Johnny's shirt was the first thing that was taken off, and before the door had even fully closed. His mouth was on yours instantly. Tasting you as if it let him breathe easier. His hands worked at the zipper of your dress with expertise. Not allowing it to fall from the floor before he started working on your bra. His mouth never leaving yours.

You normally would reprimand a date for their eagerness, but you needed this just as much as he did. Needed his hands on you, in you. And more importantly you knew that Johnny can deliver you to paradise on a silver fucking platter.

By the time both of you were fully undressed, the sound of soft pants filled the room as if both of you had forgotten to pull away from the other's lips and come up for air. When you did, your brain went on autopilot.

You sank down to you knees in front of him. One hand resting on your thigh while the other took hold of him. He sucked in air through his clenched teeth as one of his hands made its way home into the crown of your hair.

Seeing him stare down at you with glossy eyes and an open mouth made you promptly spit on the head of his cock. Stroking your hand up and down to coat his entire shaft.

"Fuckin' Christ," he groaned. "I dinnae stand a chance with you, did I?" You weren't what he meant. Did he think he was the reason you initially didn't want to meet up again? Or was it something else? No. It couldn't be.

In response you gave his shaft a tight pump. And another. And another. Rolling your wrist against his already leaking head. Not breaking eye contact you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock before taking the tip in your mouth. Flattening your tongue and teasing the slit, feeling the ridges underneath before taking him deep into your throat.

Tears prickled your eyelids as you felt him pulsing in your mouth. "That goddamn mouth." His eyes shut in concentration. "Need ye to stop before I fuckin' cum, Bonnie." It was a warning that you didn't plan on listening to. At least not until his grip in your hair tightened, still soft enough not to be painful, but firm enough to make your soaked cunt clench.

"Naughty fuckin' minx." he growled hoarsely. "Think I'd just come down your throat and we'd be done?" You nod, his hand loosening with your movement. "You'll have to be punished for that. Trying to make me cum two minutes in like a goddamn school boy." His blue eyes burned into you. You had almost wished he came if not to give him the same euphoric feeling he was giving you, right now and without even touching where you ached the most.

"Open your thighs and let me look at that pretty pussy. " His voice was gravely and stern. You leaned back, pressing your palms against the cool hardwood floor as you parted your thighs. He wasted no time in crouching down and sliding his fingers through your slick folds.

"Fuck." You whimpered as he softly grazed your clit with each stroke. Never missing.

"This all mine?" He asked. You let out a weakened yeah before your body bucked. "So sensitive." His mocking tone pulled out that masochistic part of you that loved to be degraded. "On the bed, on your knees."

You got off your knees, feeling the blood return to your feet from being in such an awkward position on the floor. You obeyed his orders, letting him take control even though that was not what either of you had in mind.

"So what are you gonna do?" You attempt to add a sense of mocking to your tone, but you're breathless. Definitely getting in some cardio tonight. "I'm not much into corporal beatings. I'm a fan of the occasional swat, but not really a get over my knee and count type of girl."

"No, but I plan to make you beg to cum," he said, the hair on his hair tickling your back. "And make you see how good you can take my cock."

He gripped your cheeks, kneading and spreading them before settling his eyes on what he had been after. "So I take it you're an ass man." You say it with such casualty he had no choice but to bark out a laugh.

"No, Bonnie," he answered, giving the flesh a firm squeeze. "I'm a this-ass man." He leaned forward, stroking his tongue over the puckered ring. Having to hold you by the fat of your ass, giving it a squeeze to keep you in place.

"Oh my god." Your hands gripped the bed sheets, mouth hanging open and eyes clinched shut. Fuck. Oral was on the table, but neither of you had talked about rimming. Most guys you knew never mentioned it and honestly with how some men kept up with their personal hygiene, you weren't exactly up for returning the favor. But if Johnny made you feel like this, you would gladly reciprocate.

He brought his hand down, stroking the back of your thigh, his tongue never stopping as he slid two fingers inside you. You instinctively slid your knees further apart, granting him easier access.

Good pet. If Johnny's tongue hadn't been working your asshole he would have delivered the words of praise just to gauge your reaction at the name. Pet.

"I'm so close." You moaned. "Please don't stop." Your pleading was cute, but it wasn't enough.

"No," he said, slowing down his fingers. "I'm not gonna give it to ye' til yer beggin. Ye' wanted to make the rules. No penetration. No repeats. Ye' said ye' don't cum from fucking and I'm about to break that rule too."

You weren't sure if it was agony or the best thing you ever felt, but he resumed his work. Only slowing down when you began to rock against his face and tighten around his fingers before he would slow down or pull away.

After the 8th time your orgasm escaped you, you kicked your feet against the bed in the cutest fucking tantrum the man had ever witnessed. "Johnny, please!" you begged.

"Please, what?" He teased, his breathe now blowing against your weeping, sore cunt. "What do you need, Bonnie?"

"Please make me come. Please fuck me. Pleaaaaassseee. Just let me come." You practically squealed out when his fingers entered you again. Pressing your face into the pillow you able to muffle your pitiful, pathetic cry.

"Fuck ye?" He taunted, curling his fingers as he kneeled behind you. The tip of his cock brushing against the inside of your thigh. Fuck. It was too heavy to even go upright. "Thought that sort of thing didn't work for ye."

"Johnny, please." you said, shaking your ass like a bitch in heat. Looking for more friction. "I can't-- fuck-- you have to--- please." You couldn't think you just needed this knot inside of you to unwind before it ripped you apart.

"Ye beg so pretty for me." He said, stroking his cock as you started to lose your mind. "Makes me almost feel sorry for ye, but you need more control than that." He tsked as he took his hand out and brushed the back of his fingers against your puffy cunt. Stifling a laugh as you jerked away. "Is it too much?" He asked, lining his cock up and stroking your folds.

"Please." You whimpered and that was it. Johnny knew that you weren't leaving him a second time. Not when he looked in the mirror to the right and could see how your mascara began to run down your face. You're the perfect girl for them. The perfect pet.

"Tell me, Bon. Need me to finish ye' off?" He asked pushing the tip in and only pulling away when you attempt to throw your ass against him. Huffing when he did.

"Yes!" You cried. "Please please please."

His hand snaked around your throat, cupping your jaw before he turned your head to look into the mirror. Your bodies glistened with sweat and the sight was something you would keep stored in your memory forever.

"I want ye you to see how fuckin' gorgeous you look while yer takin' my cock." He growled out, his tone darker than you had ever heard him before.

"Yes, sir." You breathed out. Another remind on how you'd adjust easily with them.

He slowly slid into you and for that you were thankful. The burn of the stretch equaled the pleasure that coursed through you as he filled you.

His slow deep thrusts made your head swirl. Over and over, the sounds of your sopping wet cunt and soft moans and groans escaping the two of you. You braced yourself as he started picking up the pace, but it still wasn't enough. You still teetered on that edge, so close to tipping over.

For several minutes he fucked you knowing that you were so close to coming, but being too much of a sick bastard to give in without you showing him how desperate you were for it.

"Rough," you eventually sobbed, your back arching as your head fell against the bed. "Want you- rough, please." You choked back a scream as he drove his hips foward.

"Keep those fucking eyes open and don't you dare cum until I tell ye' to," was his only demand as he held onto your waist and fucked you how he wanted to that first night.

Sounds of slapping flesh and soft whimpers filled the room as Johnny brought you to seeing the face of god.

"Johnny Johnny," you squealed your orgasm gaining on you. It wasn't until you felt his thumb applying just the right amount of pressure on your asshole did you begin to fall apart. "fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."

Some books say that orgasms are like seeing stars or electricity coursing through your body. In reality it is waves. Waves of euphoria crashing down. It's that high you get from holding your breath too long and taking that much awaited breath.

Johnny's orgasm quickly followed and when you felt his cock pulsing inside you, it brought on another orgasm. Johnny hissed as you tighten against his now sensitive cock, but admiring the sight when he pulled out.

His spend leaked out of you.

"Guess we got kind of caught up. Dinnae even think about getting a rubber." It wasn't an apology, but he at least wanted to seem like he was sorry for coming inside you.

"UDI." You replied, eyes closed and head still reeling from the aftershock of that second orgasm.

"What?" He asked, making you realize you were incoherent and most likely stroking his ego even more.

"IUD, fuck, sorry." You correct. He let out a chuckle before you rolled over, arm covering your eyes as you try to gain some You felt his cum begin to slide down to your thighs. "I'm gonna go clean up." You inform before rolling awkwardly off the bed, if not to save the poor maids from having to see the evidence on the sheets.

When you came back into the room, Johnny was on the bed. Still naked as a jaybird with his softened cock resting against his thigh.

This was always the awkward part. The departure. The gathering of clothes and minimal eye contact.

"Well, I should be-" you started bending over to retrieve your bra before he stopped you.

"If ye fuckin' leave like ye did last time that ass of yours will be meetin' my belt, now lay down."

"Excuse me?" your tone is more confused if anything. He said it without a hint of anger, authority or sterness and yet you had to refrain from scurrying into the bed.

"I get ye' may not be a cuddlin' type of gal, but I am a cuddlin' type a man. Leaving me without the proper aftercare isn't a good look on ye, Bonnie." He threw you a lopsided grin. His hands resting on the back of his hands, making you want to see if riding those biceps of his would get you off as easily as it would riding his face.

"Besides," he shrugged. "Ye' came before I let you."

"I tried to hold it off." You argued before dropping your bra back unto the floor and crawling next to him. "I just never had to."

"That's the whole point." He said, rolling over to face you. "Seeing ye come undone whether ye want to or na." He scooted closer. The front of his body touching yours as his hand came up to cradle your jaw. Lightly brushing his thumb against your bottom lip as he spoke. "And ye'd been so adamant about not being able to cum on my cock. Such a good girl for me."

"So you're not going to punish me?" You tried to mock, but were actually curious about what kind of man Johnny really was in bed. He had no problem taking control, but what other kinks did he have lurking below the surface.

"I can punish ye," he winked. "but I think ye might like it too much." You huffed air out of your nose, wanting to bury your head into his chest, worried that the action may be too intimate for what this was.

What you were.

[haunted-planes]

Some train facts that may help for your living train oc:

(From a dude who is a train mechanic and casually drives subways and city trains for years.)

Trains eat a lot of sand, some prefer mixtures with oil and other minerals but no matter what train you choose for your oc, sand is a crucial substitute for a healthy and happy train.

Rails are lubed by trains. The more trains drive on the same track the smoother the ride. (Fun idea if you wanna follow a train’s traces.)

Trains, including electric trains require a variety of oil, lubes, fluids and other liquids to operate. (Fun ideas for food or cosmetics products for trains. Fr, some materials look so freaking delicious)

Sudden and fast movements are painful for trains and can bend trails. Trains are powerful but they need more time to build up speed.

Subway trains have a burning hatred for pigeons. The amount of dead pigeons in tunnels is INSANE, despite all efforts to stop them from entering tunnels, pigeons are very passionate about flying into their dead trap.

The newest generation of trains panic about little intervention. Very anxious and scream at lot (at the driver)

All trains have graffiti on them. If it’s not outside then it’s on the inside.

Street trains or bims are like chihuahuas in my eyes. They may be small but they are thought and ready to fight anyone.

Modern Trains have several cameras inside and outside, they can see all around their body or what their passengers are up to.

Some trains are whiny bitches and constantly need service while others never complain about anything for years. (There is a fucked up reason for that but that’s a deep rabbit hole I won’t go into the details)

You don’t want to meet train drivers, they’re insane.

You absolutely don’t want to meet subway drivers, they’re insane beyond measure.

Trains honk at everything that’s near their trails.

Trains are surprisingly quiet while moving on trails. They can take you by surprise. (They did many times) Please stay away from trails.

Stopping a train is difficult, it’s nothing like a car or truck, When they arrive into a station, trains hit their brakes way before they can see the station. That’s why trains can’t stop in time when there is an obstacle on the rails.

All trains have ONE head. Most modern trains rear and front end look exactly the same, both ends have cockpits with very similar controls but their main controls are located on the head. They look like that to confuse predators.

This is optional but it makes sense to me that trains are very sensitive about their rails, they treat them like it’s part of their body, especially the ones in their region and base. You can’t compare them like cars on the road, it’s a completely different dynamic for trains.

That’s all for now, I started writing this in July and collected ideas over the months from my personal experience with driving and fixing trains. I will probably do a part 2 since I still have a lot to learn. You should be able to look up everything on the internet.

Feel free to add your own ideas below.

[dokries]

you need some soup!

pairing: lee seokmin (dokyeom) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.5k

warnings: sick fic™, mentions of medicine, food and you know…being sick (having a fever/being tired), a kiss on the cheek, minghao is a saviour pharmacist, seokmin is loud

author note: basically, i want a seokmin. this is so funny because i wrote this before i became kind of sick…did i predict the future again…anyway, i hope you enjoy my rambling turned fic ♡

masterlist

seokmin wishes he got to know you earlier. he tells you this often actually, almost to the point where you’re tired of hearing it—you could never be sick of seokmin though; that would be near impossible. 

however, you can literally be sick, which is exactly what your warm forehead and cold hands are telling you. you would ask your boyfriend to bring you home some medicine but seokmin’s at rehearsals for his upcoming musical, and you don’t want to burden him—he had been stressing about his voice the other day, and you know how hard it is for him in general. you’re not planning to add onto his already heavy load, considering that you’re seokmin’s comfort movie, as he affectionately likes to call you. he always talks about how he could watch you all day, and—yeah, you need to get up for some medicine and stop dwelling on the love of your life, no matter how fun it may be. 

you check the bathroom cabinet despite knowing that what you're looking for isn’t there. you sigh before rubbing the heels of your hands in your eyes, mentally preparing yourself to make the much needed trip to the local pharmacy. 

after a painstaking walk that feels much longer than three minutes, you enter the cool air conditioned building. you wave at minghao, making your way to the front counter. 

“hey, minghao,” you say, taking shallow breaths to calm yourself after your short walk—yikes, something’s definitely wrong—and minghao notices.

he frowns at your demeanour, calling your name softly. “are you alright…? do you need me to call seokmin?” minghao asks hesitantly, already pulling out some medicine from underneath the desk to place in front of you.

“no!” he raises an eyebrow at your immediate refusal before you continue, looking down at the options he lays out for you to take. “i…you know how stressed he’s been with the opening show coming up, right? i don’t want to worry him more.” 

minghao sighs, moving his hand slowly to your forehead to check your temperature, so you don’t get startled. he pulls back after a second, adjusting his glasses and wincing. “you definitely have a fever, though it’s not too bad…yet. i would recommend taking this one.” he pushes one bottle closer to you than the others, concern in his eyes. 

“tell seok—” he corrects himself with an eye roll at your glare, “call our number if you need anything, okay? i can deliver it to you if needed. make sure to rest, okay?” he gives you a pointed look, ringing up the bottle for you after you nod, and lets you pay before handing you a paper bag with your purchase inside. you smile wearily at minghao, giving him a wave as you leave, making your way back home. 

once the medicine goes down your throat, you flop down onto the bed. you check your phone for any messages from your boyfriend, and can’t help but smile slightly at what he sent earlier.

seokmine 🌻 ❙

SWEETIE IM SO SORRY

the staff said i probably have to stay longer so i can get my clothes fitted again :((

i’ll try to get home as soon as i can though 🫡

see you soon my love ♡

you ❙

take your time minnie <3

i hope your rehearsals went well though! i’ll be waiting at home for a full recap >:D

you groan, your phone suddenly too much to look at. yeah, maybe you should do as minghao says—he does have a degree after all. you place your phone on the nightstand beside you before closing your eyes. 

seokmin’s panicking in the dressing room, his eyes more focused on the foreboding text from his pharmacist friend than the tailor trying to get his measurements. 

first of all, the fact that he has to be notified of your health from minghao offends him. do you not trust him to be there when you’re sick? he shakes that thought off, as well as the tailor that had (sadly) been assigned to him, who sighs. seokmin apologizes frantically to them, before letting out a breath. he hasn’t been able to police you about taking care of yourself recently because of how busy his schedule’s become but he didn’t expect you to get sick. what would you do without him? …okay, seokmin knows you would do a lot without him but still. he wants to do everything he can for you, even if you can do it yourself. 

he texts you, his hands working as fast as they can, and frowns when you don’t respond right away like you usually do.  

seokmine 🌻 ❙

honey you alright??

hao texted me saying you’re sick ☹️

i’ll be home in a few i promise

honey?

seokmin’s tailor notices the worried expression on his face, and gestures for him to just leave; they could always take measurements some other day. as soon as they finish talking, seokmin’s face lights up and he bolts. he’s gone before his fellow cast members can wish him a good day, and he calls you as soon as he turns his car on. when you don’t pick up, he bites his lip and his leg shakes up and down quickly.

did you take the medicine minghao promised he gave you? are you not picking up because you’re asleep? are you collapsed on the bathroom floor, weeping about how if your minnie was there with you, you would be fine and actually able to walk to—okay, that was probably a bit much. however, seokmin can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as he waits impatiently for the car in front of him to move so he can make that final turn into your neighbourhood. 

he unlocks the door as fast as he can, and as soon as he walks in, he finds it too quiet for his liking. he hurriedly takes off his shoes and throws his bag onto the couch in the living room before checking the bathroom to see if he was right in thinking you’re in there. seokmin lets out a breath when he doesn’t see you, thankful his overactive imagination isn’t reality.

he peers into the bedroom at first, and as soon as he sees your sleeping figure, he just about sobs, pulling the door open dramatically—he is a musical actor after all. “MY LOVE! I THOUGHT YOU FAINTED OR WERE CRYING OR—” your boyfriend yells, falling onto the bed and cutting himself off as he presses his face into your outstretched arm.

you rub your eyes sleepily with your other hand, slowly registering that it isn’t a dream, and your boyfriend really is grabbing onto you, about to sob. you cover your mouth and yawn before placing a kiss on his forehead with a smile. “i’m fine, minnie!” 

seokmin looks up at you with a pout as he checks your temperature with a peck on your cheek. you giggle at the gentle motion as he leans back to look at you once more, his voice whiny as he calls your name. “your face is so hot! you’re definitely not fine.” 

you roll your eyes before pushing him away softly, not wanting him to get sick too. seokmin glares at you jokingly before getting up with a sigh, realizing that he can’t risk getting sick, even if he wants to cuddle with you all day. 

his shoulders drop before he sighs again. dear god, someone would think he’s the one who’s got a fever. you push yourself up to a sitting position, and seokmin’s immediately by your side, fixing the pillows so you’re comfortable. you give him a look, and he backs away to the other side of the room. 

“since i can’t cuddle you like i want to, i’m going to make some soup! you look like you need some anyway.” seokmin smiles softy as he backs away toward the door, blowing you a kiss because he can’t actually give you one. 

you grin before blowing one back, and he smiles before frowning in frustration. “oh, i wanna kiss your sweet face so bad, this isn’t fair!” he groans as he walks back to the kitchen. all you do is giggle before grabbing your phone from where you kept it before.

you ❙

minghao i love you

thank you for sending min my way ♡

haohao 🤞 ❙

???

oh right

you’re welcome

tbh seokmin would’ve been really upset if i hadn’t

you ❙

HAHA yeah…

minghao i’ll be a loyal customer until the very end !!

you are my one and only pharmacist for life !!

minghao for president 🫡

haohao 🤞 ❙

…okay? thanks for the support i guess

you two are so in love with each other aren’t you

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts

f1!driver!Jason x reporter!Reader

A/N: i know i said that i felt like writing a toxic f1!driver!Jason, but my mind always reverts back to fluff and hurt/comfort. i can’t help it. :( So ENJOY <3 comment if your comfortable, let me know your thoughts, and please check out the art that inspired this fic (F1 Driver, F1 Driver Pt.2 and F1 Driver Pt.3) i’m proud of how everything came together \(^~^)/ ALSO I SEE THOSE OF U WHO SPAM LIKE, REBLOG, OR COMMENT ON ALL MY WRITING (I LOVE ALL OF YOU) it makes me geek out fr

The story will continue! Here is pt. 2 HEHEHE

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, sudden roy harper appearance???,

Word Count: 3.7k

The lights were bright, rapid flashes brightening every angle of Jason’s face as he stood in front of multiple cameras.

His sweat pricking his forehead and running down the sides of his face, shimmering from the light, making him even more attractive as he finally felt the sun on his skin after a race.

His racing helmet clasped in his hand, towel in the other, dabbing at the sides of his neck. His hair perfectly messy from his win.

Fans screaming his name, reporters trying to get his attention. A man finally stopping him in his tracks, shoving a microphone closer to him, surpassing those who were also trying to talk to the star in question.

“Jason, we have seen your name repeatedly throughout racing legacies, what’s the secret to having such a great career?”

Jason continued to walk again, waving at fans, effortlessly pleasing the crowd one look at a time. The reporters and photographers following him like pigeons flocking to food on the ground. Shouting to repeat his name.

After dabbing his towel to his face, he turned back to look at the interviewer. A sparkle in his eyes.

“You’re lookin’ at him. What else do I need?” Jason smugly smiled, briefly making eye contact with the interviewer as he spoke, the interviewer’s face slightly reddening. Giving his classic swoon worthy smirk, fans erupting behind him trying to get a glimpse.

Just another day as one of the world’s best racer.

——

Jason had arrived late, his ball cap worn nicely on his head, his classic Red Bull uniform snug around his fit physique.

Bright lights burned down on him, giving the cameras the best lighting. Jason’s flaws were being watched like a hawk, ready to be shown, but he confidently walked to the microphones.

He let out his signature smile, a quick wink to the nearest interviewer, tapping the microphone in front of him.

Repeated thump thumps echoed through the speakers as he sat down, his management team not far off the stage as he took one of the two seats. The other driver no where in sight, his bright orange hair nonexistent next to Jason. The iconic duo not yet together.

Multiple hands raised, ready to ask Jason any big questions they had been saving for the past twenty minutes until one of the two men decided to join. The press conference should have started once his companion arrived, but journalists weren’t patient people.

“Mr. Todd! How does it feel to add another win to your belt and beat your own record?” A bright young man asked from the crowd, his glasses bouncing off his nose.

Jason laughed, pride taking up the entire room.

“I didn’t know there was any other option.” Jason leaned into the mic, giving a show of his arms crossed, muscles on the table in front of him.

You could practically hear the fans screaming through the camera as you sat a couple rows from the racer. You were surprised his ego didn’t push you off your seat when he arrived.

“Jason! There is talk that your contract is near its end and you are possibly thinking about changing teams, what are your thoughts?” A blonde woman asked two rows in front of you.

“I always think of my fans first, I want to carefully consider everything when I make that decision. Plus, I can’t deny how good I look in black.” Jason teasingly tilted his head.

A quiet scoff left your mouth.

It was now or never, you didn’t know how loud the room was going to get once the second racer arrived.

You raised your hand, standing up to talk face to face to Formula 1’s hottest driver, Jason Todd.

Well…face to face was pushing it, there were other reporters also trying to get their chance with the ever bright star.

But a press conference was a press conference, if you don’t make yourself known, you don’t get to ask any questions.

Once Jason’s focus landed on your standing form, he nodded at you, giving you permission to speak.

Returning the courtesy, you nodded your head.

“Gotham’s greatest has returned.” You smiled, notebook in hand, voice even.

“Please, no need for an introduction.” Jason chuckled, interrupting your sentence as the rest of the crowd laughed with him.

Charmer. You thought.

Patience has always been your virtue, too many people tested you in your line of work, but you could handle someone as spontaneous as Jason Todd.

“Not only do you have the skill, you have the money, and the team to back you up. You are engineered for success.” You explained.

Jason chuckled, charming smile broadening at the compliments.

“You have such a nice way with words.” He relayed through the microphone, projecting his husky voice throughout the room, gaining another laugh from the crowd.

“But your Chief Technical Officer is leaving this season, digging a huge hole in your team. His legacy changed the engineering of your vehicle because he introduced you to your legendary car. Putting you and your other driver, Roy Harper, in a position of possibly seeing your racing careers coming to an end as your CTO retires.”

“You do have a way with words.” Jason repeated, irritation pricking at his skin, but keeping that picture perfect smile for the camera. You smiled again, a tiny bit wider at his strain.

“In other words, your fans are wondering, if your car can’t be at it’s top shape, there’s only so much skill you can perfect before technology surpasses you and you can only see the rear wing of all your opponents.”

Ouch. Jason thought, smiling through your verbal jabs, but none of the amusement reflected in his eyes as he stared at you.

“What did you say your name was?” Jason sat up straighter, his tone lowering. He was used to mindlessly giving eye contact, giving that mind numbing attention that most people on the internet fawned over.

This time it was different, he focused in on the reporter standing not far from his seat, never lowering their eyes from him.

You smiled, slow and calm, basking in causing the change in the flirtatious F1 driver.

Now you had his attention.

“All legacies come to an end, Mr. Todd.” You continued, never answering his question. “Now that your CTO Elainey Usoro is confirmed to leave, will we be able to witness your legacy end in the upcoming season?”

“Aren’t you jumping the gun? Of course my name will continue to be recognized.” Jason scoffed.

“But will it be recognized as the star that lost its fame?” You nudged again.

Jason’s face went neutral, observing you. You stared back, not wavering in your eye contact, a calm diligence.

A tension blanketed the conference room.

Roy threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders in a friendly manner, leaning against his driving buddy as he also threw a flirtatious smile. His laid back demeanor cut up the tension filling the room, the reporters getting oddly quiet at the sudden back and forth of you and Jason, but saved by the second driver’s arrival.

Roy was as fashionably late as usual, throwing a kiss towards the management team on the side lines. His iconic bright hair covered in a backwards ball cap.

They erupted his name around you, as you stood above the crowd.

Roy waved his hand, playfully mimicking a royal princess addressing his loyal subjects as he kept his arm on Jason.

Despite the noise around you, Jason kept his look at you.

Once Roy was done getting in his crowd pleasing, he spoke.

“Sweetheart, just ‘cause Usoro is leaving doesn’t mean we get cars tossed in from the dump. The position will just be empty until the next season begins. I can promise you we aren’t taking off our uniforms any time soon. I look too good with the words ‘Red Bull’ across my abs.” Roy cheekily grinned, toothpick in between his teeth.

Roy Harper. You thought.

One coquettish athlete was one thing, but two had the potential to test you.

“I hope to see those results, Mr. Harper.” You calmly smiled. You glanced back to Jason. “Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Todd.”

You sat back in your chair, your badge displaying your name and company around your neck. The symbol recognizable to Jason, but he had reset to his usual coy responses before he did anything about it.

And the press conference continued as usual, the fans loving Jason, interviewers taken with him. They tried to trip him up like you had, but no one had pricked him as much as you did.

——

The chair you sat in was uncomfortable.

Luxurious restaurants had the weirdest looking furniture, twisted in odd shapes to make it more appealing to the rich.

The mood lighting set low to create a kind of intimacy most fancy restaurants aimed for.

Jason sat across from you, waiting on his dinner for the night.

“Thank you for meeting me today, Mr. Todd. The place you chose is…quaint.” You eyed the indoor waterfall and the huge chandelier.

“You should have ordered something, this place is known for its seafood.” Jason smiled, crossing his arms across his chest.

A much too expensive watch on his wrist, in too expensive clothes, in a too expensive restaurant.

Your outfit was formal, you thought it fit the atmosphere of the restaurant and you were only here for business. The contrast of the two of you looked like a boss and his employee from afar. Awkward and not on the same level of pay.

The salary of Formula 1 drivers would make any person look plain next to them.

“I shouldn’t because we’re here to discuss about you.” You plainly said, posture straight.

Jason stared at you, the shadows on his face chiseling out his features more than usual. Casually leaning into his chair.

“So, tell me, Mr. Todd—“ You formally started.

“Call me Jason.” He leaned his arms on the table, more of his face coming into the light, his wrist watch glistening in the warm light.

He probably has his own personal jeweler that shines his watch everyday. You judged internally, your left eyebrow raising. A nonverbal “really?” unconsciously stemming onto your face.

Jason’s smile growing wider at your reaction.

“Well…Jason,” You awkwardly corrected, face going back to neutral. “Our interaction last week has gained…interest. I’ve been told that your management is interested in us discussing another interview, just the two of us?” You picked up your glass of water, gently sipping.

Jason was weirdly silent, watching intently at your moves and words.

“Tell me about yourself.” You continued, gently laying your cup on the glass table. Placing your notebook next to it and a simple pen. The plain stationary complimenting your equally plain outfit.

“Jason Todd, F1 driver, signed onto Red Bull, haven’t changed since.” Jason’s food arrived. “The podium is practically my home, the stuff everyone knows. You could quickly Google all of that.”

You stayed quiet, mindlessly writing his quotes in your notebook. Not much effort put in your handwriting.

“But no one is interested in that.” Jason took a bite, glancing back at you as you stopped writing.

“Why not?”

“Okay, ‘lil reporter, let’s be real for a second. The reason why the internet wanted us to meet again is because of how we interacted.” Jason continued to eat. “You have no interest in me, despite your line of work.”

You put your pen down. Really listening.

“I may not be interested in your career, but I do have a passion in what I do.” You defended yourself, tone firm.

“I’m familiar with your work.” His nonchalance apparent in the way Jason sat. His voice leveled, none of the familiar coquettish attitude in front of you. The real Jason was sitting there.

“You are?” You stammer in confusion. You hadn’t expect his shift in demeanor or that he knew about you.

“Duh, that’s why I tried asking for your name last week, but someone thought it was cute to ignore me.” Jason sipped on his water.

Your mouth formed into a firm line.

You knew that there had to be another person underneath all the on screen charisma, but you didn’t expect to meet him at this dinner that was set up. Hell, you even expected getting cancelled by all his hardcore fans the next morning after the press conference.

“Look, I wasn’t interested because everyone knows you. You rightfully made a name for yourself and I had chosen another athlete to interview that day, but it was scrapped because the ‘great’ Jason Todd, shining beloved driver, had made a comeback after you had flopped for a short while.” You breathed, catching your breath.

Jason stopped eating, watching you look at the notebook on the table, a single sentence written on the blank page.

“Ouch, lil’ reporter.” Jason looked up from his plate, his eyes sparkling at something interesting he’s heard.

“I wanted to interview a woman changing athletics, but I had to drop everything to meet you at a press conference you were twenty minutes late to. So, yeah, I wasn’t overjoyed to meet you that day. I’m sorry if I was rude, you weren’t the one who rejected my story.” You slightly huffed, the most emotion you’ve shown Jason.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Jason enthusiastically put down his fork. “Finally some honesty, I was questioning whether you were a robot.”

“Huh?” You had expected Jason to be mad.

“Bad things happen, but we were told to put this together. So, forget the sports stats, let’s show them something a lil’ different.” Jason smiled, a genuine smile that didn’t look at you any differently after you vented out your frustrations about him.

“Like what? Get to know the real you?” You flatly said. “Sounds kinda cheesy.”

“I love to talk about myself, so why not?” Jason shrugged his shoulders.

You sighed.

“Okay—okay, let’s start with—“

“No, no, no.” Jason interrupted you. “Not here, hell no.”

“You chose this place, I thought this was what you wanted.” You questioned.

“The company chose this, I don’t like seafood.” Jason replied, blankly staring at you.

“What?!” You nearly yelled, self-consciously looking at the other tables, nodding an apology.

Jason laughed, truly laughed.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asked, smile reaching his eyes.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied, lost in the development.

“Great, we’ll meet for dinner.”

——

You ended up outside of what appeared to be local restaurants, packed inside an outdoor lounge area, surrounded by furnished secan containers locking in the structure.

It was beautiful with the hanging string lights illuminating the seating area.

You looked in awe.

“You’re on time.” Jason’s voice rung on top of your head, behind you.

You turned around, surprised at the sudden silent appearance and the casual clothes he was in, no fancy watch, his clothes looked like normal department store ones, and his hair was messily down.

“Ten minutes late? That’s a new record.” You quipped.

“Ha!” Jason laughed. “I almost didn’t recognize you in casual clothes. You almost looked less robotic.”

Jason leaned down to give you a once over like he was evaluating your outfit.

“Quit it, I’m starving and whatever smell is coming from that side is changing my brain chemistry.”

Jason smiled, following behind as you led yourself by your nose.

“Holy shit.” You took a moment after your first bite.

“Woah, the robot cusses. What a scary lil’ reporter.” Jason teasingly shook his head, taking a bite after his teasing. “Holy fuck.”

“Right?!” You smiled, eyes squinting at your cheeks lifting.

Jason, lost in the food, chewed, taking in all the flavors.

“I could die in this moment and ask the paramedics to pass on my final wish, to thank the owner of the food truck over there.” You sipped your beer.

Jason stopped eating, pausing to look at you.

“What?” You questioned his stare.

“You actually have emotions.” Jason kept his face blank.

“Shut up, I would throw this at you if it didn’t change my taste buds.” You frowned.

Jason laughed. His shoulders shaking from the movement.

You noticed his smile was different. He had actual smile lines on his face, his eyebrows grew softer. It wasn’t the usual look he gave after his races.

“Is this what the incredible Jason Todd does when he isn’t wearing his Red Bull uniform?” You tried to casually prod into his life.

“How smooth,” Jason whistled, catching onto your nosiness. “I came here a lot with my brothers.”

“Wow, Wayne family lore.” You kept your eyes on your food, trying to deter the atmosphere away from the sad tone coming from Jason.

“Not the best history there.” Jason quietly spoke, picking at his food.

“A rich boy with family issues, I would have never guessed.” You smiled at him, playfully punching his shoulder. “I might be a reporter, but I respect boundaries. I don’t like the work of others that invade privacy for selfish reasons, bombard children of celebrities, and other awful reasons. So, trauma dump or not.” You smirked.

“Wow, lil’ reporter is all grown up.” Jason dramatically wiped the corner of his eye, wiping nonexistent tears.

“Never mind, I already know the title of the article.” You flatly said. “Rich, charismatic—“

“Aren’t you a charmer—“

“Pain in the ass, reckless, thorn in my side—“ You continued.

“Okay, alright, that’s enough, I get it.” Jason smiled, despite the harsh words.

You raised your left eyebrow, not fully convinced.

Jason used his thumb to rub your eyebrow back to its normal spot, you closed your eyes, moving your head away from his playful harsh rubs.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there.” Jason reassured. “You’ll get my all my issues, the one time I was mugged, the reason why I don’t drink, and all my kinks.”

“What?!” You shrieked, Jason laughing at your reaction.

“I’m kidding, I was never mugged.”

You threw your dirty napkin at Jason.

——

After the fulfilling dinner, you got Jason’s number, set another date for a lunch, and you were happy.

It had been a while since you had time to enjoy a meal, no work blurring into your off time.

You could never admit to Jason that these meals felt like dinners with friends, not work at all.

Jason had suggested that you choose a spot. You decided on ice cream, not a lunch spot or a decent meal to talk over, but he didn’t complain.

You sent a location to him for a spot near the harbor.

You met each other, the weather getting colder after the F1 season was over and the new norm of adding a jacket to your daily clothing.

It felt idiotic to get ice cream in cold weather, but it was too late to change now.

Jason came five minutes late this time.

“You’re getting better!” You yelled between your cold hands. “Almost brought a smile to my face!”

You fought a smile as you saw Jason jog to your waiting spot.

“I couldn’t let my lil’ reporter wait too long in this cold weather.” Jason’s breaths fogged around him as he caught his breath. Teasing your cheeks into a slight blush, but maybe that was the cold weather.

You put your hands back into your pockets, trying to keep any warmth in them.

“Let’s go, before the ice cream melts.” You joked, walking away from Jason.

“Why ice cream?” He questioned, catching up to your side.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Don’t you get those cravings for hot chocolate in summer and ice cream in winter?”

“No, only robots think that.” Jason smiled.

You swung to punch his shoulder. Jason didn’t even bother dodging, taking the hit with the biggest grin on his face.

“I’m glad this isn’t a live interview again because if I wasn’t cancelled for giving attitude to you at the press conference, then your fangirls and boys would berate me after this.” You spoke, ears red.

“They wouldn’t do that. They just love trying to get me in as many love scandals as possible.” Jason rubbed the edge of your ear with his fingers, they felt warm to the touch. “Been a running joke for a while. Last week they thought I was dating a valet guy and previously they thought it was a some lady at the auto shop.”

“Does that explain the edits of you with some taco stand guy?” You smirked.

“Aw, you looked me up.” Jason cooed.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You laughed as you walked into the ice cream parlor. The two of you walking in and a pair of teenagers sat alone in the shop.

“One scoop of strawberry please.” You asked the teen worker, you looked at Jason, silently asking for his order.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Do I get the pleasure of you treating me to ice cream?” He teased.

“Just order.” You told him, feigning frustration.

“Banana split please.” Jason excitedly told the worker.

“Wow, really taking advantage of me.” You pulled out your card.

Jason pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, placing it in the tip jar.

You smiled to yourself.

As you sat with your sweet treats, Jason was devouring the ice cream.

“Y’know, now I get why you get this craving.” Jason scooped another bite in his mouth.

“No more robot talk from now on.” You eyed him.

“Sorry about that. I just wanted you to act like yourself. You look better like that.” Jason mindlessly played with the left over ice cream at the bottom of his plastic tray, a small smile forming on his face. “People getting angry at me turns me on.” Jason smirked, his coquettish personality coming back, but it didn’t annoy you as much as it did before.

You choked on your ice cream, the realization to his words in your eyes. You looked back at the other teenagers in the shop, they were in their own world, not paying attention to you.

“Relax, they don’t care about us.” Jason laughed.

You glanced back at him, weighing the thoughts on your next words.

“I bet my praise would be more effective.” You scooped your last bit of ice cream, finishing it.

Jason’s laughed boomed in front of you. He was smiling like a little kid, it lightened your heart.

“I never know what comes out of that pretty mouth.” He couldn’t stop laughing.

Your ears reddened at his words.

You nervously played with your spoon.

Words. Yes, they were just words. No need to overreact.

“Wanna walk by the harbor? I think I need to walk off all this sugar.” You asked Jason, getting up to throw away your empty cup.

The air outside was freezing, but your ears burned.

[callsigns-haze]

Can you write something with Y/n and Tyler going baby #2 shopping and it's just cute and fluffy with them and Hazel and maybe add some spice but not when Hazel is there hehe. It can be anything! thanks.

Another 2

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler and Y/N take their daughter Hazel baby shopping as they prepare for the arrival of their twin boys, savoring a day filled with love, laughter, and the anticipation of expanding their family.

Warning: Brief suggestive content and fluffy family moments.

The morning sun streamed through the nursery windows, casting a warm, golden glow over the room as Y/N and Tyler stood side by side, watching their three-year-old daughter, Hazel, play with her stuffed animals. The room was a blend of pinks and blues, the latter added in preparation for the twin boys who would be arriving soon. Hazel’s giggles filled the air as she carefully arranged her toys in a row, her little brow furrowed in concentration.

Y/N rested a hand on her growing belly, where the twins were nestled, and exchanged a smile with Tyler. “Hard to believe we’re doing this all over again,” she said softly.

Tyler wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Yeah, except this time it’s double the fun,” he joked, looking down at Hazel with a grin.

Hazel, noticing her parents talking, looked up with bright eyes. “Are the babies coming today?” she asked with the innocent curiosity of a child.

“Not today, sweetie,” Y/N said with a gentle smile. “But soon. We need to make sure we have everything ready for them first.”

“Which is why,” Tyler added, crouching down to Hazel’s level, “we’re going on a little shopping adventure today. You ready to help us pick out some cool stuff for your brothers?”

Hazel’s face lit up at the prospect of an adventure. “Yes! I want to pick the toys!” she declared, bouncing on her feet.

Tyler laughed and scooped Hazel up into his arms. “Alright, little one. Let’s get going.”

The baby store was a whirlwind of colors and options, from tiny onesies to double strollers designed for twins. Y/N held Hazel’s hand as they strolled through the aisles, while Tyler pushed the cart, which was quickly filling with essentials.

“Oh, look at these!” Y/N exclaimed, holding up two identical sets of tiny shoes. “One for each of the boys. Aren’t they adorable?”

Tyler leaned in to take a closer look, grinning. “We should get a matching pair for Hazel too. Can’t leave her out.”

Hazel, who had been eyeing a display of soft blankets, tugged on Y/N’s hand. “Mommy, can we get this for the babies?” She pointed to a light blue blanket covered in little stars.

Y/N smiled down at her. “That’s perfect, Hazel. You’ve got great taste.”

Hazel beamed with pride as Tyler added the blanket to the cart. “You’re going to be the best big sister ever,” Tyler said, giving Hazel’s hair a playful ruffle.

As they moved on to the furniture section, Hazel’s excitement only grew. She eagerly pointed out cribs, rocking chairs, and anything else that caught her eye. Tyler and Y/N laughed as they indulged her suggestions, knowing that Hazel was taking her new role as a big sister very seriously.

After a while, Hazel started to tire out, her earlier enthusiasm giving way to the inevitable crankiness that came with being three years old. Noticing her yawns and rubbing eyes, Tyler suggested they take a break.

“There’s a little café just outside,” he said, adjusting Hazel in his arms as she started to get heavier with sleepiness. “How about we grab something to eat and let Hazel rest for a bit?”

Y/N agreed, and soon they were sitting at a small table in the café, Hazel nestled in Tyler’s lap with a piece of toast in hand. She was quiet now, her eyes drooping as she leaned against her dad, content to let him do most of the eating.

Y/N sipped her iced tea, watching them with a smile. “You know, it’s hard to believe we’re going to have two more little ones soon. It feels like just yesterday we were bringing Hazel home.”

Tyler glanced up at her, his eyes warm. “Yeah, and now look at us. We’re pros at this whole parenting thing.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Y/N teased, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Twins are going to be a whole new adventure.”

Tyler squeezed her hand gently. “Yeah, but we’ve got this. And we’ve got Hazel to help us out, right?” He looked down at their daughter, who had already started to doze off.

Y/N laughed softly. “If Hazel stays awake long enough, that is.”

By the time they returned home, Hazel was sound asleep in her car seat, clutching the starry blanket she had picked out for her brothers. Tyler carried her inside and gently laid her down on the couch, covering her with a throw blanket. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her little face peaceful and serene.

Y/N set the shopping bags down in the living room and joined Tyler by the couch, watching Hazel sleep. “She’s going to be such a good big sister,” Y/N murmured, leaning against Tyler.

“Yeah, she is,” Tyler agreed, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist. “And you’re going to be an amazing mom to three little ones. I don’t know how you do it.”

Y/N smiled up at him. “Because I have you,” she said simply. “We’re a team, remember?”

Tyler leaned down and kissed her softly, his hand resting on her belly where their twins were growing. “Always,” he whispered against her lips.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, their future bright and full of love. They knew there would be challenges ahead—sleepless nights, double the diapers, and the chaos of raising three children—but they also knew they would face it all together.

And that was all that mattered.

Later that evening, after Hazel was tucked into bed, Tyler and Y/N found themselves in the nursery, sorting through the day’s purchases. As they arranged the tiny clothes and set up the new furniture, the reality of what was coming began to sink in.

Tyler, always the planner, was checking off items on a list, making sure they hadn’t missed anything. Y/N watched him with a smile, loving how dedicated he was to their growing family.

When the nursery was finally set, Tyler turned to Y/N, a playful glint in his eye. “You know, we haven’t had much time to ourselves lately,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “And whose fault is that, Mr. Owens?”

Tyler stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. “I’d say it’s our combined efforts,” he teased, his hands sliding to her hips. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Y/N laughed softly, looping her arms around his neck. “Neither would I. But I do think we deserve a little alone time.”

Tyler grinned and leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. “How about we make the most of it, then?” he murmured against her lips.

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and she nodded, letting Tyler lead her out of the nursery and toward their bedroom. Tonight, they’d savor the quiet, the closeness, and the love they shared, knowing that soon, their lives would become even fuller, even more chaotic, and even more wonderful.

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[milkoomi]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ a guide to preparing for a new semester ᝰ.ᐟ

part two

previous

i wanted to add a few more tips from the previous post i made for this! it won’t be an entire series, but i got to thinking and realized there are other things i wanted to discuss!

let’s begin !!

ᝰ.ᐟ sleep schedule

it’s extremely important to get 7-8 hours of sleep every night. i feel like this idea of pulling all-nighters and doing these extreme study sessions are almost glorified amongst students. everyone dreams of being the “perfect” or best academic weapon, but let’s be honest here: sacrificing your sleep— your health— will only make you sacrifice your grades.

there are countless studies out there that show the importance of sleep, so please make sure you’re getting a good amount of rest! your brain needs to recharge just as the rest of your body does! matter of fact, your body can’t function unless your brain has the energy to provide that functionality.

creating a sleep schedule

go to bed and wake up at the same time every day. i created this post on getting better sleep & creating a good nightly routine! i always try to be in bed and asleep by 10:30pm and wake up at 6:30am. not only do i get my desired 8 hours, but it helps me maintain my routine!

no screen time 1 hour before bed. i mentioned this in the post i liked previously, but it’s seriously so important to stay off your phone when you’re trying to go to sleep. i stop using my phone around 8:30-9pm and ever since doing so I’ve gotten much better sleep and it’s been easier for me to fall asleep!

ᝰ.ᐟ fuel your mind

this point i’m about to make is purely my own opinion and what has genuinely helped me just get through my day, but: eat breakfast. i am a firm believer of “breakfast is the most important meal of the day” because there were days i didn’t have breakfast and i felt dead inside. like seriously! without that nutritional energy that my body and my brain needed, i just felt so lethargic and exhausted.

i know a lot of people tend to skip breakfast, but even as your day progresses it’s important to make sure you get that brain food in your system. whether it’s a good snack or a great meal, make sure you have something in your system!

juno’s fav breakfast meals

oatmeal with slices of banana!! i usually have the Quaker brand (the maple & brown sugar is my favorite) and then i just add some banana slices! really quick and easy, but still something filling and nutritional!

avocado on naan bread!! i usually make this when i have more time in the mornings just because i like to add either a fried egg or some bits of bacon on my little breakfast sandwich! you can also substitute the naan bread with a bagel! i also like to spread a little bit of cream cheese on the bread!

yogurt and granola!! this is another quick & easy breakfast option i love! i use just about any yogurt that i might have in my fridge and then i add granola! i’ll also add any fruit that i’m feeling that day (especially if the yogurt i have is just plain)!

ᝰ.ᐟ change your mindset

i know a lot of have had this mindset of “i have to go to school/to study” but instead we should have a mindset of “i get to go to school/to study!”

when we view school or studying as a chore, our mindset can quickly change into something that doesn’t motivate us and that makes us hesitant to focus our minds on our academics. getting to have an education is a privilege and we have to treat it as such. we’re lucky enough to be able to attend school/college/university, so we have to make our time learning and studying worth it.

when you think of school/studying, think to yourself how blessed you are to be able to take the time you have and put it towards your education! change your mindset so that you feel motivated to be in school and to study!

ᝰ.ᐟ final notes

how you treat yourself and your health and how you view school can either make or break you during this new semester. so, i’m going to repeat myself once again: take care of yourself! your health, your mental well-being, and your mind all need to be taken care of if you want to excel during this semester and throughout your academic career! you also have to remain positive, burn out and frustrations with your education are very real things, but you have to make sure you’re able to pick yourself back up when things start going south. i truly hope this new semester for those of you still in school is a great one! always do your best because your best is enough and always remember to take good care of yourself and be kind to yourself!

with lots of love, juno 🌷

[gojozballs]

Gojo x Reader x Geto "Squid Game"

Warning: [This story contains Yandere themes, possessive and obsessive behavior, graphic violence, gunshots, and blood]

Materialist

Part 3

In a deadly game where survival is the only option, Y/N, with a painful injury, relies on her two protective boyfriends, Satoru and Suguru, to navigate the perilous chaos, unaware that the true threat lies right beside her

Y/n's POV

Once again, I find myself in the room, a place where survival doesn't mean fighting for our lives at least, not yet. The air around me feels sterile, yet suffocating. It's a toxic mix of dread and denial that clings to the walls and presses on my chest as we sit to eat the tiny portion of food. My head spins as I try to process everything: the deaths, the sacrifices, the mind-numbing futility of it all. Lives lost in an instant, snuffed out like they never mattered.

And yet, the worst part? The nagging fear that my boyfriends might be next. The thought twists my stomach into knots.

God, I feel so fucking stupid for even being here.

“Hey, baby. What’s got you so lost in thought?” Suguru’s voice cuts through the haze, his arm draping around my shoulders like it can shield me from the weight of reality.

Satoru glances back, his striking blue eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous glint. “Just so we’re clear,” he announces, loud enough for the whole room to hear, “I’m not sharing my food.” His voice is so random, so absurd that I can’t help but chuckle despite everything.

Suguru snorts, clearly unamused. “You’re full of shit. Didn’t you just feed her your food last time?”

“I was only talking about you, babe,” Satoru grins, his eyes twinkling as he shoves a piece of bread into my mouth with far too much confidence.

They’re always like this joking, bickering, pushing each other's buttons. Even here, in the middle of a deadly game. It’s both a comfort and a curse. Because when they shift gears? When the game begins? They turn into something else entirely. Something terrifying.

“I hope we win this time,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just want to leave. I don’t want any more of this.”

Satoru hums, popping a bread into his mouth and eyeing me with that devil-may-care smile. "Well, let’s just pray the ones who begged to stay already met their unfortunate end..”

I frown, the bitter taste of unease crawling up my throat, but before I can say anything, Suguru adds, so casually, “We made sure at least one of them did.”

My heart drops, the food in my mouth suddenly sour. “What… what do you mean?”

Satoru smirks, leaning his chin on his hand like this is some inside joke I’m too slow to understand. “Don’t overthink it, sweetcheeks. Some people just aren’t cut out for survival.” His tone is smooth, but there’s a cold edge beneath it that sends a shiver down my spine.

Were they serious? Or were they messing with me? I can’t tell anymore, and that’s what scares me the most.

Dread

"The votings will now begin..." The announcement echoes through the room, a chill running down my spine. A heavy silence fills the air as everyone rises, some frantically whispering their last prayers, others nervously laughing, awaiting their fate. The tension is suffocating.

"How cruel," I mutter under my breath, my gaze flicking to the men beside me. I can feel the weight of their presence, their proximity pulling me in, both comforting and suffocating.

“Y/N, you’re standing too far away from us,” Suguru’s voice cuts through the murmur of voices, his hand suddenly on my arm, pulling me closer. I’m wedged between him and Satoru, the pressure of their bodies making my breath hitch. It’s protective, possessive like they’re making sure no one can get too close.

I should be grateful, right? But there's a strange gnawing unease in the pit of my stomach. What if something happens to them? What if I can’t keep them safe?

Before I can get lost in my own thoughts, it’s my turn to vote. I take a shaky breath as I step toward the platform, the chaos around me escalating people shouting, crying, pleading. The noise is overwhelming. But I don’t care. I press the red button with a trembling hand. I just want out of this place, away from the madness, the fear.

Then

A collective groan, followed by cheers and cries, fills the room as the decision is made. We’re staying. Another round. Tears sting my eyes, and before I can stop myself, they spill over. I hiccup, my sobs coming in uneven gasps, and I can't hide them anymore.

“Hey, hey, sweetie,” Suguru’s voice is soft, a contrast to the storm of emotions inside me. His hand tilts my chin up, his gaze intense as he meets my eyes. “It’s okay. It’s okay, shhh…” He pulls me into his arms, but no matter how tight he holds me, I can’t feel at ease. I want to scream. I want to make it stop.

“I got you both into this,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath. “You two always protect me, but… but I’m the one putting you at risk.”

Suguru and Satoru exchange a look, but their faces are unreadable, a shared understanding flickering between them. Suguru pulls back, his hands still cupping my face, his touch gentle but firm. He wipes away my tears, his gaze softening, but there's an underlying intensity I can't quite place.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice low, every word wrapped in something that feels almost… dangerous. “Look at us. We’re here because we want to be. We chose to be with you, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if that means playing these games again and again.”

His thumb brushes over my cheek, the softness of the gesture masking the unspoken promise in his words.

“Besides,” Satoru interjects with a smirk, his attempt at lightening the mood falling flat. There’s something darker in his eyes, something calculating. “have you seen me out there? I’m a pro at this. You’ve got the best of the best protecting you, baby.”

I try to smile, but it doesn’t reach my heart. How could I not love them? They’re the only thing keeping me anchored in this nightmare.

"Sweetcheeks” Satoru adds, his voice dropping, his tone laced with something darker. “This is our decision. To be with you. To protect you. Nothing else matters. Understand?”

Before I can ask how they even got here, how they managed to bypass the system, I’m struck by the nagging thought that keeps haunting me. They’re too loaded with money to have been invited into a game meant for people desperate for cash. I can’t fathom how they managed to slip past the system, how they of all people could end up in a place like this.

The thought lingers, a sickening twist in my stomach, but before I can voice my confusion, we’re interrupted by the announcement of the next game. My heart thunders in my chest. I want to stay lost in their presence, to bury the questions and unease that are gnawing at me, but I know I can’t let my guard down not in this place.

We’re ushered into a new room, and my eyes dart around. The doors are different colors reds, blues, blacks each one more unsettling than the last. It feels… off. I turn to Suguru and Satoru, hoping for some sign of reassurance, but their faces are unreadable, their eyes sharp and calculating.

“What game is this?” My voice trembles slightly, and I can’t hide the unease in my chest.

“This one’s easy,” Satoru says, his smirk returning, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The cold calculation in his gaze gives me a chill. They're already thinking ahead, plotting moves, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of fear. I swallow hard, my stomach tightening.

Then I see them. Yuuji and Nobara. Their bright smiles stand out like beacons in the gloom, their youthful innocence a stark contrast to the twisted world we’re trapped in.

“Y/N-oneesan! Thank god you're doing okay!” Nobara calls, her voice bright and innocent, as though none of this is real.

“Yeah and we’ll get through this game, together again!” I say, trying to muster some semblance of courage. I don’t want them to see the fear that’s clawing at me from the inside.

But before I can say anything more, the voice of the game master booms, cutting through the silence like a knife.

“The next game will be ‘Mingle.’ A number will be announced, and you must quickly find your group and enter a room before the countdown ends. Failure to do so will result in elimination.”

The words echoed in my mind, and the first thought that came to me was that I had to prioritize them Suguru and Satoru. I groaned inwardly, the weight of the situation settling on me. This game… once again, I was going to be a burden because of my leg injury.

Let The Game Begin

The platform beneath us begins to shift, spinning slowly, and I’m pulled against Satoru’s side. His arm around my waist tightens, holding me steady as chaos erupts all around us.

“Four!” the announcer’s voice booms, and without hesitation, Suguru grabs my hand. Together, the three of us dash toward the nearest door, just making it through before another man squeezes in behind us.

Before I can catch my breath, Satoru pulls me into a dark corner, his body pressing close against mine. “Stay close, sweetcheeks,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with something dangerous and sweet, all at once.

The man inches forward, his eyes darting nervously between us. I glance at Suguru, who stands still, eyes locked onto the guy with an almost predatory focus.

"Two!"

The number echoes through the speakers, and my heart drops to my stomach. I gasp, spinning around to face them. “Y-you guys go with each other!” I shout, but my words feel useless. It’s like they’ve already planned it out in their heads, without even a glance at each other. Suguru doesn’t even hesitate he scoops me up into his arms, while Satoru bolts off in the opposite direction.

“NO! Please! Satoru! Suguru, just go with him!” I scream, my voice catching in panic. But they don’t listen. They’re already committed.

Suguru carries me into a nearby room, his grip firm yet oddly gentle, as if he’s trying to soothe me while everything around us falls apart. “Oh my god, Satoru…” I whisper, trembling uncontrollably, my mind racing.

“Shhh, baby, it’s Satoru. It’ll be okay,” Suguru’s voice is calm, but I can hear the edge in it he’s trying to reassure me, but even he knows there’s nothing really okay about this. I try to steady my breath, clinging to him for comfort.

“But what if—” I begin, only to be immediately cut off by Suguru’s voice, low but firm.

“You’ll hurt his ego if you think he’ll die over this. He’s not like them,” Suguru says, his words wrapping around me like a protective shield. But I can’t shake the feeling gnawing at me what if?

The sound of gunshots rings through the air, sharp and fast. My heart skips a beat, and I flinch, sinking into Suguru’s embrace as if it will somehow block out the noise. But it doesn’t. The gunfire continues, and my body trembles even harder.

Suguru holds me tighter, his arms tightening around me, though it doesn’t shield me from the fear. The only comfort is the steady beat of his heart and the knowledge that, for now, I’m alive. Safe.

Back in the platform a familiar voice cuts through the chaos, booming and undeniably confident. “I’m wounded, sweetcheeks. You think I’ll die over a game like this? Don’t lump me with them.” Satoru’s voice is loud, mocking the tension, even as the sounds of fighting continue around us.

Suguru growls in response, irritation flickering across his features. “Quiet it down, cocky bastard,” he mutters, his tone just as dangerous as Satoru’s bravado.

Despite the chaos unfolding around us, I can’t help but smile softly at Satoru’s voice, a sense of relief flooding through me. He’s alive. And that’s enough for now.

I don’t care about the judging stares or the whispers of the others. My hands find Satoru’s arms, gently caressing them, tracing the muscles I know so well. It’s my way of grounding myself in the moment. He’s here. He’s alive.

“Six!” The number rings out, but all I can hear are the panicked voices around me, the chaos intensifying. My heart races as I spot Yuuji and Nobara dashing toward us. “Yuuji! Nobara!” I shout, and they sprint over to us, barely slowing down before we all head toward the nearest door.

Suguru and Satoru are right behind us, each of them carrying an elderly woman between them. I breathe heavily in relief. Thank god they’re okay.

“Y/N oneesan, thank god you're safe!” Nobara's voice is full of worry as we hug, but my gaze drifts to the old lady in Suguru and Satoru’s arms, her frail body barely reacting to the chaos around her.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” I ask gently, but she doesn’t respond. Her face is pale, and I feel a pang of guilt. It’s like she’s completely checked out, her mind lost in some place far from this madness.

I can’t help but feel sorry for her, but then my thoughts shift back to the game. I just want my boyfriends to be safe, and honestly, that’s all that matters right now. I’m happy as long as they’re with me, but this game is getting worse with every passing minute.

When will this end? Are they planning to wipe us all out? The thought gnaws at the back of my mind, and I can’t help but feel the tension tightening around my chest.

The situation is spiraling out of control. People are fighting over doors now, desperate and vicious, as if they think that a door will be their ticket to survival. The fear is palpable, and it’s only growing.

"Three!" The number blares through the air, and before I can even react, Satoru grabs me, pulling me along with him as Suguru runs alongside us. Yuuji and Nobara split off, each taking their own path, but my mind is too clouded to follow them. All I can focus on is the one thing I can’t control.

“The doors!” I scream, panic flooding my chest as I watch them one by one slam shut.

“There!” Suguru yells, his voice sharp with frustration. His eyes dart to the door ahead of us, wide open, a moment of hope flashing across his face. We make a dash for it, only to come face-to-face with a man already inside.

“It’s taken!” I scream, my hands trembling as I turn, ready to find another exit.

But Satoru’s voice, cool and calm, interrupts me. “No, it’s not.”

I look up at him in confusion as he leads us inside. The countdown is nearing its end, and I can already hear the doors locking trapping us all inside with no way out.

“What do you mean? We’ll get killed if we’re more than three!” I say, my voice rising in panic.

Satoru chuckles, low and dangerously playful, his hands pulling me closer. “Baby, why don’t you just give me a hug?” His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a darkness hiding beneath the surface. I stare at him in confusion, but before I can respond, his arms wrap around me tightly, pulling my face into his chest. My heart pounds as his grip tightens, his presence overwhelming.

But then, it happens. I hear it the faint, desperate sounds of a man begging, pleading, “Pl-please, no!” My body goes numb, the blood draining from my face as I realize what’s happening. Suguru is going to kill him. I try to pull away, to stop it, but the door locks behind us. There’s nothing I can do.

The sounds of struggling of someone’s life slipping away—fill the room. I feel the urge to shout, to scream, to stop this madness, but it’s like I’m paralyzed. The door’s locked, my body frozen in place, but my mind races.

Why does this feel so... normal? Is it just survival instinct? Or is it something darker?

Satoru pulls away, his hands gently brushing through my hair, and I glance up, my heart sinking into my stomach. The man on the floor is lifeless, his eyes wide in death, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.

“Y/N,” Suguru says softly, his voice almost tender as he approaches me. “It’s bound to happen.” His words should comfort me, but all I can feel is the growing weight of dread. I step back instinctively, and I don’t even realize it until I see the way Suguru’s gaze darkens.

“Are you scared of me?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper, but there's an intensity in it that makes my chest tighten. I can’t speak. I can’t even look at him.

“I... I...” I stammer, my voice faltering as I try to process everything. My eyes flick to the blood on Suguru’s face, and my stomach turns.

Suguru's voice, smooth and dark, cuts through the silence. “Y/N, you know what I said earlier, right? We’ll protect you, even if it means I have to kill again and again,” he says, his words light, almost playful. But there's a twisted edge to them that makes my skin crawl. Satoru spoke up reaching for me “It’s inevitable, baby. He was alone. He was going to die.” He smirks, his eyes glinting with something darker. “No biggie, sweetcheeks.”

No biggie? I feel my blood run cold, and my mind goes numb. Am I hearing this right?

I finally look up at them—Suguru with blood on his face, his eyes dark and unreadable, and Satoru, his expression that sickeningly serene smile, as if this is all part of some twisted game.

I’m scared. I’m so scared. The terror claws at my chest, making my hands shake. But... they’re safe. Right? Aren’t they?

They’re mine. They’ll protect me. But at what cost? As I stare at their faces Suguru’s sharp, calculating eyes and Satoru’s playful yet chilling smile I realize something deeper is happening.

I’m caught. Trapped between fear and longing, between the twisted desire to feel safe in their arms and the horrifying truth that safety comes with a price.

But then, as my heart races and my breath catches in my throat, I realize something else:

Isn’t this what I wanted? For them to be alive, no matter the cost?

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four

Okay, nobody does this because they want to be friends.

It smells like new carpet in here. Eddie looks around his new bedroom, all his stuff is there. It’s all neat, orderly. There are curtains hung, the bed is made with new sheets, his books are on the shelf and salvaged records all neat. Even his sweetheart is hung on a shiny new mount on the wall.

“Steve would, he’s a really good guy.”

Billy doesn’t answer, but Eddie can feel the look he has on his face. Well. If Billy had a face at the moment – well. It’s kind of complicated.

Eddie sets out his meds in a neat line on the dresser – only a few more days to go and he’ll be free of those too. He can hear Steve rattling around in the kitchen and heads down the hall to check on him. He’s putting something in the oven, “it’s jut a casserole thing, but there’ll be enough left over for Wayne and I figured you’d probably want to eat and get some rest?”

“Yeah, sounds...really good. Thanks, Steve. I really like, appreciate you doing all this, my room, bringing my stuff, visiting, the ride from the hospital, you know, all of it. I just...had to say it, it means a lot, you know.”

Steve smiles at him, twisting the towel he’s holding into a long rope, “I...it’s no problem.”

You’re doing that thing again. The staring at each other thing again.

No we’re not.

You literally are – and by the way he just looked at your mouth.

Eddie huffs a laugh, can’t help it really, and Steve does the same and looks away and...okay. Steve is blushing. Even Eddie can see that.

“Stay for dinner?”

“I made it for you and Wayne -”

Eddie shrugs, “there’ll be enough, maybe we can add something to it?”

“Okay I’ll – yeah. I’ll see if there’s anything in the-”

“I can help-”

“You should sit, you should be resting-”

This is painful.

“You’re a guest.”

“Eddie,” Steve stands with his hands on his hips, Eddie raises his hands in surrender, but goes to sit at the table so he can still see Steve.

“So...you watched the game with Wayne?”

“Oh, yeah, it was pretty good.”

Ask him how it went and I guarantee you I can get him to kiss you by bed time.

Eddie feels his face flame, knows he’s flushed red, tries to hide it behind his hair as he nearly chokes on his own spit.

“Here, man, don’t die,” and Steve puts a glass of water on the table in front of him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he does.

Don’t say shit like that.

In his head, Billy is laughing hysterically.

You really think he likes me?

Yeah man, I really think he likes you. You are gay though, right?

Uhm. Yeah.

Well you don’t sound so sure there.

Well I’ve never, you know.

Man I am literally the ghost of a dead dude living in your head, who the fuck am I going to tell?

In the kitchen, Steve starts humming as he peels potatoes.

I’ve never done anything, with anyone. Ever. So pretty sure I am but I’ve never, you know, tested it.

Huh.

Limited options, you know? Also, not exactly the most desirable, you know, reputation, I guess.

Doesn’t seem to be putting Harrington off.

What about you?

What about me?

Well, I mean, say, hypothetically, I kiss a dude...we are kind of cohabiting here, would that...bother you?

Aw, sweetheart, cute of you to ask...Nah, I swing either way. Eddie nearly chokes on his water, and Billy laughs. I mean, not been with a dude since I left Cali, you’re damn right about the limited options thing. But yeah, I’m not fussy, getting off is getting off, and I figure if I can taste your food and feel it when you scratch your ass...Besides, we’re walking around in your body, no ones calling me a faggot, I’m dead.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Sorry, what?”

In the kitchen, Steve is putting potatoes on to boil, Eddie clears his throat, “I said, so tell me about that Pacers game you watched with Wayne?”

Steve smiles, big and bright, “you really want to know?”

Say you could listen to him all day.

“Yeah, if it’s you talking I could...I could listen all day.”

Steve smiles, then sort of looks away and fiddles with his hair before he comes over to the table. If anything Eddie would say he looks suddenly shy.

Bingo.

“Well, they beat the Celtics a couple of days ago, a hundred and sixteen to a hundred and nine, so they were fresh off a fair win and it showed. Absolutely smashed the Nets, a hundred and twenty three to ninety nine. Fleming and Stipanovich both made really decent showings…”

Part Six

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 3

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: you escape and face the consequences of your actions

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

<< previous ♡ next >>

It’s cold outside, you think, and you wish you had brought a little more thought to your choice in outfit because the shirt you’re wearing does little to protect your skin from the harsh wind. You regret not finding something a little thicker, something with longer sleeves perhaps when you had raided the wardrobe earlier. You were searching for comfort, not practicality, and now that decision was coming to bite you in the ass. 

Your body carries you through the wooded area surrounding the house, brambles scratching at your arms and drawing blood. You thank your body for pumping out adrenaline once again, protecting you from feeling too much pain. You’re not sure if you’ve ever run this hard or this fast in your entire life, the burning in your lungs evident that maybe you should have focused a bit more on staying in shape. Your shoes were definitely not made for running and you add it to the list of things to curse yourself for later. 

The pavement under your feet is different from the mushy grass surrounding the SKZ base and you find yourself trying not to connect your feet as hard to the ground to make up for it, lest the burning in your legs slow you down. Wait… pavement? You slow, coming to a stop to allow yourself a moment to view your surroundings and catch your breath. 

You notice you're in the city, albeit a deserted part of it that you don't recognize. Looking left and right, you decide to go in the direction of the faded city lights. At every car that passes you hold your breath and try to sink into the bushes, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible just in case Chan is in one of the vehicles. 

Salvation comes to you in the form of a gas station, seemingly devoid of any life. As you near close, you let out a sigh of relief when you see the blinking ‘open’ sign. One person mans the register, a man in his mid-30s that doesn’t seem to pay you any mind. He smells like cigarettes and whiskey but even so you can’t find it in you to be displeased. 

“Excuse me, sir,” you say, saccharine sweet. “Do you have a phone I could borrow?” The first thing you would like to do is give your sister a phone call, to let her know you’re on the way.

“You have to buy something first,” he replies instantly, not even bothering to look up from his newspaper. 

You freeze. “But… I don't have any money.” It's the truth. God knows where your phone and wallet are; you haven’t had either since you started dating Jungwon and became dependent on him for everything. 

“That's not my problem,” he says. You take a deep breath to ground yourself, inhaling the aroma of hot dogs and nacho cheese. A slushie machine whirls behind you, reds and blues that could be impossibly easy to get lost in. 

“Listen sir, I've had a rough couple of days, and I don't know where I am, and I would really appreciate it if–” 

“No, you listen, brat,” he spits the word out, finally slamming his paper down and shooting you a nasty glare. “I don't give a damn who you are, either buy something or get the Hell out of my store before I call the cops.” 

You feel inclined to listen and book it out of here but you realistically don’t have many other options. You ignore the tears threatening to spill from your lash line. If he won’t let you use the phone, the least you could do is try to figure out where you are. 

“Um… okay, how far is Second Street from here?” 

“Least three miles.” 

“Three miles? Okay. What about downtown?” 

“Still at least an hour walk.” 

“Shit, okay. Have a nice night, sir,” you say, but you don’t mean it and he doesn't deserve it. You walk out of the store nonetheless, walking on the abandoned sidewalk in the direction of the city. Your body aches and you’re not sure how far you’ve walked when you hear voices in front of you. 

There’s three men. One of them sways back and forth as he walks, obviously inebriated. Fuck. You keep your eyes glued to the sidewalk and your pace quickens, hoping that a lack of engagement will increase your luck. Maybe, just maybe for once in your life you’ll get a free pass here. Of course that doesn’t happen. 

“Hey, pretty thang. What's a girl like you doing all by yourself this late at night?” The man nudges his friend, the noticeably drunker one. 

“I don't want any trouble,” you mumble, pushing forward. 

A large unwelcoming hand reaches out to grab your wrist and you shout out in pain. Broken. Despite the ice and bandage wrapped around your appendage, your wrist is still broken. 

“What wash that? I think she said she wantshta show ush a good time!” He slurs, and anxiety settles in the pit of your stomach. You’re starting to get really tired of the feeling. 

“Let me go, please!” Your other hand gripped the offender’s, placing it over his tight grasp. 

You're shoved to the ground, knees scraping against the sidewalk. Your breath is caught in your throat, and the scene is all too familiar. 

“Come on bunny, don't you want to play?” A hand grips around your throat, and you feel like prey. How they managed to find the parts of you that were weak and vulnerable, you had no clue. Men like this just had a knack for being awful like that. A hand snakes in your hair and grabs tight, and you’re reminded of just days ago being in this exact situation. 

“Look, she’s crying!” one of them coos. You let out a loud sob and think, God, I’m going to die here. How you always have a knack for making wrong decisions, you’ll never know. 

“Let her go.” Your eyes shoot open when you hear a familiar deep voice. Instead of being filled with fear at finally being caught, you can’t help but to feel relieved. 

“Felix!” you cry out. You try to crane your head to look at him but the man’s grip on your hair is too tight. 

“Let her go? Why? We were having a good time!” One of them laughs and you feel his grip on you tighten. You whimper in pain. “Do you wanna join in?” 

Felix doesn’t say anything, but you hear a soft, mechanical clicking sound. It’s too silent and you’re afraid that you know the reason why. Your eyes stay closed but you’re free, suddenly. As you begin to fall you brace to hit the concrete but you’re surprised when you don’t. A warm and steady arm wraps around your middle and you relax into Felix as the men scamper away. 

“He's fucking crazy, man. The bitch isn't worth it.” And like that, they are gone. You allow yourself to glance down at Felix and the gun he is holding, but you aren't intimidated anymore. He has gotten rid of the real threat. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks, not looking at you. You swallow, hating to be the target of his disappointment. The gun is put away and forgotten about and you slump out his grasp and onto the concrete. You shake your head at him, trying to indicate that you are okay, you’re not seriously hurt, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you. Instead he ushers you into a car that you hadn’t even noticed had appeared, obviously too caught up in the situation at hand. He opens the door for you and you climb in, noticing that he sits in the passenger seat, not the driver’s. You furrow your brow until you recognize Hyunjin in the driver’s seat, tapping furiously on the wheel. On your left you recognize the broad frame as Changbin, who seems to be more distressed than anyone else in the car. You hope for silence, but once again, you can never be so lucky. 

“How do you always manage to get yourself into such trouble?” Hyunjin laughs. He irritates you to no end, always so sure of himself and full of it. “First Jungwon, us, and now these thugs? Do you have a knack for finding trouble or does trouble find you?” You notice Felix tense, and you decide staying in silence is probably better to not irritate the men further. You look out the window instead as the car speeds off. 

Hyunjin continues, “Normally Chan would want us to blindfold you if we were taking you back to our place, but he told us not to bother this time. He seems incessant that there’s no reason to.” Does he ever shut up? “Expect for him to be pissed. He knew you were going to leave, though.” 

Now that was enough to break your silence. 

“He knew?” you ask, incredulous. 

“Of course. It was a test, after all. To see where your loyalties lie, if he threatens you and tells you not to escape, you’re much more likely to leave right after because you think you can get away with it.” Shit. Now you feel dumb. But instead of letting on, you scoff and turn your head back to the window, finding the view much more interesting. You’re shivering still from the cold despite the heat pumping through the air vents. Felix wordlessly takes off his coat and hands it to you, and while you want to be proud and reject the offer you can’t help but want for this chill in your bones to go away. His jacket is warm and you can smell the trace of his cologne, floral, like jasmine yet earthy.  

You couldn’t have been in the car for more than ten minutes, and you curse yourself, realizing that you really didn’t get as far as you thought. 

Then, you approach a long driveway, adorned with a large iron gate that would intimidate anyone that made it to this part of the city, encased in grime and rust that’s indicative of its age. The car drives down the winding roads with familiarity which puts you at ease and keeps you from feeling nauseous, which you feel grateful for. When you arrive at the front of the house, you are finally given the opportunity to take a look at where you have been staying, as previous circumstances hadn’t allowed you to do so. 

The exterior of the house is a little dreary, the age of the cracked brick and marble noticeable. Even in the dark you could tell everything else is well-taken care of, well-trimmed shrubbery and flower beds surprising you. You don’t get as much time to look around as you would like, though you do notice the sheer size of the house as you follow the men up the gravel pathway. Large front doors open up and you’re guided inside. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You and Felix walk in silence to your room. You’re almost ashamed to meet his eye. 

“How did you know where to find me?” you finally ask. 

“I came to bring you this,” he says, gesturing to what he had been holding. A hard brace for your wrist. “When I came to your room and you weren’t there, I panicked. You couldn’t have gotten far, but we jumped in the car right away.” 

“But… What about what Hyunjin said?” You ask. Meanwhile he starts to unwrap the bandage on your wrist, revealing the very swollen and purple affected area. You wince slightly. 

“About it being a test? I wouldn’t be surprised, you’re probably in deep shit with Chris.” He says. You notice that he uses a nickname when referring to the man but you don’t say anything. He pulls out a first aid kit and starts to sanitize the surface of your skin and it stings more than you’d like to admit. Still, he does so delicately, making sure his fingers don’t press onto your injury too harshly. “I didn’t think you would leave,” he admits. “It was really stupid, you do realize that, right? I was just… really hoping you would be smarter than that.” 

You scoff. “Stupid, got it. I’m sorry that I didn’t want to stay trapped with the mafia, but I saw my opportunity. I have a life out there I want to get back to! I can’t stay here for the rest of my life.” 

“That may be true, but you won’t have a life to get back to if you’re killed the moment you leave,” he points out. “I’m not trying to be malicious, but you have a huge target on your back. Even if it’s not Jungwon who comes for you, you’re affiliated with ENHA. People who are not as kind as we are will see you as a way to get to him and they’ll kill you in cold blood.” He delicately places the new brace onto your wrist, strapping it shut tight. You try not to think about how his touch lingers on your skin, that you can still feel where he touched you and how it makes your face heat up. Instead you try to flex your wrist to test the brace, finding that it provides enough support for you not to move it too intensely. Felix hums in approval. 

“Come with me,” he says. He takes you to the bathroom and gestures for you to sit on the toilet lid. You do, looking up at him inquisitively. You see that he has brought the first aid kit with him and he’s keen on tending to your other injuries. 

“I just don’t understand,” you say, breaking the silence. He takes an antiseptic wipe and starts to wipe away scratches on your head. “Just… Why do you care if I live or die?” 

“That’s a tough one,” he says. You can’t tell if he’s joking. “I guess you can say I don’t like Yang Jungwon. Our feud with them has lasted for several years and he’s just a nuisance. He kills people in cold blood and is remorseless. I’m sure you’ve seen it first hand just how manipulative he can be, and we really just want to make sure that he doesn’t do anything to undermine us. That being said, you’re a benefit to SKZ. I know you might not see it yet, but you might be the ticket we need to finally one-up them. If you’re dead then we’re back to an even playing field.” 

“What about the infiltration? Don’t you have plans with Lee Know?” you ask. 

“Oh, Minho? He’s a very skilled person, he excels at this kind of thing. We’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while and we finally have an opportunity to do so. I hear that they’re planning to start up an underground drug-ring, something that would put us both in the public eye more than we want. Minho is going to try to find out what he can about it and then we can proceed.” 

Felix bends down, kneeling before you. Your breath hitches before you can think about it; it’s not fitting for someone who looks so majestic to be below you, you think. 

He starts to clean the scrapes on your knees. They’re bloody and raw from your fall and you’re only now starting to feel the aftereffects from it. You’re grateful that he’s taking the time to tend to your injuries, scanning your entire body from head to toe until he’s content. “You’re too good for all of this,” he finally says. “Someone like you should have never gotten involved in our lifestyle. You have so much potential, I can just see it. How did you even get stuck in this life?” The question is so intimate that it takes you a moment to process that he asked it. 

“I didn’t know who he was when I started dating him,” you admit. “Like you said, he’s manipulative. He’s mastered the art of deception. When I met him, he was charming and sweet, you know? It feels dumb to say, but by the time he admitted to me he was part of the mafia, I was head over heels in love with him. By the time I realized that the Jungwon I knew was just a facade it was too late, he caused me to completely rely on him for everything. I lost everything, Felix.” He nods in understanding, looking up at you before he stiffens. 

“Your neck… Did he do that, too?” he asks. There’s no judgment in his voice. You realize that the makeup you applied so diligently before must have completely rubbed off by now. You sigh. 

“Yeah. The night Chan found me, Jungwon and I got into a fight. It was my fault, but he threatened me, and it got physical, and…” 

“I don’t know what happened, but I severely doubt it could have been your fault,” he says. You decide not to divulge the details of your argumentThis is the first time you have admitted the situation out loud, and you feel very vulnerable. For some reason, you really want to tell Felix, despite the tears threatening to spill from your lashes. 

“He knocked me unconscious outside of the club, and when I woke up, I was here.” He finishes bandaging up your injuries and he stands, stretching his back and popping his joints. There’s blood on his white dress shirt. Your blood, though you don’t remember how it got there. 

“When you left tonight, where were you planning to go? You weren’t going–” 

“Not back to him, God no. Um… I have a sister, I was just trying to get in touch.” He seems content with your answer. You wonder if he’s just going to relay all of that information back to Chan. You feel like a weight has been lifted off of your chest, though, so you can’t really bring yourself to care. 

“I don’t know how long you’re going to be here. But for now, this is the safest place for you. So, try not to do anything else that’s stupid.” He turns to the door to leave, but you find yourself calling out. 

“Felix?” He halts and his eyes meet yours as you call his name. “Thank you.” There’s a lot of meaning to convey with just two words, but you hope you get your point across; thank you, for saving my life, for talking with me, for treating my wounds. He seems to understand. He graces you with a small smile before leaving 

You take a minute to breathe and look at yourself in the mirror. You are definitely not the same person you were two days ago. You smile at the reflection of yourself that has been beaten and bruised, and you hardly recognize her. You open the door to retreat to your bedroom for the night, but are shocked by what you see. 

For the second time in one night, Bang Christopher Chan sits on your bed, waiting expectantly. 

“We need to talk,” he says. 

He looks pissed. His glare sends shivers straight up your spine, and it takes everything for you to not break down and cry on the spot. It makes you feel guilty for everything that happened tonight, but you have to shake that thought. You were justified, you need to stand strong. You sit on the bed next to him without him gesturing for you to do so, as it feels like what he wants. You aren’t stupid enough to disobey him again. 

You look him in the eye. 

“I’d like to think I’m a kind person,” he says. “I don’t ask much of you–”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. 

“Speak when spoken to. I won’t tell you again.” He clears his throat. “I don’t ask much of you. In fact, I gave you just two, simple, commands that you couldn’t be bothered to follow. Do not contact Yang Jungwon, and do not leave. What did you do?” He looks at you but you stay silent. “Answer.” 

“I left.” 

“That’s right. You must be pretty stupid, Y/N. Stupid enough to somehow end up here, and even more stupid to disobey me. I knew you were going to try to push your luck,” he says. “Explain yourself.” 

“I…” you gulp. You decide honesty is the best way to go about this. “I got scared. I know you told me not to leave and I didn’t listen, and I truly apologize but I remembered how trapped I felt when I was with Jungwon, and, well… the prospect of staying here for the rest of my life really really scared me.  I wanted to see my sister and tell her I’m alright. My phone is gone, and she probably thinks I’m dead. I envisioned a world where I  never got to see her again and make things right, and I thought this would be my only chance.” 

He sits in silence for a moment, contemplating. “This will be the last time I extend such kindness to you,” he says slowly. “From here on, I want your complete loyalty to me and the rest of SKZ.I will ensure your safety from ENHA and any potential threat. For now, that’s all you need. If you try to undermine me one more time, I will make sure you never see your sister again. Take that any way you want.” He stands. 

“Hyunjin said that this was a test,” you say cautiously. “Are you going to punish me?” 

“I thought I made myself very clear that there would be consequences to your actions,” he says. “I will go lightly on you, just this time. I’m being very nice, just so you are aware: I am not usually known by others as a kind person.” He sighs. “Pick a number between one and ten.” 

“Um… five?” you say, trying to play it safe and pick a number that’s not too high and not too low. His hands slide down to his waistband, unbuckling his belt and taking it out of the loops. 

“Lift your shirt up and turn around.” 

You do, with shaky hands, turn around and lift your shirt up so just your back is revealed to Chan. You don’t protest, worrying that that could somehow make things worse. 

You steady your breath and brace for impact. 

Thwack. 

One time, Chan’s leather belt comes down and hits the skin of your back hard. It’s obvious he has no intention of holding back and it stings; you bite down on your bottom lip to suppress your cries. 

Thwack. 

The second time, just as hard. 

Five times Chan hits you hard with your belt and you can’t hold back your tears any longer, though you do stay strong in the decision to not let him see them. After the fifth hit, you stand and pull down your shirt. 

“Rest up,” he tells you. “Tomorrow you’ll meet everyone else.” 

It’s stupid of you to think about, but you practically disregarded the fact that there are other members you have not met yet. You’re not entirely looking forward to it, though you don’t say so.  

“Does everyone know?” you ask him just as he’s about to leave. “Does everyone know that I’m associated with Jungwon?” 

“Everyone knows,” he confirms. “I trust my group implicitly. I felt no need to hide it from them, though at this point I don’t think it’s something to be ashamed of.” You nod your head at the information, lost in thought. 

Then Chan leaves and you’re finally alone. When you lie down in bed you finally take note of how your body feels after all this time. Every muscle aches and you can’t lay down on your back and once again you ignore the incessant throbbing in your skull. When you lay down in the bed to sleep, it’s on the comfiest, most luxurious mattress that you’ve ever laid on. You stare at the wall until you drift off with a dreamless yet peaceful sleep.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

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@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

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@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ;

[leog4u]

Game Design and Porn Pt. 1

or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever

Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.

So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what’s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.

Define "porn game" for me, Leo.

There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.

Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.

The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.

Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?

There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.

I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?

Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)

So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.

You get to watch porn when you lose?

To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.

The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.

What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!

Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.

What if we made the porn actual rewards?

Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?

There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.

Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.

Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.

So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.

Plot milestones

In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.

Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”

Rewarding exploration

By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!

So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.

If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?

So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.

That sounds excessive

Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.

I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.

Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?

Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.

Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.

It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.

Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.

So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.

To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.

”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”

It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.

This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources

It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.

(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)