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[fozmeadows]

the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?

[househrt]

house in 2024

House installs 24/7 tracking apps on Wilson's phone. In return, Wilson books Ubers to take his phone and drive to various nefarious locations, sit there for half an hour, then come back home

Similarly, Wilson gets a smartwatch that monitors his heart rate. House gets updates sent to his phone and calls Wilson whenever his heart rate increases by more than 20 bpm to try and interrupt him jerking off

Kutner writes fanfic and replies to almost every comment he gets. His author's notes are full of things like "sorry this chapter is late, I accidentally gave myself a concussion trying to save a patient's life"

House posts on the Am I The Asshole subreddit but gets annoyed at everything thinking he's the asshole so he immediately deletes his account and pretends it never existed

Cuddy spends an hour of her day responding to the hospital's negative google reviews about "that rude doctor with the cane"

A young patient of Wilson's convinces him to be in a TikTok they're making, and he doesn't really know what that is but he agrees and ends up going semi-viral

Chase is secretly seething with jealousy over Wilson's accidental TikTok success, because Chase has been making thirst-trap videos in his scrubs for months with barely any views (it's because he's trying way too hard)

Thirteen gets really into Drag Race/the local drag scene and accidentally introduces House to gay slang, which he instantly adopts

[reyalvr]

RUMORS!

I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!

synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?

genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot

pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!

word count ┊ 2.2k

author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)

THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience. 

From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap. 

You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky. 

Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work. 

Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?

IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message. 

Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner. 

“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message. 

Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome. 

You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.

You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.

“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”

For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.

The nerve.

“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”

“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:

OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!

Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house. 

Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more. 

“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.

“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”

You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.

When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”

The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support. 

“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”

At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”

You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”

“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.” 

You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand. 

“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”

You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”

“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed. 

“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan. 

Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan. 

“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”

 His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”

“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you. 

He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.

“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted. 

“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look. 

You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time. 

“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”

“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”

“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”

“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”

“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.” 

He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield. 

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?

You always were.

[hxzbinwrites]

Idk if you do headcanons or one shots but either or will be fine:

Can I pretty please get a Vox x Emotionless! Reader?

Plot can be whatever you want but just to (hopefully) give some ideas… maybe Vox had no interest in Reader but then uh oh she smiled! Now Vox has a crush (°▽°)

But yeah lol thank you!! Have a good day!

Vox x Emotionless! Reader | Lovestruck Fool |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Vox is a horrible boss

10:00am

(Y/n) walked into Vox’s office, holding an folder with today’s date and Vox’s name on it.

“Mr. Vox.” She said, her dead eyes watching her boss turn around in his excessively large chair.

“Hm, what is it (Y/n)?” He said, giving her a single glance before turning back to his monitors

“You have three meetings today sir. 1:00pm with Velvette in her portion of the tower. 2:30pm with Valentino in the main conference room, and someone scheduled a 4:00 with you, a Mr. Alastor? Called in today for an urgent meeting.”

Vox slammed his hands down on the desk, his face glitching in seething anger. “THAT PRICK!! CALL BACK AND TELL HIM I WILL NOT BE ATTENDING ANY SORT OF MEETING WITH HIM!!”

“He called from a public telephone sir, I can’t trace the caller ID.” (Y/n) said, clearly unfazed by his temper tantrum.

“DAMN IT!” He said, punching a smaller monitor on his right,”DONT YOU EVER LET HIM SCHEDULE ANOTHER MEETING WITH ME OR VOXTECH EVER AGAIN!!!”

Vox turned around, pointing one of his clawed fingers in your deadpanned face.

“Okay sir, is that all?”

“UGH!!” He said, clenching his fists to his side,”WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?? IM AN OVERLORD, I AM THE VOX, YOU SHOULD BE QUIVERING IN FEAR!! IM YELLING MY HEAD OFF AT YOU AND YOU CANT EVEN FORM AN EXPRESSION?? ARE YOU BRAINDEAD??”

(Y/n) slowly blinks, before looking down and rummaging through the folder she still held. “Ah, I almost forgot. Mr. Alastor requested his meeting also in the main conference room. If you need another reminder about your meetings today just call me-“

She was cut off once more by Vox, screaming and yelling, throwing things hazardously across the room. “JUST LEAVE.”

“Alright sir.” (Y/n) said, immediately turning away and walking towards the door.

————

4:45pm

(Y/n) was at her desk, taking calls and rearranging Vox’s schedule for tomorrow when her work phone buzzed.

“Hello? This is (Y/n) with Voxtech. How may I-“

“(Y/n). My office. Now.”

“Sir? This isn’t your work phone number? How can I be sure that this is-“

“MY OFFICE. NOW.”

(Y/n) could hear his voice glitching over the phone before she hung up, and briskly made her way to the door of his office.

She walked in to his Vox in his obnoxiously large chair, his hands covering his screen as he sighed in exhaustion.

“Ah, sir. You called me?”

“Yes (Y/n). I have installed safety features into your desk. Don’t except meetings from Alastor. If he comes in here, press the button under your monitor. He is NEVER allowed in this building.”

“Okay sir.” She said, making a note of that on her smartwatch,”Will that be all?”

“Can you get me a coffee…?”

“Right away sir.”

————

5:00pm

“Here’s your coffee sir.” (Y/n) said, setting it in his outreached hand.

“Thank you (Y/n)” He said, taking a single sip before doing a spit take. On one of the monitors around the city, it showed Velvette and Alastor chatting to one another.

“WHAT?!?” Vox yelled, being as “careful” as he usually is, his coffee flies into the air before landing on his shirt. He hissed in pain at the hit liquid, scrambling around before tripping on the various wires around his monitor setup (that was replaced after his previous temper tantrum) and landing on his ass.

Vox looked up in shock to see (Y/n) covering half of her mouth, revealing a smile. Tears brimmed her eyes as she tried to respectfully hold in her laughter.

Vox’s face felt red hot. Out of embarrassment and admiration. Why didn’t she smile more? Oh that smile, if she could remove her hand it would reveal its full glory. Let him soak it in. Her eyes filled with life and laughter. Has she always been this….beautiful? Yes, I think she has. She has indeed.

She let out a little snort before regaining her composure, before crouching down in front of him, taking the napkins provided with the coffee, and starting to wipe off as much of the liquid as possible. He felt her delicate hands rub across his chest. He hope she didn’t feel his erratic heartbeat.

He wanted this. He’s yearned for this and he didn’t even know it. Vox’s breathing became as erratic as his heartbeat, almost in sync. He felt sweat starting to drip, wether it be from the hot coffee adorning his now ruined shirt or from the stunning woman and her hands on his chest.

Trying to get as much as she could, (Y/n) scooted even closer, not realizing her hips were hovering right over his. Vox’s mind was running wild, his screen glitching and flicking between different error signals. His hands floating near the handles of her hips. Taking a gulp, he almost put his hands on her skin. Almost. He ended up just leaving his hands there, leaving a ghostly stabilization to the assistant who was cleaning him up like a toddler who spilt his apple juice.

(Y/n) looked up at Vox’s eyes, their eyes locking onto one another. A small smile could be faintly seen across her lips before it went back to its neutral state.

She helped him to his feet, her soft hands gently pulling on his clawed ones, slowly helping him to his feet. Handing him the remaining napkins. “I’ll schedule a trip to the dry cleaners. Does 3:45 tomorrow work well for you?”

Vox sat back down, his eyes wide in shock from what just happened. “Yeah, sure, whatever. I don’t care.”

“Alright sir, I’ll get that done, and then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

(Y/n) walked out, the door closing behind her. Leaving the room back in it’s inky black darkness, with the exception of the glowing monitors.

Vox looked at his reflection in the main monitor. He could see his goofy smile. His blush adorning his cheeks. His eyes lighting up like a child who knows no sin. He looked like what he was, a lovestruck fool. A lovestruck fool for his assistant.

————

Word Count: 1006

(sorry it’s so short, i’m trying to get as many requests done as i can 😭)

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (crack) - "where’s my super suit?”

this is very self-explanatory slight nsfw mention?? nothing smutty lmao

Brooding in his impossibly dark office, Miguel gazes at the various orange telegram screens around him. One of them catches his eye; Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie all being absolutely demolished by an anomaly. 

Each one of them is being thrown in the opposite direction, thwacking against each other or accidentally webbing the wrong person. 

Miguel’s supposed to be off duty right now, though it’s hard to believe that Miguel gets any free time at all. Giving into Lyla’s pestering, he wears normal clothes today, opting for a simple zip-up sports jacket and pants. 

But, Miguel knew he’d regret it. 

He gazes at the live footage of the kids being completely totaled by the anomaly. Something similar to sympathy growing in his chest. (He doesn’t like to admit he has a soft spot for the kids, but he does.)

Miguel closes his eyes, hunching down and pinching between his eyes. “No puedo más-” He mumbles to himself. Pressing a button on the screen, Miguel quickly finds which universe the kids are in, opting to jump in and deal with it himself. 

He’s already got his watch on, ready to step into action when he realizes...

He doesn’t have his suit on. 

“Fuck.“ He mutters, breaking into a run out of his office, and down the equally dim hallway towards his living quarters. If you’re so invested in your job, why not live there as well?

The automatic doors slide open, revealing a lifeless, bland bedroom. You bug him to make it more homey, but he hasn’t got the chance to yet. Miguel quickly rummages through his drawers in the dark, filing through another closet in search of his suit, or at least one of a duplicate. Nothing. 

“Lyla!“

Miguel starts rummaging through more clothes, and she instantly flickers by his shoulder. 

“What?“

“Do you know where my suit is?“ Miguel asks. 

“I dunno.“ Lyla shrugs. “I think y/n has it. Said she wanted to keep it to make sure you wouldn’t go work today.“

Miguel sighs in annoyance, swatting Lyla away like a fly until she blinks off. He taps a few buttons on his smartwatch, hastily pressing the call button for your favorited contact. 

(it reads ”babyboo💕💞” after you changed it in his sleep lmaoo)

You answer as per usual. Miguel’s surprised you weren’t busy. 

“Honey?“ Miguel asks, double checking the clothes he threw on the floor.

“Whaat?” 

“Where’s my suit?” 

“What? Sorry, you spazzed out a little.“

Miguel sighs, taking a deep breath on behalf of healthy marriages. 

“Where. Is. My. Spider. Suit?“ He asks, slower this time. 

“I uh- put it away.“ 

“Where?“ He asks, his voice hushed. 

You raise your eyebrow. Miguel is supposed to be off duty?

“Why do you need to know?“

“I need it!“

“Nuh uh! Don’t you dare think about zipping off to whatever fucking Earth-199 you’ve got going on! You haven’t had a break in literally 4 years!“

“The kids are in danger!“

“Your mental health is in danger!“

“Tell me where my goddamn suit is! We’re talking about the future generation!“

“The only future generation you should be worrying about are the kids you put in me last ni-“

“Oh my fucking god, just tell me! Hon-“

You hang up on him, and Miguel sighs for the 10th time today, hanging his head low in frustration. He’s surrounded by clothes he never wears, the room utterly cluttered. 

You know what, maybe someone else will deal with it? There’s thousands of spider-people in the building, it’s safe to say that they could take down at least one anomaly. 

For now, Miguel needs a break.

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[curiositypolling]

pls reblog for sample size etc

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

*sorry for misnumbering

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The man catches you by surprise as he appears. You’re busy scraping out the bottom of the toaster as he stands silently at the counter. You smile over at him and call out for him to bear with you for a moment. You’re not sure how you didn’t hear him, even as you tried to chip away at the burnt crumbs. Xander never cleans it. 

“Hi, sir, sorry.” You dry off your hands as you approach. “Black coffee.” 

You punch in his order and he waits patiently to tap his smartwatch on the machine. He doesn’t say a word as you pour him a cup. It’s typical but unsettling nonetheless. 

“Oh, er, I think... I think last time there was a mix-up.” You say as you put his cup on the counter. He ignores you and goes to grab a sleeve and a lid. You follow as you dig around in your apron pocket. “Uh, sir, I think you gave me the wrong tip.” 

You bring the folded bill out of your pocket and hold it out. He doesn’t even look at it. Instead, his dark eyes bore into you. Oh. That’s scary. 

“No. I didn’t.” 

That’s it. He’s already halfway around before you can process his words. His tone hangs in the air and lingers even as the door opens and closes across the atrium. You rescind your arm and open up the bill. 

It’s a lot of money. You could use it but it just feels so wrong. You can’t help but feel indebted. Maybe because you’re used to bending over backwards for each cent. You’ll be smart. Put it away for an emergency. Those always seem to find you at the worst moment. 

Your shift comes to an end as the city skyline softens beneath the amber glow of sunrise. Dayani takes the keys and sends you off. You’re tempted to grab a coffee to go before you leave but you can’t. You need sleep. 

You come out onto the street and take your usual route. You cut behind the corner shop and around the short alleyway. As you come out on the other side, a shadow appears, as if splitting from the brick, and falls into step beside you. 

You stumble and glance over at the stranger. It’s that man. The one who always wears black and orders the same shade of coffee. 

“I don’t make mistakes,” he says. 

You’re too addled to respond. How did he find you? How did he know you’d come this way? 

You stop but only for a moment as he grabs your arm and lurches you forward. You whimper and struggle to keep in stride. His grip is tight and his fingertips jab painfully. 

“Sir? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--” 

“You shouldn’t take shortcuts,” he reprimands, eyes set ahead of him as he drags you down your usual path. “It’s dangerous.” 

“Oh, ouch, sorry. I—what's happening?” You squeak as confusion muddles your thoughts. 

“Anyone could sneak up on you.” He doesn’t falter. You can hardly keep your feet moving as your adrenaline floods through your veins and narrows your vision. You glance around helplessly but the few bodies on the street don’t spare you a single look. 

“I’m sorry. Again. But—ow. Do you want your money back?” You try to shrug him off as he turns down your street. 

He’s silent as he marches on. He stops you in front of your building and angles you to face it. He keeps a hold of you. 

“Should be in this building. Locks janky. Any asshole can climb the fire escape.” He points along the side. “Or carry in an empty pizza box behind the elderly old lady who’s too helpful for her own good.” 

You wince and hold the air in your chest. “Sir?” 

“Night shift. Alone. That’s third. Stupid,” he snarls. 

“Sir, I—I have roommates and... and there’s cameras.” 

“And assholes wear masks or don’t give a shit,” he growls. 

You whine as he squeezes and you touch his hand. “Ow, please, you’re hurting me.” 

He shifts and looks down at his hand. He gives one last squeeze and releases you. He drops his arm straight and faces you. 

“Lots of men out there would hurt you worse.” 

You shake your head at him. You don’t understand. You’re not stupid. You’ve lived in the city long enough. 

“You leave just before eleven. At least you have the sense to stay in streetlights then. But you keep your head down and don’t look where you’re going,” he rebukes. “You don’t see your own shadow or the second one making sure no one else notices you.” 

You pout and flutter your lashes. The fear slowly rises up from your stomach to your chest until you’re choked dumb. His mouth slants. 

“You should use that money for a can of mace. Maybe a taser.” He squares his shoulders and looks you up and down. “Or maybe I’ll just keep my eye on you.” 

You flounder, lips twitching, and he puts his back to you. He stalks off without another word or another look. You watch him until he’s only a speck in the cityscape. 

What the heck was that? 

[seat-safety-switch]

You can keep your ghostly little girls, your blood on the windows, your random vampire attacks. For me, the spookiest mystery of Halloween is why my car keeps getting vapour lock.

Down the street, the real mechanics tell me that it's because the weather is getting colder. The fuel inside the carb gets denser and it doesn't burn as well. I think that's some top-shelf bullshit, mostly because I know for a fact that at least two of the dudes down at Harry's Auto Repair are actually werewolves. Think about it: Harry's. It's right in the name. Next time I go in there to borrow their tools without paying, I should bring along a dog biscuit.

Car chasing canine mechanics aside, they do have a point. The weather has been getting worse lately, and cars do run a lot worse when that happens. Originally, my distant Quebecois ancestors would have chalked this up to malevolent spirits, angered by a too-greedy harvest of the fields. They'd have left a couple stalks of corn behind, to keep the spirits happy. You know, make sure that the old family tractor keeps starting every morning just in case Meemaw needed to take Peepaw to the hospital to get his stomach pumped again (corn liquor problems.) What I needed was a sacrifice.

Back in the 70s, when this car was made, it was a lot easier to find sacrifices. People went missing all the time, and nobody went looking for them. Nowadays, if you kidnap a person from the side of the highway, you have to make sure all their tracking devices are removed. Smartphones. Smartwatches. Smart rings. Smart buttplugs. The other day, I heard about some guy that has an internet-connected tooth. Yeah. His molar can get an IP address. All of these things are constantly reporting your location to a series of shadowy information brokers. And they call me a monster.

To avoid all this hassle, I simply decided to do what I always do: sacrifice some tires. A big burnout in front of the 4-H Club would surely appease any malevolent nature spirits, and help me keep my car in tip-top condition all winter. Plus, their office is right next to the tire shop that keeps throwing perfectly good tires in the dumpster behind their store. If one set of rears turned into smoke didn't do it, I could keep burning down more dead, oddly-round dinosaurs until the cops came home.

Through my efforts, I wasn't attacked by cops, or even vampires. What happened was that some stray ember from my bare rims striking the pavement set the adjacent corn field on fire, and I had to get out of there in a hurry, leaving my work undone. Those farmers are gonna be pissed when those spooky little girls start crawling out of their TVs.

[royalarchivist]

Pac: Oh yeah, we were kidnapped once. Mike: Yeah, Pac and I, we were kidnapped. Fit: What?! Mike: Together. Pac: Yeah, together. Fit: You were kid- like actually? No joke, you were kidnapped?

Here's Pac and Mike's entire kidnapping story, since the version Pac told during yesterday's Halloween event was incomplete (and pretty tame).

[ Complete Transcript ↓ ]

Pac: Mike, have you ever been robbed?

Mike: Yeah. Yeah, I think.

Pac: Oh yeah, we were kidnapped once.

Mike: Yeah, Pac and I, we were kidnapped.

Fit: What?!

Mike: Together.

Pac: Yeah, together.

Fit: You were kid- like actually? No joke, you were kidnapped?

Pac: [Pac and Mike cheer] Was so cool Fit, was so cool that day.

Mike: Pac almost got his finger shot.

Pac: Yeah, they almost shot in our van- actually, they shot near our van, right? But they missed it for a few inches.

Mike: So we had these shows called- I'm going to explain the whole history.

Pac: Here we go!

Mike: We have these shows called Tazercraft Party when we go all over the state of Brazil.

Fit: Yeah?

Mike: And once we are heading to this city, and it was like 3am. And we have to arrive there early to make our show, to prepare the scenery, to prepare the stage.

Fit: Oh, I see, yeah yeah.

Mike: And then we were like on this van, really late in the night, and then we heard a gunshot. And then a car just crossed in front of our van, stop at the van, and entered two guys armored with guns and with that- uh...

Pac: Wearing balaclavas, Fit! Wearing balaclavas.

Mike: Yeah yeah. And they said like, "Everyone stay quiet. I'm going to take you-"

Pac: [Interrupts him with rapid-fire Portuguese, imitating what the kidnappers said, and Mike joins in with him]

Fit: Wow.

Mike: And then they took us to like a really far away place on the road was really dark and the moon was shining like the sun. And then they told us to put the hands against our hats and just wait until they took all the baggage and luggage. They even took our shoes!

Pac: Yeah!

Mike: And I had this Smartwatch that I bought like one- two days ago. And it got stolen too. We lost everything! We lost everything. Our cell phones, our luggage. But it was in a really sketchy place. \

Pac: Yeah, in the middle of nowhere!

Mike: Yeah, it was literally in the middle of nowhere.

Pac: [Cheerfully] But yeah, Brazil is pretty cool, you know, you should come!

Fit: [Laughs] Oh god.

Mike: There's this famous streamer- there's this famous streamer that plays LoL that he didn't want to give his baggage, his luggage, to the bandits. And one of the bandits said to Pac, "Hold the locker," that he's going to shoot the locker up open.

Pac: Yeah, but it was like, a small locker you know, and he was just going to fire at my fingers, you know. And I completely lost my mind you know, like, "Hey, hey! You're- you're going to make me lose a finger! Don't do that!" And you know, I could smell the gunpowder from his gun because he just fired it.

Mike: This motherfcker. He didn't want to get the keys off his luggage. I hate him.

Pac: [Laughing] Yeah. At the end, I didn't lost the fingers, and you know- Brazil is the BEST. Fit, please come to Brazil! [Cheers]

Mike: Brazil Fit!

Pac: It's going to be alright, it's gonna be alright! Alright alright.

Fit: That's- that's probably the most casual retelling of a kidnapping story I've ever heard. That's insane.

Pac: We used to call this a "Lightling McQueen" kidnapping it because it was really fast. We were kidnapped for 2 - 3 hours you know. Not a long time. So it was a lighting McQueen kidnapping.

Mike: Yeah...

Fit: Oh, I see. So wait, hold on– I'm still stuck on this kidnapping story. So wait- how long ago did this happen?

Pac: Three years, Mike?

Mike: Three years? Three or four years.

Pac: Three or four years.

Fit: ...Wow, that's crazy.

Mike: Let's show one of our shows to Fit.

Pac: At the end Fit, at least for me, I always try to see the things from the bright side. So at least for me, I learned a lot from this day. I learned that like, you need to avoid robberies and you need to avoid bad guys and also gunshots. And I learned that you always need to... to stay sharp, you know? So that was actually pretty cool. And I have an amazing story to tell everyone! So at the end, it was like a win, at least for me. I would be kidnapped again, you know, if I wasn't- if somebody doesn't shot me, you know.

[rain0tes]

Hi hi love your hacker reader a bit too much it's great!! What would be their reaction to sir pentious trying to join the hotel? And the little eggbois once he starts staying there for real?

Hacker!reader's reaction to Sir Pentious trying to join the hotel.

Hacker!reader actually comes in after the heaven vs. hell battle, when Pentious has already been redeemed. This is an alternate scenario where you've been in the hotel a few weeks before Pentious makes an appearance.

Warnings: mature language and jokes, mentions of violence (although nothing too explicit), all the obvious hazbin stuff

You've been at the Hazbin Hotel for a few weeks. Although not fully convinced by the idea of redemption, having a roof over your head while easing into your new life (or afterlife) was nice.

You find a friend in most of the other wayward souls in the hotel, especially Charlie, who was more than excited when you show up.

The actual story starts when Pentious comes crashing into the hotel the first time. Literally.

You were having tea with Alastor out on the balcony when you feel the ground below yourself shake.

"Show yourself, Alastor."

That earns the radio demon a side eye from you, which he only shrugs at.

You see the others go outside in your peripheral, wanting to check out what the commotion was about. You shrug and head down as well, actually using the stairs since not everyone can just warp through shadows.

You stand beside Alastor, squinting at the giant blimp as they conversed.

"When I've slain you, the almighty Vee's will finally acknowledge me as their equal."

"Ooh! Wait, who are the Vee's?"

"Aren't they that tacky trio with the crap network security?"

"They're no one important."

One beating later, Pentious is on the ground after Alastor has decimated his war-blimp...thing.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience."

"Thank...you...for letting your guard down! Haha!"

Pentious rips off a part of Alastors suit, causing you to physically wince.

"Ah, you shouldn't have done that."

You can't help but chuckle when you see him get sent flying.

"Looks like team rockets blasting off again."

You expected that to be the last time you'll be seeing of him (at least in a while), but it seems that fate has other plans when someone comes knocking on the hotels doors only six hours later.

Vaggie was the one to answer, and he almost got skewered upon sight. Charlie seemed excited that he showed up, tho, and somehow you're not surprised.

"Are you fucking nuts? This chump was trying to kill us like, literally six hours ago?"

"Yeah, exactly, are you seriously gonna let this pathetic loser live with us?"

They did, IN FACT, let the boyfailure in the hotel. You weren't too happy about it, and neither was angeldust (bonding through a common enemy).

You can't help but feel that something was odd about him, sensing an electrical device on him that was certainly not a phone. You remained quiet for the time being, if only to please Charlie by playing along with her activities (even if they did make you cringe just a tiny little bit).

You watch him slither sometime in the middle of the night, prompting you to follow him as you take a sip out of a monster energy can.

"A camera? Wow, that's pretty cheap. Certainly doesn't help my already low expectations of the Vee's"

Yeah, you caught him in the act when he was placing the camera. Angeldust already behind you, confronting Pentious while you pick up the device.

You take a screwdriver out of your pocket, disabling the thing but not damaging it, all while the two fight beside you.

Pentious immediately calls for backup once he's been outed to Vaggie and Charlie, only for Vox to laugh in his face.

"If they don't kill you, go ahead and do it yourself you miserable failure."

You immediately snatch the smartwatch. He may be right, Pentious certainly was a failure. But you've already decided that you're the only one who gets to insult him.

"Listen here, you musty little bitch. You either shut the fuck up or I do it for you."

He's tearing up as you throw the meanest sentences he's ever heard to Vox. Some of them even sound poetic to some degree.

"Two thousand years of constant human evolution only to make some simple minded cunt."

Immediately refers to you as his best friend after this. You waged war on an overlord of hell for him. There's no take backsies.

For once, there's someone in the hotel who's not actively looking out for you, but you're the one looking out for him instead.

You two would share ideas ALL the time.

One thing you'd accomplish together is making a clone of you. He made the android, you made the A.I it would run on.

"Would it technically be mastur-"

"Don't you dare continue that sentence."

The main difference is that the Vee's know who you are in this one. Actively waging war against them instead of remaining anonymous. All because you've decided that the weird boyloser snake is actually kind of endearing.

I might make another part to this one where the reader participates in the hell vs heaven battle.

(masterlist)

[maleyanderecafe]

Kaede, the yandere boyfriend (Oneshot)

Created by: Murasaki yukari/Isako

Genre: Smut

It's been a while since I've done a yandere smut translation, but here we are. This one is actually surprisingly pretty sweet considering that Saya does accept Kaede at the end. Very cute. Originally this was going to be something that was translated with the translation group I'm in, but unfortunately I'm really impatient. As always if you like my work you can always donate to me at kofi.com/lunaslurp.

The story starts out with Saya recalling Kaede's confession to her in university. While she is happy about the confession, she also feels really inadequate next to him, wondering why he confessed to her all this time. During their date, Kaede gives Saya a smartwatch, something she initially refuses due to the fact that she had already gotten another gift from Kaede earlier, a necklace. She eventually agrees to keep it, though she does feel bad about it. At her job, she gets invited by a coworker to go out and eat with the other coworkers. She asks Kaede and after a brief questioning of if there will be any guys, she eventually decides to go. During the hangout, a bunch of guys come in and crash the party, with Saya being too awkward to try to leave. One of the guys starts to talk to her and compliment her, making good conversation about a comedy show they both like. At this point, Kaede starts to call her like crazy, with her watch and necklace buzzing as well. Eventually, Kaede comes in person to drag Saya away from the other people, basically getting jealous and having sex with her. During the sex, Saya asks if Kaede does love her, which he does respond with a happy yes. He also reveals that Saya is actually quite popular with people and that because of this he had to isolate her by getting rid of the other guys. He also mentions that her phone, necklace and watch are bugged with a gps tracking device. While he talks about this, he does seem to feel that Saya is unlucky to be with him, but Saya accepts all of him regardless, happy that he has confessed to her in this way. After some more sex, we get a flashback to when Kaede fell in love with Saya in the first place. Kaede had apparently been involved between some sort of fight between the girls, and was talking to Saya about it. Saya states that he should treat himself with kindness as well just as he treats the girls with kindness and falls for her in that regard. The next day, Saya apologizes to her coworkers for suddenly bailing, giving them the money. Her coworkers ask if that man was her boyfriend, to which she responds happily, even complimenting him ina a lovey dovey way. Upon leaving, Saya finds Kaede evesdropping on the conversation with the earbuds he has on, embarrassed that Saya said such things, presumably for her to hear. The coworkers talk about how Kaede is kind of scary, but if that the two of them are happy, then it's okay.

This story kind of reminds me of Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend, “I love you too,” she shifted to the romantic comedy route~, which is the other smut I translated, since they both accept the yandere during sex. Of course, Yandere Killing!! is much more comedic in nature while this one is more sweet, but it is weird that it happened twice. I honestly did think initially that Saya's feelings of inadequacy were actually caused by Kaede, but it actually turns out they both felt they weren't good enough for each other, which kind of adds to that sort of sweet factor when they do end up confessing to each other. Kaede has the general factor of stalking Saya through tracking devices, namely on her various gifts that she was given, so it was cute that in the end Saya basically talked about how much she loved Kaede presumably so that he would hear it as well through the devices. Though as a smut, other than the cuteness factor (both in the story and between the people who made it), I don't really have too much to say. It's cute, the artwork is rather nice and it has some yandere things in it.

Anyways, hopefully you guys enjoy this translation. I don't really have much to say about it, but I hope you do read it because I did take the time to translate it. If you have suggests for what yandere manga to translate from Chinese to English let me know.

[painsandconfusion]

Ethan's Ship

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Forty-four

(tw: death threat, torture mention, manhandling, knife, fluff) [Previous | Masterpost | Next]

Ethan ignored how the wooden chair dug in against the bruises in his back. The rest of the position was comfortable, so he remained lounging there, slumped with feet kicked up on the corner of the dining table. Crossed and cozy as he carved dry, flaking blood out from under his nails with a pocketknife. No matter how many passes he took, there always seemed to be a little more pressed up against the tender white skin that hid beneath the keratin. Strange how parts of the body could be so dark while others were so bright. How blood gathers in one place more than another. How the crevices and curves seemed to suck in the wrongness and blight.

Human bodies had always fascinated him. He never had any interest in studying them at a medical level. To some extent, that seemed like disrespecting the body. Studying it to the point that you knew every sinew and cell by name depersonalized it. It took away from the glory and wonder of the gore and put a focus on the mechanical, computeristic labels. Neat, pretty diagrams where flesh is held back by calipers took so much beauty out of the scene.

He’d much rather rip someone open himself and have the lines between flesh, fat, and bone be blurred and smudged by welling blood. He didn’t need to know what the terminology was. He only really cared for feeling the warmth under his fingers.

Pass by pass, the little blade scraped and carved away both the dust of the nail itself and the little flakes and freckles of black so they fluttered down to his shirt or the floor. He’d sweep it up later if Nate didn’t get to it first.

That man was so strange. Ethan hadn’t ever greatly disliked household chores, but he certainly didn’t love them. Yet, cleaning seemed to be a comfort to Nate. When the bitch was stressed, he’d mop or shove cleaners and ice down the garbage disposal. He’d scrub down the toilets and sanitize the railings. Wax the key-holes or scrub at grout with a wire-bristled brush.

It didn’t make sense to Ethan, but he did appreciate not having to do much. Nate could snap at him for leaving plates or sweatshirts around the house, but he never seemed to expect Ethan to do any actual cleaning. If Ethan got to it first, fine. If he didn’t, Nate never brought it up.

Still, Ethan would make sure this got taken care of. He wasn’t going to leave blood around the house. Even if it wasn’t very visible, he wanted no evidence of there being people in the basement, and Nate agreed. Downstairs was for mess and blood. Upstairs was for bright, fresh order.

His train of thought was interrupted by the front door clicking open. It was locked unless Ethan’s bracelet with a computer chip embedded came close to it. It was a simple thing. Braided black leather. Thin enough it might just look like a hair-tie to the naked eye. He could take it on and off at will. Without it, Ethan hadn’t been able to escape this house. He’d needed to get ahold of the chip that was in Nate’s watch instead.

Ethan wondered if Nate had moved that chip by now. If it was still in his easily-removed smartwatch, or if he’d wisened up after Ethan’s escape and had it put into something else instead. Unfortunately, Nate was far too light a sleeper for Ethan to sneak into his room while he slept to swipe it when it was on charge. 

If he ever needed that chip, he would have to play trial and error in the moment.

Hooray.

“E-!?” Nate called out, sending his voice echoing through the house.

“Here,” he responded without much enthusiasm. Just still prodding at a spot of red that wouldn’t leave the innermost corner of his thumb. The dining table was close to the door - just obscured by the grand staircase that cut to the upstairs.

He liked it here. Hiding under the stairs. It was a comfort some days.

“Sup,” Nate greeted, stepping up and dropping a brown-paper-wrapped box in front of Ethan.

Ethan’s eyes admittedly perked up to the box, curious. Still refusing to look at Nate. “...what’s that supposed to be?”

“An apology,” Nate hummed, pulling a chair out and sitting down next to Ethan.

Ethan frowned at it, finally looking to Nate. “Do you think you can buy me off or something?”

Nate shrugs. “No. But I can make life a little more bearable. You’re right. He’s yours, not mine. If we’d switched places, I’d probably have killed you for almost taking him. Soooo… if not an apology, this is a ‘thank you for not killing me’ gift.” He flutter-blinked his eyes to ham up the delivery a bit because of course he did.

Ethan snorted half a laugh, pulling his feet off the table and clicking the knife shut. “What even is it?”

Nate raised a are-you-kidding-me-right-now brow. “...it’s giftwrapped. You’re supposed to open it to find out.”

Ethan sighed, picking at the paper until a corner ripped free. It tore straight across the box in a long strip.

Barely any color shone through that stripe, but Ethan knew exactly what it was. Not which model, of course, but he could see the planks. The gundeck. The edge of the stern.

“..you….got me a boat?”

Nate rolled his eyes, pulling back more of the paper for him. “A model that you can build.”

“I- I mean yeah, dipshit, I know what a model is.”

“Then why are you asking.”

“I wasn’t- This is basically a toy.”

“It’s not like it’s for kids or something. I have it on very good authority that this is ‘tOo DiFiCuLt’ for me to do to, so clearly it’s a very grownup thing.”

Ethan can’t help the laugh that puffs from his chest. “Yeah? Who said that?”

“Oh, no no, you need to hear the whole story-” Nate was standing just enough to straighten his chair - perfectly facing Ethan. He perched on the edge of it, hands poised up and locked in for storytelling.

“..you’re making a big deal out of this-”

“Of course I’m making a b- Do you even hear yourself? Have you met me? ‘BiiiG dEaL’ -Shut up-”

Alright, Ethan could admit he was smiling. “I stand uncorrected.”

“Damn right, you do.” He flicked his pointed finger down toward Ethan’s chair. “Though, the court should note that you are sitting right now.”

And the unimpressed glare was back.

Puns.

“So anyway~” Nate locked back into what seemed to be his official storytelling stance. “So I go into the store, right-?”

No response. Just listening.

Nate held the pause for a few moments before his eyes deadened. “This is where you say ‘yeah’?”

Ethan’s nose scrunched up. “Why? You’re going to tell the story anyway.”

“Oh no no no, I need constant verbal affirmation and engagement.”

“And I have to supply that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why?”

“Do you see anyone else here,” Nate posed, gesturing around the house.

Ethan’s arms crossed, almost playful in this stubbornness. “And if I don’t want to~?”

Nate’s eyes shifted somehow at that challenge - a certain hunger there dragging across Ethan as a spark of intrigue. Nate’s hand clicked open his own knife under the table. He lifted it just enough to drag the point across the table. Not even enough to scratch, yet enough to hum a pitched threat against the wood. “Are you sure about that? I can be very persuasive~”

Ethan couldn’t quite decide if it’d be best here to glare or laugh, so he ended up with something between the two. Darkly amused. “You know you can’t make me do shit.”

“Oh? You seem very confident in that.” Nate rose slowly to his feet, looking down on Ethan for once.

“I am,” Ethan parried, at ease; slumped in his chair.

Nate took a small step closer, touching the knife to Ethan’s shoulder before slowly tracing it across the edge of his collarbone through the fabric of his shirt. “Never say never. I’ve had all kinds of ideas I never got to try out on you.”

Alright, he was tired of being under Nate. He pressed up (happy to see Nate move the knife to keep from cutting him), standing to look down on Nate. The knife did raise with him, though, staying pricked against his chest. Ethan snatched it, twisting it easily and simply out of Nate’s grip. 

He tossed it to the table.

Nate pouted, eyes following the knife. “Oh come on, how am I gonna get you to participate in the story??”

Ethan’s fingers gripped into Nate’s shirt, tugging him closer by it. Slightly upward. “You could always just tell the story.”

Nate’s grin flashed right back onto his face. “Oh, so you do want to know what happened~”

A sigh. “Well now I kinda do, so yeah. Start talking.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed, calculating. “Alright! Good enough for me- So-!” He clapped his hands together, not really caring about the grip on his shirt. “So I go into the store and start browsing, yeah? Not really looking for anything specific, mostly going off vibes.”

A pause.

Nate raised a brow, gesturing to Ethan as if to say ‘It’s your line’.

A sigh dragged out of Ethan’s chest with all the silent subtlety of a rusted bumper dragging behind an oldsmobile up the highway. “Y e a h ?” he forced out, the single syllable somehow multiplied and beaten out his throat with punched pronunciation.

Nate’s smirk made a reappearance, so fucking proud of himself for getting Ethan to play along. “There you go~ Very affirming thank you.”

Ethan shoved him backward, watching Nate flail until he landed hard in his chair again.

Sitting up immediately, Nate seemed unperturbed. “So I picked this one out right away and this lady who was working there came over to ask if I needed help.”

Ethan watched, waiting for Nate to continue as he sat back in his own chair. Nate did not continue. Just waiting for Ethan. 

Ugh.

Well, he wasn’t in the mood to have that petty fight again, so he prompted- “And?” As pointedly as possible.

“And I asked her about the kit. The lady looked me up and down and had the audacity to say ‘are you sure you can handle this model?’ Like. In the bitchiest voice you can imagine.”

“Ooo- she sure showed you.”

“Yeah yeah whatever- anyway- She said she didn’t want to sell it to me. Insisted that I wouldn’t be able to handle it and would bring it back for a refund all ruined. So I had to ask for the manager and it was a whole thing.”

Ethan breathed a laugh, reaching forward to pick up and examine the box. “Yeah, okay Karen.” He flipped it over, eyeing the pieces and the complexity of the details. “...wait this one? This is the one she said you couldn’t make??”

“...yeah-?”

Another laugh snickered out of him as he popped open one of the flaps and rummaged under the cardboard to pick out the info sheet. “This is like… level two or something, Nate-”

Nate’s nose scrunched up. “What does that mean?”

“It means you must have looked pretty pathetic to her if she didn't think you could do it.” He hummed, looking over Nate with pity in his eyes and a pout on his lips. “I’m not sure I disagree,” he cooed.

Nate scoffed a laugh. “Um- rude-??”

A shrug as he looked back to the paper, unfolding it to see how many stages there were. “Just saying.”

“So you think you can do it, but I can’t??”

“Yeah, pretty much. Too bad I’m not building it.”

Nate pressed a hand to his chest, practically clutching his pears. “You would just throw this away after I went to all that work to get it for you???”

“Uh-huh-” He was just a bit distracted looking over the instructions. It was a good size. Absolutely huge. A statement piece rather than simple decor or a project. He didn’t even know where they’d put it…

“Ethan, if you don’t build this, I’m going to build it myself and paint it with your blood.”

“Mm. Very nice visual,” he murmured, plucking up some of the planks to survey them. They were.. admittedly a great quality. He didn’t think they’d split under the tacks. Each plank separate and perfect rather than the cheap full-decked pieces that department store models had.

“I thought so, thanks.”

So much missing, though… cheap sets assume you don’t have the essential tools and include shit versions of them. Better models do have faith in you, and therefore give you nothing.. “I don’t think this comes with half of the supplies we need to build it. You’ll have to go back to the store.”

“Oh no, fuck that. Drive to the store yourself.”

The corner of Ethan’s mouth twitched up slightly as he pulled out the rope. It was so well corded for being so small. Incredibly realistic. Far better than the little bits of string the others he worked on had.

“..yeah okay, have fun with that,” Nate eventually said after there was no response. He Stood, swiping his knife back up and closing it.

“I’m not gonna build it, I’m just looking.”

Ethan could feel eyes on him, but didn’t bother looking back. He started pulling more things out, compiling the pieces of the project into a line by what stage of building he’d need them in.

“...uh huh. I’m making coffee - you want some while you work?”

“Oh- yeah sure, thanks,” he muttered, distracted as he ripped open the package with the ribs inside.

“No problem.”

Things quieted down again after that. No one spoke again for hours once Nate had brought the steaming mugs through to the table. They just sipped at coffee as Nate sketched and Ethan planned out what he’d need to get to put this monster together.

David might not be here to help him build this one, yet it still seemed that he was somewhere much closer than before; as if he were secretly watching Ethan work from some corner of the room, whiskey in hand. Just another ship they’d build together.

[Previous | Masterpost | Next]

tags: @prisonerwhump

@whumpawink

@wormwriting

@distinctlywhumpthing

@whump-cafe

@jo-doe-seeking-inspo

@azayta

@batfacedliar-yetagain

@there-will-always-be-blood

@siren-of-agony

@whumpworld

@deltaxxk

@whumpasaurus101

@pickywhumpreader

@whumpberry-cookie

@morning-star-whump

@nailevislev

@throwawaywhumper

@the-mourning-star

@d-cs

@pigeonwhumps

@suspicious-whumping-egg

@snakebites-and-ink

@whumpedydump

@whumplr-reader

@rainbowsandwhumperflies

@starfields08000

@crystallizedme

@lumpofsand

@taterswhump

@starsick1979

As always, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

(Sorry for the weird taglist, tumblr has been rude lately)

[tiramisuucakeee]

4. LOSING MY MIND

( sunflower, yang jungwon )

it was the early morning, and you were out running through the city in your white sport set, hair pulled up neatly with gel, and face flushed pink from the exhaustion. a few blocks away, you spotted a small shop, making you sigh gladly. being the forgetful girl you were, you forgot to bring water bottle, but this shop was your salvation.

picking up your pace, you weaved through the bustling commuters, flashing smiles at the friendly faces you passed.

when you finally reached the shop, you paused to stop the timer on your smartwatch, feeling proud as you glanced at your heart rate and steps. fishing out a bill from the pocket of your shorts, you headed toward the fridge, debating which brand of water to grab.

“personally, i like smart water, you should try it,” a voice called out from behind you. you spun around to see jungwon, the boy whose presence recently managed to catch your attention.

“hey, jungwon, what are you doing here?” you asked, panting slightly as you placed your hands on your hips. he looked effortlessly cool in his all-black sweat set, a striking contrast to your bright outfit.

“i really like the sandwiches here, so i’m buying one for me and my aunt for breakfast,” he smiled, showing off his two precious dimples. “you’re out running this early? that’s impressive,” he asked, opening the fridge next to you to take out a water, seeing as you completely forgot about it.

“uh huh, my parents leave early, and i always do so too, i just run around for a while, and when i feel like my legs are about to give out, i go home to prepare something to eat” you replied, walking alongside him toward the cashier, your heart racing a bit more than usual.

“so you’re usually on your own in the mornings?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. unlike him, who always seemed to have a warm home to return to, you were often left to your own accord, both parents swallowed by their demanding corporate jobs.

giving him a frown, you asked “yeah, kind of, why?”

“would you like to join us for breakfast? it’s just me and my aunt, i live a block away. i really don’t want you eating alone, please y/n,” he admitted, waiting for your answer. there was something about jungwon made you trust him, he gave off a sense of comfort and security that you were a bit familiar with.

you hesitated for just a moment, then a small smile crept onto your face. “uh… yeah, sure,” you replied, feeling a lightness in your chest as he grinned, nearly bouncing on his toes in delight. but he kept his composure and ordered three sandwiches to the cashier with an effortless charm. as he completed the transaction, you suddenly remembered something.

“oh wait, i forgot my water” you realized, about to head back to the fridges, but the boy stopped you. “i picked one up for you, here” he handed the cold bottle to you, your hands grazed gently against his, and you felt a spark of warmth that made you momentarily lose your breath. he swallowed hard, his gaze lingering on you for just a heartbeat longer than necessary.

after you got the goods, and jungwon telling you he could handle carrying the food and drinks all by himself, even if you insisted to help him, you both made your way to his apartment.

the building was a bit older, and smaller than most, the elevator didn’t work, which left the only option of taking the stairs. you kept insisting about carrying at least your food, feeling a bit embarrassed about him paying and also having to transport it all.

“no, i’m okay, but you could help opening the door,” he said, as you got to his floor, and you followed him to the apartment door.

“opening the- yeah, and the keys are?” you asked, as he arrived to the wooden entry. “necklace ‘round my neck,” jungwon simply said, but was internally screaming and rolling around, trying to control the blush that would most likely show in in his face in the next two seconds.

you reached out under his hoodie from the neck, gulping hard, his skin felt cold against your warm hand. trying to keep a straight face, you felt around to get his necklace, noticing he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and clasped it open, taking the key in your hand.

“here,” you awkwardly sniffed, looking away. key in hand, you slid it inside the lock and twisted it right to open the door.

jungwon’s eyes fell on the back of your head, noticing how the front of your head was neat and gelled, but the back wasn’t, having a few flyaways.

“jungwon,” you sang out to him, taking him out of trance.

he motioned for you to open the door and step inside, and went in after you, speaking up. “aunt may! i’m back from the store!” he called out, kicking the door closed with his foot.

you held the necklace-key and your water bottle in hand, looking around the modest apartment. the walls are painted a warm beige, but they���re slightly scuffed in places. the small living room area was crammed with mismatched furniture, an old couch, a rickety coffee table, and a couple of chairs that look like they’ve seen better days.

but it seemed like the coziest place ever, it just radiated a sense of ‘home’ that your penthouse did not.

“uh, i am going to set the table,” jungwon said, glancing around apologetically. “you can stay here in the living room. sorry about the mess.”

you waved your hands, telling him it was alright. “don’t worry, i don’t mind, it’s nice being in a home,” you smiled, and walked over to a wall near the hallway.

“right” jungwon murmured a bit troubled by your words, watching your figure as you skimmed over some photos on the wall, imagining how it would be like to live with you. his dream was to be with someone that would bring a sense of warmth into his life.

the wall was a collage of memories, with various pictures capturing jungwon at different ages. one of young jungwon, in a taekwondo outfit, throwing a kick in the air proudly, a small gold medal around his neck..

another one of a woman who you thought to be his aunt, she looked quite young, and was sporting a big smile, standing next to a freshman grade jungwon, who had big glasses on and tidy uniform.

but the last photo really caught your eye, it was a picture of him recently at the stark tower, you could tell by his messy hair and tall figure. his dimples were on full display as he beamed, a smile of pure joy, as he stood next to the legendary tony stark, who held his hand in a strong handshake.

“oh my god!” a voice exclaimed to your left, jolting you from your thoughts. you turned to see the woman from the picture, aunt may. “are you y/n?” she asked, rushing over and gently taking your shoulders as she studied your face.

“yes? hi?” you gulped, “i don’t know if jungwon told you about me coming over-” before you could finish, she ushered you to the living room couch, her warm presence instantly putting you at ease.

“oh, psh! he has told me all about you” she waved, “about the famous y/n, cheerleader and who almost got hit by a football! i didn’t think you’d be this pretty,” she nodded agreeingly.

“oh! uh… thank you?” you let out a chuckle, fixing your shirt sleeves.

“like, jungwon has barely ever brought a friend over, of course there’s jay, who is always here, he’s like won’s brother at this point!” she laughed, pulling her disveleshed balayaged hair to the front. “but he’s not a girl, i imagined someone else completely.”

as if on cue, jungwon walked into the living room, his eyes widening when he saw you chatting with his aunt, wondering what kinds of things she told you about. he just hoped she hadn’t told you she would show you his baby pictures.

“aunt may! y/n!” he said loudly, interrupting the moment, as you both turned to him.

“won! why didn’t you tell me your new friend was so pretty!” aunt may stood up, walking over to him and ruffling his hair playfully, causing him to blush. he swatted her hand away, trying to regain some dignity, but the grin on his face betrayed him.

“aunt may… don’t be weird,” he groaned. “breakfast is ready.”

the three of you walked into the small cluttered kitchen, and sat down around the table, all having different colored cutlery and cups. you waited for jungwon to take out the sandwiches from the toaster-over, and he placed one on your plate with an award-winning smile.

“i hope you like them,” he said, as he sat down, and served some juice in every glass.

you waited for his aunt to start eating, and then did so yourself, moaning in delight at the food. “mm, this- is really good” you placed the sandwich down. your words made jungwon light up, happy that you like something he did as well.

“so, y/n, right?” aunt may started, “what color is your dress?” she asked, sipping some juice.

you blinked in surprise, caught off guard. “for the dance? i was thinking about red. why?” you tilted your head, curious about where this was going.

“so we can match jungwon’s tie to your dress,” she said, and you both looked at eachother, understanding what she was implying.

“oh, aunt may, we- we are not going to the dance together- she’s just a friend..” he gulped, suddenly finding his sandwich very interested.

and then the thought of going to the dance with him made its way to your head, something you hadn’t considered before. you wouldn’t mind going to the dance with jungwon at all.

so you three continued eating, chatting about other things, football, cheer, his internship with mr. stark, and a bit about your life. aunt may was probably the most excited about jungwon own having a girl over.

when breakfast was done, aunt may leaned back in her chair, a twinkle in her eye. “you can stay over for as long as you want, y/n. and jungwon can walk you back home after you two are done hanging out,” she said, her tone cheerful and a bit mischievous.

you had told her you would call the family’s driver from your phone, and she shouldn’t worry about it.

but you couldn’t help but think that it was crazy how life turned out, never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you would be in yang jungwon's room, spending time with him after he saved you from getting hit by that football and invited you for breakfast. as you looked at him, the realization that you actually enjoyed his company made you smile. the moments you shared felt effortless, unlike any other boy you had been with before.

where had yang jungwon been all your life, and why had you not noticed him before?

“you like photography?” you asked, walking over to him slowly, standing in your tippy toes to look over his shoulder at the camera he had in his hands.

jungwon’s spider sense was going absolutely crazy about you being so near, feeling your body right behind his, inches separating you both from touching.

“yeah, it’s just something i like to do,” he replied, his voice a little shaky as he coughed to clear his throat. he took off the lens cover and turned the camera on, the soft ‘click’ sound echoing in the small room.

“really? wait, can you try it on me?” you beamed, jumping back and posing, getting a fond laugh from him. “as you wish.”

you held up a peace sign next to your face, and smiled brightly, waiting for him to take the picture. as he looked through the lens, jungwon’s expression softened, his focus entirely on you.

the camera clicked again, and in that instant, it felt like your heart skipped a bit, suddenly aware of the whole situation. you were interested in him, actually, inexplicably. he made you curious about what it would be like to feel a dream.

“done,” he grinned, and pressed some buttons on his camera, turning the picture to you. “look.”

you blinked rapidly, feeling something of a slight preassure on your heart at being so close to jungwon. he zoomed in the picture, that captured you like a painting.

“wow, that’s amazing,” you said, also holding the camera, barely grazing his hand and glanced up at him, seeing that he was already looking deeply at you.

he was just so close, so absolutely close, his gaze couldn’t help but fall into your lips. you felt drawn to him in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. jungwon’s breath hitched, and he took a small step closer, your bodies almost touching.

your heart raced as you were momentarily falling into him, as if something magnetic was pulling you closer to his body. you were aware of everything - his dark eyes, soft face and messy hair - and also of nothing at the same time, your entire being focusing on how much your blood rushed to your face.

everything was perfect, almost in those final moments before your lips brushed, where the line between friendship and something more blurred into an intoxicating haze. it was as if the multiverse had held its breath.

“won!” aunt may loudly barged into the room, watching her phone. “why don’t you show y/n that huge lego star thing you have, huh?” she looked up just in the moment you two pulled apart, careful not to look too guilty.

“yeah, okay…” jungwon nodded, still yearning for what almost happened a second ago. “i will, aunt may.”

you swung back and forth on your feet, looking away awkwardly, as his aunt closed the door after making sure everything was fine.

you prayed that he wouldn’t mentioned what had just happened, and he didn’t, only kneeled under his single bed, taking out a lego structure. jungwon sat criss-crossed on the floor, and you joined him, a bit of distance between you two. “what’s this?” you but your lip, glancing around the round thing.

“it’s star wars, the death star, uh, have you seen any of the movies?” he asked. you wanted to agree, not wanting to get made fun of from not seeing a movie, just like all the others you had dated did.

“no, i haven’t,” you answered mindlessly, cursing at yourself for telling the truth.

but instead of mocking you or laughing, jungwon slowly nodded. “i see, you should though, they’re really good, it’s basically like, an epic space opera, right? it’s set in a galaxy far, far away, filled with all these incredible worlds and alien species. there’s this guy, anakin, he’s one of my favorite characters…” he rambled, his hands slicing through the air as he continued. “oh, also! you’ve got the jedi, who are like these super cool knights with lightsabers and the power of the force - think of it as a mystical energy that connects all living things, they fight against the sith, who are basically the dark side’s version of the jedi, with their own lightsabers and trying to take over the galaxy.” jungwon paused, seeing your focused face.

“was that too much information?” he chuckled, placing down his lego darth vader and yoda, with a lopsided smile. but you were just too taken aback by all of him, something just made you notice ever single detail about jungwon, he was a complete nerd and somehow that made you even more attracted to him.

“yes- no, it’s not,” you corrected yourself. “you should show me one of the movies someday, you know? we could-“ you wanted him to get the hint, wanting to know if he was actually interested in you or not, but it completely flew over his head.

“that’s such a good idea! i got the dvd’s, hold on-“ he stood up, and went to his desk, rummaging through calculus papers and school books, finally landing on the plastic cases. “okay, i have, the phantom menace, attack of the clones, revenge of the sith, a new hope, the empire strikes back..” he kept reading the titles, as you rolled your eyes and stood up, heading over to where he was.

“whichever comes first of course,” you shrugged, as he handed you the first movie, still too occupied to look at you, busy with his movies. “i swear i had this one over here…” he mumbled, still lost in his world of movies.

you took the dvd, and glanced between him and the case. “jungwon,” but he kept searching around for something, just so happy you showed interest in his favorite films of all time.

“won!” you called again, getting his attention, who looked like a deer in headlights. “yeah?”

“i said…” you took his hand in yours, placing the dvd back in it, and kept it there, stepping forward, “we both should watch it someday.”

jungwon’s eyes widened in disbelief. could this really be happening? or was it just a friendly gesture? he didn’t want to waste the chance to find out. “you mean as in a…” he trailed off, searching your face for confirmation before risking embarrassment.

you let out a soft laugh, shifting. “yes, as in that,” you confirmed his suspicions, which somehow, made him still doubt. “i was also meaning to ask about the, uh, the dance, you, know, what your aunt said-“

and just like always, just when the hundreds of existing heartbroken spider-man’s who were rooting for the pair were about to celebrate, the moment had to get ruined by mr. time. your phone started sounding with a cheeky ringtone, letting you know your driver was here to pick you up.

TAGS: @jiiyen

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[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 14

Prompt: Humiliation Pairing: nonidol!Jeongin (I.N) x olderfem!reader WC: 2k Summary: You’ve had a day. You need a drink. Alone preferably. And yet here comes the boy who has been staring you down all night.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Jeongin (I.N) or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

TW/CW Preface. Jeongin uses the word “noona” to refer to the reader. I just really couldn’t think of a better word to refer (cutely) to a woman older than you but not “mommy” and part of what this specific version of him gets off on is the power of fucking someone older than him. ANYWAY if that give you the ick, turn back now.

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

TW/CW: fucking in a bathroom, humiliation, degradation, reader nicknames- (noona, ONE instance of “mommy”, whore, dumb slut, slut, disgusting), under negotiated kink, cum in panties, dubcon (they’re drunk, most agree that consent at this point is...well murky AT BEST), ROUGH sex (gagging, underprepped, no aftercare). Age gap *(unspecified, reader is older) 

 “Oh no no no,” you stopped the young man in his tracks. “You are much too young for me baby boy.”  He hadn’t spoken a single word to you yet, spending most of the night staring at you from the corner of the bar as many other men had all of your life. You didn’t need to know much, his sweet dimpled face told you everything you needed to know. Old enough to drink, sure, but certainly too young for you.  “Aw,” his voice sounds disappointed yet determined as he smiles. “Noona, you haven’t even let me speak, you don’t know why I’m here.”  Coolly taking another sip of your drink, you look at him from the corner of your eye. “I know you’ve been staring at me all night. It’s enough to make assumptions.”  “So you’re like a museum piece? I can look but I can’t touch?” He sticks the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he smiles and winks cheekily.  You let out an exasperated sigh, the line was cheesy but his audacity was admirable. Looking straight ahead you down your drink, if this was what the night was, leave it up to Bacchus, not your brain. “Do you have an elevator pitch or do I have to suffer more bad lines?”  “The elevator pitch, noona, is that younger guys are the trend. You seem like a trendsetter. It seems like a great opportunity for you to increase your portfolio and it just so happens that I have availability for tonight.”  “I regret the elevator pitch, buy me a drink or do you need to call your parents to authorize the charge?”  “No mommy, I’m a big boy in more than one way.” He tries to wink and cringes. “That was bad. I'm sorry, I’ll grab your next drink if you let me.”  Eyes wide with disbelief you weigh your options, send the kid away or see what the night brings. In reality he can’t be THAT much younger than you. You’re both here in a bar, drinking,he has to be at least twenty one years old. Unless he has a fake, the devious little shit. You’ve already spent more time with him than you’d originally intended. Before you’re able to politely wave him off your smartwatch pings and you go delving into the depths of your purse. In the time it takes you to dig the bartender is back and the kid is ordering you and himself another round.  “I thought you said ‘if you let me’ I don’t recall giving you permission.”  “You seemed preoccupied and if i’m being honest, a little stressed. No pressure, you can enjoy it without me, or with me. You must admit I’m at least a little exciting, I might be fun to keep around a bit longer.”  Fighting your smile you nod nonchalantly to the barstool next to you. “The seat’s open.”

 You don’t remember how many drinks you’ve had but it’s enough to be following him to the bathroom. Him -Jeongin, IN, Innie- he had so many names from his friends and family. It was less alcohol than you’d hoped before you’d fallen to his boyish charm. Eager, honest, and way too fucking into you to pass up.  His hand is on your lower back as the two of you walk towards the back, almost as if you’re going to exit through the kitchen instead of heading to one of the three single occupancy bathrooms. Touching the doorknob you hesitate briefly, door creaking under the light pressure.  Jeongin is on you before the door even finishes opening, spinning you around to face him, hands on your hips as he backs you through the door in an impassioned kiss.  “What if someone sees?” You half whisper as he kisses your neck, fumbling with the small zipper of your skirt.  “Then they’ll know we’re fucking,” he states simply, giving up on the skirt and yanking your blouse free. “Do you have a problem with that?”  The heat of embarrassment creeps at the sides of your face and twists in your gut pleasantly. “Isn’t it…they’d know…” your tongue ties, a girlish giggle from a fluttering heart interrupting. Jeongin isn’t helping as he pushes the cups of your bra down, thumbs running over your nipples as he hurries to free your breasts.  “Does that excite you? Someone walking in on you getting fucked by some stranger in a shit bathroom in a shity dive bar?” Jeongin pinches your nipples slightly, your eyes rolling as you bite back a moan.  “It does.”  “What does?” He pinches your nipples again.  “Fucking a stranger in a shitty dive bar.” Your heart jumps, just saying it outloud feels exciting. Hearing his words in your voice feels more real.  “What does fucking a stranger do?” His lips ghost over your neck as he nearly whispers, each consonant buzzing against you. Hand traveling between your thighs, the tips of his fingers rub circles in the cotton fabric of your underwear, right above your clit.  “Turns me on, fuck, Jeongin!” You squeal  The squish of your damp panties is proof enough of his handiwork. “And you thought a kid like me couldn’t have a woman like you.” He laughs, nibbling at the column of your throat. “So wet for me already. Can control everything but that needy cunt of yours. Who got you this worked up?  Pushing the gusset of your panties aside his middle finger plays at your entrance, circling slowly, barely dipping in. “You did,” you gasp, hips canting to try to trick him into slipping further down your channel.

 Gathering some of your essence on his fingers he backs off, playing with the strands clinging between his fingers. “Clean them,” he offers to you, your eyes already glazed over an unfocused as you lean into the tiled wall.  You do it, eagerly. Taking his digits into your mouth and swirling your tongue around them. Sucking him clean and then some.  “So your mouth is good for something,” he coos pressing your mouth open to fuck along the soft pink surface of your tongue. Watching drool pool and spill from the corners of your lips. “You’re so much hotter when you give into me. Just like this. Why don’t you put that smart little mouth around my cock?”

 There’s no discussion, you simply slip to the floor, knees pressing into the cold dirty tile. “Disgusting” you mutter to yourself.  Grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Jeongin tilts your head up,  looming over you. “Just like you. Now open and stick your tongue out like the dumb slut you are.”  Eyes wide you comply. His lips purse as he summons a globule of spit, letting it cling to his lips as it drops slowly down to your mouth. “Keep it open,” he demands, freeing his stiffened member from its confines. Using the tip he pushes his spit along your tongue, watching his length eclipse the velvety pink surface. “Just look at how sweet you can be,” he coos, “from here you aren’t so scary at all are you, noona?”  Doe-eyed you look up at him and shake your head no. Holding your jaw as open as you can for him, relaxing all the way through the back of your throat as he pushes deeper. The stretch at the hinges of your jaw is almost painful as he smiles down at you, the cute dimples suddenly seem sinister when paired with his actions. It sends a shiver all the way down to your core. You’re so pent up you could scream, instead whimpering and squeezing your thighs together for relief. Guilty that it turns you on so much you can barely form thoughts as he fucks into your open mouth, hand cushioning the back of your head from the tile wall.

 Kicking your knees apart, Jeongin slides his shoe under your ass as you hump blindly against his leg. It provides some, albeit humiliating, relief to your throbbing cunt.  “Just what would your colleagues think? Humping my leg like a flithy slut. A professional like you getting broken down by a boy like me.” He finally pushes all the way back, breaching the ring of muscle at the top of your throat as you gag around him. Mucus and spit and tears covering your cheeks and chin, eyes glazed over.  “Doing alright?” Jeongin asks sweetly, hand slowly wiping the mess across your face.  “Fuck me. Please. Please. I need it so badly. I’m so ready for you baby please.”  “Get up.”  You wobble still half drunk on alcohol half drunk on hormones, leaning into the wall for support.  “Grab the sink.”  The white ceramic of the sink is cool against your overheated skin as you hold onto the edge of the basin, waiting. Blurry eyed you watch him through the mirror in front of you, like the killer in a horror movie about to claim his next victim. He looks wild while you look like a wreck, makeup running down your cheeks and hair in knots. He hoists your skirt to your waist, pushing your soaked panties to the side.  “You won’t need any prep right? You’ve taken cock enough right? I’m just a young guy, it’ll be no problem for you with all your experience.”  Your mouth opens to beg him to go slow, instead it feels like your gut is punched through your esophagus as his blunt head bullies its way between your walls. The stretch sudden and brutal. Sliding forward with him, hips bruising against the lip of the sink, your face smushes into the mirror in front of you with a reedy whine.  “Shit, you’re tight noona. Fuck.” He grunts as he rocks closer to you, steadying for a second before he begins in earnest. Fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass he pulls almost all the way back, savoring the feeling of your walls tugging him back in eagerly. The dip of your back arches more dramatically as he thrusts forward, drawing another whine from you.  Pulling you upright and tight to his chest his hand covers your mouth tightly. “Do you want everyone to know I’m ruining you? Or are you just so fucked out you don’t care anymore.”  “Fucked,” you sob, spit coating the palm of his hand. “Good. Fucked.”  He thrusts up again. The combination of slight angle change and the press of the sink against your groin has his tip aimed directly into the soft target of your spot.  It’s overwhelmingly good as he jackhammers into you, hips snapping ruthlessly. Panting your body shifts violently between limp and clenched, unsure of how to handle the overload of pain and pleasure.  “Go ahead slut, cum on my cock. You’re lucky I’m even letting you.” He sneers, lips pressed to the shell of your ear. The tickle of his breath is what sends you over the edge, shaking and gasping as your walls clamp around him. He leans the both of you forward as you vision darkens, body slackening against the mirror. Cheek pressed to your lower back you both pant as he withdraws suddenly, staggering back from you slightly.

 You hardly notice he’s left you like that, only alerted by the click of the door unlocking and closing again. In your post climax sobriety you realize you have no idea if he’d even bothered to wear a condom. Slowly your hand slides over your ass, nearly gagging at the smear of sticky residue stuck to the inside of your underwear. Drifting higher to pull your skirt down, something small like a clothing tag pokes you.

 A business card.  “I got your tab, call me,” scrawled hastily on the back.

Sorry i’m off my groove I actually wrote this one three fucking times. One veered into A/B/O territory which is so out of my league like i don’t know what i was thinking. Love reading it, no idea how to write it.

Anyway I’m going to make my way againnnnn!

[ouranbutworse]

Kyoya: I haven't gotten an F since I failed recess in second grade. I was a painfully boring child.

Kaoru: You're still boring now.

Kaoru: I hope Hikaru is okay, he can get pretty insecure when he's alone.

Hikaru at the other end of the school: Kaoru? KAORU?!

Mori: When Shania Twain says "let's go girls" I feel like I could kick a door off its hinges.

Tamaki: I wasn't sure what to get Antoinette for her birthday so I bought her the same Apple watch as me so we match.

Mrs. Ootori: Fuyumi, don't get pregnant. Getting pregnant with Kyoya was the worst mistake of my life.

Kyoya: I'm right here.

Mrs. Ootori: Oh right, I forgot. Apparently I tried to kick him away, like giraffes do at the zoo.

Kyoya: ... I'm doing so well emotionally.

Tamaki: Where do babies come from?

Yuzuru: Tamaki, I'm sure we've talked about this.

Tamaki: Yeah, but I'm blanking. Two guys, right?

Kaoru: Sorry, we have to leave early, Ageha's school called, she tried to play God at the science fair again.

Tamaki: I'll pay for your lunch, Haruhi!

Haruhi: Oh, okay.

Lunchlady: That'll be 100,000 yen.

Tamaki: ...What the fuck?

Mori: I love my friends. They never demand I speak. I can go nonverbal and listen to them like they're a podcast.

Kyoya: My smartwatch just congratulated me on my run and said I burned 300 calories... I was sat down eating a cheeseburger.

Tamaki: Hikaru, Kaoru, FBI agents don't hold hands!

Hikaru: These ones do!

Kaoru: Yeah, and they sleep in the same bed!

Honey: While we were in Boston I got this 10% off coupon, it saved me $90 at a bakery!

Mori: He saved $90 on a $900 purchase, and he's still happy about it.

Kyoya: Right, I'm leaving for my doctor's appointment. Please behave while I'm gone.

Kaoru: Still trying to find your soul?

Kyoya: Oh please, they gave up on that when I was less than a year old.

Hikaru: The oneesan from the train poster I fell in love with got pregnant, so I've been crying about that for a few nights now.

Kaoru: Next time, tell a therapist that instead of me.

Renge: Hey, what did you guys get for number twelve?

Kaoru: I got eighteen.

Haruhi: I got nine point five.

Hikaru: I got Abraham Lincoln... for some reason.

Hikaru: Can we ride our new scooters outside?

Kyoya: Do whatever, I'm not your mother.

Hikaru: Okay! Weee!

Kyoya: Not in the street!

Midwife: Halloween, what a day to go into labour, eh? I'll get a nurse to wipe the face paint off.

Reiko: No, I want to look like this. I put it on after I went into labour.

Akira: Hey, I just rolled over in bed and Hikaru is here with me. Is Kaoru with you?

Renge: Let me check... yes.

Akira: Great, I'll be there in ten to make the swap.

Kyoya: I'm getting blackmailed at school...

Fuyumi: What?!

Yuuichi: Nobody blackmails our baby brother but us!

Akito: Yeah, messing with Kyoya is a privilege, not a right!