#and again sorry for taking so long to respond to this

[randomness-in-motion]

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them?

Makié is 30, they don't celebrate their birthday. Their father gifted them a book about Wyverns on their 8th, it was the last gift they received and their most cherished for that reason.

🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred?

The scars across their body from an overload of electric magic when they were 8 1/2. Occasionally they'll have either emotionally overwhelming moments or moments of overexertion that lead to magic overload, causing the scars to become irritated/inflamed.

🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

Haven't currently written about them having any arguments that were serious, though I do have one in mind for a future entry due to a recent spree of writing. I think Lucanis is going to be doing some apology baking.

🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard?

Makié has an older sister and a twin brother. They have not seen them since they were 8 1/2, and haven't been able to find out what happened to them in the years since. Their closest friend Dalia is more of a surrogate mother figure, and is also the person that rescued them and brought them to the Crows after they'd healed. She still lives in Treviso and Makié visits her as often as possible.

🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold?

A desire demon actually tried and failed around a year before Makié ended up being sent off with Varric, and then tried and failed again not long after they'd joined Varric. If there were a demon that could actually succeed, it would be a Despair Demon.

🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

Prior to Veilguard Makié had only been in one relationship, they'd been seeing a Veil Jumper. Iseri was adventurous and bad at taking advice when focused on a goal. The relationship ended when Iseri did not survive an encounter with a Venatori lackey.

🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say?

Hibiscus and Honey, and occasionally Blood Orange.

🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse?

They have a small alcove in the top floor of a Treviso building that no one uses, when they get stressed they sneak off at night and spend time there laying in a nest of blankets & pillows staring out at the sky/stars through the window.

🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison?

Iseri, because Makié feels that is they'd just explained better then maybe Iseri would have listened and would still be alive.

🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater)

It's not so much irrational as it's due to the joy that is Crow training, but they are severely claustrophobic. Even clothes that are too snug cause them issues at times, and tight hugs are rarely accepted.

🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments? 💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like?

They nearly died at 8 1/2. Their last thought as they lost consciousness was "Ir abelas, Mamae."(I'm sorry, Mother). Makié and Viago argue a lot due to Makiés' impulsivity and Viago's overprotectiveness. Viago should just make a stamp that says 'Actions have consequences' and bonk Makié on the forehead with it during every argument where Makié responds with 'But it worked!' just to save himself some time. The moment they were sent away had Viago trying to not let it get to him, and Teia giving him a look as they led Makié away after reassuring them that it was only temporary.

🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food)

They managed to get the person who saved them to take them to where they'd lived to see if their family was there, and when they weren't, Makié retrieved the book on wyverns that their father had gifted them and a thin delicate silver chain of their mothers. When Makié went to the Crows, Dalia kept the items safe for them as fledglings weren't allowed to have belongings.

🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish?

Makié has a discrete Antivan Crow tattoo between and just slightly below their breasts. They nearly fell asleep as they were getting it(they don't sleep much).

🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

They were 8 1/2, it was an act of despair and rage followed by loss of consciousness. Upon waking, Makié was angry that the last two had gotten away.

Woe! Rook ask game be upon ye!

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them? 🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred? 🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved? 🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard? 🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold? 🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end? 🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say? 🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse? 🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison? 🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater) 🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments? 💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like? 🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food) 🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish? 🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

[peachsayshi]

PEACH YOUR BABY DADDY!SUKUNA.....

He distanced himself bc he's not a good guy, he's got a shit job, can barely pay child support but he does what he can. And he always looks after your daughter when you're busy, takes every moment to be with her that he can, even tho he knows that you're the more capable parent. You were always too good for him, and he was your bad boy fling, your mistake.

"I think you love momma more." His daughter told him, bless her unfiltered thoughts. She was probably right. Somehow, after all this time, he still found you completely stunning. He felt guilty for the way he treated you, seeing you persevere and thrive as you've gotten older. If anything, you got more beautiful with each passing day, and he couldn't be happier that his child was being raised by you, even if that meant he had to be out of the picture.

"maybe I do." He chuckled, a tinge of regret to his words. He remembered the ways he hurt you, the look on your face when he made you cry. His selfishness. It was always his selfishness that got in the way. "But I'm not good at it."

// brutally soft // III. 

baby daddy!sukuna x reader 

tags: non curse au; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; mentions drug use and drinking; mentions cheating; sukuna being soft; unrequited love; angsty | | read this for more context & this & this

note: (I am so sorry this took me so long to respond to) but!! you don't get to leave something like this and not expect me to sweetly return the favor by meddling with your feelings the way you did mine. because holy shit, nyx, just hearing sukuna say "I'm not good at it" in a hushed, sad voice made me want to take my own ribs out.

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

"mama! guess what!" your daughter says. "I have a secret!"

you smile to yourself because she always has a secret to share these days. little, innocent things that capture her attention which seem worthy of keeping confidential.

"you know," you say as you help her into her dress. "you're not supposed to tell secrets when you have them..."

"but I tell you everything, mama!"

you lift her up in your arms, the weight of her body getting heavier by the day and reminding you of how fast she's growing.

sukuna is taking her to visit her uncle yuji, and she has been over the moon about it. you place her on the seat of her vanity, and proceed to fix her hair since sukuna will be arriving in twenty minutes, and you want to make sure that she's all set once her dad gets here. you giggle at her response, "okay, okay, what's the secret?"

she looks at you from the mirror's reflection and covers her mouth as she chuckles.

"hey, what's with the sly face?" you prod, holding a chunk of her hair gently between your palm.

"do you know ms. kiko?" she asks, referring to her pre-school teacher.

"mhmm, what about her?"

she giggles again. "well, she told told mrs. chiyo that she thinks daddy is cute!!"

your heart thumps. oddly.

you're not immune to the way that the women look at the father of your child. it's the same alluring, seductive energy that drew you to sukuna in the first place.

but it's been years since you've both been intimate together in any capacity, you're sure that he's probably got someone on call if and when necessary. considering he has more spare time than you do without a child running around, you're pretty sure that sukuna is satisfied with whatever situationship he's in. you've learned to swallow the discomfort of the idea of sukuna with other women. just like how you had to bury the hurt of the very one who tore your relationship apart.

you hum at her observation, your fingers idly braiding her hair.

it's not like you were single anymore either. you've been casually dating a lawyer on and off. it wasn't serious per se, but it wasn't a fleeting relationship where it made you feel like you were entirely free of the attachment.

he's even met sukuna at this point.

granted those dates are few and far between, but you were a single mother who worked full time.

trying to commit to a relationship is hard.

even though, you would love to share all this with...someone.

"anyway, I had to warn daddy to be careful..." your daughter interjects.

"warn him?" you repeat with a smile, her choice of words adorable.

"yeah! so, I told daddy that ms. kiko was in love with him, and asked him if I should tell her to stop..."

"stop?"

"being in love with him!" she responds with a grimace.

that makes you laugh. "and why would you do that, hmm?" you question gently for fun.

"because I know that daddy loves you more, mama!"

your heart thumps again, harder this time. so hard you feel it nearly knock the wind out of you. you clear your throat to ease the apprehension while your daughter kicks her legs with anticipation.

"and how would you know that?" "because," she insists, "daddy told me that he loves you more than anyone else in this world"

her words spill out of her, a glass of water that's been carelessly knocked over. you scrunch your brows as each word registers into your brain, soaking over your to do lists and mental checks.

"what?" you whisper as you stare at this little girl who has already carried on the conversation.

"after me, obviously," she presses - because no one can take her place when it comes to the love that you and sukuna both give her.

"wait-wait..." you say a little breathless, your hands suddenly trembling as you do your best to finish the job you started. "what did your daddy tell you? I didn't quite-"

"he said he loves you more than anyone else in the world..." she repeats, her focus on the rogue hair brush that sits at her small vanity. "so, yeah, that's why I asked daddy if I should tell ms. kiko to stop saying he's cute..."

"your...your daddy is just being silly..." you murmur, trying to underplay the statement. you slip the hairband around her second braid to secure the style in place.

impossible, you think. that's impossible.

so much time has passed between you both.

you buried that part of your past long ago.

left it and refused to look back-

"nu-uh. he said that I don't have to say anything to ms. kiko. that it's okay because he loves momma more, anyway. but daddy also told me once that he's not that good at it," she adds on, her fingers picking at the bristles of her bright purple brush, "whatever that means..."

"when did you and your daddy have this conversation..."

the realization hits her then, and she stares up at you before covering her mouth. "oops," she states, glancing from side to side, "I pinky promised daddy I wouldn't tell you that..."

before you can fish out anything else from her, she hops off her seat, her feet pattering away as she moves across the room towards her pile of plushies.

"who should I take with me?" she says loudly, brushing aside the fact that she said far more than she should. she stands with her hip jutted out and her finger pressed against her lips, her back facing you.

you have to lean against her closet to steady yourself. you do your best to rationalize sukuna's words, trying to decipher the pieces in this game of whispers.

your mind flashes to the horrid break up five and a half years ago. a memory that exists hazily in the back of your mind, to the moment of you standing in sukuna's dingy old apartment holding a lacy white bra between your fingers.

it was not yours.

"what is this?" you gasped, your breath straining as your chest rose and fell with unease. "what the fuck is this..."

it's the only time you've ever seen sukuna panicked.

your memory only captures his words in blurs.

of him drinking too much.

way too much.

of him not waking up alone but swearing that he thought he was was you.

of him not recollecting his own thoughts because he blacked out that night.

of him being just as shocked when he realized the warm body next to him was not his girlfriend.

he begged you to forgive him.

"Baby, I swear. I fucking swear I will clean up my act. I-I'll never fucking drink again. Fuck, I went too far last night. One of the guys was passing around these pills I shouldn't have fucked around with them..."

you couldn't.

you couldn't accept any of it.

you already tolerated so much with him.

the drinking, the recreational drug use, his inability to keep a job, and him nearly ending up in jail for causing fights.

but you saw so much more in that man - and yet, he proved you wrong.

this betrayal spoke volumes.

this betrayal proved to you that you were expendable to him too.

that you just weren't that important.

that shadow of that man doesn't exist anymore. not with this new version of sukuna in your life.

he almost makes you forget the past. this man; your daughter's sunlight. her knight in shining armor. the source of her joy.

he may not have been good at loving you, but that little girl has him in the palm of her hand.

and he loves her with all his might, it feels like his absolution.

"mama?" your daughter calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

she's standing right in front of you now, holding a rabbit plushie in one hand and a penguin in the other.

"can I take both?" she asks innocently, her wide eyes glittering brightly as she remains oblivious to your own personal drowning.

"n-no," you stammer out, and affectionately poke the small dimple in her cheek. "just one, my love. we all know your uncle yuji will have more for you when you see him..."

her eyes widen, "that's right!" she exclaims, "he always finds the best and softest ones!"

the bell rings, and you abruptly stand on your feet.

your throat tight, your stomach fluttering.

"daddy's here!" your daughter cheers, and instantly runs out of the room.

you pick up her weekend bag and sling it over your shoulder. you pause and exhale softly, telling yourself to relax before following in her footsteps.

sukuna's deep voice greets you first.

"look at these braids on you..."

you find them both at the foyer, your daughter already scooped up in her father's big, muscular arms. his hand is tugging at one of her braids and she's smiling wildly in his direction.

he's wearing an oversized leather jacket, the fit only bulking up his stature. your daughter is gripping his black tee between her hands, and she yanks it gently before asking: "can we go now?"

sukuna smiles and your spine shivers.

age has done wonders for him too.

"easy, princess, let me say hi to your mom first..."

your fingers grip onto the strap of her weekender bag nervously. you don't know why you suddenly feel very aware of how you look.

of the fact that you're completely barefaced and running on five hours of sleep. that your choice in clothes is a pair of unflattering sweats and hoodie which has some coffee stains on it. you desperately need to wash your hair, and are due for a manicure appointment.

sukuna turns to face you, "hey you, I didn't notice you standing there..."

you clear your throat again, "hi! sorry...I uh-I didn't want to interrupt..."

sukuna adjusts the hold on your daughter, allowing you to approach him as he couldn't take off his boots.

"she all ready for me?" he asks.

"mhmm" you answer quietly, at a complete loss for words because all you can hear is "daddy said he loves you more than anyone else in the world."

you hand off the bag to him, which he takes with ease.

"it's not too late to join us," he offers, but you give him a small smile and shrug of your shoulders.

"trapped with work unfortunately,"

sukuna glances in your daughters direction, "I tried..."

she pouts your way. "you sure, mama?"

"yeah, my love, I am sure."

you slide into sukuna's frame, doing your best to carefully not touch any part of his broad canvas. you stand up on your tip toes and place multiple kisses on your daughter's cheek.

"I love you and I am going to miss you like crazy these next two days," you state sweetly, feeling her wrap her arms around your neck to give you a hug and a kiss in return. "promise me you'll be on your best behavior..."

"I promise!!" she answers.

you find the courage to meet sukuna's soft eyes, the ease on his face doing nothing to help your shattering state.

"I guess you're both set then," you say with a sigh.

he furrows his brow at your tone, and leans forward to make direct eye contact toward you. your lips part slightly at the close proximity of his face with yours, and he tilts his head like a curious cat before asking: "you okay?"

your heat burns so naturally. your heart ready to climb it's way up your throat. you blink back in surprise at his question, and stutter out a "I-I'm fine..."

"you sure?" he presses as he casually stands upright again, like he didn't just pop the bubble of your personal space. "you seem a little off..."

"I am okay," you reassure with a firm nod, before dropping your gaze down at your feet as you shift your balance. "I-I just have a lot on my mind today is all..."

there is a gentle tap just underneath your chin, your attention lifts up to look back at sukuna. his expression is stoic, but you can see the concern in his tense jaw. he taps the space just beneath your bottom lip, your insides turning at the gesture he used to do to you countless times before.

"anything I need to be worried about?" he asks calmly, his choice of words a veil over his obvious unsettlement.

you feel like you really can't breathe then.

your mind spins to when you carelessly kissed him. to when he returned the gesture at your daughter's play.

what seemed so innocent now feels like a serious overstep.

your hand circles around his wrist and you pull him away from you. "I'm fine, Ryomen," you acknowledge politely, trying to keep your words detached but kind.

after you see them both off and shut the front door, you find yourself pressed against the wooden frame. your back weakly glides down the surface until you're sitting on the floor. you bring your knees close to your chest, shaking at the prospect not because you don't want it to be true, but because you are terrified of allowing yourself to even open your heart to sukuna again.

he broke you. he hurt you. and yet, he somehow was the only thing that healed those wounds.

he is the reason why you were able to bring your daughter into this world. he treated her with immense love and supported you in every capacity to build this imperfect little family with you.

ryomen sukuna - your dark angel. the source of your deepest pain, and the reason for your happiest joy.

the wall that you've kept between you and sukuna exists as a safety barrier. you can peek over whenever necessary, but it doesn't mean you ever have to cross that boundary.

and yet, you've caught yourself with the consideration of sitting on the ledge, or maybe even stepping onto the other side.

all it takes for you is to then see the cracks and damages of the past as a reminder of what keeps stopping you.

"get a grip of yourself" you mutter out loud.

you let go of that love. you remind yourself, and you both are better for it.

sukuna is a completely different individual now, and you are in a much happier place than you were before.

the whirlwind romance, the intense passion and addictive excitement fizzled. the sparkle having faded the moment his betrayal was revealed.

maybe your love for each other is just too destructive when intertwined so closely. but existing loosely as small strings, and tethered to the singular entity that lives and breathes because of it...

maybe that should be more than enough for you both.

and you don't know why the thought breaks your heart a little.

[keikikait]

ʙᴀʙʏ ʙʟᴜᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.8k

summary: you're just one of his many conquests, so why does he need you?

warnings: ANGST, friends with benefits, mild yearning/pining, rafe cannot handle his emotions, ward mention, slight jealous!reader, not proofread

a note: idk if i ate. i'm sorry that it's a little short. :( also, my stalker!rafe fic needs SERIOUS work, so i decided to upload this instead. i am very unhappy with it.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Sometimes you think you aren’t meant to be loved. 

It’s almost comical, the way you just sit there and take it. The way you let him walk all over you, taking bites out of you just to toss you aside for later. He cut off slices of you when he needed, never taking the full thing. Always little samples, just to keep you hooked. He would chew you up and spit you out, and you would always come crawling back.

You watch as Rafe dresses himself, eyes landing on his ass as he pulls up his boxers. He always dresses so quickly, not even handing you a towel as he paces around your room, gathering his things. At first, you thought he just didn’t like your apartment. You were a Pogue, after all, even though you were lucky enough to move to a nicer area of The Cut. You spent a lot of time redecorating, trying to make it a little bit nicer. A little bit cleaner. Anything to get him to stay.

Your apartment was small. Cozy. Quaint. 

It reeks of you. And that’s why Rafe won’t stay.

Rafe turns around, catching your eye. He can’t help the small smile that stretches across his lips as he pulls his jeans on. “Admiring the view?”

“For as long as I can.” You say.

Your response surprises him, and his eyes widen just slightly. He stares for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He clears his throat, breaking eye contact. “You’re too sweet for your own good.” He mutters, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his socks on.

“I wish you would stay.” You mumble, aching to reach out and touch him. But you don’t.

“I know you do,” Rafe sighs, tying his shoes on. “But I can’t, sweetheart. You know that.”

“I do.” Your voice is soft.

“So why do you keep asking me to stay?” It comes out angrier than he intended. But maybe you needed that.

“I…” You swallow hard. “I don’t know.”

“My answers always no. Why do you keep askin’?” Rafe stands, grabbing his wallet and keys off of the bedside table. “Shit’s starting to piss me off.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, sitting up, holding the duvet to your chest. You feel like you’re always telling him that. 

“Quit being sorry. Just stop fucking asking it,” He turns to face you. “Jesus. It’s not that hard.”

You don’t know what to say. You nod, looking down.

Rafe sighs, running a hand through his hair. He can’t deny, he loves when you look like that. Sad. Vulnerable. It drives him wild. His gaze lands on your neck, bruised and marked by his teeth. Possession looks good on you, He often thinks. 

But that was it. He could only take so much of your submission. He couldn’t take you asking him to stay, too.

“I won’t ask again.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, still avoiding his gaze.

His jaw tightens and he stares at you. He wants to take you and claim you. To show you were his, and only his. But he didn’t want to keep you. Why would he? “Good.” Rafe walks around the bed and stands in front of you. He reaches out, grabbing your chin and forcing it up. “And look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You nod, looking up at him, mascara still smeared on your under eyes. 

Rafe studies your face. God, you always looked so beautiful like this. Broken and upset. The sight had him wanting to take and claim you all over again. But the look of submission in your eyes makes him want to push you even more. “You look pretty like this.” He murmurs, pushing your neck to the side and looking at the hickeys on your neck. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.” You say, although you don’t like it. You didn’t like this version of you, the pathetic girl who would do anything and everything for one iota of his attention; but it got him into your arms, so that’s really all that matters.

“I wonder why that is? Why you look so pretty when you’re crying?” His fingers lightly trace over your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine. He knows that it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. You were addicted to him, craving his attention more than you craved anything else. You’d take whatever he gave you. That was the only thing Rafe loved about you.

“Because my lips get all pouty, and my eyes get all red?” You guess, resisting the urge to lean into his palm.

Rafe almost laughs at your answer. It was cute. “Hmm,” He runs his thumb over your bottom lip, gently brushing them. “Yeah, probably.” His eyes meet yours, staring at your face. You were so easy to break. So easy to control. You’d let him do whatever he wanted, no fight or protest. Just endless submission. It was addicting.

You’re getting restless. “Have any plans today?”

Rafe’s hand falls from your face, and his jaw tightens. You always did this. You always try to make small talk, try to create some type of emotional connection between you, even though you knew deep down that he didn't give a shit about you or about your day. “Yeah. I do.” He picks his jacket up from the bed. “Have to go visit my dad's lawyer. Then I’m meeting some friends.”

“That sounds fun,” You say, although meeting with Ward’s lawyer must have something to do with life insurance. “Uh, being with your friends later, I mean.”

“Yeah.” He mutters, shrugging his jacket on. He grabs his keys from the bedside table and glances at you. It’s hard, watching you try to connect to him. He knows that you want more than this. You want to be his girlfriend. You want the world to know you’re his. 

But that couldn’t happen. And you knew that.

“Are you, um…” You shift on the bed, the duvet falling just a little bit. “Are you gonna come back over tonight?”

Rafe glances at you, eyes falling to the duvet. God, he loved how you were always trying to keep him around. He loved watching you try and fail to keep his attention. He lets out a deep breath, running a hand over his buzzed head. “Do you want me to?” He already knows your answer.

“Only if you want to,” You say, trying to not come across as even clingier than you already are. “You know my door’s always open for you.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. You were always so predictable. So needy. So willing. He starts to wonder when he'll get sick of it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He grunts, picking his phone up off of the bedside table and shoving it in his pocket. “I don’t know yet. Might be with Sofia tonight.”

Your soft smile drops, just for a second, and you hope Rafe doesn’t notice.

Sofia.

Sofia?

Who the hell is Sofia?

You knew everyone he hung out with. Every girl. You had tabs on all of them, shamefully. You didn’t know who the hell Sofia was. Had you missed someone? How had she managed to slip through the cracks?

Under the covers, you dig your nails into your thigh. You had to act casual, as normal as you could be. You were always treading thin ice with him, and you couldn’t risk losing him over this. Your smile returns and you give him a nod. “Cool. Just text me.”

Rafe watches as your smile falters for a moment. He knows it. He knows that you’re jealous. There was no way that you weren't. It didn’t take much to make you jealous. He could make one passing comment about a girl, and you’d spend the rest of the day worrying, wondering who she was. That's why he brought up Sofia, and why he always mentions his other girls to you. Something about the idea of you laying in bed, terrified and anxious to lose him, really excited him.

He smirks as you quickly regain composure, knowing that he got to you. “Yeah. I’ll text you.” He says, turning to leave.

“Drive safe.” You say.

He stops as he stands in the doorway. Something about you telling him to drive safe always made him… feel guilty. It was that damn softness you always had and used against him. He glances at you over his shoulder, swallowing whatever sentiment he was feeling. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You hate Sofia.

After a bit of sleuthing, logged into one of your many burner accounts, you finally find her. She’s a Pogue, like you, and for some reason you find that it stings more. She’s gorgeous, absolutely beautiful, the sweetest girl around, and you fucking hate her.

Rafe had a roster. A rotation, the same few girls on repeat until he got bored, where he would swap a few out for fresh meat. You don’t know how you managed to stay on the roster for this long, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe Rafe thought you had another guy out there, filling your cunt and your bed when he was gone, but you didn’t. You’re too busy being Rafe’s to fall for somebody new.

You used to not care about the other girls. The more and more he mentioned them, though, you got curious. You started looking them up on Instagram, stalking their profile through burners and analysing every post. Every story. None of the girls ever looked like you. None of the girls were like you at all. Why did he like them, and why did he like you?

You wonder if he treats the other girls as poorly, or if in some twisted way, you’re special. You could handle being the only girl that Rafe treated like shit if that meant you stood out to him in some way. You wonder if he fills their necks with hickies, too, if he grips their hips too hard and leaves bruises, if he spanks them until his handprints form welts on your ass cheeks.

You hoped to God you were special.

You tried to distract yourself, running errands and tidying your apartment, but you kept thinking about him. About his stupid baby blue eyes, and his stupid pretty face, and his stupid hands and the way they felt around your neck. You didn’t want to be in love with Rafe fucking Cameron, but you feared you were already in too deep, and soon you would drown, falling below the surface, hand outstretched, hoping just this once that he would pull you up.

You sit on your bed, in the dark and the silence, staring at your phone, waiting for it to light up. Waiting for him to text you, to need you.

The hours pass. Midnight. One and two. Three. Before four o'clock rolls around, you still have nothing. You know that you should just give up and go to bed. He probably passed out at his friends’ place, too drunk and too tired to text you, but you keep telling yourself that he's just busy. That he's gonna wake up any moment now and shoot you a text. 

You're praying that something happens, that something keeps you up and keeps you waiting for those messages that you know he most likely won't send. You want him to finally fucking want you in the way that you want him. You didn’t like feeling this way, it wasn’t fun to constantly torture yourself, but is it not fun to feel many other ways? If it wasn’t Rafe, it would just be someone else. Another man, someone else’s son, reminding you that no matter how hard you try, you just aren’t meant to be loved.

Why don’t you do it for him? Why aren’t you enough to get him to stay?

You tap the screen, and it lights up. No new notifications.

“Shit.” You mumble, your hand retreating to your side.

You sigh and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Of course, he isn’t going to text you. Why would he? Why would he do that to you, when he never had before? This is exactly what you expected. This is exactly what he loves. Making you doubt, getting you jealous. It gets him off. It’s a game for him. You were his prey, and he was your predator. 

As you lay, staring at your ceiling, you hear three, quick knocks on your door.

At first, you think you’ve imagined them. You sit up, your feet sliding into your slippers as you pad into the living room. You stand there in silence, in the dark, only listening to your own breathing. You’re about to turn around when there’s another knock, this time loud and pounding against your door.

You cross the rest of the room, undoing the locks and opening the door.

Standing on your doorstep, of course, was Rafe, hands in his pockets as he stares you down. He seems… tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, probably from staying out late. He glances at you from behind those tired eyes, his gaze falling over your body. He’s taking note of the oversized t shirt you’re wearing, and how your hair is dishevelled and messier than it was before. He could tell you had been lying down. “Can I come in?”

Something's off, you can tell. He’s acting different, even though it’s just subtly. You watch him as he chews on his lip, an anxious habit he didn’t think you noticed. “What’s wrong?”

Rafe’s expression falters for a split second, before he quickly regains his composure. He was fine. Nothing was wrong. Except for the fact that you asked him that. He looks over you. “Nothing,” He responds, his voice harsh and biting. “I just wanted to see you. That’s all.”

You don’t believe him. He normally carries himself with intense confidence and gravitas, so much so it constantly inks into your lungs and chokes you, but this was different. He felt different. “Right.”

He swallows hard, shifting on his feet. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way you were looking at him. Concerned, like you cared. He glances away from you, sighing. “Can I come in?” He repeats his question, eyes flicking between you and your living room.

You nod, stepping aside and holding the door opening, flicking a light switch. One of your lamps turns on, casting a warm, soft glow over your living room.

Rafe strides into your apartment, immediately heading for your couch. Everything in your place was so damn cozy; the warm light, the soft couch, your scent lingering on every single inch of every single surface. He collapses back onto the couch, arms spread out and legs splayed. He runs a hand over his face, swallowing hard.

You sit next to him, and for a while, you two sit in a comfortable silence. You look over at him, pushing some hair behind your ears. Your voice is soft when you finally speak. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Rafe closes his eyes, sighing as you speak. He didn’t want to tell you about Ward. Not when you were like this, so gentle and caring. He was exhausted, to say the least. He was dealing with so much, all at once, and he didn't know what to do. Finally, he looks at you. In this lighting, with your hair messy and your eyes concerned, you looked even more like the sweet girl he always wished you were. Sweet and caring and loving. “Today was my dad's funeral.”

Your shoulders droop, and your eyes soften. You had no idea. He had only mentioned visiting his father’s lawyer to you yesterday morning. “Shit, I’m sorry, Rafe. I’m so sorry.”

Rafe almost groans. He loved you when you were soft, when you were sweet. He loved it more than he cared to admit, but right now he hated it. He hated it when you were this caring. It made him doubt everything. He glances at you, a lump in his throat. He hated when you looked at him that way. Because he knew that no matter what he did, you would always have that warmth in your eyes when you looked at him. You would always forgive him, no matter what he did.

Part of him wishes his dad could’ve met you.

You reach out and put your hand on his shoulder, trying not to overstep. Rafe stares down at your hand, so small in comparison to his shoulder. Something about it makes his chest tighten. It seems intimate, and he feels… safe. Safe with you. Which is a feeling he hasn't felt in God knows how long. 

His hand slowly lifts, his rough fingers wrapping around your wrist. He brings your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. Your thumb brushes over his cheek gently, back and forth.

God, the feeling of you touching him, comforting him, was too much. Your touch was too gentle and warm, and he hated that he wanted it. He hated the way his chest ached at the sight of your soft, kind expression. He had so many reasons he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be letting you touch him like this, and yet there was something inside of him, a small voice in the back of his mind, constantly begging him to please let you take care of him. “Can I ask you something?”

“‘Course.” You say softly. 

Rafe glances at you, eyes flicking between your hand and your face. God, he hated this. Your touch on his face, the tenderness in your voice, the look in your eyes. It was driving him absolutely insane. His eyes close, as if he was debating if he actually wanted to ask you this. “Am I poison? Am I poison in the water?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

He opens his eyes again, hand still holding yours to his cheek. He holds your gaze, eyes softening. He hated how vulnerable he was, and yet there was a small piece of him, buried deep inside, that needed it. He could tell you anything right now, and you wouldn't judge him. You would just listen. Care. “Do I… poison everything I touch? Am I the poison that kills everything?”

“No, of course not,” You move closer to him on the couch. “Why would you ask that?”

God, he could smell you, your perfume a subtle, sweet scent that was driving him crazy. He closes his eyes as you move closer, and his jaw tightens. This was insane; he wasn't weak, he wasn't vulnerable, he did not need you. But then again, the hand on yours on his face had yet to move. “Because,” his voice drops to a whisper. “I know that I'm a sick, twisted bastard. I know that I make others sick. I hurt everyone I care about.”

“Rafe, I will admit you aren’t exactly the nicest guy,” You swallow roughly, unsure of what to even say. “But you still have people that care about you. Your friends, your sisters. They know the real Rafe, the guy underneath all the aggression.”

He lets out a long, shaky breath. God, he hated this. He hated being vulnerable. He hated opening up to you, and seeing that look of concern in your eyes. He wants to run, to close you out, leave and forget this ever happened. He wants to go back to treating you like one of his conquests, instead of feeling like he wanted you to hold him. But for some reason, his mouth wasn't listening to his brain. “But what about you?”

“Of course, I care about you,” You say. “I thought that would at least be obvious.”

He had a thousand different replies on the tip of his tongue, but instead his mouth just opened and closed, words dying when they left his lips. Everything in his mind was screaming at him to get up and leave, but there was a deeper part of him, a small piece of himself that he kept buried inside, deep in the back of his mind, that kept whispering, telling him to sit. It was the part that kept his hand on your wrist. He swallows hard, looking away. “I wish my dad was still here.”

“I know,” You say softly. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his eyes begin to sting, something that only added to his frustration. Frustration at himself, for being pathetic enough to cry. Frustration at you, for making him weak enough to cry. Frustration at Ward, for leaving him and his sisters behind. He suddenly hated everything. He hated you. He hated himself. He hated Ward for leaving him with feelings, making him weak. “I don't even know why I came here,” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I just... I wish I could've been good enough for him. I tried to be good.”

“You don’t know how Ward truly felt about you, Rafe.” You say, stroking his cheekbone again.

He hated the way you were comforting him, hated the way you were so gentle with him. He was always on the defensive, on the attack, so when someone was soft with him... Well, the way his chest ached was proof that it was something he wasn't used to. He swallows hard, closing his eyes. “But I do. His actions spoke louder than his damn words ever did,” He chuckles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's so stupid, you know, I... I used to pray I’d be like him, do everything that he did. And sometimes I still do.”

“That’s not stupid.” You say.

He lets his hand fall from your wrist, shaking his head. He hated talking about this, he hated admitting how much Ward’s death has messed him up. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to open up to anybody. The words leaving his lips, however, were not his own. “I hate that I don’t know if he was proud of me... I hate that I’ll never know if I did right by him.”

You remove your hand when he goes to cover his face. You watch him for a few moments, unsure of what to do, when you notice his shoulders shake. 

Is he crying?

Your eyes widen when you hear a sob rip through him, shoulders shaking up and down. “Hey, hey, Rafe, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

He hated crying, absolutely hated it, but there he was, shoulders trembling, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried. “I’m not even- I…” His voice breaks, chest rattling. He lets out a long, shaky breath, shaking his head as he wipes away the tears from his cheeks. He couldn’t even look at you. He hated feeling so weak. Hated that you were seeing this side of him.

“It’s okay,” You put your arm around him, trying to hug him. “It’s okay--”

Rafe suddenly stands, pushing you back. “No. Don’t… don’t fucking pretend like you care.” He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, ashamed that he let Ward affect him this much. He was supposed to be strong. Powerful. Not weak.

“I’m not pretending.” You say, standing up.

His jaw tightens, his expression hardening into a sharp glare. God, he was tired of you, of your sweet words, of your gentle smiles. It was messing with his head, playing with his feelings. “Yeah, right.” He mutters, shaking his head. “You don’t care, don’t bullshit me.”

“Of course I care about you, Rafe,” You say, taking a step closer to him. “I… I lov--”

“No!” He suddenly snaps at you. He didn't want to hear that. He couldn't. “Don’t… don’t you dare,” You stare at him, confusion on your pretty little face, and it’s driving him fucking crazy. “Don’t. Don’t tell me. Keep that shit to yourself.”

You don’t know what to say, and you don’t want to upset him even more. You just nod, taking a step back.

He wanted to hit something. He wanted to break something. He hated the sight of that look on your face. The confusion, the worry, the disappointment. He didn’t understand. Why did you care? He didn’t deserve it, not one bit. What the hell did you think you’d get out of loving someone like him? That he’d love you back? That he’d change for you?

The silence is deafening. You want to say something, you just don’t know what. You take a shaky breath. “I’m here for you, Rafe. You know that. In any way you need me.”

“Why?” He asks suddenly, eyes meeting yours. “Why are you still here for me? Why do you care about me so goddamn much? Why can’t you just give up on me, like everyone else has?”

“Do I look like everyone else?” You ask.

Oh, but that was the problem. You were different. You were the only person in that damn town who was as sweet as you were patient. Who cared so god-damn much about someone so undeserving of that love. “Don’t you think I know that?” He asks, voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you think it pisses me off that you are the way you are?”

“I just want you to be happy, Rafe, and if I can make you happy, I want to.” You say.

Why did you have to be so goddamn sweet? It was driving him mad, the way you stood there, so willing and eager to do whatever it took to help him. He let out a long, shaky breath, staring down at you. “It was different when you were just some girl I was hooking up with.” He says, shaking his head.

“I’m still that girl,” You insist. “Nothing has to change. We can go back to normal. Forget this ever happened.”

His eyes narrow as you speak. He hated that you said that, hated how willing you were to forget the fact that he cried in front of you, and yet he hated himself for the fact that he almost wanted to agree. “Really?” He asks, his voice sharp. “You’d just… forget this? Go back to letting me use you, like nothing happened?”

“If that’s what you want.” You say.

He hated the idea of that. The idea of going back to using you. Of treating you like trash when he knew that you cared so damn much. 

Part of him liked hurting you, like watching you fall apart at his hands. But it was the other side of him that hated how good it felt at first, hated the pit of shame in his chest that grew each time you begged him to stay, or cried while he left, or looked at him like he meant the world to you.

Part of him knew you deserved better.

Rafe sighs, looking away. “Fine. We forget about this.”

“Okay.” You say, nodding.

The fact that you didn't say anything, that you didn't fight back, made his chest ache. God, he hated this. He wanted to yell at you. Wanted to push you down, pin you to the couch, and make you cry out his name. He wanted you to ask him to stay, fight him to prove to him that you cared. He hated how your willingness to forget it all made him want to wrap his arms around you. He couldn't stay. He would do something risky, something that he would regret in the morning. He sniffles, wiping his eyes again. “I'm gonna go.”

You swallow thickly. “If you’re sure. My door is always open.”

“Yeah,” He replies, his voice hoarse. He hated that your gentleness, your sweetness, still managed to get to him. He steps closer to you. He wanted to touch you again. To feel your warm, soft skin against his palm. But he knew better. He knew that if he touched you, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Thanks for being there.” He mumbles, his voice cracking.

“Of course.” You smile softly.

He hates how your smile makes his chest ache, hates the tug it gives his heart. He hated how he cared about you, hated how he was so weak that he allowed himself to open up to you. And God, he hated how he was thinking about kissing your pretty, pouty lips. “I'll be back tomorrow night. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Rafe nods, licking his lips. He rocks back and forth on his feet before reaching out and cupping the back of your head, pressing his lips to your forehead. Enough to keep you hooked. “See you later, sweetheart.”

Your entire body is buzzing. “Drive safe.”

You’re still standing in the same spot when he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

And you will wait for the next time he wants you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

blagh

★taglist: @ietss, @teenwolfbitches28, @gilwm, @momoewn, @drewsphswife, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @evermorx89, @ivy-34, @ts1mp0ne, @drewstarkeysstuff, @kayreblogs, @rafeycameronsgf, @lulbabes, @xomarryamox, @montanajgbn, @koalalafications, @stylestarkey, @loves0phelia, @lhhlver, @katecokeed, @cwufst, @user381953, @wintergirlysstuff, @emberaurora, @wtfisastiles, @bluejeepgirl11, @artistadistrada2002, @fastlovela, @lucifersie, @marlenee3e, @koibleufish, @ashleyyy323, @rafesdoll, @dasia21, @blairsblg (italics means i couldn't tag you!)

join my obx taglist here!

[spicyspiders]

Professor Howlett

logan howlett x male reader smut

3.7k words

cw: power imbalance (logan is the reader's professor), age difference, rimming, virginity kink, thigh fucking, size kink, and spit as lube.

“This is utterly disappointing,” Professor Howlett tosses your paper down onto his desk with a thwap. The sound makes you jump, but you quickly steel yourself before he can look up and see how your calm expression is beginning to break.

You have to clear your throat before responding, though it does little to stop the lump you feel forming in your throat, ”I tried my best, professor,” you respond, keeping your eyes locked on the paper littered with red pen marks.

“Did you?” Professor Howlett questions angrily, making you jump once more at the tone, “because this sure as hell doesn’t read like it!”

“Professor, I-” you try to explain, but he cuts you off. 

“The first paper you wrote got the highest grade in the class, and then you go on to write this?” He asks, waving the red pen he used to mark up your paper angrily in the air as he speaks. If you weren’t biting your lip hard enough that at any second you thought it would bleed, you would laugh at the display. 

He looked at you expectantly, and with how angry he looked, you didn’t think any explanation that you could give would be enough. You had to try and do so anyway, knowing the sooner you spoke, the sooner you could leave his office and contemplate dropping his class or dropping out of college in general. 

You suck in a shaky breath before you respond, “I’m sorry, professor,” and when his angry expression doesn’t falter, you continue, “I knew I didn’t give myself enough time and knew I just had to take the hit to my grade and do better on the next paper.”

The man in front of you lets out a bitter laugh, “so you waste my time?”

“That wasn’t my intention, sir,” you respond, slouching down into the chair, trying to make yourself look as small as possible. You look up at the man across from you after a few moments of awkward silence, meeting his eyes as you try to calm your racing heart. 

He lets out a long sigh before he speaks again, “I must have set my expectations for the rest of your assignments too high,” he passes the paper across the desk until it sets in front of you, “I apologize.”

You can feel anger welling up in your body at his words. It was one bad assignment, it’s not like you were now some lost cause. “I can still write a paper just as good as the first one,” you snap before snatching the paper off the desk. “I told you,” you huff, angrily unzipping your book backpack to put the paper inside, “I didn’t give myself enough time, which won’t happen again,” you stand up in a flash, the chair shooting out from behind you fast enough you’re surprised it didn’t tip over, “I apologize, professor.”

“Hey hey hey,” Logan says, racing around the desk to grab your shoulder. He turns you around slowly from where you were about to stop out of his office and slam the door behind you, “I don’t want this to impact your grade.”

”It already is,” you spit, not angry at him, but angry at yourself. You remember getting the notification this morning that your professor had posted the grade, the number immediately turning your mood sour. 

“It’s okay,” Professor Howlett says, running a soothing hand down your shoulder, “I’ll give you a week to rewrite the paper and give you full credit back.”

“I’m not rewriting the paper,” you say with a bitter laugh that sounds a lot like Professor Howlett’s did earlier. 

“I know you can do better than this,” Professor Howlett responds, crossing his arms along his broad chest. 

“As you’ve already said,” you say, rolling your eyes, “I’m not writing an extra paper,” too tired to even think after you stayed up all night bullshitting the paper you had turned into Professor Howlett, you put the decision in his hands: “so what do you want to do, professor?” You ask tiredly.

You stare into Professor Howlett’s eyes, waiting for the man to make his decision. He looks back at you, observing you closely with his dark eyes. You are on the edge of feeling uncomfortable by the time he’s made up his mind, a look that you’re unable to pinpoint settling over his face. 

“Take off your bag and put it in the chair,” he commands, the lone tone of his voice making you shiver. 

“Okay,” you respond shakily, now back in front of him with your bag resting in the chair, “now wh-”

Your back collides with the door, and then a second later, his lips collide with yours. You gasp in surprise against his mouth and feel his tongue enter the opening, the appendage sliding wetly against yours. 

Too caught off guard to respond to the kiss, Logan moans against your unresponsive lips, one of his hands going to your chin to angle your head so his tongue can move deeper. His other hand you can hear beside you fiddling with the lock, and when the knob finally clicks, you can barely hear it over the sound of Professor Howlett’s breathing after he pulls away from the kiss. 

“Professor-” you begin, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, your mind too confused on whether you should push him away or pull him closer. You’ve already crossed the line you never thought you would cross. Sure, you had your fantasies dating back to the first day you walked into class, but you thought those would just stay in your head, only coming out in breaths of the professor’s name when your mind would wonder when you touched yourself.

“Logan.”

“Logan,” you correct yourself, trying to bite back a moan when Professor- Logan pushes his thigh between your legs, “I don’t think-”

He cuts you off with yet another kiss, but this time, you crane your neck to pull away from the kiss, trying your hardest to ignore the weight of your cock chubbing up in your pants. 

The second kiss ending abruptly does nothing to discourage Logan, instead, it gives his lips a new area to map out. “You drive me insane,” Logan moans against the column of your neck, his stubble digging into the sensitive skin. “So smart,” he says kissing down until he reaches the collar of your shirt, “so beautiful,” he whispers, moving to press his forehead to yours, “yet you barely talk in class,” he says, pressing his lips to yours once more, but this one much softer than the last. 

There wasn’t a participation grade outlined in the syllabus for Logan’s class like it was for some of your other professors, meaning you weren’t going to talk if you didn’t have to. Sometimes you did, feeling bad when he would ask a question and no one would respond immediately, hating the awkward silence. And now that you think about it, those were usually the nights your mind would think of him while your fingers were wrapped around your cock. Good job or good answer Logan would say, the praise lighting a coil of pleasure deep in your belly. 

“It’s only for me to see, is it?” Logan asks, his hands moving to hold your hips possessively, “only I get to see how smart you are,” he says in a low, gravelly voice, seemingly answering his own question. His lips go to the racing pulse point on the side of your neck, his teeth sinking into the skin. 

The bite burns, making your mouth fall open with a whimper, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure. Logan’s hot tongue runs over the mark, trying to soothe the pain with warmth. You give way to the feeling, letting your head fall back onto the wooden door, giving Logan more room to work. 

You bury a hand in his dark hair, running your fingers through the dark locks. Logan pulls away at the feel of your fingers in his hair, his eyes now darker than they once were, his pupils dilated in lust. You stare at each other once more before, taking in Logan’s already disheveled appearance with his dark eyes, messy hair, and crooked tie.       

You respond to the next kiss Logan initiates. It’s softer than you expect, at least, it is at the start. It begins to heat up when you tighten the hand in Logan’s hair to change the angle. You both moan when your tongues meet once more, spit mixing together. 

Logan wraps an arm around your lower back so you can stumble your way to the couch that sits against one of the walls of his office. Your lips break for air when you feel the back of your legs meet the cushions, your chest heaving as you suck in lungfuls of air.

Logan pushes you down onto the couch before one of his hands yanks at his tie, pulling it through the neckline of his sweater, and then he throws the garment away as if it has offended him.  Next comes the black sweater, leaving him with dark slacks and a button-up shirt. 

You feel your cock throb in your pants as you watch Logan lower himself onto his knees. He pushes his way between your legs, his hands going to your hips to get your pants down in a pool between your ankles. 

Your breath comes out in a stutter when Logan leans down, his nose coming into contact with the bulge in your underwear. He runs his nose along the length of your cock, then his tongue runs along the same path, paying extra attention to the wet spot on the cloth that rests over the head of your cock.

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moan when Logan gets your underwear out of the way and swallows your cock. Logan takes it deep enough for you to feel, the hot, wet, constriction of his throat, his hand finding balance on your thighs. 

Logan’s breath puffs wetly against the head of your cock when he pulls away, his spit hardly having the chance to cool and dry as Logan runs his tongue up the length of your cock. He doesn’t take it as deep when he sucks it back inside his mouth, instead, he focuses on the suction. The hot suction of his mouth pulls a glob of precum from the head of your cock onto Logan’s tongue, the older man groaning at the taste.

The vibration through your cock makes your hips jump, sending your cock back deep into Logan’s throat. The movement catches Logan off guard, causing the man to gag around your cock, his throat convulsing wetly around the hard length of your cock. 

You pull the hand over your mouth and put it into Logan’s hair, trying to run your fingers through the strands soothingly. “Sorry,” you gasp, swiping your thumb under Logan’s eyes to wipe away the tears that fell. 

Logan surges up to pull you into a wet, messy kiss. His tongue is immediately in your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“M’sorry,” you repeat. 

Logan chuckles softly, “it’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses on your cheeks.

Your stomach tightens at the pet name, affection coursing through your body. You place your hands on Logan’s belt buckle, already knowing how much you’re going to struggle trying to get his pants undone and out of the way. 

It takes you longer than you want to get his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, and Logan doesn’t make it any easier when he presses, chaste, soft kisses to your mouth. Once open, Logan stands to get his pants down and off, the large bulge of his cock trapped behind his underwear. 

Just the sight of the bulge has you feeling intimidated, while at the same time making your mouth water. Anticipation joins the mix of lust and intimidation in your gut, which all combine into a feeling of pleasure that has your cock throbbing in the air. 

You place your hands on his waistband, Logan’s hands coming to rest atop yours a second later. With Logan’s help, you push his underwear down slowly, watching second by second as his cock is revealed to you.   

Your fantasies did not measure the actual size of his cock in all of its long and thick glory. It hangs heavy in front of your face, a bead of precum already glistening at the tip. Past the length of Logan’s cock, his balls hang heavy and full. This up close, you can also smell his musk: heady and all Logan.

A broad palm cupping your cheek draws your attention away, turning it instead to Logan’s face. A wave of heat washes over your body when you realize that in the moments where you were taking in the appearance of Logan’s cock, the man had pulled the rest of his clothes off. The button-up now lays in the pile with the rest of his clothes, giving you a full view of his broad, muscular chest. 

“I’ve never seen you so distracted,” Logan says with a smirk, his thumb running along your cheekbone. 

“What?” You question back, your voice breathy. 

Logan’s smirk broadens into a full smile, “I asked if you wanted to take that off.”

At a loss for words, you can barely think of a response, “oh,” you decide. 

Logan chuckles softly, his other hand running along the slit of his cock. When he pulls it away, a strand of precum follows the pad of his finger. Logan pushes his finger past your lips, still open in the shape of the soft oh you just let out. 

You suck at his finger when it touches your tongue, the salty taste lighting up your tastebuds. You hear Logan groan when you suck harder, wanting to get to the flavor underneath and see what Logan himself tastes like. 

Logan’s finger comes free with a slick pop, “let’s get the rest of this off,” he says. 

You only had your shirt and shoes to get off, and what should have been an easy, less than a minute process, felt like a lifetime. Logan tenderly pulled your shoes and socks off, one and then the other. Your shirt was next, coming off slowly with two broad palms sneaking up your shirt. Logan’s lips followed the path his hands made, all the way up to your lips that he kissed after your shirt was tossed away. 

Logan got back into the familiar position he was just in, but instead of sucking your cock, his mouth went lower. He bit into the meat of your thighs, and though you couldn’t see the one on your neck, you were sure that it matched the new ones he was making. 

“Roll over,” Logan commands, pressing a kiss to the mark he just made on your left thigh. Logan maneuvers your body into the position he wants, leaving your body pressed to the front of the couch, and your feet hanging over the cushions in front of Logan.

You press your forehead into the wall in front of you, feeling the puffs of Logan’s breath along your back, “do you have lube?” He asks in a low voice, his lips running across your skin. 

“No,” you reply, your body tense as you try not to shake in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” Logan breathes, his head coming to rest against your shoulder, “that’s okay,” he says, and you feel your body relax, “I can get you wet enough,” With how big his cock was, you doubt it, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

Logan’s first step to getting you to be what he says is wet enough is with his tongue. He starts with soft swipes of his tongue, letting you get accustomed to it. It wasn’t like it was hard, especially with the combination of the rough stubble on his face, which only added to the pleasure. 

The next step is spit, which, really you could say goes with the first. You already feel as if there’s enough of it already there from Logan’s tongue, a large extent due to when Logan kept pushing his tongue as far as it could go. It left you clenching down on the wet muscle, clawing your fingers into the couch as it massaged your walls. 

Logan didn’t let up and moved to spit a glob of spit onto your hole when it relaxed after pulling his tongue free. Caught off guard, you jerked forward, your cock coming into contact with the cushion of the couch. The friction had you gritting your teeth trying to stay quiet, hoping that because it was nearly five in the afternoon on Friday, most of the people in the building were already gone. 

Logan was quick to press the spit into your hole with a thick finger, all the way down until you were clenching down on all of it. “There we go,” Logan whispers from behind you, the wet heat of his breath on your shoulder. 

You turn your neck to face him, gasping into the kiss he presses to your lips. Logan swallows the moan that’s punched from your chest when his finger finds your prostate, the older man groaning as you clench down on his finger. 

Logan pulls away from the kiss at the same time his finger is pulled free. You feel the couch shift as Logan moves, the man making his way back down face-to-face with your hole. You’re proud of yourself for not jumping as hard when Logan spits on your hole a second time, the glob going deeper than the first after opening your hole just with one finger.    

“Does it burn, baby?” Logan asks, now that he’s using two fingers to chase after the spit instead of one.

”A little,” you whine around the burn as he scissors them apart. Almost like Logan can read your mind, he brushes his fingers along your prostate when the burn feels like it’s becoming too much. You feel precum leak from your cock, staining the upholstery. 

”That’s normal for your first time,” Logan says, pressing kisses along the shell of your ear. 

��I’ve done this before,” you respond, pushing back into Logan’s fingers. 

”Someone’s fucked you?” Logan asks, his arm coming to wrap around your stomach, right above your hard cock.

”Just my fingers,” you respond quietly. 

“How many?” Logan asks, his fingers coming to a stop. 

“Four,” you grit out, clenching down on his fingers like you’re wordlessly trying to get him to continue. 

Logan lets out a dark chuckle. He lays his hand on top of yours, his big hand bigger than your own. He stretches his fingers out, showing you how they compare in size. “That’s nearly your whole fist,” he says, his fingers starting to move again. 

“Need more,” you whine, clenching down on his fingers. 

“Shh,” Logan coos, “I know,” he lets out a warm breath at the back of your neck, “I can’t fuck you,” he says, pulling his fingers free slowly, “not like this.”

”Please,” you whine, louder than the one before. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he responds, pressing soft kisses to the back of your neck. You feel his weight on the couch shift once more as he spreads your thighs apart. It’s a tight squeeze trying to fit the both of you on the couch, but Logan makes it work. 

He pushes his cock between your thighs, right below your balls, already tight against your cock. He grips your hips tightly before he begins thrusting, only taking a few jerks of his hips before you push your thighs together around his cock. 

The sound of Logan’s groan behind you travels from his chest to your back, letting you feel how good you’re making him feel. ”Does that mean I was the first?” He asks, one of his hands moving to wrap around your cock. 

“What?” You asked, confused, your mind cloudy from the pleasure. 

“Am I the first to touch you like this?” Logan questions, his voice a low growl. His fingers are slick around your cock, gliding along the length. 

You nod quickly, too close to the edge and overtaken with pleasure to even say a single word. You cum to the feel of Logan’s hand around your cock, his teeth biting possessively into the skin of your shoulder, and his cock nudging your balls. Ropes of cum shoot from your cock, staining the couch in his office. You probably won’t be able to look at couches ever the same again. 

Logan’s hand shoots up to your mouth, covering your lips as you moan, overtaken by the pleasure of your orgasm. You rest against his palm, falling forward while at the same time tightening the slick valley of your thighs.

Logan muffles his moan in the crook of your sweaty neck when he cums. It nearly burns, making a bigger mess in your thighs and on the couch. 

In a blur, Logan gets you onto his chest, his back now resting on the couch, “you okay?” He questions, his hand running softly along the sweaty expanse of your back. 

“I don’t think I can move,” you respond, still riding the high of probably one of the best orgasms you’ve had. 

Logan laughs loud enough that your head shakes against his chest. Moments later, when you’re nearly lulled to sleep by the ticking of the clock in his office, Logan speaks, “I’m sorry for getting so frustrated with you,” he says softly. 

“What do you mean?” You question, craning your head to look up at the man.

“I see how smart you are,” he answers, his voice a low rumble, “it made me frustrated to see you not working up to your potential.”

“I said I was sorry,” you immediately respond, not sure if you should pout or roll your eyes.   

“I know, baby,” he says with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “I know,” he leans down to press your lips together softly, “I just wanted to explain myself.”

This time you did roll your eyes, too fucked-out to try and control your expression, “I’ll write a better paper next time,” you grumble, moving to lay your head down once more over his chest.  

[thewertsearch]

GT: Well ive thought about it. GT: Even went downstairs to check the great vaulty doodad. GT: And predictably the infernal contraption is nowhere to be found. TT: Well yeah, Jake. TT: That's sort of the point. TT: Thrill of the hunt and all.

Ok, I think I get what's going on here.

Jake's Dreambot is probably the last remaining source of uranium on the entire island, and the AR is turning its retrieval into a game of hide-and-seek.

I'm not sure why Jake hadn't already retrieved this particular chunk of uranium, especially since he has no use for the robot himself. Maybe he was keeping it operational for sentimental reasons?

TT: I thought you liked to manicure the image of a dude who shits his pants over a good adventure. […] GT: I mean i wouldnt put it in a way like that or come out against a solid policy of clean trousers. But yes adventure is awesome. GT: I just prefer the idea of adventures which i can actually win.

Jake's picturing a LIVING GRANDSON SMACKDOWN - and, frankly, so am I. That robot's being piloted by an absurdly advanced AI, and I'm pretty sure Jake doesn't have any combat experience.

Winning, in this case, is shorthand for 'waiting for the AR to take pity on you'.

TT: It seems there is a 76.10395784% chance you are pussying out on me. Are you pussying out on me, Jake?

Now, to be fair, that one would only work if Jake had agreed to this challenge beforehand. After all, you can't pussy out of something you never pussied into.

GT: It seems it seems it seems!!! GT: It seems there is a million percent chance that you say it seems way too much and do it just to sound more like a lame robot from a movie and also probably just to piss me off! […] TT: Have you ever stopped to think that while I may be bound to processes inside the glasses of a real and incredibly cool guy, my algorithms in cognitive totality comprise a conscious entity not far short of the experiential and emotional complexity of a human being? GT: Oh malarkey. GT: YOU ARE A TIN CAN. ROBOTS DONT HAVE FEELINGS.

Jake, it's been sixty seconds since you complained about him pretending not to have feelings.

TT: I do have feelings. And you're shitting on them. TT: It sucks. GT: Oh. GT: Um. GT: Im sorry then if thats the case.

Well, that's something, at least - but I don't think Jake really understands why the AR is offended, so I'm worried it's just going to happen again in their next argument.

How long has the Responder existed for, anyway? Jake seems familiar with his schtick, so he's probably not brand-new - but at the same time, Jake's surprised apology makes it sound like the AR has only recently started to express feelings.

Maybe the AR has existed for years, but hasn't been sentient for years. Like, it really did just start as a primitive response script, but Bro kept uploading more of his personality onto it, until it slowly began to think and feel. Fascinating idea, I have to say.

GT: It can just be difficult to drum up sympathy for a program that presents itself as an impostor so often. GT: Maybe if you werent so ready to insist you were the genuine article all the time? Or didnt make it so confusing for me… GT: I think it would be best if we henceforth treated you as a totally distinct… uh… THING from my buddy.

Hey, it's not like the AR can stop imitating Bro. Even if he wanted to have his own identity, he's currently bound to the response script of someone else's Pesterchum account. When he talks, he's forced to do it through Bro's handle.

All evidence points to the Responder being a thinking, feeling being with his own inner world - which makes it a little ethically dubious to force him to be Bro's secretary. The guy shouldn't be treated as a bargain-bin Bro, the same way that Davesprite wasn't a backup Dave. We all saw how that ended, and it sure wasn't pretty.

[bobodemais]

Gently tosses Gunner fanart because ISTG he might have me in a chokehold... [He does, plz help, I can't breathe]

Sorry if it doesn't look good, might've just been the autism-

(I MADE THIS SO LONG AGO BUT I WAS SO ANXIOUS TO SEND IT... I STILL AM-)

((might regret this UvU))

"These hair follicles on my arms in your magnificent art made me realize that I would look beautiful with a beard. Maybe I'll stop shaving... Also, thanks for the fanart!"

☆ (Completely ignores the fact that he is in the Satan pose)

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 7

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 6.2K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: maybe some angst?? not really, it's pretty fluffy

Author's Note: hello hello!! i hope you're all well! sorry (again) for taking so long to get this out, but i think i'm as happy as i can be with this chapter. it's not perfect and i'm worried it'll be boring, but i like it, i think! well, i had fun writing it at least, and i hope you have fun reading it! it isn't super closely proofread so i'm sorry for any errors, i just wanted to get this posted today!!

TAGLIST CLOSED [follow asingledaffodil tag for all notifications]

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandyrecs @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @pastelpeachess @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309 @wobblewobble822 @praetae @yoongibaybee @weareatthebadlands

previous / masterlist / next

The alarm blaring in your ear felt foreign and your eyes were bleary as you blinked awake, vision slowly coming into focus. Momentarily, you forgot why you’d set your alarm, having gotten too used to sleeping in the past two weeks, but your senses soon came back to you. It was your first day back to the office after your extended vacation in place of a honeymoon. 

The idea of it made you laugh slightly, like there was ever a honeymoon in the cards for you, but you soon silenced when you remembered the past weekend. Yoongi and you had gone on a semi-date, which meant that you would probably end up dating, which would lead to marriage (even though you were already married), and then a real honeymoon? Your head spun, it was too early to be overthinking like this. 

You finally silenced your alarm, dragging yourself out of your warm duvet and shuffling toward your bathroom. Sleepily completing your morning routine, you got dressed for work and made your way downstairs. You usually neglected breakfast in favor of a small snack before lunch at the office and you smiled at the kitchen counter, seeing a small container of riceballs that Mrs. Lim had likely prepared for you. You could hear her puttering around in the far room, seemingly doing laundry.

You grabbed the container, slipping it into your tote bag, and began walking to the door, before startling at Yoongi’s voice coming from the top of the stairs. 

“Y/N, wait a second,” he called, making his way down the stairs, “Want to go to work together?”

Your eyebrows raised at the suggestion, not even realizing he was still at home. Home? You supposed it was your home now. You weren’t sure when you had started to refer to it that way. 

“Sure, but I usually take the bus,” you responded, watching him gather his things and approach you at the door. 

“Oh,” Yoongi responded, slightly breathless, “That’s fine. I can take it with you.”

You thought for a moment, the Min Industries building was a block or so down from your own office, so you figured it should work out. 

“Okay, then I’m ready whenever you are,” you mentioned. Yoongi nodded, slipping on his shoes, “Let’s go.”

The two of you made your way to the bus stop in a comfortable silence, enjoying the bustling scene of a morning in Seoul. When you both reached the bus stop, Yoongi spoke up, “Do you have any specific plans this week?”

You closed your eyes, racking your brain, “No, not really. But I’ll probably working a lot of overtime since I missed two weeks.”

“Oh,” Yoongi responded, “That’s unfortunate.”

You smiled, turning to face him, “I’ll find some time for us to hang out, promise.” You brushed a stray hair off his forehead, making his eyes widen and his head quickly turn away.

You giggled softly, apparently you still had it. It was kind of fun to flirt with him. 

The bus soon arrived and you entered, scanning your card and making your way down the aisle before hearing the bus driver’s stern voice ring out. 

“Sir, your transportation card?”

You turned to find Yoongi with a confused look on his face, seemingly at a loss at what the bus driver meant. The scene made you shake your head and smile, reaching over to scan your pass once again and bowing an apology to the bus driver. You grabbed Yoongi’s wrist, tugging him to one of the empty pairs of seats and gently guided him into the far one by the window. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I’ve never actually taken the bus before.” He scratched the back of his head, you could see his ears tinging red. You squeezed his wrist before letting go, “It’s alright, I’d figured as much. It’s kind of nice to have company on the morning commute.”

Yoongi sent a gummy smile your way making you exhale harshly, it felt like one of the first real smiles you’d seen of him and it was breathtaking. His hard edges and steely eyes softened, it was a sight you wanted to imprint on your mind. You distracted yourself by opening up your phone and scrolling through some recent texts, feeling Yoongi’s presence boring into your own.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Yoongi take one last glance at you before grasping your hand in his own and entangling your fingers. It caused you to look up at him but he was already turned, facing the window, fingers still tightly gripping your hand. 

You felt the heat spread on your face but you settled into it anyway, enjoying the feeling of Yoongi’s palm against your own. The rest of the ride to your stop was largely silent, with you focused on the warmth emanating from Yoongi’s hand. You felt like a teenager with a crush. You were just holding hands! What was the big deal? Yet, it still felt like one. 

The scenery caught your attention when a cafe you frequented flew by, signaling that your stop was next. Yoongi seemed caught in the view from the window so you drew his attention by tugging gently on his hand, still flush against yours. He looked over at you questioningly before you started rising out of your seat. The bus came to a slow stop and you gently pulled him to the door, scanning your card twice quickly and exiting with Yoongi close behind. 

As the two of you stood on the sidewalk, you were unsure of where to go from here. Your office would be in the opposite direction from his, so it seemed that this was where you split ways. Yoongi didn’t seem to realize this as he began walking to his office, stopping when he felt the resistance from your hand, as you stood in place. 

He turned, ears tinged pink, “Oh, right, OK is that way. I guess this is goodbye.”

You smiled, untangling your fingers from his, “See you at home, Yoongi.”

His mouth parted before breaking into a small smile, “See you.” 

You turned quickly, feeling your cheeks warm, and started walking quickly to your building. All you did was ride the bus with him, yet it felt exhilarating, what was happening to you? You were supposed to be just friends right now, you couldn’t afford to fall this quickly.

Well, you supposed that nothing was really stopping you but yourself, but you still had your principle! You had to hold steadfast, you were the one who’d asked to start as friends first after all. 

Feeling your phone buzz in your hands, you glanced down to catch Namjoon’s name in your notifications. You opened his message while navigating through the crowds on the sidewalk, fantasizing about the iced tea in the cafe in the lobby of your building. 

From: Kim Namjoon

Good morning, Y/N-ssi! I managed to get tickets to that art gallery we were talking about, I stayed up almost all night, but it was worth it! I’ll send you the details when I’m more coherent, have a good day at work!

You smiled down at your phone, sending off a quick confirmation and well wishes for his sleep schedule. As you pushed open the doors to your office building, the cafe stationed off to the right felt like a beacon in the bustling morning office rush. The barista, Junmi, greeted you warmly as you approached the register, “Hi, unnie! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, were you on vacation?”

You shot her a conspiratorial wink, “Something like that.” She rung up your order, knowing it by heart by now, and held out her hand for your card. You handed it over while your eyes raked over the bakery display next to the counter, but you knew you already had the riceballs Mrs. Lim provided. No way you can justify another purchase, even if it was for the softest looking croissant in the world. 

“Unnie,” Junmi exclaimed, startling you from your bread infused daze, “Your ring! Did you get married?”

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, I did.”

“Wow, congratulations! Here, have a croissant, on the house. That’s so exciting! You’ll have to show me pictures sometime,” she smiled, handing you back your card before turning away to prepare your drink. 

As you walked past security gate toward the gate, awkwardly scanning your badge while balancing your breakfast, you took your first bite of the warm and flaky croissant. It seems like this marriage had more perks that you’d initially given it credit for.

Sitting down at your desk was a relief after navigating your curious and energetic team. You’d fielded questions about your marriage as much as you could, but you still ended up showing them a picture of Yoongi that Joohee had sent you from the wedding. Your team had commented on how handsome he looked and how happy they were for you, and from there, the energy calmed down some, with some members returning to their seats. 

The excitement had left you feeling conflicted, staring down at the picture of Yoongi that Joohee had sent. He looked handsome, definitely, his eyes were dark and piercing and his slightly tanned skin looked soft and smooth. You hadn’t realized how pinched together his eyebrows had been during the ceremony, or how bitten his lips looked. You swiped to the next picture in your messages with Joohee, seeing yourself and Yoongi during the reception. You both looked tired and miserable, making you frown at your phone. You kind of wished that you had a nice picture of you and Yoongi to show other people. Something to show when people like Junmi asked, one that made you look like a happy couple. You knew that Yeonsik had a stupidly cute picture of himself and his boyfriend as his phone’s lockscreen, and it made your stomach clench with envy. 

Maybe you should bring it up to Yoongi?

No, it was much too soon, you shook your head, dismissing the thought. 

Turning off your phone, you logged into your computer, seeing the number of unread emails rapidly increasing. You sighed, slipping on your headphones and starting some jazz so you could focus. 

Combing through the mountain of emails was tiring, but one caught your attention, even as your eyes glazed over. 

From: limheesungmarketing1@okgaming.com

RE: Influencer Campaign MIRA’S AWAKENING

Hello Team Leader Seo,

We have decided to pursue Jeon Jeongguk (user/sns:goldenboy97) as one of the main influencers for MIRA’S AWAKENING’s campaign. We have been communicating with him about ideas for the campaign and decided upon the following:

Early access - stream upon release day

PR merchandise - we are confirming designs with Graphics 2

Vlog/tour of OK Gaming on August 25 - this will include a tour of Planning Team 1 office space. Please see attached for video appearance consent form for your team and have it submitted to me by the end of the week.

We will follow up with more information as we approach the filming date.

Thanks,

Team Leader Lim

You had to read the email twice before you fully understood the contents. Shaking your head with a smile, you forwarded the email to your team and grabbed your phone to text Jeongguk. 

To: Jeon Jeongguk

Are you invading my office for your vlog channel?

The reply came almost instantly.

From: Jeon Jeongguk

morning, noona!

you finally got the news, huh?

i’m so excited, i can’t wait to see you working!

we should get lunch or dinner together that day!!

any preferences?

don’t tell hyung though

can i get your opinion on what i should wear, i don’t really go to offices often lol

You set your phone down as the buzzing continued, trying to contain your laughter. The kid was so exciteable, but his energy was contagious. You decided to respond to him later as you heard the quiet ding of more emails coming in. A sigh escaped you, you had promised Yoongi to find time to do something with him, but taking off two weeks so close to the launch date of your project and at the tail end of beta testing had taken its toll. It was clear that you’d be working overtime for the next few weeks.

Leaning your elbows against the desk and taking your head into your hands, you rubbed circles into the sides of your head. Thinking about everything you had to do was leading to a migraine and a quick look at the clock revealed that only about an hour had passed since you’d gotten to work. You felt your body sag in defeat, hearing the pings of more emails coming in. 

Pressing your head against the cool feeling of your desk, you tried to distract your mind from the overwhelming mountain of work you had waiting for you. Naturally, your mind drifted toward the past weekend with Yoongi. You could still feel the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster weighing on your bones, but the uncertainty of what the future would look like with him felt like prinpicks against your fingers. This weekend had changed a lot for you, changes that you weren’t sure how to deal with. 

Yoongi’s new attitude was also confusing, even though you fully knew his intentions now. The shift from trying to dismiss any ambiguous actions from him and steel yourself against any romantic feelings of your own to full transparency of his feelings toward you and your obligation to externally reciprocate was difficult to adjust to. You had been playing it by ear so far, going for a risky flirt whenever you felt cheeky, but it still felt unnatural.

It was hard to put it into words, but it felt like you were uncomfortable around Yoongi. Maybe you were still upset with him for what transpired with Jimin, after all, it was not too long ago, only a couple days really. Or maybe it was for what he said at the gala, the way he had dismissed you still irked, making you bite the inside of your cheek. Or perhaps when he’d been an hour late to your meeting before you’d gotten married, showing up with mussed hair, hickeys, and the heavy scent of a woman’s perfume. 

You blew a short and aggressive breath out of your mouth, Yoongi had really been an ass. More than feeling upset with him, though, you felt more upset with yourself for caving so quickly. You supposed it wasn’t necessarily caving since you weren’t starting out as friends through your own insistence, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. Your feelings for Yoongi were annoyingly persistent and only getting stronger with his newfound feelings and confidence in them. 

Why couldn’t you be stronger?

It felt a bit pathetic. You’d thought that you were doing so well in closing yourself off from him, shielding your heart from, not only from his attractive looks and seductive gaze, but from his biting remarks and harsh glares. As it turns out, not only did you still end up feeling hurt, but you only deeper for him despite your best efforts. Were you really even preventing anything that whole time? You bit your lip, squinting to make out emails through your blurry vision. 

Were you in the palm of his hands since the beginning?

Did you ever stand a chance?

Was this relationship more unbalanced than you previously thought?

Your eyes closed in defeat, feeling your headache envelop the rest of your brain. You wished that you could level the playing field somehow.

The harsh blue undertoned light from your computer was aggravating your headache even more. To give your eyes a break, you took a look around your office space, seeing your teammates in similar condition to you. 

The past couple weeks had been grueling, finalizing the post beta testing debugs, a last minute story adjustment, a heavy debate on the use of a mechanic your team was pushing to keep after some confusion in beta testing, and wrangling the graphics team to confirm and pack the shipment of merchandise had taken a heavy toll on your team’s morale and energy. This was always the worse part of development and production.

You’d barely seen your home since your return to work, spending over twelve hours at the office, catching the last bus home, scarfing down a mediocre, store bought kimbap, and crashing on your bed or the couch, whichever one you made it to in time. 

You weren’t going to lie, you were a bit frustrated that you’d barely been able to spend any time with Yoongi in the past two weeks, but a part of you was relieved. Your emotional state still hadn’t fully recovered and you were relishing the opportunity to delay the inevitable as long as you could. Even so, waking up on the couch with a soft blanket thrown on you and your hair brushed away from your face made your heart ache. To his credit, he seemed to be an expert in tugging on your heart. 

He was understanding, at the least. Even though you barely saw him, any time you did, he wore an empathetic expression and quietly handed you a can of your favorite fruit juice from the fridge with a small smile. Yoongi hadn’t had any complaints of your constant late nights and occupied weekends, which, in your defense, had been unavoidable and continual.

Today was no different, despite it being a Friday, your team was still working late into the night. A yawn off to your right, courtesy of Song Ha, drew you out of your drowsy trance. You blinked a few times, feeling the world coming back into focus, and glanced at the time. It was approaching nine and you could feel that nothing else productive was going to happen today. Wiping your sweaty palms on your leggings, you stood, “Okay, everyone. Let’s go home for today, we’ve done all we can. I want you all to enjoy your weekend this time, so don’t check any emails. If it’s really important, I’ll call you. Go get some rest and be ready to kick ass on Monday.”

Your team stared up at you gratefully, seemingly rejuvenated. The packing up was quick and efficient, everyone more than ready to get out of the stuffy and dreary office. As you were packing up your own belongings, your phone buzzed with a message.

From: Kim Namjoon

Hi! I hope you’re doing well. I know your game is coming out soon so you must be busy, hopefully you’re getting enough rest!

Just a question about next Friday, would you like to head over to the gallery together? I can pick you up. Let me know when you can!

Oh, that’s right, the gallery that you were supposed to go to with Namjoon was coming up in a week. You had forgotten in the chaos of work, but you resigned to text him back later. Getting home was your top priority. Though, now that you were thinking about you, you had a nagging feeling that you’d forgotten something else.

You bent down in front of your desk to log out of your computer, catching a flagged email a bit further down in your inbox, referencing the filming day that was involving your team. Your fingers snapped automatically, that’s what it was! You’d totally forgotten about Jeongguk coming to film the behind the scenes and doing a segment with your team. Rapping your desk to catch your team’s attention, you quickly reminded them.

“Just a reminder, this upcoming Tuesday, we have the filming team coming in here with Jeon Jeongguk. I think all of you signed the consent form, so you can all come to work as normal, but just be prepared that they’ll be there. You’ll have a couple cameras around and they may pull you aside for some questions, but that should be about it. Have a good weekend, guys.”

A chorus of goodbyes and well wishes rang out from your team, followed by idle chatter as they made their way to the elevator. You sat back for a minute, deciding whether you should text Yoongi to say you were coming home early or not. Was this early? It was almost nine, but it was relatively early to when you had been coming home.

Whatever, you’d just go home. No point in texting when you’d be there in about twenty minutes anyway, what would texting change?

You hauled yourself to the bus stop, feeling the heaviness of the day weigh down your bones. You’d given your team the weekend off, but the same couldn’t be said for you. You knew plenty of managers in the corporate world who could leisurely take time off work and the productiveness of their team wouldn’t change, but your team was, unfortunately, not the same. Your weekend would consist of monitoring your email for anything urgent coming in and making sure other teams were on track for the upcoming release, but at least you’d get a bit of a break. It was a bit like being on call, but you didn’t want to think about it that way, it’d make the unpaid overtime a bit too real. 

The sound of the bus approaching made you jolt to attention, stopping for a moment to close your eyes and stop your head from spinning. You had forgotten to pick up dinner, but you’d make do. There must be something in the fridge, and if there wasn’t, you’d make for some emergency fried chicken delivery. 

The bus ride home was peaceful, to your extreme delight. Late Friday night bus rides ran the risks of drunk and rowdy businessmen, energetic and loud college students, and excitable high schoolers. Thankfully, the bus was quiet and serene, soon stopping near your apartment. The trek up to the building felt more taxing than usual, dragging your feet along the pavement until you reached the elevator. The cool feeling of the elevator walls against your forehead felt refreshing, at least, but you internally groaned when the doors slid open and you had to move your feet once again. 

The click of the door to the apartment unlocking felt like an angel’s voice, and you entered the apartment only to be met with five faces staring back at you. Your eyes immediately found Yoongi’s, staring at you, a bit surprised, but he sent you a smile. You returned it weakly before trailing your eyes over everyone else, finding Namjoon and Seokjin on the couch and Jeongguk and Taehyung seated on the floor around the coffee table, seemingly playing some low stakes poker. 

How could you forget that Yoongi has his friends over on Friday nights? The gaps in your memory were starting to grow concerning. 

You gave a half wave before awkwardly closing the door behind you. What did you even look like right now? Your team had given up on any sort of professional appearance once the overtime had started and your team routinely showed up in sweatshirts, sweatpants, leggings, or pajamas at this point. If someone was wearing the same clothes as the previous day, everyone else turned a blind eye. You were sure that your hair was a ratty mess atop your head and your overly loose sweatshirt was drowning you in fabric, likely making you look like a kid playing dress up. Your concerns over your appearance dissipated when you felt a body slam against yours in a hug, arms enveloping your waist. 

“Noona! Did you get back from the office just now? You’re working too late,” Jeongguk exclaimed, squeezing you before releasing his hold.

You laughed slightly, “Yeah, things are busy since the game’s coming out in about a month, and since you get early access, we have to work even harder.”

Your joke made Jeongguk frown slightly, “Maybe I’ll catch some labor law violations in the vlog and you can win big in a lawsuit.”

You chuckled, patting his shoulder, “I’ll file after I get my new year bonus.”

You began taking off your shoes, having to face the rest of the group, who all gave you warm smiles, Taehyung and Namjoon both sending you a friendly wave. Seokjin sent a stern glare in your direction, facing his vitriol on the oversized young man behind you, “Yah, Jeongguk, leave her alone, she only just got back. What vlog are you talking about anyway?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Jeongguk beat you to it, slinging his arms around you, a bit like a sloth hanging onto a tree, you noted.

“I get to hang out with noona all day on Tuesday since I’m filming a behind the scenes vlog for my second channel,” he responded, letting you go when Taehyung beckoned him over with the promise of a dangling chicken drumstick. 

Right, food. The chicken on the coffee table looked far too appetizing, but it felt rude of you to intrude so you tried to casually look away from it. 

“I didn’t know about that,” came Yoongi’s voice for the first time since you’d stepped into the apartment. It drew your gaze immediately, seeing a small frown on his face and furrowed eyebrows. Was he upset that you hadn’t told him? You suppose Jeongguk was his friend first.

“Ah, yeah, I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you too much,” you said, trying to convey your guilt.

Yoongi shook his head, “Not your fault, you’d think that this brat,” he flicked Jeongguk’s forehead, who protested through a mouth full of chicken, “Would tell me that he was spending the day with my wife at work.”

Your chest bloomed at his choice of words, you’d rarely heard him refer to you as his wife, only at the reception of your wedding when talking to guests. Somehow, him using it now in such an intimate setting made your marriage feel all the more real. 

“Speaking of,” Seokjin interjected, “Isn’t your one month anniversary coming up? Are you guys doing anything fun?”

You and Yoongi both looked at each other, a bit at a loss for words. You hadn’t even thought about that, had it really already been almost a month? Somehow, it felt simultaneously shorter and much, much longer than that. You felt like you’d already spent a lifetime with Yoongi, but it’d barely been four weeks.

“I believe that’s on the same day as the gallery,” Namjoon said casually, snatching a small piece of chicken from Jeongguk’s clutches.

“Gallery,” Yoongi questioned.

“Oh, Namjoon and I are going to a gallery for an artist he introduced me to, we’d talked about when we met at that gallery a few weeks back,” you explained, trying to focus on the conversation and not how good the chicken looked. 

Yoongi seemed to be pondering his response when Namjoon caught your gaze on the food.

“Have you eaten yet, Y/N,” he questioned. 

You shook your head softly, a bit embarrassed that you were found out so quickly. 

“Join us,” Seokjin said, snatching the rest of the box from Jeongguk who pouted sadly, “You can have the rest of what’s in here and we can order more too.”

“No, you guys should eat that, it’s yours,” you insisted, feeling slightly childish with Seokjin’s suggestion.

“Jeonggukie ate most of it anyway, so we were going to need more,” Seokjin said, waving away your concerns, “We really need to start ordering multiple portions for him so he doesn’t eat all of it.”

You laughed and started toward the couch to join them, but took a quick glance at Yoongi’s expression to see if he was okay with it. The scene felt oddly familiar to you, reminding you of the last time you were invited to sit with them and you felt compelled to refuse.

Yoongi’s face looked unreadable, just like then too, but he seemed to be more deep in thought this time. He caught your gaze and smiled, though, nodding for you to join them. You gave a sheepish smile in response, making your way to the couch and sitting next to Namjoon, who had moved closer to the middle to make room for you. 

“Thanks, it’s been a long day,” you said, leaning into the soft cushions of the couch. You were going to have to be careful not to fall asleep, you were so used to collapsing onto this same couch after work. 

The food quickly arrived and the men continued to engage in conversation, making sure to include you, but you felt yourself getting drowsy. It seemed you had reached your limit when you felt your head bump into Namjoon’s shoulder in a sleep induced sway. You lifted yourself upright, blinking sleepily up at him, making out his soft smile, “Sorry, Namjoon-ah. I’m a bit tired.” You could hear yourself slurring your words. 

“No worries, Y/N, maybe we should get you to bed,” he responded, steading you again with a firm hand on your shoulder. 

If you had felt like a child earlier, you most certainly felt more like one now.

You felt Namjoon’s hands grasp your shoulders, gently lifting you to a standing position before a new pair of hands took over. 

“I’ll take her upstairs, Joon, can you make sure Seokjin doesn’t spill anything while I’m gone,” you heard Yoongi’s voice ask. Your eyes were barely open and your mind felt quite cloudy in your drowsy haze. Looking up at Yoongi, you caught his pensive expression before he looked down at you, sending you a small smile. He gently squeezed your shoulders and slowly led you up the stairs and to your room, you could distantly hear Jeongguk calling out a goodnight. 

You were barely conscious for the walk to your bedroom, feeling yourself lean against Yoongi for support. He patiently guided you, opening the door to your room and laying you down on your bed. Why did this feel familiar too?

Yoongi’s fingers brushed a few stray pieces of hair out of your face, you could feel the rough pads of his fingertips against your forehead. Almost asleep now, you barely registered yourself leaning into his touch as he brought his fingers around your face to cup your cheek. 

“Will you be okay sleeping in those clothes? Any makeup you have to wipe off,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. 

“No,” you mumbled, “I’m fine. Wanna sleep now. Goodnight, Yoongi-ah.”

You felt his thumb freeze its motions before he whispered back, “Goodnight, Y/N-ie. Sleep well.”

You were already asleep by the time he closed your bedroom door.

Yoongi felt conflicted over his newly realized feelings for you. In a way, it was freeing, being able to act affectionately with you without any ambiguity or restriction. Well, there were still some restrictions and maybe some ambiguity too. You were starting as friends, and Yoongi did think that was a good idea, he really did, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t dying to go further with you. 

His hands constantly itched to take yours and his eyes were always drawn to your soft and gentle smile. You had been smiling a bit more since that fateful weekend, and Yoongi was enjoying every second of it. 

Though, there weren’t really that many seconds of it to enjoy, considering your hectic schedule since your date. You’d been cooped up at your office pretty much every evening, a feeling Yoongi was familiar with, so he couldn’t fault you. Every time he managed to catch a rare glimpse of you in the house, you were either sleeping on the couch, or tiredly eating at the table. Despite your haggard appearance and exhausted demeanor, you’d always managed to smile a greeting at him and apologize for being so busy. 

Yoongi couldn’t find it in himself to be upset at your absence. Even though he was aching to be close to you and spend more with you, he knew your work was important and busy right now. Yoongi had to be patient, something he was not excited for. Your skin always looked too inviting, your lips too soft, and your eyes too alluring. He constantly had to reign in his wandering thoughts about you, even having to do a bit of overtime himself to make up for his distracted nature the past few weeks. 

Despite his growing attraction to you, whenever he laid eyes on your messy appearance with considerable eyebags adorning your sweet face, your lips forming a tired pout, in the multiple times he’d caught you sleeping on the couch when he went downstairs to check if you’d returned, his thoughts dissipated. You were clearly working yourself to the bone and Yoongi knew he couldn’t stop you, he’d been in your position multiple times. Sometimes, there was no other way around it. So he did what he could, a blanket covering your sleeping form, a small snack or candy slipped into your bag, or an extra serving of dinner waiting for you in the microwave, this was how Yoongi knew to show his love. 

Love? Was it? 

No, he didn’t think so. At least not yet. It was too early on to tell if he loved you, but he could feel himself starting down that path. He only wished that he could be in an actual relationship with you, though he knew why he couldn’t. His friends knew about the arrangement, he’d confided in Seokjin and Namjoon, but he hadn’t revealed his growing feelings for you, only that you’d decided to become friends. 

Maybe that had been a mistake, considering how close they seemed to be getting to you. Yoongi recalled how his friends had jumped at your presence when you’d entered the apartment. As he climbed into bed, he remembered how Jeongguk had stood excitedly at your arrival and immediately crushed you in an intimate hug. Had Yoongi hugged you before? He couldn’t remember, but it was all he could think about now. Jeongguk had mentioned that he’d be spending the day with you at work on Tuesday, Yoongi had never seen you in your office either. Suddenly, that single walk to work together all those days ago felt minimal compared to what Jeongguk was going to get to experience. 

You seemed to have grown close with Namjoon as well, Yoongi thought, remembering the way that Namjoon had smiled invitingly at you and the way you’d sat next him, bumping your head against his shoulder in your attempt to sleep. What was that? Yoongi felt restless, maybe he should’ve clarified his feelings to his friends so they’d know you were off limits.

Except, you weren’t. Yoongi knew that. He had no claim over you, he wasn’t your boyfriend, only your designated husband. Yoongi’s mind wandered back to the interactions between you and Namjoon, racing to analyze every interaction, despite his acceptance that it wasn’t his place. 

You seemed so comfortable with Namjoon, you��d even called his name so affectionately. Well, you’d said Yoongi’s name affectionately too, he gloated internally. That had been a sweet moment that he was going to treasure, you had been so placid and vulnerable, a side to you he hadn’t seen before. It had been hard to contain himself since he’d brought you to your room, feeling you lean against him and into his hand, he’d wanted to kiss you. 

But he knew better, he had to wait. Yoongi tried not to think about what would happen if you decided you only wanted to be friends with him and nothing more. He had already fallen so deeply for you. It was unexpected for him to fall so quickly and so hard, surprising even himself. You’d managed to wedge your way into his heart, making him uncomfortable, only to set up shop there and grow his fondness toward you. 

Yoongi’s mind drifted back to the earlier conversation, when Seokjin had mentioned your one month anniversary. Should he be planning something? He wasn’t sure. To be honest, he didn’t really want to celebrate your wedding day, it felt like it was yours. It was more for other people than anything. Not to mention, he didn’t want to call attention back to when he’d been acting so crassly. Yoongi cringed at the memory. 

Besides, Namjoon had mentioned that you two were going to a gallery that day. Yoongi was only slightly jealous, or that was what he was telling himself. Why did you have to have so much in common with his friends and be so personable? His envy grew at the fact that Namjoon would be spending so much time with you on your wedding anniversary, despite Yoongi’s earlier dismissal of it. How was it fair that the man you were spending your anniversary with wasn’t your husband, but his friend?

Maybe he should plan something for that day for when you come back from the gallery. The idea made him smile. He wanted to make it a special day for you, and with newfound determination to show up Namjoon, he would. 

previous / masterlist / next

[grapejuice32]

3some. i will elaborate no further. you know what i want.

Next Time

Rafe x reader x JJ

notes: I'm so sorry about the wait on this one! I had a lot of fun with this one, lmk if you'd like more Rafe x reader x JJ!

Hot open mouthed kissed were being trailed along your neck, your head was thrown back against his shoulder, exposing more of your skin to him, ready for him to mark. Warm, calloused hands, ran up and down your calves, the cool metal of the rings on his fingers a stark contrast to your warm skin. You sighed in pleasure, your eyes falling shut as Rafe bit lightly into the skin of where your neck and collarbone met, whining in discontent as pulled his lips off of your skin, "uh uh, need y'to keep your eyes on JJ, sweetheart."

You exhaled, doing as he said, but struggling to stop your eyes fluttering shut again as his lips made contact with your jaw, "You feelin' good mama?" JJ's voice drawled from where he was kneeled between your legs, to which you only nodded, a snap breath living your lips as your eyes met his, his hands travelling up your thighs. "Mm, what was that? Couldn't hear you baby."

Rafe's hands slipped under the t-shirt your were wearing as you responded to JJ, "feels good, J."

His lips quirked up as he leant down to press light kiss to your inner thighs, "That's what I thought." Your breath hitched as he trailed kisses up your inner thigh, his lips ghosting over your underwear, Rafe pulled your shirt up so that it bunched up over your chest your bra now exposed.

"Stop teasing," you huffed in frustration, your hands making their way to JJ's head to try and push him down to where you needed him. Only resulting in Rafe tutting in disapproval, his hands leaving your bare torso to take your hands in his.

"Hey now, none'f that," his breath was hot next to your ear, a jolt of pleasure sent through you as he nipped your earlobe, "jus' tryn'a make our girl feel good after such a long day, ain't that right J?"

"Yeah, 's right." He nodded, kissing the skin of your lower stomach, just above the waistband of your panties, you pushed your hips up, desperate for stimulation go some kind, but your reaction got you the opposite, instead JJ gripped your hips in his large hands, pinning you to the bed to stop you from moving around.

"So ungrateful," Rafe's voice sounded, "maybe y'shouldn't be gettin' anythin' after all," he mumbled, but his words were loud enough that JJ heard, instantly pulling off of you, knowing that Rafe's words were less of a suggestion and more of a command.

"No, please," you breathed out in slight panic, "I'll be good, I promise, just, please."

"Nah, beggin's not gon' get you anywhere, 's too late," Are began to slide out from behind you, JJ still kneeling on the bed between your legs but no longer touching you, now leaning back and sitting on his feet, "think J an' I're gonna go off an' have our own fun without you."

You slumped in defeat, "no, please, jus-"

"Fine, y'know what? Get your ass over there," Rafe ordered, pointing over to the seat in the corner of the room, "y'can stay an' watch."

He then pulled his attention off of you, and walked around the bed to where JJ sat on the end, he took JJ's face in his hands, leaning down and kissing him roughly, the moan that left JJ's mouth, though muffled by Rafe's, left you biting your lip, squirming in your seat as you watched the two of them.

JJ reached up, grabbing Rafe's biceps and pulling him in closer to himself. It wasn't long before Rafe had pushed JJ down on the bed, one of his hands leaving JJ's jaw to grip the end of JJ's shirt, their lips momentarily separating as Rafe pulled JJ's shirt over his head, leaving his upper body bare. You gripped the armrests of the chair, breathing heavily as you watched JJ's hands slide down to Rafe's lower back. You let go of the armrests, sliding your hands to your panties, only to be halted by Rafe, who somehow had noticed what you were doing even though you were sure he hadn't been looking, "Don't you dare fuckin' touch yourself," he spoke, still not looking at you or even in your direction, "you hear me?" You nodded, a disappointed look on your face as you returned your hands to grip the armrests, "What was that?" he asked, his lips now pressing to JJ's neck and nipping at the skin there.

"I understand," you mumbled, growing frustrated as the only fraction you could provide for yourself as you watched was from the clenching of your thighs, a frown on your face as you watched Rafe get JJ off with his hand, the both of them completely ignoring you, Rafe ignoring you to teach you a lesson and JJ ignoring you because he was too consumed in Rafe's touch.

It was only when a loud moan had left JJ's lips upon him finishing that Rafe looked over to you, the sexual frustration clear on your face, "Aw, 's wrong? Y'feelin' left out, sweetheart?"

You nodded, a pitiful look on your face. Rafe moved to lay next to JJ who was trying to catch his breath a light sheen of sweat visible on his bare chest. "C'mere," Rafe beckoned, reaching a hand out to you, you were instantly on your feet, and moving over to the bed, holding onto Rafe's outstretched hand.

When you thought you were finally going to get the stimulation you needed, Rafe pulled you down to lay beside him, his hand letting go of yours to slip under your body and hold your waist, pulling you close to him. You sent a look of confusion his way at his actions, a mock pitiful chuckle leaving him, "What, did y'think I was gon' get you off, hm?" When you nodded, your eyes wide as you looked up at him, your lips slightly downturned, he just shook his head, "Nah, y'had your chance f'that, didn't you? Besides," he looked over to JJ, whose eyes were half-lidded, his chest rising and falling gently as breathed, his head leant against Rafe's bare shoulder, "J's worn out, you'll have t'wait."

You looked up at him with something along the lines of outrage and he just shrugged, squeezing your waist and pressed a kiss to your hairline, " 's what happens when y'don't listen, better remember for next time, yeah?"

You semi-glared at him, but gave up and rested your head on his bare chest, having removed his shirt at some point earlier, you looked at JJ to see if he'd show you some sympathy but to no avail, instead his lips just curled up in a teasing smile. Yeah, next time you'd listen.

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3

[itgirl-cad]

Inho/ Young-il X Reader Smut 😋

————————

Plot: Set during the mingle game. You notice something different about young-il and your suspicions grow. When the attacks occur, he drags you to the washrooms, having enough of your suspicions 👀

Words: 3,790

———————

Warnings:

Death, violence, elements of CNC and dubcon, oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v sex, choking/ breath play.

—————

I had survived two games thus far, the last game, thanks to the team I had managed to stick with. Everyone is treated equally but it is clear that 001 and 456 hold more stock than the rest of us. Everyone in the group is sweet to me and that is all I can ask for at the moment. 456 is a bit eccentric but I do believe what he says about being the previous winner… 001… I‘m still unsure of how I feel about him. He has been nothing but kind to me, but some of the things my ears catch seem suspicious… or i’m just on edge.

We walk up to play the next game and I feel the nerves hit with each step, behind me I feel a soft hand on my shoulder. It makes me stop and turn around before continuing to climb. I see Young-il’s face, he has a soft expression, one I don’t see often.

“We stick together, yeah?”. I give a small nod in return as I continue to walk. The small gesture did succeed in comforting me, even just a bit. Knowing my team won’t give up on me.

We walk into the game room and it is dressed up like a carnival. I look around in awe. Out of context this looks incredible, but then I realize it will soon be stained in red and my expression falters. The aggravating voice on the speakers announces the instructions for the game as all the players take a place on the platform. I look around my team, making sure everyone is here.

“So numbers is our strategy? How do we separate if the number is smaller than 5?” I ask out loud to the group.

Gi-hun looks at me then addresses the whole group, “Jung-bae and I will stay together, you and Young-il.. We’ll take Dae-ho if the number is 3.”

“So we’d only need to find one person” I confirm and Gi-hun nods.

“Okay.. i-” I yelp as the platform starts to move. I lost my balance from the shock and stumble. Young-il grabs ahold of my waist as my hands go up in the air. He placed me upright as I regained my balance. I looked back at him with a look of slight embarrassment, “Sorry”.

He gives a small smile, “It’s alright”. I then look around trying to scout out the nearest room as the platform comes to a stop. The voice booms out the number 6. We all look at each other and I raise my hand holding one finger up, “We need one!” I repeat as I walk around looking for a loner.

Gi-hun yells to get my attention, I crank my head in his direction and he's yelling saying he found someone. Without a second thought, I raced to an empty room. Everyone follows me as we pile into the room. As the door locked I was panting. I looked around making sure we had a headcount of six.

“You run fast.” Young-il mutters to me. I look back at him, not expecting such a random comment.

“Yeah, I used to do long distance… I was pretty good at it.”

He gives a nod as if he wasn’t that interested in my comment. “I did not know that about you.” he mutters again.

Huh? Of course you don’t.. Before I could respond to his comment, the doors unlocked and everyone piled out of the room. I step out and nearly step in a pool of blood. I cover my mouth and look away. I felt a hand on my waist again but I froze this time. Then I heard his soft voice.

“You don’t have to look, I can guide you over.” He leads me back to the platform, making sure we avoid the blood splatter. I hold onto his arm as the platform begins to spin again. The sudden movement was rough and unexpected.

The next number called was 4. Gi-hun, Dae-ho and Jung-bae took off to look for one player. I yelled for them but Young-il grabbed my wrist and pulled me away screaming for two other players. I joined his screaming

“We need two! Please!” I screamed as I saw two girls. I pulled them over and Young-il ran to get us a room. There were 10 seconds left. I was screaming and running for my life as the two girls followed me. Once I was in, I noticed only one other girl inside and some strange man.

“Wait!” I screamed but it was too late. Just as I noticed 001 locked the door. “No! You asshole! You shoved her!” I yelled at the man.

Suddenly I see a pair of crying eyes through the small slot of the door. It's the girl calling out for her friend. I cover my mouth as the two girls have a moment. A shot is heard and the girl is not speaking anymore. Her friend starts crying. I keep my mouth covered as my tears start up. The two are fighting as Young-il tries to concoll me a bit.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He mumbled in my ear. I sniffle and keep my tears at bay. What I didn’t see was a small smirk he had when I was crying in his arms.

We step out of the room, avoiding that poor girl’s pool of blood and I look around for our team. My eyes beam as I see Gi-hun. I wave him over and he lets out a sound of excitement.

“y/n!” He gives me a short hug, “I’m so glad you made it! Young-il!” He gave the same hug to the man I was with. They chuckle and talk for a moment.

After a few rounds Gi-hun and Young-il murmur about the next round, “What number are they going to call next?”

“Two” Young-il answers a little two quickly.

I cock my eyebrow, “How do you know?” I get a bit invasive with my question. If Gi-hun didn’t know what to expect, why should this rando? Unless he is just guessing.

Young-il explains the probability of the number being called because it will eliminate the most people and make for an ‘effective’ final round. I just nod but in the back of my mind I notice how strange and calculated his answer is… weird.

The platform stops moving and I hear the number two. We all share a look and my gaze lingers on Young-il a bit suspicious but I am pulled from my thoughts.

“Come on!” He hollers as he yanks me away to find an empty room. I yelp and follow him in. I don’t acknowledge there's another man in the room until I hear an unfamiliar voice say “We were here first!” my heart sinks.

“Get out!” Young il yells.

“Leave!” I tried to yank him away but he glued himself to the wall. My heart was pounding as I looked at the clock as it read 12 seconds.. 11.. 10.

“Close it!” He yelled at me. I panicked and did as he said. I stare outside and realize they will kill us since we have three, not two. I turn around “We are gonna-” I freeze.

Young-il was choking the man to death. He didn’t say anything to me. And I didn’t say anything to him. I just watched in fear as he snapped that man's neck. The time went to 00:00 and young-il relaxed. While he did just save our lives… he killed a man… I just stared at him and then on the floor. He had a look on his face I could not read. I can not say I have ever seen that look on another person’s face.

While we were voting, I was standing next to Jung-bae as 001 went to cast his vote. He leaned closer to me and mumbled, “I know his vote, but… there's something about him..”

I nod, “I know what you mean. Earlier in the game, when we were in the room…” I took a sharp inhale, “I saw him-” The buzzer went off as he pressed X. we cheered. We tied it up! But after celebrating, we were told we will vote again tomorrow.

We were handed food and I ate with my group. Young-il was still waiting in line for food.

Jung-bae used his shoulder to tap mine.

“Hm?”

“What were you trying to say about young-il?”

“What?” I continue to eat.

“You were saying something about in the game you saw him do something.” he tried to prompt me.

I nod, “Oh right… Well it was the last round, and we got into the room, there was another guy there and-” I took a short breath in the middle of my ramble, but that is when a voice cut into our conversation.

“Congratulations everyone.” Young-il smiles at the group.

Gi-hun nods and smiles as he finishes his food. I can tell he wanted me to finish what I was saying. He said something to 001 but neither he or I listened. He let his gaze linger on me a moment too long but I noticed the difference. My face heats up a bit and I continue to shovel the food into my face as Young-il takes a seat directly next to me.

The rest of the day was normal, just a plan to avoid the inevitable fight that was going to break out when the lights went out. Gi-hun suggested our small group hide under the beds and stay put until the lights go back up. And we did just that.. Gi-hun and Jung-bae were together and Young-il and I.

The whole night I made sure my breathing was silent and I stayed put, having no attention falling my way.

Midway through the fight I felt my leg being dragged and to my dismay I let out a scream. It was cut short by a hand on my mouth. I felt myself being dragged out of the door, where the washrooms are. I calmed down for a moment when I was able to see who had stolen me away. I sigh from relief when I see Young-il.

“You scared me! I thought you were some random lunatic! Oh my-” As I calm down he pulls me into the mens washroom.

“Young-il what the hell?” I groan as he continues to pull me places. I yelp as the look in his eyes changes and I am shoved up against a wall. His forearm firmly above my chest, keeping me pinned to the wall with little effort. My face churns with fear as I look at the man I had trusted.

“Uhm.. what are you doing?” my voice was wavering a bit.

“You don’t shut up, do you?” He mutters, his face a few inches from mine. His glare pieces into my soul and makes my blood run cold. “Now tell me why I overheard you talking about me?”

I froze a bit, not expecting him to bring that up.

“I.. what?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, little girl.” His arm stays firm above my chest but his over hand snakes around my neck. There is no pressure but I gasp. I know he can feel how fast my pulse is rushing because he smirks.

“Y-you killed a man..” I stutter out. He just chuckled like a psychopath and tilted his head slightly.

“You mean like this?” He applies pressure on my throat and I gasp. My hands instinctively try to pull him away and fight him off, afraid of dying in such a way. He simply tuts at me and with his martial arts training, swiftly grabs my wrists and pins them above my head and smirks.

I am losing air as his grip gets stronger. I can see the evil glow in his eyes as he has me like this. Getting dizzy and arms pinned above my head.

“You may be smarter than I thought, little one. After every remark I make, you are the only one to give it a second glance. The only one stupid enough to start gossiping about me.”

I start to wheeze and fully struggle against him, my body resorts to fighting as I fear the end of my consciousness. It is as if he senses the shift in my body and lets go of my body. He lets go, throwing his hands down which in return throws my body to the floor.

I lay on the bathroom floor coughing and gasping for air. He stares down at me like a disproving father, “Get up, pet.” he growls at me.

I wheeze and struggle to stand up. Before I can get to my feet, young-il shoves my shoulders down, keeping me at my knees. I look up at him

“Who the fuck are you..” tears start to form in my eyes as I hear him chuckle.

“Call me In-ho.”

I look confused, “Wha-” I gasp as he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back to look him in the eyes.

“I’m the one your precious hero is trying to find” he smirks as my face contorts in fear and the tears fall. My silent cries make him sigh and his grip on my hair tighten.

“Now you listen to me you pathetic mutt. You do as you are told and you live for at least one more game… or, I relieve you of your pathetic life and tell the others you got killed in the fight.” He bends down to my level slightly, “Now, which option would you prefer?”

A few minutes later, his pants drop and he orders me to remove his underwear, I gasp as I see his cock spring free.

“Don’t act so surprised, I saw you staring today.” my blush pops up at his dirty comment making him laugh. “Don’t just sit there. Put your mouth to use or I’ll bash your empty head against the urinal.” His voice was dark and powerful. Out of fear I open my mouth wide and take him in while my tears fall down. The occasional tear will slide down and fall onto his cock making him laugh. I grunt and gag as I bob my head slowly. He hums in satisfaction but then grabs my hair. He uses my hair to painfully push my head away and closer to him, making make-shift ponytails for him to grasp.

In-ho’s moans are deep as he takes what he wants. For the most part he is silent, just using my mouth as a fucktoy.

“Stupid slut..” he groans, “Can’t even suck a cock right.. Can’t even make money like this. hm? Maybe I’ll have to train you.” He moans more, getting off on degrading me. I gag as he moves my head faster, the pain in my head not getting any better. My noises of pain and fear make him chuckle. It was a dark evil chuckle full of satisfaction as he used my mouth to get off, “Poor pathetic whore.. You’re gonna swallow my cum like a good whore, yeah? Mm yes you are.” he grunts as his thrusts get sloppy. Drool and tears are falling from my face and down my clothing. “Take it! Take it like a whore!” he grunts as he throws his head back. His movements stall and he lets out sounds of pleasure as he releases his cum in my mouth. I do as I am told and swallow as much as I can.

In-ho is regaining his breath but looks down at me, not letting his scary persona leave, “Swallow everything. If I see a single drop, you go headfirst into that mirror.” He warns.

I whimper and struggle to clean him off and make sure not a drop is wasted. He chuckles at my pathetic state. And released his cock from my mouth making me cough and whine.

In-ho shoved me to my feet and bent me over the sink, I knew better than to move or try to escape, he knows I can be a smart girl. I gasp as my pants and underwear are forcefully shoved down past my knees. He keeps me bent over and uses his fingers to inspect. I look at him in the mirror and gasp as his fingers rub my clit. I let out a moan and blush, closing my mouth, pretending to glue it shut.

In-ho smirks and groans as he tortures my clit, “You’re already so wet. Did you seriously get this wet from sucking my cock?” He teased me. His smooth voice is right against my ear as I whine. “Answer me, mutt” He said as a warning.

“Y-Yes..” I admit as I struggle to keep in my sounds of pleasure. I did not want to give this psycho the satisfaction.

I hear that sexy dark chuckle right in my ear, making my hair stand up. “Yes what..? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my name already.” he taunts.

“Y-yes.. I-Inho…” I whimper as I feel two fingers force their way inside me. No prep or anything, he forced two fingers to violate me, “Stop..” I mumbled.

“Hm? You said something?” He smirks as his fingers speed up.

I grip the edge of the sink and breath heavily as if I am going into labour. “Stop it..”

“Mmm now why would I do that?”

I bite my lip and look down, not being able to face him right now. “You’re hurting me”

At my whine I am greeted by a laugh. He laughed at me. “Oh baby, I'm hurting you?” He says in a mocking tone. I nod and hear him laugh again, “Oh it hurts? It hurts.. Mm thats why your pussy is making that sloshing sound hm?”

I finally let out a defeated moan and a frustrated whine. It did feel good. Gods it felt so good. But being fingered by the same hands that snapped that man's neck..

He laughed and pulled his fingers out of my pussy. I whine at the loss but before I can protest further he shoves his fingers in my mouth. “Mm do you taste good? Tell me..” he whispers in my ear.

I hum and suck his fingers clean.

“Mm… I’ll have to see for myself. Perhaps another time, pet.”

I gasp as I feel his hard and still wet cock sliding at my entrance.

“I suggest you start at least pretending like you’re enjoying it.. Okay?”

I nod quickly, fearful of what's to come if I disobey a direct order.

“Good slut. Now bend over more” I, again do as he says, bending over more. I gasp as he kicks my legs making them spread wider. Before I could register the change in position, his hands were on my waist and he forced his cock in without warning in one swift movement. I let out a scream both in pain and pleasure. My breathing quickened as he grunted, bottoming out. His hips are flushed against mine. I whimper as he graciously allows me to adjust to his cock.

He takes a few breaths before starting to move. I eat up his moans proud, in a twisted way that I can make such a powerful man fold for my body, regardless of the situation.

“You’re such a tight slut..” He grunts as he starts to thrust at a fast pace.

I scream for him and he chuckles. “Ih-ho! Mmm oh fuck!” I whine like a slut, making his thrusts hit harder. I struggle to hold onto the sink as my body keeps jolting forward.

“Mm you sound so pretty saying my name like that. Tell me who you belong to.” He used one hand to land a harsh and unforgiving slap on my ass while the other held my waist firm.

I scream at the slap and arch my back in response.

“I-I.. You own me.. I belong to In-ho!” I gasp out as his cock makes me see stars.

He pounds me harder as he delivers another slap to my ass making me cry out in pain.

“Good mutt. You are nothing but my pet. I will use you as such.” He grunts, having full satisfaction.

I whine, looking slightly disappointed. He laughed at my expression ”Awh what’s that look for hm? Oh… don’t tell me you thought I actually cared about you..” he laughed at me as I looked down in shame. “You stupid bitch. Mm oh god..” he moans as he continues to pound into me. “This is why I’m keeping you around. This pussy is keeping you alive. Remember that.” He grunts

In-ho continues to fuck me dumb giving me some praise to melt me just how he wants me.

I then feel him yank at my hair and force my eyes up at the mirror. He instructed me to look at myself as he fucks me stupid.

“See your drool? See your stupid fucking face as I ruin you.” I give empty headed moans as he ruins my body. He slaps my ass again but this time I just drool. He laughs at my pathetic state, my reactions driving him to the edge.

He grunts in my ear, his voice dangerous and lethal, “I’m going to cum in your tight pussy, got it?” I give him another empty headed moan as he talks to me. “Good doll. You are going to keep every drop inside you, yes?” He doesn’t give me a choice. He uses my hair to force my head to nod up and down. “Good mutt. Keep every drop in your cunt.. don’t waste your owner's seed” he hunts desperately as I scream for him.

“That’s right. Good girl..” With a few more grunts he released his cum inside me. After his breathing evens out he warns me “keep every drop or a bash your skull..”

He stays like that for a while, kissing up my neck and finally kissing me proper. I let my eyes close and my tongue dance with his as he groped my waist tighter.

After fixing our hair and dressing he gives me another look of warning. “If you breathe a word of this or my identity to anyone-”

“I won't, I swear to you, sir!” I answer quickly, fearing for my life.

In-ho smirked and nodded, “Good.. but cut me off again and I cut out your tongue.”

I nod and stay silent as he leads me back through the chaos of the fight, back to our safe spot. He turns to me and whispers, “What name do you address me by?”

I looked at him trying to keep eye contact as the lights strobe, “Young-il”

“Good mutt”.

[putschki1969]

hi puts!

First of all congrats to you and all the kalafans that have made it to the Anni concert! I just couldn't find a way to fly there thanks to the silly leave policies in my company ( i was at work sobbing while the girls were singing probably their last kala live😭😭)

So, what do you think about the possibility of WKH singing live together in the future? I saw a lot of tweets saying there is slim chance... even the girls themselves didn't seem optimistic about it, and the “一夜限り” slogans seemed like they're trying to deliver a long overdue farewell to the fans by this concert for the past 7 years 😭 it's giving me a feeling that they're striving to respond to the love they received from the kalafans, while risking almost recklessly of losing tremendous support from YK sensei's side. I also saw a tweet about the fact that YK unfollowed K&H, this made me so sad although I knew it was totally rational since they previously broke up in such notorious way🥹

But all in all seeing WKH loving each other is the best new year gift to me, i hope them don't lose this precious connection ♥️

Thanks for reading my message!

Hello there!

Awww, thank you! It truly was the experience of a lifetime and I wouldn't have missed it for the world.🥰 Whether it was their "best" concert is probably up to personal preference (the setlist wasn't my cup of tea to be honest) but it definitely felt like their most important concert to me. I think it gave everyone involved a certain peace of mind after everything that had happened in the past seven years.

I am really sorry that you weren't able to make it. Thankfully, we will be getting a TV broadcast so that's a tiny consolation at least.

Hmmmn, as I mentioned in my live report, the girls didn’t even hint at any possible future activities. There was just an endless amount of appreciation/gratitude for the past and present. And as you say, it was more about treasuring a special night together, this miraculous opportunity to sing together one more time. The entire concert had somewhat of a final feel to it, like it was giving us a sense of closure (which we had previously been denied).

While there don't seem to be any concrete plans for the future, the girls are clearly not without hope. They didn't dare (or weren't able) to say anything specific but Keiko didn't miss the chance to utter a few hopeful words, more like a prayer actually, "叶うならまた~/If my wish would come true, maybe [we can do this/sing together] again~"

There's a clear desire to be together again and they evidently have so much love for each other (💙🖤🤍) so that's really all I need to know to remain hopeful. Will it take time? Sure! Will sacrifices have to be made? Absolutely! This concert has strengthened my conviction, my love for Kalafina is as strong as ever, if not stronger. I will wait as long as it takes but I think it's also valid to interpret this concert as a solid send-off for everyone who has previously struggled to let go due to the abrupt way things ended back in the day.

As for Yuki Kajiura and losing her support, I currently don't know what's true and what's not. How does she really feel about all of this? Her initial statement was harsh and immature if you ask me. Was it her prerogative to be upset about the situation, of course! Should she have taken a step back to reflect on what was happening in order to release a more professional statement, I personally think so. But hey, what's done is done and for what it's worth, I think that first tweet was probably the most honest reflection of her feelings. Everything that followed felt a little disingenuous to me, like empty platitudes, her way of providing some much needed damage control. Hikaru and Keiko seem to have talked things through with Yuki but it was probably on a surface level. They apparently had no big issues working together during the YKL Asia Tour but really, what other choice could they have had seeing as their participation was decided long before the whole Kalafina debacle. I wonder though, how all of this will affect future activities. I believe Yuki when she says she still respects the girls as singers but that doesn't mean she is willing to work with them as much as she used to. For the time being, I am optimistic though and feel like nothing much will change on that front. So Keiko will most likely remain a regular member of FJ and Hikaru may appear as guest vocalist from time to time. Although Yuki might refrain from doing Kalafina covers for a while. Or she'll double down and focus even more on Kalafina covers out of spite. We'll know more by March when details for YKL Vol.#21 are announced.

I was not aware of the Twitter thing. Can't say I keep track of who Yuki is following so I wouldn't even be able to confirm that she ever followed the girls in the first place. But if she really unfollowed them over this, I would find it more than petty of her. But I guess it would track with the usual M.O. of ignoring each other's online presence in the ever-lasting feud between Team Yuki and Team Space Craft. Maybe now that Hikaru and Keiko are "aligning themselves with the enemy" (i.e. participating in the Kalafina live and following Wakana on social media) they have fallen out of favour and are being considered as "Space Craft adjacent". Who knows...

I am honestly curious what sort of arrangement Keiko and Hikaru have going on with Space Craft. They obviously did not sign a proper management contract since Keiko is presumably still with Tristone and Hikaru is still a freelancer but there must be some contractual obligations that may or may not affect some of their current and future activities. Keiko has pretty much stopped doing Instagram Lives and mainly shares insights through her Yodel app so I cannot help but wonder if that has anything to do with certain Space Craft restrictions. According to Keiko's messages in Yodel, it is more of a personal choice but meh, the timing is a bit suspicious.

Either way, I hope to see them do more promotional stuff for the upcoming TV broadcast and share a few more pictures/thoughts regarding the concert. Ideally, I want to see them do casual stuff together and post about it on social media 💙🖤🤍but I'm not sure that's gonna happen. I also wonder if we'll get anything special for tomorrow (their actual anniversary). It's probably best not to get my hopes up.🙃

I don't need Kalafina to release any new music and they don't even have to go back to regular live activities but I'd be more than happy to see them hold an annual concert or so. Let's keep our fingers crossed!

Additionally, I hope the girls can continue to focus on their solo careers. Hikaru hinted at already having some plans for further activities once her tour is over (hope to get an announcement soon) and Wakana has her spring live line up. Nothing special in store for Keiko yet (except for that Tristone event) so I am eager for some updates.🙏

[theromanticjedi]

Viktor was a smart man- IS! He is a smart man, but Jayce, gods he makes Viktor feel so stupid.

Jayce x Viktor

Warnings: Talk about real world probloms?

A/N: Viktor is an Enviormental science student who is active in political and social probloms. He works at a small student owned human rights campain and makes posts about it on his socials. Jayce is an Engineer student. Who works at a small restaraunt. And helps Viktor figure out logistics. As a viktor kinnie looking for my irl Jayce, I approve this message.

"Okay, maybe choosing not to live in the dorms was stupid." Viktor huffs as He and Jayce walk back to their flat after classes. "Better accomidations at the flat." Jayce says not really looking up from his new work scedule, untill Viktor stops him from walking into traffic. "Eh, I could handle the stairs but walking in the cold, no." "Could you?" Jayce says a little dazed from getting pulled. "I dunno, probably." "But could you handle living with classmates?" Jayce smirks. "Eh, I live with you." "But thats diffrent." Jayce laughs as Viktor opens the door to the appartment building for him. "Is it now?" Viktor hums as Jayce unlockes the flat. "Isent it?" Jayce responds faking heart brake. "I mean, you are a classmate that I live with." Viktor reasons. "But you like living with me." Jayce smirks as he starts rummaging through the cabnits. "Hm." Vik hums as he lays his bag on his bed and starts taking out his home work. "Dont you?" Jayce says starting to dig into a bad of chips. "I suppose so. And dont eat all of thoes." Jayce smiles at that. "Would you rather cook?" Viktor thinks about it for a moment. "No. Order in, I have, eh a lot of work to do." "Homework?" Jayce asks placeing an order for there regular meals. "Mhm, and some personal studies." Jayce nods looking up at Viktor. "What kind of personal studies?" Viktor pulls off his sweater in favor of his "homosexual tendencies" t- shirt. He tried not to smile when he sees Jayce blush. "The normal kind." Jayce smiles and hands Viktor a hoodie knowing he gets cold. "Good luck saving the world, V. Ill text you when the food gets here." Viktor smile as Jayce once again proves how perfect he is. Trading his black jeans and stability brace for ball shorts and a fabric brace, he climbs into bed and opens his laptop. The image of him and Jayce doing some cheap face masks they got greet him. He hates to admit that he likes Jayce, and he wont unless directly asked. After a few minutes he hears his phone buzz but ignores it favor of a study about low life expectancy in low income areas.

Jayce lays all the food out on the coffee table and checks to see if Viktor has responded. When he sees he hasent Jayce decides to go get him. "V? Food's here." Viktor pushes his glasses up by rubbing his eyes. "Ah, yes. Sorry." Jayce gives a sentimental smile "No problem." After a moment they are both sitting on the couch food in hand and scrolling through tv. "Hey, V?" "Hm?" Viktor responds a mouthful of food. "...I dont see you as another classmate." Jayce confesses not making eye contact. "What do you mean, Jayce?" Viktor asks trying to decipher what exactly Jayce ment. "I mean, I feel close to you. I like you." Viktor laughs "Thats a relief, it would suck if you hated your flat mate-" "Viktor. I like, you." Jayce says more firmly looking at the other man now. "Oh." Viktor says quietly. "I..Im not good at talking about feelings but..I like you too."

A/N: i kinda lost modivation for this ive had a long day, but if you want more of this au or if you have any advice please shoot me an ask. Im always looking for inspo and mutuals.

[666anxiety666]

hrrr.rr.r..more ler swansea and lee daisuke.,......

maube like.. cheer up twords..... i think daisuke was a little anxious when they first got on the ship cuz . being in space is scary...... n swansea distracts him / cheers him up with twords...... ok have a good day

@bug-twords

YESYESYES!

I've got ya.

Mouthwashing tickle fic

LEE: Daisuke LER: Swansea

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

Daisuke was normally an enthusiastic person, but his nerves were making him a mess. Him? In space? Away from his friends and family? His mom? Daisuke hated it. He hated every part of it. But he wanted to make his mother proud.

everyone on the ship had started to take notice. first it was Curly who noticed. "Daisuke?" Daisuke jumped when he heard his name further up the hall. he hadn't even noticed he had been zoned out with his back to the wall. his head shot up. "c-captain..." Daisuke stammered. "s-sorry, just daydreaming again. I-I'll just get back to work... see ya!" and before Curly could get another word in, Daisuke was heading off the opposite direction down the hall. leaving Curly confused and a little worried.

after that, it didn't take long for the rest of the crew to show a slight concern for the young intern. he was in fact the youngest on board, so they felt responsible for him in some way. and it didn't take long for the word to spread to Swansea. but by then, he had already noticed it in Daisuke's behavior.

it had only been a days after take off and Daisuke was sitting in the living area. "you'll be fine, Daisuke... just think, you'll make mom really... r-really proud..." Daisuke mumbled to himself, his legs bouncing. his hands was very sweaty. what the hell was wrong with him?! he was normally so enthusiastic about things... but not this...

"Daisuke..." Daisuke's head snapped up. Swansea was standing in the doorway. "S-Swansea!" Daisuke instantly sat up straighter. Swansea huffed, walking over and sitting next to his young intern. "you're not in any trouble kid..." Swansea mumbled gruffly. Daisuke was still pretty tense.

"you know... the crew has noticed you've been very on edge lately. but no one had to tell me twice..." Swansea mentioned, looking over at Daisuke, who met his eyes. Daisuke didn't look at Swansea. he rubbed the back of his neck. "so come on... tell me what's up, kid." Swansea sat back. waiting patently for Daisuke would respond.

Daisuke was quiet for a moment. "just... I-I think I just... I don't think I'm cut out for this..." Daisuke stammered. Swansea raised an eyebrow. "what do you mean you're not cut out for this?" "I can't do this... I-I miss home. I can't do this job right, I keep messing up and I've only been here a few days!" Daisuke exclaimed. he seemed to be getting a little distressed.

Daisuke paused, he couldn't look at Swansea. he felt like such a failure already. he should never have come on this ship! at least that's what was going through Daisuke's head. he stopped rambling in his mind when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Daisuke's head shot up and locked eye's with Swansea.

"kid..." Swansea sighed. thinks about what to say next. "I know we got off rough... and sure, you can mess up from time to time..." Swansea continued. "but that's what I'm here for, to teach you... and sure, I can be hard on you. but I see it in you that you really wanna be somethin'... but you all ready are, kid." Swansea let out a gruff chuckle, ruffling Daisuke's hair.

Daisuke blinked a few times. "you mean that?" Daisuke asked. Swansea chuckled once more. "yeah... but don't get used to it!" Daisuke chuckled once more, pushing Swansea's hand on his head. "too late!" Swansea rolled his eye's "the hell am I gonna do with you?" Swansea reached out, poking the younger boys side.

Daisuke jumped. letting out a yelp. "S-Swansea...!" Daisuke whined, covering his side instantly. Swansea grinned. "huh, guess now i know..." Swansea didn't waste anytime digging his fingers into Daisuke's sides with both hands. Daisuke squealed instantly, trying to ran away, but only fell back onto onto the couch. his body jumping in surprise.

"Swansehehea! ehehahaha! nohoho!" Swansea grinned. "what? I need to do somethin' about that attuite..." Swansea switched up to poking and prodding. his hands wondering around over Daisuke's sides and ribs. making Daisuke jump at every poke. "S-Swahahansea! cohohohome ohon!" Daisuke giggled.

Swansea smirked. "plehehease! IhI didn't mehehean ihit!" "you're a little late for that kid..!" Swansea moved his hands down to Daisuke's tummy. Daisuke squealed louder. caught of guard by the sudden change. his legs kicked weakly and hands shot down to grab at Swansea's hands. "NAHAHA- SWAHAHANSEA!" Daisuke's face had started to turn pink.

"Jesus. kid. how sensitive are ya?" Swansea teased. using his hand as a claw on Daisuke's tummy, vibrating slightly. Daisuke's legs kicked a little more. Swansea had to use a leg to pin them down effectively. "PLEHEHEASE! IHI'M SOHOHORRY!" Daisuke cackled, unable to control his laughter. "sorry for what? huh? maybe you shouldn't be talkin' shit about yourself..." Swansea's hands wondered down to Daisuke's hips.

in an instant, Daisuke was screaming. his reaction was sudden, even surprising Swansea. "NAHA- WAHAHAIT! I-IHIH CAHAHAN'T! SWAHAHAHANSEA!" Daisuke practically screamed and his body jumped on contact. the whole ship could probably hear him. Swansea chuckled in surprise. "Jesus, kid. it can't be that bad, can it?" Daisuke couldn't even answer properly, just screaming and cackling as he tried oh so desperately to push Swansea away.

"IHIT IHIHIS! IHIIHIT IS! PLEHEHEASE!" Daisuke let out a scream and threw his head back as Swansea drilled his thumbs into Daisuke's hips. "hm... I don't know, kid... are you gonna stop being all sulky?" Swansea asked. massaging the younger mans hips. Daisuke was barely able to get the words out through his giggles. "OHOKAY! OHOHOKAY! IHI WILL! IHIHI SWEHEHEAR!" Daisuke squealed.

Swansea huffed and finally pulled away, sitting up right once more and leaving Daisuke panting on the couch. the poor kids face and ears bright red. before Swansea could ask Daisuke if he was okay, the door to the living area slid open. "is everything okay in here? I heard screaming..." Anya stood at the door, Curly and jimmy standing behind her.

Swansea looked up at the door. he huffed and waved his hand dismissively. "just teaching the kid a lesson, nothing to worry about..." Daisuke was still panting on the couch. his hair a little messy and he hugged his stomach. the three at the door just blinked for a moment. Jimmy shrugged and walked away with a small smirk. while Anya and Curly chuckled a little before following him.

Swansea looked down at Daisuke. the kid had sat up now and had calmed down a little. "you okay, kid?" Swansea asked. Daisuke nodded. "y-yeah... I think so..." Daisuke lay back on the couch. "you feeling a little better?" "yeah... thanks Swansea..." Daisuke rubbed the back of his neck. "anytime, kid..." Swansea smiled a little. "now come on..!" Swansea stood. "we got work to do..." Daisuke jumped up. "yes sir!" Daisuke exclaimed and walked off in front of Swansea. Swansea huffed a small laugh. "Damn kid..."

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

yippee! told yall I'd have one done!

art by @pileoftrshley on instagram

[vroombeams]

oooh rent to own intrigues me 👀

hey buddy wanna buy a wip

rent to own!! the fic that was meant to be a kinktober fill for an android prompt and then i got emotionally invested as is traditional!!!

the og concept was just... android oscar, mechanic lando, oscar having some internal troubles like just this twisted cable that lando had to reeeach inside and untangle and then he got weird and horny about it you know. standard stuff. but THEN it started to grow legs and now it's just under 5k words and people have backstories and problems and feelings. hate that

basically lando's this anxiety-ridden social recluse in the not-so-distant future, he works from home doing graphic design and is like a hobby artist on the side? big sufferer of burnout, mildly agoraphobic, generally having kind of a bad time. he lives with max (fewtrell) with whom he has an on-again-off-again sexual relationship but it's pretty toxic in the sense that max is in a long distance relationship (with p) so the hookups are often like. soured. of course

SOOOO max goes away to visit p and is worried about lando being alone in the apartment because he's been worse lately, but conveniently their mutual friend is also going out of town so they hatch a 'sneaky' plan to have the friend's android stay with lando for a couple of weeks. they of course tell lando it's because the android needs looking after when well that certainly is not the case

anyway lando spends a couple of weeks with oscar the android. lando learns things about himself. they still have the moment of lando untangling one of oscar's wires for him and it being hornier than it has any right to be. otherwise it's a lot of sad starcrossed vibes i suppose!!!!

clip under the cut!!

Lando only sees Oscar once after the groceries are all done, and that’s because Oscar comes tip-toeing into his room to bring him food again. This time Lando’s gotten maybe half a sketch out of his brain and onto a page. It’s not exactly a victory, but he’s chipping away at something, finally.

“That’s nice,” Oscar says, setting a bowl of microwave something-or-other a safe distance from Lando’s keyboard. 

Lando grunts, more than responds. He imagines Oscar’s voice sounds patronizing, condescending. Like oh, what a lovely picture, Lando. It’ll go right on the fridge.

It’s so rude of him to think that way, isn’t it? So unkind to assume Oscar’s immediately judging him or critiquing him. That’s what his old therapist might've told him, anyway. 

“Sorry,” Lando says.

Oscar says, “What?”

Lando doesn’t move for a second, pencil poised at the edge of a kneecap taking shape on the page. His stomach quivers, trembles like an upset pudding.

Christ, he’s a mess.

“Nothing,” Lando says. “Thanks. Thank you.”

[bbearthyy]

B!TCH IM A MOTHER

Yah i’m back with another TWD blurb. this has plot at least. sorta. anyways no TW cause i don’t think it’s necessary but if anyone finds something i might need to put a warning for lemme know. this is first person POV tho. it was kinda hard to write in an x reader format.

{•_•}

am i a mother? absolutely i am. have i given birth to any children? well…no.

i’m not even completely sure when it started.

maybe it was at the farm. when i was fussing at daryl about taking care of himself and accepting help.

“dammit daryl when are you going to accept the fact that we care about you?! i get it, okay? seriously i do. better than anyone. it’s hard to accept love when you’ve never felt it before. but i, along with the rest of the group, don’t want you on your own anymore. please, just let us help you.” daryl just stared at me silently for a while, trying desperately to ignore the tears in his eyes. i couldn’t tell if the tears were from my words or because i yelled at him, in front of the entire group no less. but he didn’t take too long to respond. a mumbled “yes, mama,” fell from his lips, before he was walking to his separate camp to bring his belongings inside with the rest of us.

or maybe it was after the fact, when we were on the road after the barn fell.

when we had found a small river and the women were cleaning ourselves and i insisted the men let me fix their hair. glenn laughed with a mumbled, “sorry, mom,” when he splashed me with the water. i gave him a harsh flick on the back of his ear, “don’t do it again, glenn.”

or maybe it was before all of that, when we had first formed our group.

“merle dixon if you scare these children like that again i swear i’ll beat you black and blue!” the redneck knew better than to bother the children, yet he’d snuck up on them today, jumping out from behind a tree and roaring at them. he just chuckled at my comment, as if he couldn’t take me seriously. “what are you, my mother?” but his laughter quickly faded when he saw the look on my face, ducking his head and walking away silently.

anyways, whenever it began, i didn’t really mind it. the word didn’t hold any serious meaning behind it, simply used in a joking manner. until it was serious. until we were in the prison and carl came running into my cell crying every time he had a nightmare, when he would sob so hard he couldn’t breathe and i’d just shush him and hold him, rocking gently side to side. when he started mumbling “goodnight mama” or “love you mama” or “sweet dreams mama” before falling unconscious. when he’d say, “thanks mom,” when i brushed his hair every morning or when i helped him with words he didn’t know while reading or consoled him after an argument with his dad.

when i’d clean daryl’s injuries every time he got hurt on a run. and in the quiet solitude of my cell he’d let a couple silent tears fall from how gently i took care of him. and when i’d kiss his forehead and send him on his way after, he’d wipe his tears and whisper a barely audible, “thanks ma,” on his way out.

and when the people of woodbury joined the prison and carl was given the job of introducing everyone to our group. and not a single soul could remember my name, but they knew that i was mom or mama or whatever mother figure they needed me to be.

and when nights got too quiet and rick couldn’t handle the weight of the world on his shoulders, and i’d walk into his cell and he’d fall to his knees in front of me. he’d press his face into my stomach while he cried, and i’d run my fingers through his hair and whisper soft reassurances. and through his tears he’d cry, “i just can’t do it mama, it’s too much.” and i’d rock him too, and praise him gently, the same soft way i cared for his son.

and when the prison fell and the group met back together at terminus. and i was in a train cart with people i knew and people i didn’t. and when the introductions came to an end and all heads turned to me. and i was quiet for a moment until carl pointed and said “that’s mama. everyone calls her that. don’t ask her name ‘cause she’ll tell you a fake one since um b’cause she doesn’t know you.” and those that did know me nodded in agreement.

and maybe i did care, maybe the weight of the word pressed heavy on my chest because i knew i couldn’t have children of my own. but i had plenty of people to care for anyways. i had my own family. and i was a mama. whether they were mine or not.

[steeklover]

hi lis! hope u are doing okay, another random fact that i just realized about south park because of some posts are the lowkey potential of the tweek and cartman dynamic! i tried to embed the links to the posts for credit? but its basically how chaotic cartman is helps with tweek's anxiety by @hatsunevitu and specially this translation of a comic by @muffin-chan-kaw-blog (basically cartman saying to tweek that, bc he is kenny's replacement, he is going to be his new bff) and imma need a pt.2

Hi anon, I am doing well and I hope you are doing the same! I am so sorry for just now answering these but once again, you have very good taste!

I actually saw both of those posts and I loved them! They were spot on in my opinion and the comic was so cute! And @hatsunevitu, is so cool, they seem really nice!

Carteek as I like to call them is one of my favorite friendships. I'm not going to lie, I used to kind of ship them but I like the idea of a platonic relationship between them much more as of right now. I wrote a whole essay about their relationship based on the little screentime they got together in the show and while I think the logic behind most of what I said is kind of flawed, I think it's still worth sharing.

WHY I THINK CARTEEK IS THE MOST REASNOABLE, HEALTHY CARTMAN SHIP - An Essay

Just a disclaimer, I don't actually think it's the most reasonable/healthy relationship anymore, I don't even think I thought that way when I first wrote it, I was just being dramatic with the title to make it more appealing lol 😂 don't come at me

[i-like-forcefem]

You wake up due to a an odd discomfort around your groin, you feel around and touch something soft and plastic?

You turn on the lights and find yourself lock in a small, pink chastity cage

You panic a little, you’ve never done this before, you try to pull it off and it won’t budge and you notice just how little you can touch your member now

You get hard

It hurts

You look around the room and see an envelope next to a small pile of clothes and some odd plastic?

You open the envelope

My dearest love,

You wronged me, the fact you wouldn’t know who I am makes it that much worse

So I thought it’d only be right if I punished you

As you might’ve found out already I’ve securely locked you up and only I have the key

If you ever want it back you’ll need to do some things for me first

Mod course you won’t be allowed to touch your memeber until I release you

Next you will need to wear the clothes, and insert the remote anal vibrator I provided to you

You will then need to watch any porngraphic content I send you over the course of the next 2 weeks, dressed up and wearing the plug

I’ve made a separate number where we can chat

I expect you to use the proper respect when talking to me

I expect you to thank me for teaching you how to be a good girl

And I expect you to drop whatever you’re doing whenever I send you a message, and if I so ask you’ll put on the shuttle clothes I gave you, put in the plug, and watch whatever degrading smut I sent you while I control your ass

Do this like a good girl for 2 weeks and I’ll take off the cage

Mess up once, and I’ll flush the key down the drain

Oh and don’t think to get it removed or anything, I got that onto you without you noticing once, and if you get it off I’ll know that means you’re ready for your second round!

And trust me you wouldn’t like the second round, something tells me that you’d hate losing your freedom of movement

So now be a good girl and dress yourself up already love~

I’m waiting

Oh! And one more thing!

I can and will change the rules at any time, for example one I thought of right now: the two weeks only count down if you spent the whole day in cute woman’s clothing, so if you ever put on those nasty clothes you’re wearing right now, the day doesn’t count and you still have 2 weeks to go

Good luck cutie! Try to keep me happy~