#and i hate it so much because i should just study but its eating at me having to live up to what everyone thinks i can do

[sleepless-crows]

.

[blitzyn]

relax

alhaitham x m!reader

Request: well, since requests are open, perhaps I could request an alhaitham X male s/o where s/o has been really stressed lately with school and has been overworking himself. Because of this, alhaitham being the caring boyfriend he is comes to comfort and relax his beloved s/o with sex and aftercare. If possible, pls let alhaitham call his s/o a 'good boy' and just a praise kink in general, tysm!! 💕 — @ezraelo

a/n -> this mf reminds me of my dad so i kinda wrote what I think he'd say if i was in reader's situation tbh. NOT THE SEX THOUGH. anyways pgr fic first then hate sex w/childe next its been decades since I've done him (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠) sigh sometimes i forget i don’t have to write so damn much

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> soft alhaitham (heart eyes pt2), anal fingering, anal sex, praise, not beta read

merry christmas and happy holidays!!

To say you were tired was an understatement—you were exhausted. Stressed. Angry. It felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

First, you accidentally woke up late, was scolded by your teacher when you arrived and made the "perfect" example on what a scholar from the Akademiya should not be. Then you had to study for several hours for a few of your upcoming exams and evaluations—all while having to take some more tests the following week.

And as if that wasn't e-fucking-nough, you had done horribly on one of your essays so now you had to redo it for a better score, on top of needing to start yet another one regarding... Something. You forgot what the prompt was. Honestly, you forgot to do a lot of things. Like eat. Or drink water. Which was something that really didn't help to improve your mood.

You stumbled through the door trying to pry your uniform off, haphazardly tossing your hat to the side. You felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and stay in there for the rest of your miserable life. But, like the universe was trying to give you the biggest middle finger ever, one of the loops on your clothes got caught on the corner of a counter. While you'd normally just take it off and go on your merry way, you weren't having it today and just yanked yourself forward, tearing the loop and the fabric it was connected to.

Finally making it to your room, you flopped on the bed face-first, muffling the loud groan that came from you. You stayed like that for a moment longer before turning your head, remembering to breathe deeply.

Two knocks came from the door. "You okay?" Your boyfriend, Alhaitham, asked, leaning against the frame as he stared at you.

"You're smart. Figure it out yourself," you muttered bitterly, wincing at the accusatory tone in your voice. You sighed, deciding to face him. "Sorry."

He shrugged, walking to sit on the edge of your shared bed. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his expression unchanging even when he watched your brows furrow in irritation.

"It's just... Ugh," you grumbled, rolling your eyes childishly. "Just a bad week. It feels like everything's going against me." You rolled onto your back, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. "I don't think I can catch up."

"You're in the Akademiya," Alhaitham said, giving you a look that made it seem like he didn't know why you were complaining. "Obviously it's going to be hard for you."

"'For you,'" you repeated, glaring at nothing in particular, but it was getting increasingly evident that you were beginning to direct your anger towards him. "Of course you don't get it. You've been smart your whole life."

He was quiet for a moment, letting you try to calm yourself before speaking again. "Don't sell yourself short like that. It's unhealthy."

You huffed. "It's not selling myself short if it's actually true." You pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw faint fireworks coloring the darkness. "I have to redo an essay because apparently it didn't go with damn prompt. Then I have to do another one, and I don't even know where to start, and—" you listed off your problems, your voice getting higher in pitch until you were on the verge of shedding tears, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of work you accidentally accumulated.

"Hey," he interrupted you, leaning to place a hand on your thigh. "Calm down." He gave you an unimpressed look when you snapped your mouth open to retort, watching you begrudgingly close it in defeat. "Breathe. You're getting worked up over things you can change."

But when you could hardly focus on utilizing the breathing techniques he taught you, he decided to take a different approach. "Let's have sex, then."

"What? Why? 'Cause of the post-nut clarity?" You sighed, rubbing your temple to stave off the impending headache after staring at him incredulously. Damn. Sometimes you forget how straightforward he could be.

Alhaitham gave you a look. It was deadpan—because when was it not?—but you could still sense the slightest bit of confusion. "If that's how you want to word it, yes," he said, before elaborating. "Sex can also help you relax and improve your immune system."

He quickly looked you up and down, and despite not saying anything, you knew what he was trying to imply. You looked like a mess.

"It can also help improve your quality of sleep," he added, crossing his arms against his chest. "It has a few other benefits than just feeling good, you know." He watched you ponder his suggestion, chewing on your lip absentmindedly before giving in with a sigh.

"Fine. But you're doing all the work," you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.

"That was the plan." The corners of his lips quirked up in a brief, subtle smirk as he leaned to place his hands on your shoulders to gently push you back down. "Just relax."

He continued when you nodded, running his hands along your body, gently caressing every curve and contour of your frame. An eyebrow raised in question when he felt the torn patch in your clothes but decided against mentioning it as he guided you out of your suffocating uniform with practiced ease. Already, you seemed a bit calmer than earlier, giving yourself a well-deserved stretch that made you remind him of a cat.

You felt the tension beginning to seep out of your body with every article of clothing that was carelessly tossed to the floor, reaching your hands out to tug him closer. He obliged without hesitation, sighing in satisfaction when he melded his lips with yours. His hands slid below your underclothes, snaking them upwards until they found your chest. He tweaked and pinched your nipples as he moved his way downwards, placing kisses along your jawline and neck.

You softly moaned, brushing your fingers through his hair that had him leaning into your hand. He removed your shirt, trailing appreciative kisses down your sternum. A hand made its way down your front toward your pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap his fingers around your flaccid dick. Your breath hitched, instinctively widening your legs to give him better access, much to his pleasure.

He was gentle; his hands were soft and careful, and neither of you were in a rush. You felt your eyes flutter shut as your lips parted with every quiet gasp and sigh that left you, and he couldn't help but stare.

It annoyed him how little you thought of yourself when he could clearly see you as something more. Sure, it irked him how you complained about things that could easily be changed if you put your effort into it, but you were also right. He always had it academically easy and often found it hard to connect with others or understand their problems on a level that wasn't with you. He was well aware of this issue, knowing that it often hindered his ability to comfort, and—for the first time in how long?—it frustrated him.

Even if he had no idea how to properly soften his words around you or to consistently change his facial expressions, he always showed he cared by spending time with you, teaching you new things, or helping you understand foreign concepts. But even then, he was willing to try to tell you that you were more than what those pompous Akademiya professors reduced you to, that you were better than what you said you were.

"Look at me," he said, his voice soft and smooth, coaxing your pretty eyes open. He slipped his hands out of your shirt and cupped your cheeks tenderly, ensuring your focus on him. "It doesn't matter what everyone says about you when they don't understand that you have strengths that rest beyond the traditional Akademiya expectations."

"But that doesn't—"

He gave you yet another stern look, to which you quieted down with a huff. "It's okay to struggle. Everyone does at some point. Even those professors found something difficult before they became what they are. But you know what they did?"

He paused, gauging your reaction. He was aware that what he was saying probably didn't make you feel better or make the most sense, but he hoped that you could feel the sincerity in his voice. "They took a step back, took a deep breath, and figured out what they were doing wrong. They didn't do that overnight or by working themselves to the bone. That's what you need to acknowledge."

"But all my other colleagues are doing fine, and I'm the only one struggling..." You appreciated his words, truly, but they did little to quell your worries.

"Are you? How do you know that for sure?" He countered, sliding his hands down to caress your hips. He watched you pursed your lips, squirming slightly under his gaze. "Point is, you shouldn't try to compare yourself to everyone around you and overwork yourself because that only leads to bad work and a bigger hole for you to climb out of. You have everything else to be proud of—not just your academic qualities. Understand? Besides, you made it into the Akademiya. That's something very few people can do in the first place."

You looked away with a frown, but you nodded softly. Even though it sucked knowing that you weren't the best, he did have a point. Wallowing in your own failure did nothing to better yourself, as much as you hated to admit it.

"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling a little. His thumbs swiped underneath your eyes, clearing away any of the tears that happened to escape you.

"Don't let them define you. Define yourself," he said finally, leaning back down to kiss you again. It was soft, tender, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of affection he harbored for you. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Do you still want to do this?"

You nodded again, giving him a quick peck to the lips before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Mhm. I really need those benefits." Plus, you didn't favor being horny and sad.

Your lips curved in a smug grin when you saw his own quirk upwards in amusement, but he didn't comment on it. He sat up to tug your pants and underwear down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You shivered instinctively but kept your focus on him, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.

He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers before pressing one into your hole. You sighed, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. He only offered a few pumps of his hand before adding a second one in, gently spreading them apart in a scissoring motion.

He wrapped his free hand around your cock, slowly jerking you off. He rubbed his thumb over the tip to smear the precum across your skin as wet sounds gradually filled the room. You noticed his eyes locked on your face and the expressions you wore, committing them to memory. He added a third finger for good measure, feeling you tense reflexively before relaxing just as fast.

"You're doing so good, [Name]," he praised, his voice low. He curled his fingers, pressing them against your prostate. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of your moan, straining against the fabric. "I'm almost done. Then we can start."

You nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose when he began targeting the sensitive spot inside you. You could practically feel every surge of heat shoot up and down your spine, ending at your fingertips. Alhaitham could feel it too, every time your cock throbbed in his hold.

Your body felt warm and tingly when he moved both hands away from your body, wiping them off using a few tissues atop your nightstand. He grabbed the lube again and poured some on his palm to coat his cock, using his free hand to spread one of your thighs a bit wider. He peered up through his lashes, subtly raising an eyebrow in question. He continued as soon as you nodded, slowly pushing himself inside you.

You both let out a satisfied groan as he filled you, grasping onto his wrists as he held onto your hips.

"Fuck," he hissed, pushing further until he bottomed out completely. "You're such a good boy. You're taking me in so well." He perked up in attention when he felt you tighten at his words, noting how your eyes fluttered shut like you were savoring them. He wasn't overly aware of this newfound information, but maybe you had accidentally brought it to his attention now that you're stressed?

Either way, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to continue. “You feel so good, [Name]," he praised, leaning down to press his lips against the skin underneath your earlobe. You could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He let you take a moment to adjust to him before moving, gently thrusting his hips.

You noticed him moving away again as you opened your eyes, finding yourself enamored with the way his muscles flexed in every movement of his. Soft gasps and moans left your lips when you looked up, instantly noticing his gaze on you.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled shyly, squirming a bit. It wasn’t that you hated having him look at you—frankly, that’s all you longed for sometimes, it’s just that what you did hit you. Being as vulnerable as you were wasn’t something you preferred, even when Alhaitham didn’t berate you for it.

“You were staring at me, first,” he countered swiftly, and you could hear the rare undertone of his amusement in his voice. It was your favorite sound. “Besides, what’s the harm in looking at the most handsome man in Sumeru?” His monotony nearly made his words laughable, but you could see that he was genuinely trying. Knowing that sent butterflies in your stomach all over again.

You looked away, effectively flustered with all his attention. “It’s embarrassing…”

“Only because you make it embarrassing,” he said, sliding a hand upwards to toy with one of your nipples. He subtly shifted his hips, angling them so that his cock better pressed against your prostate. He watched you intently when you let out a throaty moan, feeling his dick throb inside you.

You reflexively clenched your thighs tighter against his hips, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You snaked a hand down to your leaking cock, wrapping your fingers around the base to give it a squeeze. “You can go faster,” you muttered, looking down to watch the way he slid in and out of you.

He nodded with a quiet hum, adjusting his grip on your waist to shift the weight on his knees to sacrifice his slower, deeper thrusts for quick and shallow ones. Moaning, you jerked yourself off in time with his movements, unable to tear your gaze away from him, even for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you brought your free hand up to bring him closer to you by the back of his head. You kissed him needily and fervently, letting out noises that mixed in with the wet sounds that came from your hole. Your body rocked gently, listening intently to the rustling of your bedsheets and Alhaitham’s deep, husky breaths.

Suddenly, he lifted a hand up to place over your abdomen, lightly pushing down on it just as he buried himself balls deep inside you. He paused for a moment, sighing as he watched you squirm at the sudden stop before continuing, feeling himself move in and out of you. You could feel the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust to your prostate, back arching, legs tightening around his waist.

“Fuck, I’m…” you panted, clenching tighter around his cock. “I’m so close, ‘Haitham.”

“I know. I can feel you,” he said, gently moving your hand away from your leaking cock to wrap his fingers around it. Quiet slaps mixed in with your soft noises and his breathy grunts as he fucked you a bit harder, eyes fixated on the blissful expression on in your face. His dick throbbed inside you as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm, leaning down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing up towards your ear.

“C’mon, [Name], cum for me,” he whispered, sending yet another wave of heat shoot up and down your spine. You could hardly stop the stream of moans that spilled from your lips as he focused on the tip of your cock, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot just below it, as if trying to coax out your cum.

“Oh god,” your voice was strained as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten to an unbearable degree, trying to hold out just a little longer. “F—Fuck! Alhaitham!” You moaned in ecstasy when you finally came, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. You tensed and trembled as your dick spurt cum on your stomach and his fingers as he helped you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful when you orgasm,” he groaned, his thrusts beginning to lose rhythm as he neared his own climax. He dug his fingers into your waist tighter, muttering praises into your ear when you began squirming at the discomfort of your overstimulation. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as he stilled, gritting his teeth when he quickly pulled out to stroke himself to completion. He sighed in satisfaction when his orgasm subsided, leaving your abdomen coated in ropes of his cum.

“Wh—Why did you pull out?” You panted, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.

“Isn’t it annoying to clean up afterward? You're always complaining about it whenever we have sex,” he questioned after a moment, taking a second to bask in the afterglow before getting up to reach for a tissue to clean your skin. He put his pants back on, gathering your clothes to put them in a laundry basket.

You shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. But I’m gonna take a bath either way.” You blinked in confusion when you saw him quirk a brow, fidgeting a bit when he didn’t stop staring at you.

“No. You’re going to sit and wait here while I make you something to eat, first,” he instructed, leaving no room for negotiation. “Afterwards, you’re going to go to sleep. Then you can take a bath when you wake up.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly, quickly reminding you that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. "But then I'm gonna be all sticky and gross when I eat," you said, knowing how much he disliked having dirty bedsheets for too long. It surprised you when he shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to decide.

"If you want to take a bath first, then I'll help you," he offered. You swiftly nodded, wanting to eat clean and comfortably. He nodded and told you to wait for a moment as he prepared the water for you, leaving you by yourself for a while until he returned. The two of you walked into the bathroom where a bathtub of warm water awaited you. But just as you raised your leg to enter, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. Luckily, Alhaitham was there to keep you from falling with a firm hand on your arm, carefully helping you into the water.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes darting across your face for any sign of distress. He relaxed upon seeing nothing but waited for your response for further confirmation.

"Yeah. It's just something that happens when I get too hungry, y'know?" You explained sheepishly, splashing some of the water onto your arms and back.

"No, I don't know." He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. "I'll be right back, then."

You hummed to yourself, not minding his absence as you savored the warmth surrounding you, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You nearly fell asleep in the time it took for Alhaitham to return, jumping in surprise at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," he spoke, returning to your side with a bowl in his hand. "Eat this for now."

He kneeled down, bringing the bowl close enough to let you reach in and take whatever was inside. They were fruits, you saw as you happily grabbed one, tossing it into your mouth. You had to stop yourself from grabbing a handful and eating it all in one go, forcing yourself to appreciate every bite. You noticed him shifting behind you, leaning forward instinctively when he began cleaning your back with a small, wet towel.

The two of you basked in the comforting silence for a while as you let him take care of you until you turned your head to face him. "I love you," you said with a little grin.

"I know," he replied, putting the bowl onto the floor.

"Say it back." You pouted, but you knew he was only teasing.

His mouth quirked up in a faint smile, leaning forward to give you a quick peck on your lips. "I love you too."

[ms-demeanor]

Going off that post about nutrition and science, I'd love to hear what you think of the 5:2 diet/The Fast 800 and its creator, Dr. Michael Mosley. For context: in order to get an NHS-funded breast reduction (it's a gender thing, but also just a general quality-of-life thing), I need to be a certain BMI, so I've been referred to a weight management clinic. The lady I've been seeing initially just put me on a low-carb diet (130g or less of carbs per day, with an aside from her about how bullshit Keto and BMI limits for treatment are), but now she's said that, if I wanted to speed up the weight loss, I should include the 5:2 diet: 5 days in a week where I eat "normally", and 2 fast days in which I restrict myself to 800kcals. I did a little looking into it myself, and found that 5:2 - which I HAD heard about before - is now being sold as part of "The Fast 800", with Dr. Mosley being the creator of it. I was shocked by that, because I was already a fan of Dr. Mosley's work (he has a podcast called "Just One Thing" that I really liked, and thought contained reasonable-sounding advice), and yet having a diet plan that he's clearly making money off of does immediately make me feel suspicious. I've borrowed his "The Fast 800" book from the library, both to find out more about the diet I've been put on and to see if it's at all backed by evidence, and he does cite a bunch of scientific studies which seem to back up his ideas, but I don't know how valid they are, and I don't just want to accept them at face-value (especially since he's a "we got fat completely wrong in the 80s, therefore we should eat a Mediterranean diet!" types). Obviously I'll go with what my weight management lady suggests, since she's obviously more qualified to talk about it than I am, but I am curious to know what you think, and whether I'm right to be distrustful of all of this.

I am, generally speaking, against any diet for rapid weight loss. They're not sustainable so people gain the weight back (often with more weight getting added on).

There have also recently been findings that suggest that BMI cutoffs for top surgery are detrimental to patients as patients in higher BMI categories are more likely to have minor complications like UTIs or to be readmitted, but are not likely to have major complications or be at risk of significant harm from having top surgery. I don't know if anybody will listen if you bring up that study, and I know that GCS is fraught in many places for many reasons.

I'm also just.

I'm so mad. I'm so fucking mad! I'm so mad about this!

One of my best friends is a guy who was pressured into a pattern of disordered eating and unhealthy exercise in order to qualify for top surgery; since then he has not been able to eat in a healthy way and has struggled with alternating between exercising to the point of harm and other destructive behaviors that make him unhappy and unsafe. And he didn't need that. He didn't need any of that! He needed a very safe surgery that had perhaps a slightly higher risk of minor complications at his size and instead he got top surgery and an eating disorder! I hate it! I'm so fucking mad about it!

Also as near as I can tell Michael Mosley qualified as a psychiatrist in the 90s, spent very little time working as a psychiatrist, and then became a media personality. From what is visible on his website and every biography I've found for him he apparently doesn't have any background in nutrition beyond whatever is standard for someone in medical school (which is NOT MUCH).

Hey I just looked at his website and this is straight-up fucked up.

Anybody recommending an 800 calorie a day diet for 2-12 weeks in a context that is not heavily medically supervised can fucking choke. That is *ridiculously* dangerous and the website says that this can improve insulin resistance but there are a shitload of studies about people on crash diets like this *developing* insulin resistance (oh hey like my friend who became prediabetic after his rapid significant weight loss).

Also in regard to the studies he cites on the website, the "two years later patients are still going strong in their diabetes improvements" it's really important to put shit like that in context

at 5 years 13% of the original intervention group were in remission from their type two diabetes; the average weight loss experienced by the intervention group as a whole was 6.1kg compared to 4.6kg in the control group. That's 1.5kg lower for the people who went through a twelve week medically supervised very low calorie diet compared. That's an average difference of 3.3 pounds between "starvation diet" and "no diet" for the Americans in the audience.

Yours is the second comment I've seen that has been leery of the Mediterranean diet, btw, and the Mediterranean diet is fine. It's very achievable and not super gimmicky and is based on very reasonable reassessments of fat, not the hardcore "you are fine to eat 100g of fat a day" kind of attitude that you get from the keto crew. There isn't really one Mediterranean diet and it certainly isn't low carb (which the bits from Mosely's website seem to indicate it is).

So, no, honestly I don't think much of Mosely and I'm very sorry you're in this situation, that sucks and I hate that they're refusing you treatment until you undergo an exceptionally difficult and potentially harmful weight loss excursion.

I know you're probably stuck with that and it's bullshit and I think it fucking sucks and unfortunately the medical advice you're likely to get is "eat in a significantly disordered manner at least until it is time for surgery" and it blows. That just fucking sucks.

If you're looking for rapid weight loss that you don't plan to sustain (and you shouldn't plan to sustain it, it won't stay off) you may want to look into body building forums for how they discuss cuts. It's still disordered eating and it's still not healthy, but at least they're effective and can tell you what supplements will keep you from becoming malnourished while you prepare for surgery. This is a terrible idea. I don't actually want to give this advice to anyone but bodybuilders are the exact kind of people who know how far and how fast they can push weight loss while having an awareness that it isn't really good for them and it won't stay off.

I cannot overstate enough how much I hate the thought that people are being encouraged to rapidly starve themselves in order to prepare to recover from surgery. I am so sorry and I'm so mad and

[shalomniscient]

hihi sev! i adore ur work sm oml can i req an enemies to lovers with zoya? :D (pretty basic im sorry auahag)

but imagine, reader in a rival gang or maybe she’s a salva doctor. but either way they DESPISE each other. a heated battle or argument eventually blooms into sexual tension?? (i’m so bad at wording this i apologize)

OH ANON I HAVE IDEAS (or well. one idea specifically BUT I CAN WAFFLE) FOR THIS ONE 👀👀👀

what is this feeling? || zoya x reader

cw. petnames (princess), sexual tension (?)

notes. yeah this is based on that wicked song. also made this sft sorry anon 😔😔😔 also i went with salva doctor because if you were a rival gang leader, well. i think zoya would simply just kill you fhskskdjjs i hope this fits ur expectations anon

You always knew following your sister to Syndicate was going to be difficult. The people would always distrust you, and with good reason. Eastside has brought them nothing but pain and suffering, so why should they trust two doctors from there? For a while, SALVA was mostly empty, but soon enough, through word and action the unofficial hospital's reputation improved, and more and more people flocked to its doors—including gang members. Your sister had simply shrugged when you asked her about it.

"It's good that they're starting to trust us," she'd said over a bowl of instant noodles. "Even the gang members. At least, when they turn into Corruptors, I can use them to study Mania."

And that had been the end of that conversation. And she'd mostly been right about trust in SALVA spreading, though with one notable exception: the Commander of the Legion, Zoya. Ever since first showing up to the hospital, Zoya has never let herself be treated within SALVA. She lets her subordinates be treated, but avoids it herself. Which you wouldn't much care about, if she weren't so irritating.

She is, truly, insufferable. You'd rather deal with one of those Yagyu or Red Falcon pricks—at least they have the sense to shut up and follow your orders so you can treat them properly.

Zoya, on the other hand, simply refuses to even acknowledge the absolutely horrendous gash on her arm, as if it would simply disappear if she continues to act nonchalantly as she stands against the wall of the emergency room, a watchful eye on your nurses and assistants as they patch up her subordinates. She also has a particular habit of calling you everything but your title or your name.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale a long-suffering sigh. "Can you sit down so I can actually stitch you up?"

Zoya offers you a look from down her nose, and you hate how ridiculously tall she is. Really, what the hell did she eat growing up to become that absurdly tall?

"I'll pass, princess," she hums, and you grit your teeth.

"It's doctor," you snap. "And it wasn't a request."

Zoya rolls her eyes. "And I told you already, princess. I'm fine, I don't need your help."

"You are bleeding all over my ER walls, for fuck's sake."

"Tragic," the gang leader drawls, and you swear your jaw creaks from how hard you're clenching it. With a snarl, you spin on your heel and stomp towards a nearby tray of equipment, grab some gauze, saline, thread and a needle before marching right back. Zoya arches a brow, then makes a sharp hissing noise as you unceremoniously pour out the saline onto the gash on her arm.

"What the hell?" she growls, moving to step away from the wall, before you grab her wrist and her eyes narrow. She stills, but not in agreement. No, this is the stillness of a predator before it pounces on its prey. You swallow despite the thick atmosphere, and just your chin out, meeting her dangerous gaze with as much stubbornness as you can muster.

"I am going to treat you," you say firmly, "whether you like it or not."

You think Zoya might’ve killed you right then and there, were it not for the jovial laughter of some of her legionnaires. One of them, a large, burly man with two nurses trying to wrap his bicep with a bandage, places a hand on his knee and chuckles.

“The pipsqueak has fire to her, eh Boss?” he says, and your brow twitches. Are members of the Legion simply allergic to referring to people other than their Commander by their proper titles? “Just siddown and let her patch you up. It ain’t fair that we get to feel better while our Boss isn’t in tip-top shape, ain’t it fellas?”

The other legionnaires in the room yell their agreement, and you would’ve had a headache from the sheer disorder in your ER room right now, but finally seeing Zoya’s stone facade crack and the slightest hint of a genuine smile bloom across her face made it all well worth it. She crosses her arms, then sighs.

“Fine,” she acquiesces, then turns to you. “But make it quick, princess.”

You scoff. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on spending that much time on you either.”

Zoya snorts, then strides over to an empty hospital bed, and plops herself onto it. She braces her injured arm palm down on the bed, extending it so you can stitch it properly while you pull the privacy curtain around the bed. You chance a glance at her face while she’s focused on looking at her wound, and though she has an excellent stone face, you notice the slightest furrow in her brow—so the legendary Legion Commander can feel pain, after all.

You grab a stool and sit by the edge of the bed, then get to work. Zoya barely reacts beyond the slightest twitch of a muscle in her jaw as you continue cleaning the wound with saline. You can feel her gaze on you as you wipe the wound down with gauze, then start the first few stitches.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks, after a while. “Here, in Syndicate? This isn’t a place for pretty little things like you.”

Despite the harshness of the question, there is no malice in her voice. It is simply a question, one she’s right to ask. You don’t stop your stitching as you reply.

“I’m helping my sister.”

Zoya’s palm shifts on the bed, causing the muscles in her arm to flex. You pause, waiting for her to still again so you can stitch properly. “That’s all? So Syndicate’s a little family project to you?”

“Stop moving,” you growl. “And no, it isn’t. I’m helping my sister, but I’m also helping people like you who delight in making my life difficult.”

Zoya scoffs at that, fingers digging into the thin linen sheets of the bed. You can feel her gaze turn into a glare, but you don’t care. Zoya’s never liked you, anyway. She respects your sister—and yeah, you get that. Iron is just like what she’s named after. She’s solid, reliable, and won’t bend or break under intense pressure.

You’re… well, you’re just you.

You close your eyes and shake those thoughts away. Now is not the time.

“Syndicate deserves doctors who are here out of their own convictions,” Zoya sneers, her hand suddenly reaching to grab you by the collar of your white coat and pulling you close, “because at least then they won’t run at the first sign of trouble. Pretty little things like you who aren’t strong enough to blaze their own path should stay in Eastside.”

You meet her cold gaze with your own, your hand squeezing her wrist. It would do nothing to her, you know this, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to cower to her. She could kill you, but you won’t let her win.

“Am I going to have to pin you down, or are you finally going to behave?” you say, your voice frigid, icy compared to Zoya’s fire. And you see it flare in her eyes as she looks into your eyes, as if searching for something.

This close, you can truly look at her. And though you hate to admit it, she’s… attractive. A sharp jaw, defined cheekbones and that silky-looking silver hair that frames her sharp, wolfish eyes. Maybe under different circumstances, the rush of your heart in your chest might’ve been from butterflies and not pure loathing.

Then, of all things, Zoya’s eyes flick lower to your lips, and your breath stutters in your lungs. Her grip on your collar slackens, but for some reason, you don’t draw back—you can feel her warm breath fanning across your lips, and she leans closer, her eyes narrowed in something you can’t quite place but God, does it make your blood sing in your veins. Her lips brush yours and then—

“Doctor?”

Both of you spring apart as if you’d been burned. Zoya releases her collar and looks away from you, while you clear your throat and do your best to slow down your racing heart.

“Yes, nurse?”

“The legionnaires are all patched up,” she reports. “They’re ready to go. Will you be much longer?”

“No,” you answer quickly, going back to sewing Zoya’s wound, but this time twice as fast as before. She pointedly doesn’t look at you the whole time, but her fingers are curled tightly in the sheets. You wrap up in record time, then gather all the used material and dump them in a nearby biohazard bin.

Zoya stands from the bed, and glances at your handiwork on her arm. Her face remains impassive, but she looks it over without complaint, then slings her jacket over her shoulders again. She reaches for the curtain, but before she slides it open, she offers you a glance. Her eyes are stormy with a mix of emotions you can’t quite identify, with an underlying darkness that makes your pulse jump.

“Thanks,” is all she says, before she steps out of the private bed area, leaving you alone, and you lean against the bed, sucking in a breath and running a hand through your hair.

Fuck, she’ll be the death of you one day.

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 8

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Wasn't going to double post today but I'm feeling generous with it being Valentines Day. Sadly nothing super romantic about this one, but I promise some really good stuff is coming soon! I also have a few more one shots, but my requests are open if you have any more you guys want to send through! The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

The rotunda is empty as Imogen and I enter. Everyone in the dining hall eating. The feeling of being alone should unsettle me given recent circumstances, but after today I feel like that’s behind us.

Usually I would feel her eyes on me, but as she approached me in the hall I had no idea. Though I had been a little distracted at the lack of Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi at dinner.

She leads me over to the edge of the rotunda, and sits on the ledge, leaning up against one of the pillars. I copy her on the opposite side. For a few moments we sit in silence, looking out over the trees and mountains. It’s beautiful under the moonlight. In the distance I occasionally see dragons flying around. I wonder if one of them will be mine come threshing.

“I’d say I’m sorry for how I’ve acted towards you and what I did today. But I’m won’t. It’s just my weird way of processing this I guess.” She finally says, still looking out over the trees. “But, I can’t assure you it won’t happen again.”

I slowly nod my head. “Thanks, I guess.”

She looks over at me as if confused by my response.

“Not going to lie I was expecting a different response out of you regarding this. Also kind of surprised Garrick isn’t attached to your hip after what I did.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips. “Yeah well I kinda ran off after he told me he had feelings for me and I haven’t seen him since.”

She narrows her eyes at me and the look she gives me is like she thinks I’m crazy. Which honestly, I definitely am.

“You ran off?” She emphasises each words.

“Yeah.” I lean my head back on the pillar and sigh. I was such an idiot. “I ran off. Like an idiot. And now he’s nowhere to be seen.”

She shakes her head and laughs at me. “Well if it’s any help, I don’t think you haven’t seen him because of what happened. With Bodhi and Xaden also both gone, and from what I could see their dragons to, I think something’s come up.”

I nod. She’s right. In the last few weeks it had become almost normal for the boys to disappear some nights without much warning. But it still felt like it had to do with me. Maybe they went out to help Garrick clear his head. But if that was the case I’m sure either Xaden or Bodhi would have come to see how I was.

“I’m sure Garrick has told you are history and why I’ve been the way I’ve been?” She finally says after a few minutes of me swimming in my own thoughts.

“Yeah, only took me weeks of asking and then snapping at him in the healers quadrant before.” I tell her, earning a laugh out of her.

“I knew I’d like you. Even if I hate how much you have Garrick wrapped around your finger, I can see why.” She says with probably one of the first genuine smiles I’ve seen on her since I’ve been here. “And honestly I did this to myself. He always said he couldn’t give me more than something casual. That his heart lay elsewhere. He never said who, just that they were part of the rebellion casualties. And then you showed up.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any issues. Though was inevitable with everyone thinking I was dead for the last few years. Though I didn’t know Melgren’s plan till the night before conscription day.” I look away from her back out over the valley below us.

I catch the sad look that passes over her face as she studies me. “Don’t be sorry. You being back, as much as its annoyed me in one aspect, has been good the the guys. But can you promise me one thing?” She says as she stands.

I look over at her and nod.

”Don’t fuck it up. He deserves to be happy. And you definitely make him the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

And with that, she turns and leaves me alone in the Rotunda with my thoughts.

Imogen’s words hang over my head. Don’t fuck it up. Easier said than done. Part of me is over joyed that Garrick shares the same feelings. Though looking back I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner. I just put it down to us being best friends. Yes he wasn’t like that with Xaden, but I was a girl. Of course our friendship would naturally be a little different.

But part of me is also terrified. What if it goes badly? What if it puts a divide in the dynamic of our group. I couldn’t live with myself if I came between Xaden and Garrick. As much as Xaden is extremely loyal to Garrick, Xaden would pick me over him without a question. It would destroy him. But he would do it. And that’s not something I’d want him to do.

So I do the stupid thing and avoid them. Which sadly is quite easy with how little they are around. They’re in our daily battle brief class, wedged up in the back corner. I know cause I feel their eyes on me despite not turning around to see if they are there. But when it comes to challenges, their appearance is few and far between. And if they are there I do my best to blend into the crowd. As best as I can with my hair colour. Though I haven’t dyed it since arriving, and at nearly 2 months in my natural dark hair has started to shown through. Rhiannon and Violet keep telling me to let it grow out as it looks good with the dark red.

But outside of classes, I rarely see them. I get glimpses of them, but most nights they aren’t at dinner. Imogen makes comments about them being sent out for drills and such. Must be part of being a third year. Though I do notice they are gone more often than the other third years.

A few times Garrick tries to catch me after battle brief or find me at challenges, but somehow I manage to get away. I’m not quite ready to have the conversation he wants to have. But I can’t avoid it forever. A few times I nearly cave when I see the pained look in his hazel eyes. Pain I was causing. Pain I’d seen in Xaden and Bodhi’s eyes as well.

Soon our gym time turns into Gauntlet training with presentation day around the corner. So far our squad has done pretty well. Only one casualty so far. One I had to watch Violet almost be apart of. She hid it but I knew how much it killed her on the inside. She was yet to fully complete the gauntlet and today was our last day of training before presentation day tomorrow.

As we walk up the stairs to the gauntlet my heart drops. Not only is Xaden standing off to the side, Garrick is with him. It wasn’t uncommon for leadership to watch their squads do training on the gauntlet, so far neither had turned up for ours. Of course they show up on the last day.

Rhiannon who is next to me must notices something is off and follows my eyes to where Xaden and Garrick are.

“Why do you look so scared to see Xaden and Garrick?” She asks.

I hadn’t quite built the relationship with her that Violet had, but it was getting there. But I hadn’t told her about my interaction with Garrick after the challenge with Imogen.

“Remember how he took me to the healers after my fight with Imogen?” I whisper to her so the others around us don’t hear. The last thing I need is gossip spreading about this while I’m still figuring my own feelings out.

She nods. “Yeah I remember. Practically rushed over and scooped you up in his arms before you could get off the mat. Was quite romantic.” I roll my eyes at her.

Our group comes to a stop in front of the gauntlet, Xaden and Garrick making their way over with Emettiro. Both their eyes locked on mine.

I lean closer to her. “He might have confessed he’s essentially been in love with me for years and years despite me being dead and I kind of panicked and ran off and have been avoiding him ever since. Which also means avoiding my brother.”

She shakes her head and chuckles at me. “Girl I could have told you he was in love with you. No one looks at someone the way he does with out being in love.”

I go to reply but Emettiro calls us to start running the gauntlet. And I’m glad Rhiannon and I end up near the front, being one of the first ones to go. Though I doubt Xaden and Garrick are here to try talk to me, as much as they may want to. At the end of the day, they want the wing to do well.

I step up as Rhiannon takes off, my eyes meeting Garrick’s. His face is a mask and I can’t read it at all. I can tell he’s upset though. He’s never like that with me. I’m one of the few he never puts a mask up for. Xaden on the other hand is intently focused on Violet who is behind me. Before I take off up the gauntlet I offer Garrick a quick smile. For a brief second before I take off, his mask falters and his eyes soften as he gives me a tight lipped smile. The entire way up the I feel his eyes following me. He’s yet to see me climb it. And probably won’t tomorrow as most of the leadership wait up top for their squads and wings to pass the gauntlet.

I reach the top with ease. Yet again Melgren’s training had really prepared me for this. I’d barely had any issues getting up the gauntlet in the first day. And most times I caught up to or passed the person in front of me. As much as I didn’t want to think it. I was grateful for his training over the years. I turn around to look down the gauntlet to see both Garrick and briefly Xaden looking up at me. Both look happy with how easily I made it up. Xaden’s gaze drops to something below me. Violet is yet again stuck on the last parts of the gauntlet. And dare I say, does Xaden looks concerned? His eyes shift up to mine. We both know she needs to find an alternate way up the last part of the gauntlet.

Part 9

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh

[seungminismyboo]

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X FEM READER FUCKING IN A LIBRARY

☾ ━━━ CONTENT: SMUT, EATING HER OUT, FINGER PLAY, CHAIR SEX, CALLS YOU DARLING (I think that’s it)

☾ ━━━ 18+!! Unless you wanna be a bit risky..

━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━

Seungmin is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Seungmin doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. Thursday afternoon, sitting at the library desks trying to study, thinks about how dumb he really is. he reads his textbook and… God, he is fucking stupid, since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class and there is nothing that Seungmin hates more than being called stupid. Then his thoughts came to you. He’d see you stare at him in class and in the hallways a lot, and Seungmin interprets your stares. But he doesn’t really know how he feels about you. Seungmin generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. So Seungmin just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud smack of books wakes Seungmin from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break! Disoriented, Seungmin raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. Slowly, Seungmin recognizes you, in the book isle.. checking out some books. He knew you always liked reading. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the isle. Seungmin furrows his brows and shakes his head. Why would he even go up to you? Pfft. What a dummy. But Seungmin froze when he heard you call his name. He turned around and saw you with your arms crossed and staring right at him. A few seconds pass until Seungmin finally realizes that he hasn’t said anything yet, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Thinking of what to say. “Oh sorry. I was just STARING AT YOU” like.. no…

“Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside.

"It's fine, really" you stare at him before walking deeper into the isle of books.

"May I follow you?" Seungmin asked.

You nod and he manages to follow you into the isle, deeper and deeper where no one else was. You sit at an empty table and take out a few books from your backpack and some of the ones you just found. You glance at him and see Seungmin in a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. You see he’s dressed quite messy. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Because normally he’s always dressed so well. Of course, you'd notice.

"Seungmin, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Seungmin has not seen. Ever.

"What..?” He said confused.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re dressed like a mess..” you reply.

Then he lets out a sigh. “I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?"

Seungmin’s tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Seungmin informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm.

“Well you should continue. I heard your grades are dropping.”

Seungmin sighed and got up to grab his stuff. He came back and placed it down and sat beside you. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second. Seungmin’s mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your hand against your book to remind him to continue to study. Seungmin groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice? "I'm really glad you let me be here with you.." He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Seungmin decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you.

"Seungmin, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Seungmin reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, He is not stupid. He does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Seungmin inhales sharply.

Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on this table, without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today.""A-are you?"

You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Seungmin looks at you without moving his head.

"Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Seungmin enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel.

"There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your book in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the pages until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud. Seungmins favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together. Oh, how Seungmin loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Seungmin confirms with a slight smirk.

He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Seungmin lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Seungmin so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should go then..?"

Seungmin smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His slender fingers toying with his pen, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements.

"Already?""Mhm."

You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Seungmin listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching. As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing.

"What?" Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Seungmin smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness.

"Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Seungmin loves this game. That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you.

Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Kim Seungmin stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Seungmin can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him. Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Seungmin’s form, but Seungmin is not here for it. He has gotten what he wants. Seungmin feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Seungmin’s mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Seungmin smugly leaned back in his chair.

Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said. In the blink of an eye, Seungmin feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Seungmin gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his. A deep groan escapes Seungmin’s lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. His hands go up your skirt, touching your panties. He can feel they are getting wet. He glides his fingers along it, Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Seungmin in front of you.

Yes, he is aware of the effect of his siren eyes. For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise.

And you do, allowing Seungmin to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the table. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Seungmin is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time. Okay, Seungmin admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more. Impatient as you are, you assist Seungmin in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes. And as much as he would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access.

His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Seungmin loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even. Finally, the time has come, and Seungmin kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, smirking at the wetness on it. His hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Okay, maybe Seungmin feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in. So that's what he does, He goes down on his knees, looking at your eyes, then your clit. You laid back on the table.. just waiting for it. Obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Seungmin tastes you. His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls. Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Seungmin thinks, not to brag, but-Seungmins eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Seungmin’s fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands. To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, he lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you.

At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance. Seungmin loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this. He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle.

“Shh.. darling.. people will hear us..” Seungmin whispered. Then he feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist. Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum. Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you. Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it. Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Seungmin says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants.

And as if you're getting paid to stroke Seungmin’s ego even more, you gasp at his size. Seungmin can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully.

Oh, how Seungmin would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Seungmin is more in his giving,receiving era. Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more. Seungmin smiled and pulled you into a kiss, picking you up by the thighs and bringing you back down on his lap. He said on the chair again, kissing you passionately. Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Seungmin helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle. Damnit, Seungmin. Why are you so hot. Seungmin mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Seungmin and are not possessed by a sex demon."

“I don't fucking care. Just get these boxers off and have sex with me!"Seungmin does not need to be told twice, only a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Seungmin chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half,

"come here. Please."

You scoot closer and Seungmin moaned. The feeling of your thighs and clit against his dick, And you start to beg him with your eyes. Seungmin wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards, making you bounce up a little. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely. His hands trail your skirt, pulling it upwards. Exposing your thighs and ass. And he softly squeezed it. God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Seungmin feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again." How did that get out there? You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now.

"You're so cute." Cute?! Seungmin will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance.

"Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open.

Helplessly, you cling to Seungmin’s body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier. With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Seungmin’s ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return.

"Yeah, like it that my voice is so seductive?" You nod pathetically. "Cute.""Seungmin- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Seungmin grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open.

He really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot.

Seungmin feels like he loves you. He also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it?

All that matters is that Seungmin’s ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish. His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one. Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Seungmin if he kept it that way.

That's why he found himself putting you back on the table, going into his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge. It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Seungmin eating his own cum out of you, he assumes.

Somehow, you two end up in his bed after a romantic drive to his house, mostly because Seungmin is a cuddler, partly because he’s is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows. Maybe he’ll never ever let you go..

The end!

(Unless you want a part two on what happens at his house..)

[missamyrisa2]

15 questions for 15 friends:

Thanks for thinking of me for these questions, @lady-featherquill ~ this is like mmmmh a certain kind of tingle blushhh tickle for me to be called on~

Were you named after anyone?: Yess I was named after Burl Ives, but you wouldn't know it because I spell and pronounce my name differently~

When was the last time you cried?: I made the mistake of thinking about The Lion King a few hours ago~

Do you have kids?: I make kids all the time. Like crying over the lion king because I randomly was thinking about how real to life the animation was of Simba pulling on Mufasa's ear and holygodddddd he was trying to wake his dad up whyyyyyyy are animators so supremely great at heartsqueezing~~~ I'm just kidding. That was a kid.

What sports do you play/have you played?: all of them I think~ I live by the fake it until you make it mindset and I'm still figuring out the latter part of that. But I did study pickleball thoroughly under its venerable founder, The Earl of Pickle

Do you use sarcasm?: William Shakesman said that's the lowest form of brevity so I try to avoid it whenever possible, also I'm horrendously bad at it to where I sound completely sincere and this has resulted in one too many punches to the face because, surprisingly if you poorly sarcastically announce you'd really love to be just hit in the face there are a LOT of people who are all too eager to jump in~

What is the first thing you notice about people?: That they're always trying to figure out if I hate them because I had a fairly consistent RBF crossed with an inclination to be mysterious. Through online interactions I first take note of their comma frequency because that says so much about a person's Oxford-related preferences.

What's your eye color?: Blue or green or grey depending which type of light you shove in my face, followed by whatever my eyelid is because moonlight makes me squint

Scary movies or happy endings?: I like the ones where nothing is really resolved and the story just sort of stops because everyone gave up and it was probably lunchtime so f*ck it~

Any talents?: I can do a hair flip like nobody's business, which is to say no one should ever be in the business of doing such hair flips because I've knocked over more cups and hit my head on more things than anyone should do in five lifetimes.

Where were you born?: I'm fairly certain I've always been, because whenever I attempt to find the record of my birth Mr. Tumnus plays an enchanting tune and I wake up in a cold room.

What are your hobbies?: arguing on the Internet and street corners why Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 is better than Brotherhood. I took up the hobby after some guy stole my bicycle which was an outrage, but that was his hobby and he imparted the wisdom which set me on my path which is that a hobby is something that makes you completely miserable and spreads that misery onto anyone unfortunate enough to share your space.

Do you have any pets?: No, no one ever wants to pet me and it's probably because of the below answer

How tall are you?: 6'2

Favorite subject in school?: History. Not so much for the subject matter but because memorizing facts comes obscenely easy to me and I loved writing excessively lengthy essays which went nowhere and were loaded with as many funny words as I could muster like trying to relate an unrelated event to the future of filibustering.

Dream job?: Tending a lighthouse so I could make giant shadowpuppets over the water and make alligator mouths eat the ships.

Join in and pass it on if you can. Don't feel obligated!

@witchy-giggles @atomiccollectorwitch @crystalstarlight4657 @opossumgirltongue @adventuresofmelody @greenticklerdreams @juviisworld @dusktexanler @polsj103 @fuzzypilled @androgynousangeldreamland @daisylovestickles @yourgothgfswitch @magicaltickles @giggliestgirl

[gummiworm-writes]

dottore x gn reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

a/n: evil insane villain who hates everyone but you is my favorite trope ever so here you go <3

word count: 636

dottore has no need for love. love is a human weakness, something that would only weigh him down and cause him to fall. he abandoned the concept of love the second he abandoned his humanity. the fatui worship him as a god, so why should he feel as a human?

the whole concept was ridiculous.

and yet...there you were.

destroying everything he thought he knew about himself. all with a single smile.

that damned smile.

it would be his downfall for sure.

you are dottore's primary assistant. the only person capable of dealing with all of his deranged ramblings and cruel studies. despite the distinct lack of humanity present in the lab, you always managed to remain calm...maybe even a little compassionate.

dottore treated you differently than everyone else. he treated you...well, not as an equal. nobody is an equal to him in his eyes, not even his own segments. but...you came close.

he claimed it was because he appreciated your competence and respected your work.

and you believed him.

because why would a harbinger as powerful as him actually care for a human as weak as you?

the very notion was absurd.

but...even then, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at you. the way his voice seemed softer when directed at you, the way his hands gently brushed yours instead of harshly grabbing them...

no, no. you were just thinking into it too much. that's all.

today you and dottore were studying a new automaton. something khaenri'ahn that you'd never seen before. dottore called it a "ruin tarragon." you, on the other hand, preferred to call it "ingrid."

you were carefully inspecting the mechanisms on its legs, humming a tune from your home nation. usually, dottore had a record playing. not today. ingrid took up too much space in the workshop.

dottore didn't seem to mind your humming. you often caught him glancing over at you if you stopped, as if he was disappointed that your song was gone.

it was endearing.

well, as endearing as dottore could be.

hours fly by, and it's now time for a lunch break. dottore claims that he doesn't need to eat, but he still spends this break with you, occasionally stealing some of your snacks.

"what do you think the purpose of the tarragon was?" dottore asked suddenly. "it wasn't for war, i found no traces of weaponry. not for agriculture, as there was no room for equipment. and definitely not transportation...that would just be ridiculously unsafe, and the khaenri'ahns were smarter than that."

"hm..." you hummed, thinking. "maybe it was simply made for companionship?"

dottore gave you a confused look.

"the hell do you mean, 'companionship'?"

"well...it doesn't seem to serve any other purpose that I can think of. plus, it has rounded edges, and what appears to be places where there used to be fabric, almost as if it were meant to have a padded exterior."

"...but it looks so powerful and imposing. i doubt that it would make a very good companion."

"...break's over," dottore said, standing up. "we need to get back to work. on...ingrid.

"you'd be surprised," you said with a smile.

that damned smile.

"and what is that supposed to mean?" dottore asked, raising an eyebrow.

"not everything that's strong and scary makes a bad companion. like...you. you're tall, powerful, intimidating...but I also enjoy spending time with you."

there was a pause. a long, long pause.

"...break's over," dottore stood up. "we need to get back to the workshop...ingrid's waiting for us."

you smiled happily at the name.

that goddamned smile.

he was lucky that his mask covered up the blush spreading on his face.

it didn't cover his ears, though.

and that only made you smile wider.

[luaspersona]

All Night│knj (m)

pairing ↠ namjoon x reader (f. reader) genre ↠ college!au; brother’s best friend!au; strangers to lovers; smut; one-shot summary ↠ when your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company. rating ↠ +18 warnings ↠ alcohol consumption; flirting; sexual tension; the reader and Namjoon are shameless; explicit smut: consent king!Namjoon, a bit of thigh riding, nipple play, fingering, oral (f. and brief m. receiving), spit kink, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, marking, light choking, begging, protected sex, multiple orgasms, cumshot, cum eating word count ↠ 12k (yeah, well. what can i say 💀) estimated reading time ↠ 30 minutes notes ↠ ok, so. i know i said i would upload this yesterday, but i got caught up with work and wasn't able to edit it one last time like i intended, and i hope it's ok that i'm dropping it now instead 🥺 note² ↠ also, this took so much longer than it should have, and it’s huge 😭 i’m so sorry y’all, but i swear it’s pure filth, the smut is just ridiculously long bc i don’t have any ounce of self control lmao 🫣 note³ ↠ ok, i'll let you get to it, now 🥰 crossposted ↠ read on ao3

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As the good sister you are, you hate Jimin most of the time.

The sparse moments in which you feel love for your brother are the only downside of going long enough without seeing him, because you start to forget why Jimin studying on the other side of the country is actually crucial for your relationship. Recently, for example, you've been missing him, and that's not something you can just let happen.

So, when your boss sent you to Seoul to attend a handful of meetings during the week, you took the opportunity to meet up with your brother for the first time since he got into college and make new oh-so-sweet memories with Jimin so you can go on with not missing him for another semester or so.

The club he chose is far from the hotel your company paid for, but it's been a minute since you last toured Seoul's alluring night, so you decide to walk. You spot the large mono. neon sign Jimin described around thirty minutes later, and you quickly step out of the chilly night into the club's cozy interior.

You fish for your phone inside your purse, messaging a simple im here to your brother before finding your way to the bar. You hop onto one of the empty stools, smoothing the fabric of your pants and adjusting your cute top that is slightly hiked up from your walking.

You order a beer to start the night, and with its bitterness coating your tongue, you turn around to take in the environment. You have to admit Jimin was right about this place. Although really crowded, it feels comfortable; the dim lightning casting a cozy veil over the bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the playlist good and loud enough to soothe any thoughts that might threaten a good night out.

[10:31] baby j 😗: on my way

Upon reading his response, you can't contain the large smile that betrays your anxiety. It finally hits you how long it has been since you last saw your brother. You don't even know what color his hair is now, how he's enjoying his first semester, if he found another apartment, if he got that job he told you about last month.

Aren't you supposed to know these things? God, you're a terrible older sister.

“Hey! What's up, noona?” A deep voice calls beside you, startling you a bit.

You turn, catching sight of a tall man greeting the bartender before he slides onto the stool next to yours.

After you take a quick look at him, you find yourself blinking back a couple times, simply unable to divert your attention: you've never seen such a fine man in your life.

As he leans over the counter, his broad torso is evident even through his shirt, large shoulders making him seem way too big for that stool. And his thighs?! Those thick — thick — thighs. You could die a happy woman between them, almost drooling when he spreads his legs to make himself comfortable.

“I'll just have the usual!” He orders, prompting a nod in response.

You know you're ogling, but fuck if this man isn't just perfect.

He pushes his hair back, long fingers tangling in his black locks in an failed attempt to clear the strands off his eyes, but in a successful endeavor to make you suck in a breath. Your attention falls to his lips — plump rosy lips that shine once he wets them with the tip of his tongue.

You tilt up, finding his dark almond-shaped eyes — piercing back directly at you.

You tense a little under his scrutiny, but you don't turn away, holding his gaze as you sip your beer.

“You know it's rude to stare, right?” He teases, making you smile immediately. 

Thing is: you are a Park, so flirting was like second nature to you. There's no scenario in which you dismiss this perfect lead he just gave you.

Besides, Jimin tends to be late, right? Yeah, he said he was on his way, sure, but who knows if he won't go to his place to freshen up before coming to meet you or something — what could be so bad about entertaining this beautiful man by your side?

“Oh, I'm sorry. You’re gorgeous, so it’s easy to get distracted.” He snickers, not expecting your response but definitely enjoying it. “But it's ok, I’ll let you stare back so we're even. Here, let me make it easier for you.”

You wiggle your body so you're facing him, closing your eyes playfully.

But he keeps his eyes locked in your face, as he's already regarded you before making his way to the bar. He noticed you when you approached the stool. He noticed the way your pants hug your legs just well enough for him to be able to delineate your figure. He noticed how really fucking cute your top is, loving how it bares the skin of your neck for him to picture how nice it would be to taint the soft flesh. 

You are hot, and Namjoon is a practical man, so he was already trying to read you, maybe wait a bit to see if you came with someone, if your body language was inviting or reclusive.

What eventually pushed him to come over was the way your face lit up when you smiled at your phone and he found himself grinning in response.

So now, even with your eyes shut, and your body closer for him to shamelessly gawk at, it's your smile that he's focused on.

“So?” You open your eyes again.

He cocks his head, regarding you.

“I like your earrings.” He taunts, and you scoff in feigned offense.

“That's your review?”

The bartender shows up again, placing a bottle of soju and a single glass in front of the man, who pours a dose for himself before drinking it.

He looks at you, all pretty and pouty, and grins before he's leaning in.

“I think I’d like to paint you, princess.” When did his voice become so husky? “Is that something you'd be interested in?”

This close, he catches the goosebumps that crawl up your arms, but your reply is unaffected.

“Well, how good of a painter are you, baby?” 

You can feel his hot breath fanning your jaw.

“I'd say I'm really good, but it really depends on you.”

“What about me.”

He shifts back to his prior position, a smirk on his face.

“If you behave.”

“And if I don't?” He drags his tongue over his lip.

“Then that’s even better.”

“Then I'm definitely interested, baby.”

He shoots you a shit-eating grin. God, are those fucking dimples?

“Well, what is your review?”

“Uhm, I like your lips. Almost want to know what they taste like.”

“Almost?”

“Of course! Need to know if you're a good boy first.” You say, matter-of-factly, tilting your head to finish your beer.

His eyes follow your body when you reach for another glass over the counter. “I also think a bottle of soju seems like a lot for one person.”

Damn, you are hot.

“Well, I'm a big guy.” He says, but pours it in your cup nonetheless.

“I can surely see that.” You huff, making him laugh.

“I'm Namjoon, by the way.”

You introduce yourself, taking the hand he extends to you.

The feeling of his large palm enveloping yours take your mind to other places. Places where that same hand is running up your legs, reaching for your zipper and slipping inside your—

“You're here alone?”

Before you can respond, your phone vibrates over at the counter, and you reach for it, checking a new message in your brother's chat.

“Gimme a sec.”

[10:47] baby j 😗: im rly rly sorry, sth came up, wont be able to make it tn

[10:47] you: You alright?

[10:48] baby j 😗: yeah

[10:48] you: Then why cant you come?

[10:49] baby j 😗: …

[10:49] baby j 😗: i met up w this really cute guy from my class and i wanna fuck him

[10:50] you: You bailing on me to fuck???

[10:51] baby j 😗: im so so sorry 🥺

[10:51] you: No you aint 😡

[10:52] baby j 😗: my bad lol

[10:53] baby j 😗: gtg tho, see u tmrw

“You ok?” Namjoon asks, as soon as you finish your glass of soju after sending Jimin a bunch of angry face emojis.

You realize you're frowning, and immediately ease the scowl on your face.

“Yeah. My brother just stood me up.”

“Shit. I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.”

Namjoon is quiet for a second.

“So you're leaving?”

You honestly thought Jimin would take longer to piss you off this time, but when you meet Namjoon's uncertain eyes, you can't really feel too bad about yourself right now. You smile mischievously. 

“Giving up already? Oh baby, I thought you could hold up.” You pout.

“I would never even think of leaving you unsatisfied.” The grin returns to his face, where it belongs. “Besides, who would I share my soju with?”

You pretend to search around the club.

“There are plenty of people here.”

“I'm sure of it, but there’s this beautiful girl who’s talking big to me and looks awfully uncomfortable in her clothes and I happen to be a very good boy who just wants to help her out of them.”

“Didn’t think of you as the romantic type.”

“What can I say, I’m as sweet as they come.”

“Then what do you say I help you finish this bottle before you give me a hand, sweet boy?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Just one thing, though.” He turns to you, attentive. “Sweet isn’t really my thing. I like it rough.” You wink.

“Damn, princess.” He chuckles. “I like you.”

Namjoon prided himself on being a good flirt. He liked to take his sweet time with his partners, teasing and instigating in such a way that any fleeting touch would ignite the skin.

But you? You were humbling him.

Barely two cups into the bottle, he decided to take you to dance. He assumed that having his hands on your thighs, gripping your hips, and his lips brushing gently over your neck would help to shut that witty mouth of yours, but as you keep grinding your ass on his cock he finds himself guiding you closer, spellbound by the way your body frames his.

Namjoon's thoughts are clouded by your hips, the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips turning him the fuck on, making him feel like a horny teenager.

A thin layer of sweat covers your bodies, the loud music a mere excuse for you two to keep pressing into each other.

Namjoon can hear your shaky breaths as you turn a bit on his hold, lips nearing his ear as you nib lightly at the flesh — which, paired with the way your fingers grab his hair, is enough to prompt a quiet moan out of his plumpy lips, one that you wouldn’t have listen weren’t you so close to him.

He should be ashamed of how fast he’s giving in, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck. He just wants more. So he lets you do as you please — even if just for now.

Namjoon leisurely rolls his pelvis on your ass, large palms coming up to circle your waist and it’s his turn to listen to the pretty whine you give him. Namjoon closes his eyes, trying to focus.

“Wanna kiss you so bad, babe. Can I kiss you?”

You nod immediately and Namjoon wastes no time in grabbing your hand in his and quickly guiding you out of the dance floor, cutting through the sea of bodies with clear purpose.

You two make your way to a hall near what you assume is the backdoor of the club, poorly illuminated but also a bit more quiet.

Namjoon gently pushes you towards the wall, your back meeting its cold surface. The way he stares at you resembles nothing the sweet eyes you met at the bar — now dark with lust, nothing short of intimidating.

And you would be lying if you said that didn’t spur a heat below your belly.

“Are we allowed to be back here?” A coy smile crosses Namjoon’s face.

“That’s what you're thinking right now?”

“What should I be thinking, sweet boy?”

A huffed laugh passes his lips, and Namjoon steps closer. One of his arms comes to rest near your face.

“In a good ass excuse for the show you pulled back there.” His low register sends a shiver down your spine.

On second thought? Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him that much, but— ah, who are you kidding?

“Thing is, babe, I’m not sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head, taking a step closer.

With his body so near, you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything. You close your eyes when his breathing ghosts over your skin, feeling goosebumps trail over your arms.

You wait for his next action. You wait for a touch or a reprimand, but it never comes.

Wait.

He didn’t… leave you, did he?

You’re mortified for a second, but as if sensing your distress Namjoon brings his fingertips to graze over your sides. The sudden touch startles you a bit.

When his hands reach your upper arm, you hear him let out a sharp, frustrated breath, prompting you to open your eyes.

“You are fucking beautiful.”

You want to reciprocate his praise, but the words seem lost in your throat. This close you feel drunk on his beauty, dazed by his full, sinful lips and intoxicated by his heat as your bodies orbit each other.

Are you imagining him?

Namjoon’s hand continues to travel up your body, stopping at your jaw.

The pad of his thumb traces your chin, reaching your bottom lip and slowly pulling it off of your anxious bite, soothing the flesh in a tender movement.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks again, tone serious.

You smile.

“At this point, you better.”

And so he does, plumpy lips touching yours with surprising tenderness while his hands rest on your neck. You are taken aback by his softness, not reacting for a second before pulling him closer to bathe in his warmth.

The kiss unwinds all the tension off of you, replacing it with lust. The docility of his actions makes them hypnotic, your mind disoriented with his skin grazing yours — but you’ve never been a patient woman.

You slide your hands through his chest, trailing his defined torso before grabbing his shirt in your fists. You break the kiss and he lifts an eyebrow in question.

“Thought I told you sweet isn’t really my thing, big boy.”

Namjoon chuckles. “So impatient.”

This time Namjoon smashes your lips together, kissing you with hunger.

He presses you further against the wall and you stumble with his eagerness, a satisfied hum leaving your throat.

His hands explore your body, going through your neck, your shoulders, your hips and then your ass, grabbing a handful and giving it a hard squeeze.

He opens your mouth with his, and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. His breath is ragged when he slips his tongue inside, and you two take barely a second to match each other's rhythm.

You suck the soju's sweetness off his tongue, and he drinks the bitter memory of your beer. Forget the alcohol — he's the one inebriating your thoughts.

You feel every inch of his body, pressed flush against his broad torso as his waist smoothly drags over yours, making it almost impossible for you to keep your whiny sounds down your throat.

You make no effort, on the other hand, to resist the urge to bite his pillowy flesh, nibbing with maybe more force than you should, but grinning in satisfaction when you earn a sweet groan in response.

You entangle your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer in a desperate attempt to get more of him, and he seems just as insatiable, slithering his arms behind your back to press your fronts.

Namjoon breaks the kiss, but he gives you no time to complain before you feel his mouth on your neck, sucking and biting between licks over the sweaty skin.

Your hands find purchase on his hair, grabbing his locks with force as arousal gushes out of you.

Namjoon's determined to mark all over your neck. After he sucks a hickey on the spot between your ear and your jaw, you just fucking know he's sporting the smuggest smile at the way his actions shove the prettiest of yelps out of you.

He levels his face with yours, but avoids your lips when you try to resume the kiss. 

“You’re awfully quiet, baby girl” he points out when you frown “have nothing smart to say?”

“How about fuck you?”

“I plan on it, don’t worry.” A cocky grin takes his lips. “And although you look gorgeous trying to be in control, I wanna hear you. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.”

He doesn’t really give you an option when he slots his leg between yours, large thigh pressing up your core and pushing an audible whimper out of you. The sound makes Namjoon grab a handful of your ass and use it to grind you along his thigh — his fucking thigh.

You grab the back of his head, pulling him to you as you smother his lips with yours, but this time Namjoon eats all your moans, feasting on the sounds you so obediently grant him.

You’re bathing in each other’s heat and with a particularly delicious roll of your hips, your core brushes on his growing bulge. You suck in a breath, parting with the kiss to learn how to breathe again.

“Look at you” his tone is laced with lust “riding my thigh like a good girl.”

Fuck, you're so damn horny, and you've barely done anything. The fuck is up with you? It scares you how you know you'd promptly fold if Namjoon asked you too, just to have that cock drilling inside you.

So you just hum weakly, apparently forgetting how to fucking speak.

“What was it again? That you called me before?” he asks, returning to slide your clothed core over his strong legs again, loving the way you look getting off on his thigh “Oh, right. What happened with all the filth you were saying before, sweet girl?”

You swallow. This man is fucking challenging you. You have to get your shit together.

“Namjoon—” you moan his name out “I’m… I’m so fucking wet right now.”

“Yeah?” His Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

“Yeah, Namjoon, my panties are fucking soaked.”

“Shit. That’s it, wanna hear you losing it.”

Namjoon wants you so bad. He can feel the warmth of your core rubbing against him, and he can only imagine the growing stain in your panties, the desire of licking you clean the only thing in his mind. He wants to know how you look when you cum, and he just knows it'll be the prettiest fucking thing.

“I can feel how hard you are for me.” Your shaky voice makes him growl.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” That’s his new favorite pet name, the only thing he wants leaving his mouth.

You close your lips on his neck, moaning against his skin when you lick up his throat, a salty taste coating your tongue.

“I haven’t even—” you falter, intensifying your movements to touch his covered cock with each raise of your hips “I haven't even touched you yet, big boy. If I lose control, you sure you can keep it?”

You suck a purple stain on his pulse point, nibbing at it softly and rolling your eyes back over the grunts he pours on your ears.

Your hand slides between your bodies, fingers ghosting over his cock. Namjoon chuckles darkly.

“You're such a tease.”

“And what you gonna do about it, big boy?” You murmur on his skin.

Before Namjoon can answer, though, a high giggle echoes through the corridor.

You both turn, startled by the sound.

A couple stumble its way into the corner, in a messy make out session that delays their realization that they aren't alone. 

“Do you live close?” You ask Namjoon, breathe steadying when the two of you understand the couple doesn’t really mind the audience.

“Yeah.” He says, non-committal.

“Can we maybe go to your place?” You suggest, unsure if he's comfortable with it.

Namjoon turns his attention back to you, and his lips curve up into the most gentle smile you've ever seen.

“If you want to.”

You nod, mirroring his smile.

Namjoon adjusts himself in his pants, trying to be as comfortable as one can be with a painfully hard cock in tight fitting slacks.

You take the cue to soothe your own clothing and Namjoon can't help when his cute smile turns into a full on smirk upon seeing the evidence of his hands on your crumpled outfit.

He takes your hand in his when you both are relatively presentable, and once again leads you through the club, this time aiming for the exit.

Turns out, Namjoon isn't a good boy at all.

The whole ride to his apartment his hand was planted on your thigh, caressing softly without ever breaching your inner thigh or skirting higher — it was as innocent as it possibly could be.

Yet you were squirming and fidgeting the whole trip as his voice, enveloped in the most vulgar desire, whispered the most filthy promises on your ear, shooting arousal all the way down to your now sticking panties.

Promises of making you cum on his tongue, of fucking you senseless with your face on his mattress — of painting you with his cum tonight.

By the time the car finally stopped at his place, you felt your knuckles sore from clutching the fabric of your pants.

Not that he was unaffected. Namjoon could dirty talk you all he wanted, it didn't change the fact that you saw the way his cock twitched and how he was restlessly shifting in his seat whenever you played into his little scenarios.

Although, in hindsight, saying you wanted to be stuffed full of him wasn't the best idea, because the quiet groan he spilled in your ear did nothing to placate your own aching pussy.

The warmth of his palm is familiar at this point as he takes your hand to climb the flights of stairs to his place. Namjoon quietly fishes for his keys and, before opening the door, he looks at you, smiling softly and making you smile too.

When you both are inside his apartment, you wet your lips, anticipating his kiss. But Namjoon misses the action, too preoccupied with taking off his shoes and jacket and politely asking for you to do the same at the entrance.

His long legs stride towards the kitchen, and you almost assume he’s nervous when he fumbles with his cabinets, picking up two glasses.

You frown and, slowly following after him, you hop up on the stool by the counter, across from him. 

“Namjoon.”

“Yeah.” He fills the cups with water, placing them between you two and finally returning your gaze.

“Do you still wanna fuck?”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “Yes. I definitely still wanna fuck you.” His eyebrows knit together. “Why? Don’t you?”

“I do. But I kinda expected you to have, you know, thrown me against the wall or something by now.”

“I might still do that. Just wanna talk for a bit, make sure you’re sober and all.” He explains, reaching for his cup, and you mimic his motion, soothing the dryness of your throat. 

“Well” you ponder “I honestly feel a bit tipsy, but I’m conscious.”

“Do you want some time to be sure?”

“Nah, I’m sure.” He nods. “Are you drunk?”

“Not really.” Namjoon presses his lips into a tight line, before saying: “I also wanna know your limits.”

“My limits?”

“Yeah, I wanna know what you don’t like.”

“Oh” you huff out a laugh, dumbfounded “that’s nice. You seriously ask that to everyone you hook up with?”

“I like to.”

“Okay, uhm…” you sip your water. “I’m not really into degradation and, although I said I like it rough, I would appreciate it if you didn’t hit me or anything.” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “I also don’t feel comfortable with ass stuff. Oh, and do you have condoms?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think that’s it. Maybe just don’t try anything freaky before telling me?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“What about you?” He cocks his head to the side, considering you for a second.

“There isn't much I'm not willing to do, honestly, so really? Just don’t want you to lie or fake stuff. I want you to tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

“I can do that.”

Namjoon rounds the counter, stopping in front of you before helping you stand.

“Up.” He commands, head tilting in the direction of the counter, and you jump to sit on it.

“There’s only one problem.” You say, guiding him between your legs.

“What?”

“I’m soaking wet right now.”

“That can’t be comfortable.” He traces soft circles on your thighs.

“It isn’t. And it’s your fault, big boy.” You pout.

Namjoon sucks his lower lip between his teeth, dark lust cloaking his eyes.

He gets closer, hands coming to your ass and squeezing it.

“But I’ve barely done anything.”

“I’m painfully aware of that.” You whine, seeking more contact.

“Are you normally that impatient, baby?”

“Do you normally take this damn long to fuck someone?”

He chuckles.

“You sure you can take it if I’m rough with you, princess?”

“You sure you can be rough with me, sweet boy? Cause you’ve been all talk and no—”

He smashes his mouth against yours before you could finish.

Namjoon’s lips seem like velvet on yours — despite the pressure, despite the thirst with which he drinks you up. He moves his lips in a way that almost feels like too much, like you won’t be able to take it, but the taste of lust coats your mouth so deeply that you’re intoxicated.

His hands memorize your body, grabbing your neck to tilt your head to the side before you open your mouth to meet his hot tongue, flicking it with yours.

You explore his mouth, happy to swallow all of his breathy groans as Namjoon tightens his grip on your ass, pulling you to drag on his bulge and grunting at the feeling, your body gasoline to his fire.

He can barely concentrate on the kiss, and you’re not much better, the initial eagerness developing into a sloppy make out session — fuck technic, how can one focus when Namjoon’s cock is so deliciously rubbing against you?

He starts to kiss down your jaw, wet lips tracing your sensitive flesh, taking your neck as his canvas.

You couldn't be more thankful for not having any more meetings to attend until being back to Busan, because you definitely don't own enough makeup to hide the purple marks he leaves behind. 

He cups your boob, squeezing it in a way that has you parting your lips in a whimper.

“Fuck princess, you’re so responsive.”

His palm slithers beneath your shirt, caressing the soft flesh of your stomach before he tugs your top off.

“Take this off for me, baby.” He commands, voice low in your ear as he brushes the thin lace of your bra.

And you obey, unclasping it and letting it fall somewhere near your top.

You're not ashamed or timid in the slightest when you lean back on the counter to let him take in as much as he wants from you, a tiny smirk crossing your lips. Your confidence makes Namjoon crazy, but you can't help it. You feel so hot under his gaze, you could let this man do anything to you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. Like, honestly, what the fuck.” You giggle.

“Come back here then, sweet boy.”

He kisses down your body, from your neck to your collarbone before he finally reaches your tits.

He closes his mouth around you, swirling his tongue around your nipple as his thumb finds your other breast, flicking over your hard nub and eliciting a loud cry out of your pretty lips. Namjoon seriously feels like he could drown in your sweet sounds.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging a handful and making him groan, vibration reverberating all through your chest.

A string of saliva attaches his lips to your tits as he peppers down kisses between the valley of your chest to regard your other boob, latching onto your nipple and taking his hand to smear the wetness he left behind.

The tip of his tongue licks your nipple, and you buck into his hips.

“Fuck, Namjoon, I… I love your mouth.” You pant.

“Love your tits.”

And he certainly makes you feel so.

Your head falls back when his hand cups your pussy over your pants. The elongated moan you grace him with makes him pull your waistband, quickly undoing your buttons.

You suck in a breath when his hand slips inside your panties, and the groan that leaves his throat is borderline painful as he finally feels you — his fingertips slightly spreading your folds as your slick coats him. 

“Damn, baby, you’re dripping.” He says, breaking the pattern of kisses on your tits to look at your face.

“I fucking told you.”

“Is all this for me?”

“Yeah, ba—” your words turn into a whine when his middle finger presses down your clit.

He chuckles, and you clench around nothing.

Namjoon feels like he's dreaming, seeing your head tilted back, your eyes closed shut as you squirm on his finger.

He pushes one digit inside your aching pussy, and you sob. Your wetness paired with the warmth of your walls pushes a moan out of his mouth, electricity going straight to his dick and coaxing him to push another finger inside — his mind spiraling as he imagines how your pussy will feel like around his cock.

“Good girl, soaking my fingers.”

Namjoon’s attention is locked on your face, gauging your reactions carefully.

“Shit, baby, that's it” you shudder when his fingertips find your g-spot, and he starts to hit it restlessly, your walls sucking him in.

You feel your breath scaping your lungs. Although Namjoon’s hand is somewhat restrained by your pants — which he didn’t mind taking off — the stretch of his fingers inside of you is maddening.

He's slowly working you up, heat coursing through your body and all the way to your scalp, the obscene sounds dripping from you only spurring you on.

You start to struggle to support yourself, feeling weaker by the minute, so you grab his upper arms, in an attempt to steady yourself. When you open your eyes, you’re met with deep, dark lust.

“I want to eat you out.” He says, and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“Fucking god.”

“Would you like that, baby?”

“Yes, baby, fuck” you moan.

“Tell me you want it.”

Can't he tell by the way your chest is rising and falling at an almost concerning speed?

“I wanna feel that pretty mouth of yours in my pussy, Namjoon.”

He groans before his hand leaves your cunt and helps you down the counter.

You two stumble your way to his bedroom. Namjoon's arms hug you tightly against him as your hands pull his hair in a messy kiss, the only concern in your minds is to remain linked.

Namjoon tosses you carelessly over his mattress, drawing a gasp out of you.

The sight of you on his sheets, bare chest glistening with his saliva, pants poorly undone and shifting as you try to relive the emptiness he left behind makes Namjoon grope himself through his clothes, swallowing strained grunts.

You smirk at his distress, bringing your hands to your boobs and pushing them together to shove that grunt out of his throat. 

“You look so pretty like this, spread out for me.”

“I bet you’ll find me prettier with your cock inside of me.”

“You keep saying these things…” he closes his eyes, sighing heavily at the image you cast in his head. “I think I need to teach you some manners, dirty girl.”

“I’m counting you’ll at least try.” You smirk and Namjoon chuckles.

In a smooth motion, he takes his shirt off, exposing his broad, sculpted chest. Smug takes his face at the way you shamelessly gawk at him, and he kneels at the floor, hands harshly yanking you to the edge of the bed by your pants, before he finally slides them down your legs.

Namjoon straight out moans when he notices the large pool of arousal staining your panties.

“Damn, baby” his voice is barely audible and you squirm, shutting your legs to try and provide some friction. “You want to be fucked this bad?” His hands come up your thighs to part them, gaze transfixed in your core, layered by the thinnest lace of underwear.

“I want to be fucked this bad by— by you, shit.” You stutter as Namjoon lips meet your legs, biting and licking the soft flesh.

He trails kisses along your thighs, closing the distance to your cunt, but instead of touching you where you need him to, his lips simply hover over you. You let out a low curse when he continues his path to your other thigh, licking and sucking roughly.

“Namjoon, please.”

“Please what, princess? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you.”

“I want your lips.“

“They’re right here.”

“I just told you.” You whine.

“Fucking tell me again if you really want it.”

“Please, eat me out, baby.” Your voice is pathetically high, but you couldn't care less.

“Since you asked so nicely” the look of his dimples between your thighs is the most beautiful obscene thing you've ever been graced with.

Namjoon shoves your panties to the side, and the way he curses your name out has you forgetting how to breathe.

“The prettiest fucking pussy, so fucking wet for me” he groans “I bet I could slip right in.” And you’re sure he’s right, feeling your lust dripping down your ass.

Namjoon seems to like the way you squirm under him, because instead of fulfilling his promises, he blows a cold puff of air over your folds and the way you shudder has his dick twitching. 

“Namjoon, for fuck’s sake.” He chuckles. “I'll fight you, I swear to god.”

He brings his finger to glide up your entrance, effectively shutting you up.

Namjoon teases you, pulling your folds apart before spreading your slick around them, leaving you all nice and sloppy for him. His eyes flick up to the way your chest rises and falls above him, then his gaze returns to your drenched cunt.

How are you supposed to survive the night if he keeps looking at you like that? Like you are sin incorporated? 

He finally brings his face to you, licking a long stripe along your pussy and collecting all your juices on his way up to your clit, where he swirls his tongue before sucking, hard.

You can’t help the loud cry that exits your throat, nor how it elongates when Namjoon hums in pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good.”

One of your hands flies to his hair, twisting and pulling carelessly, while the other gathers his sheets in your fists.

You jolt your hips up to meet his face as he continues to lap at your cunt and when he drags the tip of his hot tongue to part your folds and pushes it inside your walls, Namjoon has to pin you down to prevent you from lifting off the bed.

“So fucking good, baby” you moan, fumbling with his hair.

“Yeah?” His deep voice against your heat makes your head fall back.

Namjoon feel his control dissolving pretty fucking fast as he takes in all that you can give him, arousal gushing out of you for him to feast.

His tongue explores your cunt and he softly takes your clit in between his teeth. You feel a sharp pressure growing in your stomach and you grind on his face seeking more of it.

“Shit! Do that again, please” you yelp, and he promptly nibbles down at your clit.

Namjoon starts to focus on your now swollen nub, while he slides his hand down, and before you can process his intentions, you feel the delicious push of two of his fingers inside of your cunt.

The sound you let out has Namjoon’s mind blanking. You arch your back, squeezing your eyes shut as goosebumps crawl up your arms.

Namjoon lifts your legs to rest them on his shoulders, allowing himself to go deeper into you and he speeds up his movements, his fingers scissoring you open for him. Namjoon eats you up like his life depends on it, sucking the soul out of your body.

Sinful squelching and slurping noises fill his room, and he wants those sounds imprinted to his brain, your pussy loudly dripping for him.

In a sudden movement, he curves his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. Your breath tries to keep up with your racing heart while the knot in your belly threatens to snap.

You let go of his sheets, hand coming up your chest, cupping your boob just slightly before pinching your hard nipples, the sensitivity making you squirm, Namjoon's groan between your legs just spurring you on, the sight of you unraveling above him the most erotic thing he's ever seen — and to know he's the one making you shiver like that makes his cock painfully hard.

You rest your hand beside your head, trying to steady yourself somehow and failing miserably.

Your mind is empty, his tongue washing away any lingering thoughts or worries you’ve ever had, as if you know nothing but the feeling of his lips wrapping around your folds and the maddening drag of his fingers inside of you. 

When your legs start to shake and your walls clench around his digits, Namjoon slightly parts his lips from you, but without pausing his fingers — if anything, he starts to pump them faster.

"You gonna cum?"

You nod.

Your lower lip will definitely be bruised tomorrow.

"Words, baby girl."

"Yes! Yes, I’m close" you cry.

"Look at me." He demands, and you do as he says.

You support yourself on your elbows, meeting his firm gaze on you.

The sight of Namjoon between your thighs, chin glistening as your arousal drips from his mouth, and the fact that he still hasn’t stopped fingering you, make your whole body quiver, your stomach contracting hard, and you have to gather all your self control to not cum just from his looks.

Fuck, you wish you could take a picture.

"Want you to look at me when you come." You clench around his fingers. "Can you do that for me, princess?"

"Yeah" you are like… twenty percent sure you can.

Namjoon grins to himself in triumph. You’re already already this fucked out and he’s barely begun with you.

His mouth returns to your core. Honestly? Namjoon's knees are surely bruised from the hard floor, scraping whenever he moves further against you. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck as his tongue worships you in earnest, your name falling from his lips like prayer while his fingers stretch you so fucking good, pushing you to the edge of your orgasm.

"Jesus, Namjoon, that’s it" you feel silly, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my face." He commands, register so low you barely hear him.

The feral look he directs you alongside his words make your orgasm hit you in a strong wave, your body lifting from the mattress and shaking vigorously. Namjoon’s hand spreads over your stomach to try and pin you down as he keeps his tongue lapping at you, drinking up all your essence and helping you ride out your high.

He groans at the way your browns shoot up your forehead, mouth silently parting as your head falls back.

You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.

You push his head away from you when your legs start to tremble from oversensitivity, searching for air.

Namjoon puts your panties back in place, the soaked clothing sticking to your eaten out pussy and making him hum, satisfied.

"That’s it, baby, you did so well for me."

"Fuck" you whisper, running your fingers through your hair. The shockwaves of your orgasm are still making you shiver when you pant, "what the fuck was that?"

Namjoon chuckles, slowly lifting himself from his bruised knees.

His stare on you falters when he darts his tongue out to collect your cum from around his mouth, eyes fluttering shut.

He climbs up the bed, careful not to crush you as he brings his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and he swallows the quiet whine you make before pulling away.

Namjoon takes his wet fingers and wraps around his mouth, sucking his fingers clean with his eyes closed.

When he looks at you again, something unreadable crosses his gaze before he gulps. "Can I spit in your mouth, pretty girl?"

Your reaction betrays your answer, thighs immediately pressing together as a new wave of arousal shoots through you at his request.

But Namjoon still waits until you say: "Fuck yeah, you can."

His smile is ridiculously innocent for the matter at hand.

"Then open up for me, princess."

And you do, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out as he grabs your jaw, hovering above you.

You close your eyes as a small globe of spit hits your tongue, and you swallow proudly, a content hum ripping from your throat. 

"Good girl, shit, that’s so hot."

He leans in to resume the kiss, making himself more comfortable between your legs. His clothed cock drags against your inner thigh.

Why is he still wearing pants?

"Namjoon" you call, between kisses.

"Uhm."

You take your hands to his torso, tracing freely and loving the way his skin shivers under your fingertips. From his broad shoulders to his firm abdomen, you explore his golden, sweaty skin above you, until you slide one of your hands down. Your palm touches his member, stroking it just slightly as you bathe in the broken moan he graces you with.

"Let me suck you off." You offer, feeling how hard — and thick, mind you — he is under your hand.

"Can you handle more?" His tone is teasing, but his look is genuine. 

You’re silent for a moment. What does he mean by that? Would he just… stop if you said no?

God, why is that so hot?

"Yeah, sweet boy. Wanna take care of you too."

The problem is that there’s no way Namjoon’s gonna last if you suck him off. He can barely control himself now, after tasting you and drawing all those sweet sounds out of you. His dick is already twitching under your half assed strokes, the slight discomfort from his pre cum staining his clothes a clear sign he needs to be inside you. He wants to make you cum again, but around his cock this time.

So he chuckles.

"Can you take it if I fuck you now?" You bite your lip, nodding. "Yeah? Tell me you want my cock, baby girl."

"I want you cock, Joonie." You spill, lips nearing his ear. "I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow."

Maybe not your brightest idea, but at this point you don't give a shit. Namjoon is the only thought on your mind and if you came that hard just from his fingers, you can’t wait to see what his dick will feel like.

"Fuck, I love your filthy mouth." He groans. "Sure you don’t need some time?"

"Nah… maybe leave the riding for later, though?" A coy smile crosses your face.

"Sure" he smiles back.

Namjoon kneels back on the bed, wincing a bit when his sore knee touches the crumpled sheets. Ignoring it, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket, taking a foil packet out of it.

He stands up, tossing the wallet aside before reaching for his belt.

"Let me" you ask, lifting yourself and sitting on your heels.

You take your hands to his thigh, caressing it before going to his belt, which you undo, eyes not daring to look away from his.

You bite your lip when your hands open his zipper, and you reach around him to grasp his pants, pulling them down slowly as he looks at you with nothing but lust, eyes tilting down to your bare chest.

"You honestly have the most amazing thighs."

He frowns in amusement. "Thanks?"

Usually you’re a big fan of reciprocity, and you might have considered taking your sweet fucking time with him, just like he did with you, if Namjoon hadn’t just give you one of the best orgasms of your life and if you didn’t feel arousal pooling again on your already soaked panties. So, instead, you just pull down his pants along with his briefs, his cock springing free.

Namjoon hisses at the feeling of the fabric dragging against his shaft, and you have to suck in a breath when you look at his thick member. It must be painful how hard he is at this point, dick angry and throbbing.

"Big boy indeed." You blurt out, making Namjoon laugh as he kicks his pants down his legs.

"Losing your confidence, princess?" Honestly? Namjoon has no business having such a pretty cock and being this hot. You feel like he should be illegal.

You curl your palm around his dick and give it a tentative pump. A long moan falls from his lips from finally receiving some attention.

"Namjoon?"

"Yeah."

"Can I at least taste you?" Are you fucking pleading?

He gulps.

"Please?" You pout.

He bites his lip — how could he ever say no to you looking up at him like that, the cutest pout on your lips, while you beg him to let you give him head? He'd give you anything.

"Shit, yes, you can."

You smile.

That's it. Namjoon's sure he's imagining you. Is he dreaming?

You inch closer, giving his tip an experimental lick and tasting his salty pre cum, riveting at the sweet sounds he lays out for you.

You spit on his shaft before you lick your way down him, smearing your spit all over his length, before giving his crown a light suck, prompting Namjoon to buck his hips into your mouth, and you welcome him.

You moan, feeling his weight on your tongue. He twitches between your lips when you hollow your cheeks.

You start to take him further, his tip grazing the back of your mouth while you pump what you can’t fit inside.

"Fuck, princess, you look so pretty sucking my cock." He groans, head tilting back for a second and squeezing his eyes shut.

When you start to bob your head faster, though, Namjoon gathers all his self control and pushes you away, and you release him with a small pop.

You pout, and his jaw tenses "why would you stop me then?"

"I wanna fuck you." He pumps his dick a few times, hand slipping easier with your saliva now coating him. "All I’ve been thinking about."

Namjoon rips the foil packet open with his teeth, securing the condom around himself.

You make a move to lay back on his mattress, but Namjoon shakes his head.

"Nah, baby, that’s not how I want you."

He slithers his arm around your torso, harshly turning you over. He yanks you by your waist, pulling your ass up to him. His hand runs down your spine, pressing your face on his sheets.

Namjoon positions himself behind you. His palm comes up to caress your ass before giving it a hard squeeze.

Namjoon parts your cheeks, and he brings his fingers to your folds, spreading them apart to stare at your pussy. He grunts upon noticing your cunt is already a mess for him again even if he’s just licked you clean.

"You got wet again from sucking my dick, princess?"

"You felt so good in my mouth."

Your words fuel him, and Namjoon doesn’t think twice before he inches closer and licks your folds, the tip of his tongue collecting your licking lust as he hums in pleasure.

"Sweetest fucking pussy" your eyes roll back.

Namjoon pulls away to admire the view. There are you, all pliant, waiting for his next action with your face pressed down his bed, your ass on display, pussy dripping in anticipation.

He never felt this fucking hard.

"God, you’re gorgeous. So beautiful for me like this."

He grips his cock, aligning himself with your entrance, but instead of just sinking it inside you, Namjoon drags his crown up and down your folds like he has all the fucking time in the world. Your spit mixing with your gushing arousal.

You groan — you wanna fight him.

"Namjoon" his name drips like sin from your lips.

"Uhm." He hums, distracted.

"Just fuck me already."

He smirks. 

"Now that’s no way of asking something, is it?" You groan. "Don't you wanna be a good girl for me?"

"Baby, please, can you fuck me? My pussy is so fucking wet right now." You whine, wiggling your ass, creating some, but not nearly enough, friction. "Please..."

Namjoon fucking loves your dirty mouth. "Good girl."

He slowly presses himself between your folds, shoving a loud moan from your throat.

You shudder from the intrusion, his tip deliciously splitting you up as it slides in your cunt.

"Shit, baby, you’re way too tight." He grunts. "Relax for me, princess."

Namjoon leans over you, his torso framing your back. He lays sweet kisses on your shoulders, and his hand on your hips starts to softly trace your skin, raising until he’s grabbing one of your boobs. He squeezes it, pitching your hard nipples.

His gentle touches make you melt, allowing for Namjoon to drag his cock further inside of you, finding little resistance as his thick cock stretches you up.

Your cunt engulf him so tightly that Namjoon feels his mind spiraling, and when his hips meet your ass, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Shit, I feel so fucking full."

He chuckles.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yeah, fuck. Gimme a sec."

You roll your hips slightly to try and get used to his size, but he’s filling you up so good that the tiniest of movements makes his shaft drag against your walls, a quiet yelp falling from your lips.

"Ok." You gulp. "You can move."

Namjoon licks his lips and smirks, hands tightening on your hips.

"Hold tight, baby."

He slowly pushes himself out of you, but doesn’t give you time to feel empty as he immediately comes slamming back inside. You gasp, body jerking forward.

Your pussy welcomes him with each thrust, swallowing him with the most wet sounds you’ve ever heard, and you start to push your ass back to try and take him further between your tight walls.

His cock moves in a merciless pace, and you feel like you forgot how to breathe.

How the fuck does he know how to move his hips like that?

You’re exhilarated, mouth open but not a single sound coming out. Overwhelmed by his soft moans above you, by the way he stuffs your pussy full of him, by the way you can feel your legs wet with your arousal gushing from your core.

You try to get your shit together, prompting your ass back to meet his thrusts, and when you finally find his rhythm — but not without the help of his firm hands dragging you against him — the slapping sounds become so vulgar that you sob.

"That’s it, baby, that’s what you wanted, right?" He mumbles, voice barely coherent as his throbbing cock relentlessly drills your pussy. "To be fucked so hard, to be so stuffed you aren’t able to speak, hum?"

You hum, feeling like you’ll scream if you open your mouth.

Namjoon doesn’t like it, though. He hates the way you’re suppressing your pleasing from him.

"I thought I told you I wanna hear you losing it, baby. Where’s your filthy mouth?"

"So… you… so good, Namjoon… fuck" you stutter.

"You like it?"

"Yeah, shit, go harder."

His eyes flutter shut for a second.

"Anything you want, princess."

Namjoon shifts his legs, trying different angles to make you unable to hold your pretty sounds in. He attempts a couple of ways before he sets his left foot on the mattress, and when he resumes his thrusting a loud scream rips from your throat.

"That’s it, Namjoon, god, there. Please, do it again." You plea, voice pathetically high as you clench around him.

Your moaning is fuel to him, and he starts to fuck you as hard as he can, loving how you’re spiraling under him, tortured sounds finally reaching his ears.

"You feel so good, baby." You say and Namjoon growls.

Just as blissful as the sensation of his cock deep inside of your tight walls, is knowing that he’s making you feel on the fucking moon too. So, he seeks the same spot over and over again, his purpose clear.

You roll your hips, grinding on his cock.

God, it's such a shame you're not into degradation. All Namjoon wants it's to call you his slut.

"Shit, princess, you’re so greedy, fucking yourself with my cock."

You push your ass back again, but this time you feel his balls slapping against your clit and you both falter as lightning courses through your bodies, making you constrict your pussy around him.

"Do that again, baby girl." He commands, and you fucking obey.

You clench around his cock again, and Namjoon goes feral.

His strokes are hard, but so fucking precise that the way he’s railing your pussy makes you feel like you’re losing your grip on reality. 

Shit, this is too fucking good, and Namjoon feels dizzy. If he wasn’t drunk before he certainly feels like it now, thoroughly enjoying the way you’re completely unraveling under him.

"You’re squeezing me so good, so fucking tight for me." He groans out.

His fingers dig into your flesh in a way that you’re sure it’ll definitely bruise — but you want it too. You want him to mark you all over with the evidence of how good he’s fucking you, of how good he’s making you feel.

Your mind is clouded. Your knuckles sore from how hard you’re clutching the sheets.

Namjoon’s so fucking satisfied, pride exuding from his body as he looks down at you on his bed, being fucked senseless as he drills his cock in and out of you, loud slapping and squelching sounds making it even more obscene.

"You take me so well, shit, such a good girl." Namjoon groans, hypnotized by the way your body rocks with the force of his thrust.

You could die a happy woman just from the way he praises you. His words making your stomach twists in what you’re sure will be another mesmerizing orgasm. 

"I could fuck you all night, baby, and I just know you’d take it."

"Yeah, Namjoon— I, I would." You yelp. "I will."

He has the audacity to chuckle. 

"I’ll hold you up on that offer later."

You’re already so close again. God, you don’t wanna come like this, you don’t wanna come so soon.

"Namjoon?" You call and he hums in response. "I wanna ride you."

Did he win the lottery or something? He feels like he doesn’t deserve it. God, he missed like, three essay deadlines this semester, he definitely doesn’t deserve it. 

"Fuck, yeah, baby, you can ride me."

He slips out of you, and wastes no time crawling to sit at the headboard.

Namjoon reaches out to hold you, helping you straddle him with your wobbly legs. He laughs when you take a deep breath, goosebumps all over your skin.

"You sure you can ride me, though?"

"Shut up" you hiss, trying to concentrate before you wrap your hand around his length and lift over him to align him with your entrance.

A shaky cry falls from your lips as you gradually sink in his dick. The stretch is completely different and his fat cock splits you open so deliciously that you somehow feel even fullen than before.

"Fuck, I love this position." He reads your thoughts.

You just nod, unable to think as you find purchase on his shoulders. When you’re finally fully seated, you feel like Namjoon's cock is touching your soul.

"Fuck, Namjoon, you’re huge."

His face is all scrunched up, brows knit together in pleasure, and you’re almost angry at how beautiful this man is. The nerve.

"God, this pussy so fucking tight."

You take a deep breath, and swiftly roll your hips over him. Namjoon’s head thumb back and you feel so fucking powerful when his hands grab your ass, trying to guide you over him to reproduce the feeling. So you grind on him again, making his cock reach spots you didn’t even know you had.

After rolling a bit more on his lap, you muster all the strength you can and lean back, planting your palms on his thighs — have you mentioned how fucking beautiful his thighs is? — before slowly raising yourself.

The second time you drag your pussy down his length is even more delicious, and it makes you feel so good that you feel like this is wrong in some way.

Ok, who are you kidding?

You’re both pure sin at this point. There’s no turning back from the obscenities you two said tonight.

So yeah, fuck it.

You try to focus as you slowly start to move your hips up and down, regretting all the times your friends tried to convince you to exercise and you didn’t, because you can’t seem to find a pace.

But Namjoon, so very attentive to your needs, grabs your hips, helping you establish a sluggish pace — but a pace nonetheless.

You gradually start to feel more comfortable, more capable, and Namjoon’s grip on your waist is now more for his own sake than yours when your movements speed up.

Soon enough, you’re riding him in earnest, in a hard rhythm that makes you meet his pelvis each time, his thighs quiver under your weight in the most gorgeous way as you send Namjoon to the places he not long ago made you visit. 

A proud grin settles on your face, watching him grunt with each stroke. 

"You're so good for me, baby, letting me fuck you like a good boy" you echo his words, almost teasing, but your shaky tone betrays you.

"You fuck me so good, princess."

Shit, you feel lightheaded.

Namjoon bites his lip, eyes transfixed on your bouncing tits. He takes your boobs in his palms, caressing and grasping them softly, your sounds music to his ears.

Your gaze falls to his neck, not nearly enough marked by you, so you dive to his throat, tongue licking up to his ear before you start to kiss and suck harshly at his pulse points, making him moan loudly into your ear.

"You’re so sweet and big for me" you say, clenching around him and you feel his dick twitching inside.

"Shit, baby, do it again." He asks, and you promptly close your walls around him again.

Namjoon’s not sure how long he’ll last with you on top of him like this, riding the soul out of his body while your lips worship his neck. But he needs you to come first — or rather, again, but this time around his throbbing cock.

Thankfully you’re not far. Your lower belly is contracting, nearing your high, and you’re so gone that you could tell Namjoon you love him at this point, you don’t even care — and you don’t think he does either.

"You’re so good for me, my pretty girl."

His? Shit, can you have that on paper?

"All yours, baby."

You yelp when Namjoon’s thumb finds your clit and starts rubbing you. The pad of his fingers spreads your wetness over your bundle of nerves, your heart ramming against your ribcage.

"Baby, I’m… I’m close." You're fucking panting, that's what you are.

"Thank god." He breaths. "Can I take over, princess?"

You nod, and Namjoon circles his strong arm around your waist, turning you without slipping his dick off of you.

When he suits himself above you, you immediately wrap your legs around his torso, and Namjoon starts to fuck you like he’s made for it. Fuck, why does he feel like he is, though?

His thrusts are relentless, but he uses his last working braincell to aim his cock against the spots he’s learned that make you cry louder — which you do.

Your hands grip at his hair, tugging hard as your head falls back.

You have to gather all the focus you possibly can to open your mouth, your voice barely a whisper.

"Choke me, baby."

Namjoon gulps.

"What."

"Please, choke me."

"Shit, princess." Is this what dying feels like?

Namjoon closes his hand around your neck, fingers pressing down your pulse points as he feels your erratic heartbeat slightly soothing under his fingertips. Why is this so hot?

Your every sensation is heightened. His cock heavenly railing you, his hot breath fanning against your sweaty skin, the loud sounds that fall both from where your bodies meet and from his mouth.

It takes barely a minute before white spots blur your vision. The tight not in your stomach snaps so fucking hard a scream leaves your parted lips.

Namjoon wants to know how to immortalize the way your face scrunches up when you come — would you let him do it again just so he can take a picture?

The force of your orgasm makes your pussy clench hard around his cock, and you milk him and your body quivers violently. When your back arches from the bed, his bed, he swears you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

His thrusts become shallow, and you’re still rocking with the afterwaves of your orgasm, fighting through the overstimulation when Namjoon feels his own high approaching, so he quickly pulls himself out of your cunt.

He rips the condom off of his cock, tossing it wherever for him to mind later, and starts to pump himself above you. And what a fucking sight to behold.

"Come for me, baby, you’ve been so good, I want you to come all over me."

And like the good boy he is, Namjoon immediately does.

His hot white cum paints your belly just like he promised, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he empties himself over your stomach until he’s thoroughly spent.

You look down, wetting your lips before you bring your finger to your belly. You collect his cum with a flicker of your finger, and take your hands to wrap your mouth around, tasting his salty orgasm with a satiated hum.

Namjoon shudders. In that second, he wants nothing more than to come again just to see you eat his cum out of yourself once more.

"You’re a fucking menace, you know that?"

You smile innocently, and he falls beside you on his sheets.

Namjoon’s breath is uneven, and he brings his hands to push his hair out of his face.

You turn to him, a large grin on your lips. Namjoon’s eyes find yours.

"What?" His lips curve upwards.

"Fuck, sweet boy, I think I’m in love."

You two start giggling, you shake your shoulders in pure mirth while his laugh reverberates all through his body — you both find those sounds just as attractive as the obscenes ones you were eliciting just now.

It takes some time before your shared amusement softly becomes small snickers. 

"Still with the sweet thing?"

"You’re the best I’ve ever had, baby, you’re definitely my sweet boy." He takes his lips in his teeth, shaking his head. 

"I’m the best, huh?"

"Hell, yeah, I’m fucking giggling, Namjoon. Really, what the fuck."

"You’re the best pussy I’ve ever had. I honestly couldn’t be happier your brother bailed on you."

"Shut up." You playfully shove his shoulder, chuckling.

"Seriously, though, introduce me to him, I need to thank him."

"Don't ruin it." You joke.

You both fall into a comfortable silence, collecting your breaths.

"Wait, be right back."

Namjoon lazily gets on his feet, grabbing the used condom from the floor and heading to his bathroom, closing the door.

He returns a couple minutes after, a towel in his hand as he crawls back to bed and starts to gently clean your stomach, reaching your pussy and easing the mess he’s made of you.

"Thanks."

"Don’t mention it." You try to get out of bed, but your shaky legs make you stumble as you get up.

Namjoon quickly helps you steady yourself, a proud smile curving his lips.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure."

"Uhm… also, do you mind if I stay the night?" You ask, glancing at the clock on his bedside table, noting it’s way past one in the morning.

"Princess, I expect you too." Namjoon smirks. "We’re not nearly done."

Namjoon somehow can look even better in the morning.

You wake up feeling his serene heartbeat beneath your ear, his arms enveloping you and your legs entangled.

You’ve been just peacefully staring at him for around ten minutes now.

At first it was because you feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, sore to the bones. But then, it was because he’s just so damn beautiful you couldn’t help it.

He takes a deep breath, stretching his limbs as he wakes up, yawning loudly. You inch closer and give him a quick peck on his cheek, before resting your chin on his chest.

"Good morning, pretty girl" he smiles, opening his eyes and tugging you closer.

"Morning, sweet boy."

"How long you’ve been awake?"

"Not sure. Ten minutes?"

"Wow, and you’ve just been staring at me? That's so creepy." You roll your eyes, and he chuckles.

Neither of you speaks for another couple of minutes, bathing in the calmness of the morning.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Yeah. Really sore, though."

"Well, you asked for it."

"I did, didn’t I?" You grin. "And you gave it to me like the good boy you are." You tease, kissing his lips.

He reciprocates the touch, but neither of you takes it further.

So. Fucking. Tired.

"I see I wasn’t able to teach you how to behave."

"I’m a lost cause, but I appreciate the effort." He huffs out a laugh, closing his eyes.

"What time is it?"

You turn on his hold to face his clock. "Almost ten."

"Hum."

Namjoon doesn’t make any move to get up, and you start to look over his room. For some reason, you didn’t pay it the slightest attention the night before.

"You in college?" You ask, when you notice tons of books piled on the floor near his dresser.

"Yeah, in my last year."

"Uhm, so pretty boy is also intelligent." He snickers.

"My good looks can be deceiving."

"I was deceived indeed. You have such a dirty mouth, I was baffled." He shoves you away from his grip, groaning.

"You're one to say, the filthiest girl I’ve ever met."

"The filthiest? You flatter me." You laugh, as he playfully pushes you to the other side of the bed. "Oh c’mon, you liked it."

He smiles. "Yeah, I did."

He’s so tender you almost feel shy.

"What do you study?"

"Literature."

"It suits you." You say, scanning his face.

"Thanks, I really like it. But what about you? Aren’t you in college?"

"I graduated last year."

"What you do?"

"Architecture."

"That’s nice."

"Yeah. I’m on a work trip, actually."

"You’re not from here?"

"No, I live in Busan."

"Oh. My roommate is from Busan."

"You have a roommate?" You ask, mortified, but Namjoon chuckles.

"Don’t worry, he was out. He didn’t hear the way you were screaming last night." You shake your head, a smile on your face. Namjoon breathes deeply before lifting to a sitting position on the bed. "Want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, I’d like that. Let me just use the bathroom real quick."

"Ok. Do you like toast? That’s basically the only thing I can make."

"Finally!"

"What?" He frowns.

"Finally you have a flaw, oh my god, I was losing hope" you say dramatically, raising your arms.

"Can't have you falling in love now, can I?" He jokes and you laugh.

Namjoon gets out of bed and you follow, heading for the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

He smiles to himself, shaking his head.

He makes his way to his kitchen, finding his roommate already there, eating his breakfast.

"Morning." He announces himself, and Jimin turns to him.

"Hey, man" he smiles mischievously, cocking his head in the direction of your clothes lying on the floor "how was the party last night?"

Namjoon's brief concern for forgetting to gather the clothes you took off in the kitchen quickly dissolves into a smirk.

"The party? Oh, I kept it in my room."

"All night?"

"All fucking night." They both chuckle. "She’s in the bathroom, so please be civil when she comes here."

Namjoon goes to his cabinets, grabbing some bread to prepare you something to eat.

"Sure, man."

"What about you? You arriving now?"

"I came home around six, I think, so I just crashed. Woke up half an hour ago."

"And how was it with that guy?"

"It was mid. But hey, it was worth the shot. Even if he has no fucking game he's still hot as fuck."

"Sorry to hear that." Jimin shrugs. 

"And what about this girl, huh?"

"Man, this girl…" Namjoon trails off, shaking his head "so fucking hot, I felt like I was dreaming."

"Really? You seeing her again then?"

"Don’t think so, she’s not from here."

"That’s too bad."

"Yeah, it’s whatever. By the way, do you wanna hang out later? There’s this music festival going on and I have no one to go with."

"Don't know, I’m probably going out with my sister today, she flew from Busan to see me."

"Oh nice. Maybe you could introduce us."

"Yeah, if she’s down maybe we can all go together to this festival." Namjoon nods.

He leans on the counter, facing Jimin, and smiles once he sees you coming from the hall.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Jimin turns back when Namjoon acknowledges you.

"Oh, hey sis!" Jimin greets automatically — before freezing completely.

Both yours and Namjoon’s eyes widen in terror.

"Chim?!"

"Wait— she’s your sister!?"

"Jimin’s your roommate from Busan?"

You stand still in the hallway, watching mortified as your brother's face contorts in a grimace, realization hitting him before he shoots his friend a deadly glare.

"God, Namjoon, you fucked my sister?!"

"I didn’t know it was your sister!"

"Man, you’re fucking gross!"

"The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!" You ask, indignant.

"My sister’s not hot!"

"Jimin?!"

"Can’t agree with you on that one, man, sorry." Namjoon argues.

"Those are my sister’s clothes, man?" He continues, ignoring what his friend said for his mental health’s sake, before he turns to you. "And you’re wearing his clothes? What the fuck?!"

"Jimin, stop being a child."

"You came to Seoul to fuck my roommate?!"

"You’re the one who stood me up last night. To fuck, may I remind you."

"Thanks for that, by the way." Namjoon interjects, winking at you, and a small smile crosses your lips before Jimin groans, exasperated.

"Seriously, man?! And what the hell happened to your neck, did he fucking punch you?"

"God, no! I just cho—"

"Shut up! God, I can’t fucking look at your two right now, unbelievable." He says, getting up in a hussle before striding to his room, cursing under his breath.

You and Namjoon are left alone in the kitchen, silence filling the room.

You gauge his expressions, realizing he’s doing the same.

"Thank fuck he wasn’t here last night." Namjoon says after a while, and you can’t contain the laugh that escapes past your lips.

"You really had to thank him, though?" Namjoon bites his lips. 

"I'd feel bad if I didn't. Mom taught me to be grateful." He bites his lip. "Do you still want that toast?"

You smile. "Sure, sweet boy."

note ↠ sooooo, what do you think? i really hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did! it took some time for me to finally be satisfied with it, and i have like, ten versions lost somewhere in my google docs lmao links ↠ navigation | masterlist | join my permanent taglist

[weird-an]

Billy makes himself a microwave dinner on his birthday. Eating alone, because Neil took Susan on a date to Indianapolis and Max is out somewhere with the Creepy Kids Club.

Swanson Fried Fucking Chicken Dinner. That's how Billy treats himself for turning 18. For somehow surviving until today, more or less by accident.

It tastes bland and nearly burns his tongue, but that doesn't matter. Billy has a bottle of cheap liquor waiting for him. The birthday present he got for himself to wash away the bitter taste of a failed childhood. He didn't even had to kiss the cashier for that, just show off a little skin and give her a wink. A giant win.

He's halfway through the bottle when the doorbell rings. Which he considers to just ignore and then it rings again and well, he's ready to punch whoever dares to disturb his celebration of misery.

He opens the door. Steve Harrington stands in front of him. Hair fluffier than ever like he had styled it - for what exactly?

Harrington isn't his friend, not let alone his boyfriend, no matter what stupid dreams Billy sometimes wakes up with. They're fucking around and its fun. Billy gets to bathe in the sun shining right through Harrington's bright eyes, reminding him of home, but that's it.

And he isn't supposed to come here. Or even call the house. Billy told him that if Harrington dials his number once and that its fucking over - he didn't point out that it's Neil who is going to set an end to their fooling around.

"Happy birthday!" Harrington holds out a box with a giant blue bow on top for him.

Billy stares at the wrapping paper with little fishes on them.

"I don't do that," he just says. His throat feels tight and he wonders if he's already blackout drunk.

"What?" Harrington shoots him a look like he doesn't believe him for a second and then just walks inside the house.

The whole thing, Billy wants to answer. Bows, birthdays, gifts, friendship?

But he can't say anything, because Harrington is inside. Right next to Billy, gently removing his hand from where it's clutching the door knob and closes the door. He's inside the house and somehow they're both still alive.

"Where is your room?" he says, an unreadable expression flickering across his face when he sees the half eaten TV dinner and the amber bottle on the table.

Billy simply stands there, staring at him. "You can't be here."

Harrington snorts. "Apparently I can, Billy." There's that bitchy tone in his voice he always gets when he's disagreeing with something.

When Billy shows him his room, because he can't say no to Harrington's stupid dimples and crooked smile, he's so ashamed.

The ashtray is overflowing, Shauna Grant's eyes seem to judge him and his room just seems so gray and bleak. Harrington doesn't seem to mind. Studies the dart board and the book on the nightstand and then turns around to grin at Billy.

"Open your gift!" Harrington pushes the box in Billy's hand.

Billy has opened a gift before. He thinks. Or at least, he has seen Max opening hers. He tries to tear the wrapping paper. One fish still loses a fin.

Concert tickets. For Mötley Crüe playing in Chicago. In November.

"I'm coming with you." Harrington sounds weirdly enthusiatistic. "If you want me to."

Which means that he wants to hang out with Billy after graduation. After he should go fuck off getting a business degree and marrying a girl that can give him six freaking kids.

It's too much. Not only the tickets, but that Harrington is wanting to continue ... whatever this is. Harrington wanting them to go to Chicago. On a whole trip. To go see one of Billy's favourite bands.

"You... hate Mötley Crüe."

"I like Live Wire."

Which is the first song Billy ever made Harrington sit through, after they shared a smoke, still dizzy from the orgasm. It makes Billy's chest hurt.

"Don't you like it?" Harrington's brown eyes get huge. Like when Billy really has to leave because Neil expects him to mow the lawn or some shit and Steve asks for another quickie.

But Harrington isn't asking for sex right now. Or is he?

"I do," Billy admits. He likes it too much. The gift, the warm feeling inside him, Steve. "Thanks?"

Well. He's got to pay him back somehow, doesn't he? His hands are on Steve's belt, but Steve just takes them, intertwining their fingers.

"It's a gift," Steve says, slowly.

"Your huge dick is a gift," Billy mumbles, ignoring the burn of his cheeks and trying not not stare at Steve's pink lips.

Steve winks at him.

"You'll get that later. Now I'm hungry," he says, pressing a kiss on Billy's lips. Casually. As if that's a thing they do. Kiss a little, cuddle, like they are something.

Billy warms him another microwave dinner. Which tastes awesome now, somehow. Like a Michelin prized meal. His heart is racing the whole time and he feels drunk and sober at once.

He watches Steve chewing, cheeks stuffed full and radiating warmth and happiness. Which seems like a gift, too. This is the best birthday...maybe in forever.

@harringroveweek

[riise-my-anngel]

Idk i just think theres something to say the brothers all realizing what time period you are trapped in and the way they fall apart.

Lucifer and Belphie understand the others fear. Both of them came close to, or succeeded in killing you and they know that time period they WILL try again and thats terrifying. They've done a lot to personally grow from their actions towards you.

And they both have nights where they sit in Lucifers study, drinks in their hand, discussing if they could live with themselves if you are killed by their past selves. And also what happens if you come back, but sre scared or lost trust in their present selves.

Its the most honest the two of of them have been in a long time. Their unique out of the brothers. Their violence towards you was unforgivable but yet you not only forgave them but now love them. Lucifer and Belphie are powerless to protect you from their past selves and they hate themselves for being such violent demons that they know hurting you is probable.

Satan, well, no one understands. He barely does. His room is a wreck. He hasn't been like this in centuries. He has no idea what his past self is capable of towards you all he remembers is his hate for his brothers and no amount of magic would spare you from his wrath tearing your body into peices.

Everyone at RAD is terrified of Satan, everyone who isn't the brothers, angels, or the royals refuse to bring your name up. He's already had to pay for damaging quite a few walls and doors because lesser demons would comment to him about him "finally losing his dumb little pet".

It isn't lost on Satan that the very fact that you're trapped in a time period where his wrath is dangerous and unpredictable, and that has led his present self to cope by being dangerous and unpredictable. He just isn't himself without you anymore.

Levi is lost in a fantasy world. Its easier to pretend you're just in your room if he hides away to his anime and his video games. He can just pretend everything is fine but the second he remembers your not there? Well the HoL isn't the only place that has had issues with Lotan being summoned. A lesser demon made a comment about the "human finally moving on from the lord of losers" and whoops guess that demon and quite a few others drowned to death. Over and over again until Diavolo had to step in and make Levi stop.

Beel can't figure out if he's ravenous or if he never wants to eat again. He fluctuates, some days he destroys whatever kitchen he's in, be it HoL, RAD cafeteria or just whatever restaurant he happens to be nearby. Other days he spends hours in the kitchen making your favourite devildom food, trying to recreate the human world food you two made together, but once its done he feels sick to his stomach that you can't just be there cooking with him and he can't see that shy smile you hide behind your hand when you have something you love. So he just tosses them onto the dining table for the brothers and goes to Fangol practice instead. At least he is more allowed to be aggressive there.

This is worse then losing Lilith, because he might never know what happened to you. Protecting people was his JOB and if he couldn't protect you, then its worse then having to choose betwern siblings lives. It means Beel failed before even trying, in his eyes.

Asmo doesn't recognize himself. He didn't realize how much time his vanity was actually spent with you in his chair and him draped over you behind him constantly doting on you. He buys things he thinks you'd look stunning in or things with your favorite scent and as soon as he gets home? Well not much gets kept. He throws the bottles at his tub until its a scattered mess of liquids that needs to be cleaned and clothes he bought you get torn up. Why should he keep them if you never come home, they would just be a reminder of what he can never see again. He doesn't recognize his reflection without you. You love him for who he is not what he looks like, but all alone he can never see the good you saw in him and he hates that all is left in his reflection is a bitter, miserable demon who lost the only person who loves him for his inner self.

No one even tries to sleep with him, he didn't fool around once you two shared your feelings but now hes offended at even being propositioned. These demons, succubus and incubus, they all just see his face and body and want a peice. You looked him in the eye and fell in love without any charm or magic. Who do these people think they are assuming they could ever live up to you? Many nights he goes out, he ends up physically attacking people who dare get too touchy with him.

Mammon tried. He really did. He wanted to keep his brothers together, but it just isn't working. No one knows if you're alive anymore and Solomon has stopped bothering trying to send word through time to update on your status. Once Solomon stopped? The brothers couldn't stand listening to Mammon being calm and rational anymore. No one knew if you were ever coming back and Mammon didn't know how to make them believe otherwise when he didn't know himself.

He's not in the house a lot anymore. He spent too much time with you in that house he can't stand the sight of it. Ironically he's never been richer. He doesn't see the joy in schemes or ploys without you to scold yet indulge him, you're not around to spend it on, so he just gambles. Wins more, has nothing to do with so he gambles.

In a winning streak, he'd either pull you right to his side or just haul you onto his lap to show off his pretty little good luck charm. Now he's winning all on his own and he doesn't give a shit about any of the people around vying for his attention or time. They ain't you, but he'll take their money cus what else is he going to do. You're not there and no one has the right to even think they could replace you.

They all know one thing though. If you never come back, Solomon better never come back either because they'll take out every single bit of pain on him for as long as the sorcerer could survive it.

[ghostingghostingghosted]

Lyons and Tigers and Bears (and Gator too) Oh My!

So I've been a Fargo viewer since S2 and have followed each season relatively closely (except most of S4). Noah Hawley is a sucker for hidden messages and meanings, as well as using symbolism derived from inspiration, such as - as shown in S4 - Alice in Wonderland. Hawley symbolically uses Alice in Wonderland in S5 as much as S4, but with a heavier focus on the dangers - "Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!" Here is an analysis of how some character behaviors entwine with their representative animal's instinct.

SPOILS BEWARE AHEAD

CASE STUDY #1 - WOMEN REPRESENTING LIONESSES

Everyone should know that a group of lions is called a pride. Within a pride, there are multiple lionesses, and one or two male lions which usually have a monopoly on these lionesses. The male lions exploit these lionesses as multiple mates and depend on them for food typically. Mating aspects aside, the group of lionesses are the ones who hunt prey for the pride. Male lions can also hunt for themselves, but I digress with the following statement: when the lionesses are successful in the hunt, they have to eat their share quickly before the male lions come and take the rest of the meat. The male lions have the purpose of protecting the pride from other hostile, wandering male lions, so they're not completely useless.

But that's not the point of this post.

Lorriane Lyons and Indira Olmstead, in my humble opinion, show two sides of a lioness. Their husbands, respectively, represent the male lions and their exploitation of the women's work.

Lorraine Lyons represents the strength, determination, and intelligence of a lioness. I mean, come on! Lyons = lions. Did I just blow your mind with that connection?

Lorraine Lyons has a husband, Mr Lyons. As far as I remember, we don't see him until episode 6 when he's visiting his son, Wayne, at the hospital. Did we even need to know Mr Lyons existed? In my humble opinion: No.

(Tinfoil hat: I thought Danish Graves and Lorraine had something going on, and Graves was Wayne's dad. Secret love affair or whatever.)

Mr Lyons serves no purpose than emphasizing just how much Lorraine works for her, and his, "food." She runs a multi-billion company as a debt collector (or whatever the professional term is). She looks flawless. She has zero time for bullshit. Can't you see she's busy? If it weren't for her, her husband wouldn't have his train collection we later see in the same episode (6). Although she acts like her family is a burden to her, we see in some moments of her immense love for her son: such as her over protectiveness of him and coldness towards the outsider Dorothy, and her love towards her granddaughter, Scotty. Again, in episode 6, we see a brief moment of her smiling when Scotty hugs her father, until she puts back on the facade of HBIC when she speaks with Olmstead. So far, we don't see how she interacts with her husband, which can stand for as its own evidence. Lorraine's scenes with her family and professional life show that they wouldn't be who they are today without her (wo)man power. Another interesting thing to note about Lorraine and her behavior as a lioness is how, even though she doesn't like Dorothy, she still considers her as part of the pride as she's the mother of her granddaughter and her son loves Dorothy. As the idea goes, you're as strong as the weakest link, and Lorraine knows she's better off protected with Dorothy on her side than trying to get rid of her, especially as the season goes on.

(Note: Lorraine had Dorothy committed. Okay, I get that. She still hates Dorothy and wants her gone. However, Lorraine plays the sibling game in that she can bash and ruin Dorothy all she wants - as long as SHE IS THE ONLY ONE DOING IT. When Roy Tillman came around sniffing for Dorothy, she refused to even entertain his wild ideas about responsibility and freedom, and even admitted to keeping Dorothy close because of her being the mother of her grandchild and the wife of her son. She kicked Roy Tillman's ass to the curb with a, "I don't like her, but she's a Lyon now, and you're a dipshit with a 'dead' wife." Rant over.)

Another side note: Regarding Wayne, Lorraine only helps him out in extreme cases of emergency. When he suffers the head injury from electric shock, she makes sure he has the best care and best hospital room. Anything outside of emergencies, he's on his own. While he's not the strong lion we typically picture, Wayne is a lion in his own right. Male lions typically leave the pride when they come of mating age and join another pride of unrelated kin females. Here, Wayne made his own pride with Dorothy and, later, Scotty. By the way, lion prides usually consist of mother-daughter kinship, with a few outsider females and one or two male lions. Wayne still has a long way to go, but we do see him protect Dorothy and Scotty in his own way, such lying for her to the police about her kidnapping, helping her against Gator and his accomplices, etc.

Moving onto Indira Olmstead, she represents the other side of a lioness, which is the exploitation. I won't be nice: her husband is the biggest piece of shit. Even though it would be assault, I wanted her to throw her scalding hot coffee in his fucking face when he went on a tirade about wanting a real wife. Well guess what, fuck face? She wants a real husband. Either go get a job or suck your wife's dick in appreciation. Ya know?

Her piece of shit husband wastes what little money they have on worthless dreams that don't go anywhere. At one point, he wanted to be a famous drummer. Now he wants to make it big at pro golf. He sucks ass. Hard. But that would be a compliment to him. The biggest point of his exploitation is complaining about how Olmstead isn't a wife while eating the food she puts on the table with her income. He doesn't help hunt aka get a job. He doesn't support her. I have a feeling that if Olmstead gets into trouble where her physical being is at risk, he'd run away! Fuck him! Also, he's no doubt cheating on her. Hope he dies. Or gets his dick cut off. One of the two.

CASE STUDY #2 - DOROTHY AS A TIGER

Dorothy Lyons may have taken on her second husband's surname, but she is far from a lion. Several times throughout the season, Munch, and even the narrator in a special episode, calls her as a tiger; in the episode with the narrator, she describes her behavior as the behavior of a tiger. And she is a tiger.

Unlike lions, tigers are not social cats. They are solitary except with mother-cub relationships up to a certain point. We have seen how exceptional Dorothy is at defending herself, especially when she is alone. A pride needs a male lion or two to protect the pride from hostile male lion outsiders. A tiger doesn't have the protection of a pride or pack against the forces of other hostile animals of the same or different species. Dorothy fought off two kidnappers, effectively killing one and wounding the other. She fucks up Gator's accomplices on Halloween through a series of traps and tricks. Later on, she puts up a good fight against the male nurses ready to take her away to the hospital. She outsmarts the FBI detectives. She continually outsmarts Roy Tillman and Gator.

While Dorothy, in her own way, loves her husband, I believe she used him and his family's wealth as a cover at the beginning of their relationship, but only for that extra layer of protection. Later on, she probably developed feelings similar to that of a non-sexual relationship, relying on him as a closely dear friend whom she can trust to protect her and especially their daughter when she isn't around. Anyway, she is cautious because she knows she can only rely on a select handful of people - if that. She goes at life like it's her vs the world, and rightfully so considering Roy's abuse of her during their marriage. Telling of this is how she springs into action when the PTA (?) meeting in E1 descends into chaos and she pulls out a taser on an unsuspecting cop.

CASE STUDY #3 - OLE MUNCH AS A BEAR

I love this character so much, and it's such a shame that everyone is (rightfully so) thirsting over Gator. We get it: pathetic boy with daddy issues and a middle schooler boy personality is cute and all, but when will people wake up and take on the may-be-may-not-be a sin eater from 1522, who is nice to old women, a killer of idiots, and how takes his jobs deadly seriously?

(Don't get me wrong, I like Gator as much as the next person, but everyone is sleeping on the King of the season imo.)

Anyway, I propose that Ole Munch represents a bear. Bears are the king of the forest. They can eat mostly everything, from nuts and berries to full on meat. They hibernate for some months out of the entire year. They can fuck up a full sized moose.

Munch's backstory revolves around starvation: starving so much that eating a deceased's sins is nothing compared to a few gold coins, a loaf of bread, and a goblet of wine - if we take that 1522 flashback as truth, or some part of the truth. Munch can also fuck someone's shit up: exhibit a): the two ranch hands ready to kill him at the Tillman's ranch and breaking Gator's arm; exhibit b): Gator's partner; exhibit c): the old woman's loser son in the latest episode.

When I think of a bear, I think of a creature motivated by food and a lot of it, especially male bears. Bears are one of the higher mammals on the food chain; the only danger to a bear is another bear - or maybe a big cat. Bears wander the forest in search of food, food, food. Unless they have to assert their dominance with another bear in the area, they don't have to worry about costly fights. (If you can stomach it, watch a YouTube video of bears fighting. It's crazy.)

In Munch's early scenes, we see him motivated primarily by money, or in essence, the means to buy food. He only goes out of his way to kidnap Dorothy because Roy Tillman promises him payment, and tries to re-kidnap her by any means, even when she has the upper-hand at the gas station. When he doesn't get paid by Roy, he then sets his sights on fucking with Roy and Gator.

Silent and deadly, but don't fuck with this guy - or shall I say, don't poke the bear. Nothing with Munch is nothing personal. I'd go as far to say him messing with Roy and Gator aren't for personal reasons. Gator keeps insulting Munch right to his face, but he doesn't react at all to it. He only reacts when he doesn't get his payment. Hell, I have a feeling that if Roy tried to kill him after paying him, Munch might not have reacted then, either. He probably would have gotten the hell out of Dodge in search of another job. It's just not worth it when a man's (or bear's) livelihood is at stake as long as food is readily available somewhere else.

Also, Munch always wear brown clothes. The latest is the fur-line neck of a brown coat he took from the old woman. Make of it what you will.

Further, I consider Munch a bear because he "hibernates" like one. When he isn't out causing chaos for Roy and Gator Tillman, he goes back to his place of shelter (aka the old woman's house)and rests there with a cigarette. I don't bother to do the math, but I bet you that half of Munch's time on screen focuses on his "hibernation" at this dark, cave-like home.

RANDOM THOUGHT ON GATOR

Is it just me, but why would Roy name his son Gator? So far, no one calls him by any other name but Gator, so we have to assume Gator is his legal name. Which, imo, is a stupid name.

(Do you think his dad named him after Gatorade? lol)

However, looking deeper, we have menacing characters taking on animal representatives: Lorraine and Indira as lionesses, Dorothy as a tiger, Munch possibly as a bear. Where does (a) Gator in snowy Fargo (or wherever the fuck) fit?

That's the thing: he doesn't fit.

Alligators, as said by the National Zoo website (googled) live in freshwater, slow-moving rivers, and also in swamps, marshes and lakes. Aka, Florida, North Carolina, and Texas. Fargo is the exact opposite of that description: cold, cold, snowy, and cold.

Therefore, Gator Tillman is metaphorically a "fish" out of water. He doesn't belong in this strange environment his father inhabits. He doesn't belong to Roy's idea of what a man should be. Gator doesn't know how to be himself, but he needs to survive and adapt because he's seen what happens when someone doesn't, so he tries to take on the personality of his father - but with heavy failures and setbacks. He isn't built to be like Roy. That's why, in my humble opinion, Gator has that strange name. It's showing how much he, a "Gator", doesn't fit the environment his father created. In the latest episode, Dorothy even mentions this. She says she still sees good in him, but he still wants to be Roy. This implies that a person cannot be Roy and still have goodness in them. The two shalt never intertwine. I'm pretty sure Gator's bio on the Fargo website says something similar to him wanting to become his father, but it never working out in his favor. He wants to be a "winner" or the fittest in survival. But he is struggling hard, and his father is quickly losing patience with him.

Rant over.

Note: Other than the Fargo tv series + movie, as well as some Reddit/Tumblr media consumption, I do not know anything about Noah Hawley or his writing style, inspiration, etc. Also, I did not do much, if any, research on the animals studied here. Everything comes from minimal knowledge. This is purely an opinion.

PS: It's come to my attention that Lyon is not spelled Lyons with an 's' at the end, but simply Lyon. I'm too lazy to fix this issue. Sorry. Also, sorry if there's any incoherent sentences and/or grammar issues. I needed to get this out of my system.

I would also like to say that a lot of my information, ideas, and opinions come from TV Tropes (website) where they have a lot of insightful facts about characters and their personalities, among other things. I suggest checking them out!

[eye-of-the-phoenix]

I want to like CRY so much

I just finished replaying it and I have so many opinions, as always. This game is unique for me in that I WANT to like it so badly but it just doesn't quite work. However, I stubbornly replay it and ponder what it could have been because I wish I liked it more. I especially feel this way because I live in New Orleans and its just so CLOSE to being good!

More thoughts under the cut.

PROS:

I actually think they did a great job with the setting. It's raining so hard that the power goes out and the streets are too flooded for cabs? There are weird creatures and bugs around every corner, some of which are messing with your belongings? The best food is from some sketchy stand served by some random Shorty person? Accurate, welcome to New Orleans. I can even forgive Bess for eating crawfish with the shells on with a spoon.

The characters are also good. Lamont is completely underutilized to where I'd never believe he was the culprit, but I can imagine running into all of these people throughout my day and it makes sense that they would all also interact with each other off-screen.

The core mystery is really interesting. It's the classic Nancy-gets-sucked-in-to-a-case-on-vacation scenario, but she really does stumble into the situation by accident in this one and has a personal stake because she gets attacked by the skeleton man. The progression is believable as she starts to unravel the skull mystery and discovers that Bruno's death was actually kind of suspicious.

My favorite ND trope, secret room/hideout/study revealed midgame, with a lot of things to look at and click on, is present.

CONS

The music is kind of a miss. It's not bad, but it should have been so much better. It has this boring CLK old-timey feel and they kind of missed the mark in my opinion. I think a more upbeat track with some brass, maybe something bluesy, maybe something modern would have added more variety.

The puzzles. THE PUZZLES ARE SO TEDIOUS. I hate that we find this book Bruno wrote and it's just a walkthrough to getting a bunch of eyeballs through various boring puzzles for the sake of padding the game. I use a walkthrough for like half of this game every time because I don't find the puzzles fun. My least favorites are the sneeze contraption because there is ZERO confirmation as to whether you're on the right track when you do it, and the tombstone pun puzzle because walking back and forth around the cemetery is SO TEDIOUS and it has zero replay value.

Bruno's house doesn't make sense because it's fairly spacious and kept up on the bottom story and the top floor that we can access is just two horrible moldy rooms. Bruno, you dropped dead from breathing in black mold in your own house, not a heart attack. Trust me when I say I know it's humid and wet here, but there's just no reason for the upstairs to be that uninhabitable indoors.

On a related note, I wish there was more to explore, and no, the cemetery doesn't count. There should be more rooms for Nancy to snoop through (where is Henry sleeping?) and like one more place for Bess to go. Or more things to do and click on in Zeke's aside from just looking at that one box a million times. Or the option to poke around Renee's table when she's away. NOT nearly enough snooping for me.

It's so dark. It's too dark. It could have been like 10% lighter or had a partial daytime element so that I could actually see what I was doing even a tiny bit.

[lummyzzz]

I had been studying for the past week, so here's a dumb 15 minute drabble about our favorite couple.

Leona Kingsholar x Ace Trappola (DTW)

Desperate.

.

.

.

.

.

Ace thinks he might have overestimated himself this time, perhaps even more than he had before, to even dare think that he could hold Leona's attenttion for long.

The little Halloween fiasco had spark a chance, sure, merely a few hours of wandering aimlessly in an unknown realm had provided Ace with the center of his attention for a short while. Perhaps Ace had manage to extend it far longer than it should, popping up cheeky here and there everytime Leona round a corner or with his nearing obsessed clinging days after just to hope that the senior would spare him another glance.

It got him a little pat on the head, nothing much, but maybe Ace had been smiling to himself more frequently every time he recall the shadows of it.

Yuu was right, Ace is desperate at this point.

But hey, it's not easy crushing hard for a prince, and neither was it everyday you get his attention for it.

Not that Ace could keep it for too long, not with this school constantly being the center of trouble and dragging them all into it. Halloween had soon become forgetful enough that no one talks about it anymore, not with the Masquerade shenanigans shinning in the spotlight of the huge rumor circle and its peculiar power pairings that had unexpectedly but cleverly solve the possible world's crisis.

A pair of senior and junior who got a bit along was nothing too remarkable anymore.

And that's the hard thing about NRC, if there are rumours and whispers circling about how much two people got along, then they would have a reason to get along. Approaching each others during meals for activities recanting random details about what they had done previously until the farce is strong enough that the circle regard them as such, then they could do that any other day.

Sometimes the freshmen wouldn't exactly follow this rule, switching between club activities or dorm outings, but Ace had never seen any other upperclassmen gets too chummy if no one had been talking about them.

So you see, Ace was nowhere close to even solidifying that rumour about him and Leona yet. Not when the senior's constant absence from lunch and his little fanclub of Savanaclaw students makes approaching him like hell on earth. Stumbling onto the greenhouse mid-day wouldn't work either, not when Ace values his life and reputation a bit too much to recklessly intrude on Leona's den then proceed to get fanboy plastered on his face.

So, like every other time Ace is met with a blockage in his road, he slumps. Face first on the lunch table with his friends glancing worriedly amongst themselves and seniors decking for another table at the earliest troublesome signs.

Real good friends, all of them.

"What happened?" Someone asks, settling themselves on his empty right side nearly touching his shoulder, a bit too close for personal spaces.

Ace assume it's Floyd in a rare good mood, the senior never had any respect for it.

"Life problems." Ace spits out, can't even be bothered enough to raise his head.

"More like love problems," Yuu muses to his left, "He has been tormenting us all like this for a week."

"Shaddup, I'm not doing it on purpose."

"The point still stands," His supposed best friend argues, tone unchanging even though he knows Ace's calling him all sort of names in his head. "Take him away and saves us all now, would you?"

"Yuu," Ace groans, turning his head to the left so he can actually scowl at the traitor. "You can't just sell me to Floyd-senpai because you hate feelings."

"Never said Floyd was buying." Yuu says instead, eating another spoonful of curry before he points it behind him. "You might wanna turn around."

Ace doesn't particularly want to see Floyd and his moody grin at the moment, but he turns anyway. Snapping his head back under the table and do a 180.

"You can't even recognize my voice?" Leona scoffs, still holding his chin in his hand as he cuts Ace a glare. "Some admiration you got, spikey."

What.the.fuck

Ace straightens himself immediately, part in shock and another in awe. Pulling his body from the table with a little jolt as his face flushs a crimson red.

Holy sevens, Leona came to the cafeteria during lunch, and sat next to him and even bothered participating in a bullshit conversation about buying Ace as a whole.

"What are you doing here?!" Ace asks in shock, volume hanging a bit high as he finally realizes just how much attention they were getting just from Leona settling there.

"You hadn't been sneaking around anymore," Leona answers, amusement in his tone. "Thought I might check if my biggest admirer broke his leg or some sort while I'm here." He stops, then a grin. "But go figured, you were encountering some different problems instead."

"Yeah, a big one." Yuu adds, playfully supporting this whole charade even though he could have just informed Ace of Leona's presence when he first came in. The fucking traitor.

"Shaddup!" Ace turns with a glare, it's not too intimidating to be honest, but it's the best he got when Leona's staring in his face. "You are officially the worst best friend ever." He glares at the rest of them, the traitors holding their head sideways to avoid his glare. "Worst.friends.ever."

"Fine by me," Yuu shrugs, not even minding Ace a tiny bit. "You heard him, he doesn't want us anymore."

Leona laughs, standing on his feet momentarily as he holds onto Ace's arm and starts dragging him up. "I'll take the brat then, could use a body pillow since I missed so much of my nap."

"Wait, what?!" Ace splutters, not exactly processing anything now that Leona's basically manhandling him out of his seat.

"You wanted a reason, right?" Leona offers, letting go once they were out of the seats before picking Ace up by his legs, the freshman slugs over his shoulder with an oof. "Let's make one."

"W-wait just a damn minute!" Ace yelps, elbows poking on Leona's neck as his hands tries for a proper grip on the gold uniform, struggling in the lion's hold without much progress. "You can't jus-- Leona-senpai! Leonaaaa!!"

Leona didn't mind the failing, not when he walks steadily out of the cafeteria with a screaming Ace on his shoulder as they onlookers crane their neck to follow. Some even poking their heads out of the door to stare as the third-year makes his way down the hallway, mumbling and whispering the newest rumour in circles.

Yuu and the rest continues on with their meals, the first-year looking a bit guilty as they cast some glances towards the laughing seniors and between themselves. But Yuu stays unaffected, chewing on another piece of curry even as Floyd slings an arm around him cackling nonstop and Riddle throwing a furious glare from his spot.

Ace came back to them before curfew, looking a bit worse to wear with a few bites on his nape and a swelling, cherry lip.

[heeseung-min]

hellooo can i ask for yandere (you choose) who bugs there darlings place with cameras, his just doing his daily stalking routine and he saw how stress their darling with acads to the point they breakdown? what will they do the next day? thank you sorry if it's too long

Let's do it for our maknae..its been long time i wrote him hehe..anyway thanks for the request hope you enjoy reading it.

[17:46]

You have been crying for 10 minutes. It was so frustrating when you got the answers wrong for many times. You studied the topic first before doing a revision but when you read the questions, it feels like you never learn about it before.

Not only that, your mom also has been bothering you for not getting good results on mock exam the other day. She even compared you to other kids. Your friends also called you dumb for taking long time to understand on something.

You got distracted when you heard a notification. Without thinking much, you read the text that you got.

Unknown:

Don't you think you should get a rest?

You must be so stress

You:

I think you got wrong number. I'm not your friend.

Unknown:

No, the message is for you y/n.

[You blocked this contact. Tap to unblock]

Shit, that's creepy. You felt goosebumps when you saw your name on the text. You got up and looked everywhere in your room trying to see any hidden camera but failed.

It took you two hours to calm down from the event. You swallowed a sleep pill before laying on the bed.

The next morning, you found a sticky note and steam buns on your table.

Hate to see your gloomy face. Eat this.

-Riki-

You smiled. Your best friend must have noticed it these days when you guys spend time together. Quickly, you sat down on your chair and eat the buns.

"Thanks, Riki. You must noticed me in a hard time when we spend time together."

"Yeah, you worried me so much."

He said as he watched you enjoyingly eat the buns he bought for you. Though, you had some facts wrong.

You were right when you said he noticed your behaviour when you were staying at his house, he heard you sighing so much.

But, he knows what really happened because of the camera he had put in your room.

He watched you every single night. He saw how your mother scolded you and he also saw you were crying that night when it became too much. Riki was in pain as well. Watching you being sad is a torture for him too.

But, he wouldn't tell you that.

No no.

And you will not suspect him as a stalker.

Because you guys are best friend.

--

🤣🤣ayy you come to the end. How was it? Hope its good for your time. Thanks for reading it.🤗🤗

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount

[entertext]

HGSN 19-2

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

==

P1

Tanaka: (Is he himself "Nounuki-sama"?)

Tanaka: (No, there's no way)

Tanaka: (But he is holding onto something strongly related to it)

Tanaka: (He's definitely come into contact with it)

Tanaka: (There are probably only two kids around high school age in this village)

Tanaka: (The Indou boy who went missing...)

Tanaka: (As I thought, something must have happened...)

P2

Tanaka: .......

Tanaka: (That thing doesn't have an ego much less any emotions)

Tanaka: (It should be more of a conceptual thing)

Tanaka: (Taking on a human form and living normally...)

Tanaka: (Is that even possible?)

Tanaka: ...Will the hound be able to find it soon...?

P3

--

Hikaru: You're a real animal-lover, aren't ya?

Yoshiki: You don't like them, Hikaru?

Hikaru: Hm? They're okay. But they don't seem to like me much.

Yoshiki: It's not that I like animals because they like me. I like that they live by their own rules that have nothing to do with humans.

Hikaru: Ohhh. So you like their way of life or something?

Yoshiki: Yeah. I like the ones that can kill or eat humans too.

P4

Hikaru: You know, that's just called hating people!

--

(sfx: suddenly awake)

Maki: Oh! Yoshiki, you're awake!

Maki: Huh!? Why are you crying?

Yoshiki: Huh?

P5

Maki: Well, guess I gotta give you...

(sfx: in tatters)

Maki: my handkerchief...

Yoshiki: It's nasty, no thanks.

Maki: Sure...

(sfx: noisy crowd)

Yoshiki: By the way, is your arm ok?

Maki: It's awful

Yoshiki: How did it get broken anyways?

P6

Maki: Ah... In the clubroom, my senpai started acting weird and flipping out...

Maki: Doesn't seem like people are talking about it much though

Yoshiki: Whoa...

Maki: ....

Maki: ...unbelievable, now I won't be able to play in the tournament, you've got to be kidding me, argh...

(sfx: scratch scratch)

Yoshiki: (Now that I think of it, Maki took his extracurriculars pretty seriously)

(sfx: clatter)

(sfx: school chimes)

P7

Teacher: Ahem...It's only a short time until finals

Teacher: So, everyone, please make sure to study...

Teacher: In particular, regarding transitive and intransitive verbs...

(sfx: page flipping)

P8

Yoshiki: (Nounuki-sama...there's still a ton of stuff we don't know)

Matsuura: Hajime's father, Grandpa Takeda. Why don't you try asking him?

Matsuura: He's from the same generation as my mother.

Yoshiki: He probably won't take us seriously if we just show up at his house. What should we do...?

Yoshiki: Would Hikaru's dad...

Yoshiki: ...have known something?

Yoshiki: *sighs*...

(sfx: cicadas)

Yoshiki: Nn...?

P9

(sfx: cicadas)

Yoshiki: Something...is coming this way...

P10

Yoshiki: Ah.

==

Twitter Extra (link):

Next chapter: 2023/07/18

Maki (11 years old)

Yuuki: Whoa, there's hair!?

Maki: It's not that suprising...It's not like I always had a shaved head...

==

I don't remember if its come up explicitly before, but Maki is on the baseball team according to the official website.

Twitter link should work even without an account (at least to view the image).