#but at least they can go through it together :3

[charmedimsure]

uuuhhhhhm can i pretty pretty please with cherries on top request a Dae-ho x reader where the reader was also in the military? but its like that ep. where they revolutionized? if that makes sense? idk i think it be cool if reader eas good eith a gun

anyways HAVE A LOVELY DAY/ NIGHT love reading your stuff (i binge read it :p)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x gn!reader

summary: As a former soldier, you know just what to do when all hell breaks loose.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: guns, death, blood, squid game stuff, panic attacks, ptsd

A/N: i've played so many shooting games i feel like i've been training to write this fic my entire life. i even named it after a shield from my favorite game (brownie points if you know which game). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3 tried to make this gender neutral but if you find any slip ups lmk so i can fix it

**this can be read as romantic or platonic**

You look at the woman standing between bunks with wide eyes. You weren't sure earlier when you saw her on the screen, but seeing her standing ten feet away from you, you're absolutely positive that you know who this is.

"Sergeant?"

Cho Hyun-ju turns and gasps when she sees you, a smile lighting up her face. She quickly embraces you, you happily hugging her back. You were always her favorite soldier (she never admitted it, being the sergeant of the Brigade, but you both knew she liked you best). You were one of the only people who supported her when she came out. You tried to fight against her discharge but, as a low-ranking soldier, you had no say in the matter.

"I knew it had to be you!" you say, pulling back with a smile. "When I saw someone go back into the playing field to help a guy with only ten seconds left, I just knew it was my sergeant!"

"It's good to see you," she says. "Though, I wish it was under better circumstances."

You nod solemnly. You had just watched at least a hundred people die while screaming and begging for their lives. As a former soldier, it was hard that you couldn't do anything to help the civilians. All you could do was stand there and listen to the screams and gunshots, and then the silence.

"How are you here? Are you not part of the Brigade anymore?" Hyun-ju asks.

You shake your head. "No, I actually left not long after you were discharged. It wasn't the same without you, and I just couldn't be civil with the others after how they treated you."

She nods, understanding. "Well, if I'm going to be here with anyone, I'm glad it's you. I trust you with my life, soldier."

You smile. "And I you, Sergeant."

<>

You and Hyun-ju had made it through the next two games together, along with some allies you made along the way. Together with Young-mi, Yong-sik, and Geum-ja, you had been the first team to succeed in the six-legged pentathlon.

You had also made it though Mingle with some new allies, though not all of your old allies made it. Young-mi's death was hard on your whole group, but Hyun-ju had been taking it the worst. While you had grown closer with Yong-sik and Geum-ja, she had formed a special bond with the young girl and had to watch her die right in front of her.

While you would like to take the time to mourn Young-mi, a lot has happened in the few hours since the third game ended. The vote on whether to go home or stay ended in a 50-50 tie, meaning you're going to have to redo the vote tomorrow. Then, a huge fight apparently broke out in the men's bathroom, leaving five players dead.

Both sides group together to count their numbers, and you find that there's now one more X than O. While the players around you celebrate, a feeling of dread shoots through you.

"Attention please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime."

Shit.

Player 047 stands in front of the group. "Listen, you cannot change your minds. We have to win the second vote and get out of here tomorrow, alright?"

As the other players around you nod and move to their beds, you stay sitting, watching the O players. They're already looking at your group. Watching. Waiting. You look at Gi-hun, the previous winner, and know that he's thinking the same thing you are.

<>

"Those bastards are acting suspicious," Dae-ho says, returning to the small circle you formed on the ground. "It looks like they're up to something."

Jung-bae breathes out a laugh. "Whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it'll all be over."

"You think we'll be okay?" Dae-ho asks, concerned. "They say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier."

"We need to be ready," you say from your place between Dae-ho and Gyeong-seok. "They've been watching us since the moment they found out the prize money goes up if we kill each other."

The group around you tenses before Gi-hun speaks up as well. "Once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us."

"Really?" Yong-sik asks from beside his mother.

Gi-hun nods. "Because if they kill us, they'll be able to win the vote and increase the prize."

"So what do we do?" Yong-sik asks.

"Let's attack them first," Young-il suggests. "They're probably thinking we'll just wait for the second vote. We can use it to our advantage. We'll attack them first once the lights go out."

"That's right," Player 047 says. "It'd be better to attack them first. We have more women and elderly on our side. If we get attacked we'll be at a disadvantage." You send him a glare that makes him freeze for a moment before continuing. "Attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning."

"I agree," Player 145 adds.

"We can't do that," Gi-hun says.

"But we have to get out of here," Young-il argues. "You said it yourself. Staying calm won't get us anywhere now."

"That doesn't mean we should kill each other," Gi-hun says. "That's exactly what they want us to do."

Jung-bae leans forward. "'They'?"

Gi-hun looks at him. "The ones who created this game." He turns to face the rest of the circle. "The ones who watch us play. If we're going to fight someone, it should be them."

It's silent before Dae-ho speaks up. "Where are they?"

Gi-hun looks to the ceiling. "Up there."

You all follow his gaze before looking around at each other.

"On the upper levels," Gi-hun says, "are the rooms they control the games from. The man in the black mask is their leader. Once we capture him, we'll be able to win."

"How are you going to fight them?" Young-il asks. "They have guns."

"We'll fight them with guns, too," Gi-hun says.

"But we don't have any," Jung-bae says.

Gi-hun turns to him. "We'll take their guns."

You and Hyun-ju look at each other. This is what you were trained for.

"From those masked men?" Gyeong-seok asks nervously.

Gi-hun nods.

"That's too dangerous," Young-il says. "Even if we manage to take a few guns, we'll still be outnumbered."

"What then?" Gi-hun argues. "Are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? Is that what you want, Young-il?"

Hyun-ju breaks the silence. "Do we... stand a chance?"

"We do if we catch them off guard," Gi-hun says. "Out of everyone, they're the ones who would least expect us to attack first. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all."

"How are you going to take their guns?" Young-il asks.

"Once the fight begins tonight, we'll have our chance."

<>

"Lights out in ten seconds."

"Ten,

nine,

eight,

seven,

six,

five,

four,

three,

two,

one."

The lights dim, then turn off completely, leaving only the red and blue lights from the floor.

You roll out of bed, getting under the frame. You feel someone else trying to get under your bed, and you move a bit to make room for Dae-ho. Just as you get in position, you see bodies creeping towards your side of the room, illuminated by the bright blue O on the floor.

There's a scream, and all hell breaks loose.

The lights strobe as you hear the sounds of screaming and bottles being smashed coming from all around you. Somewhere to your right, a bunk is toppled over, sending someone to the ground. Another player runs up to them, stabbing their fork into their neck.

You feel the ex-Marine next to you tense up and put a hand over his, trying to bring him some comfort, or at the very least trying to keep him from blowing your cover.

You hear the buzzer of the door and the lights come on. One of the soldiers fires into the air to stop the fighting as about twenty masked guards come into the room, all armed.

You quickly army crawl out from under the bed, Dae-ho following you as you lay down on the ground.

You hear footsteps getting closer to you, and your ear is moved as a device scans behind it.

You open your eyes, grabbing the soldier so they can't move. "Dae-ho! Now!"

The ex-Marine smashes a bottle over the head of the guard, knocking him unconscious. You take the opportunity to grab the submachine gun off of the soldier, shooting another soldier coming toward you and Dae-ho. You're so focused on the fight that you fail to notice the quivering boy holding his hands over his ears against the bunks.

Grabbing another gun, you quickly scale one of the bunks to get a better vantage of the fight.

"Sergeant!" You yell, gaining the attention of Hyun-ju. She looks to you and you toss the SMG to her. She drops her pistol and catches the weapon, turning just in time to shoot one of the pink guards coming for her.

You use your position to fire at the guards hiding behind bunks. You pull the trigger until you hear a click, cursing as the mag runs empty. You jump down from the bunk, using the butt of the gun to knock a guard out cold. You quickly take his ammo and reload your own gun, firing at a guard trying to shoot Gi-hun.

"Retreat. Retreat."

The voice over the intercom announces and the pink soldiers make their way towards the door. You're able to shoot two more, but most of the soldiers who are still alive are able to make it out of the room. The main guard with the square on his mask is too busy firing back to realize that the door has closed behind him, sealing him in the room with you just as he runs out of ammo.

"Stop! Hold fire!" Gi-hun yells.

Jung-bae and another player run over to the square guard, making sure he won't fight.

"You goddamn bastards!" you hear someone yell on the other side of the room and turn to see Player 047 aiming his gun at a bunch of O players.

"No!" Gi-hun yells, stopping the man before he can shoot. "This is not what we took these guns for. If we do this, we'll be no different from those masked men."

Player 047 lowers his gun, hanging his head and he softly cries.

Gi-hun steps to the center of the room. "Everyone! Don't be scared. Gather round, please! We're not trying to hurt you!"

You walk to stand by Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok.

"Get the guns and ammo from the dead," she tells the both of you.

You nod, doing as your sergeant says while she takes out the cameras in the room.

<>

Placing one of the last guns on the mattress in the center of the room, you move to stand in line between Jung-bae and Dae-ho, handing the extra SMG in your hand to Dae-ho.

Gi-hun steps forward. "Everyone. We will now head up to the masked men's headquarters. We'll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay. Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward."

You look at the crowd in front of you, but everyone stays where they are.

"Hey," you hear a voice next to you say and turn your head to see Jung-bae stepping forward. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But this may be our last chance to make it out of this place alive. Fight with us so we can go home together. All together."

One of the players in the back of the crowd steps forward. "I'll fight with you."

Gi-hun waves at him to come and take a gun. Two other players come forward as well.

You watch as Yong-sik makes a move to step forward, but he catches your gaze as you shake your head at him. It's very brave of him to think about volunteering, but he hasn't even served his mandatory military service yet, and it would kill his mother if he didn't come back. You breathe a sigh of relief when Yong-sik stays where he is.

When it's clear that no one else is stepping forward, Gi-hun turns to you all. "Please check your guns and ammo."

"Let's take one radio each," Jung-bae says. "We'll use channel 7, the lucky number."

You put the strap of your gun around you, checking the mag and putting it back in place when you're satisfied with the amount of ammo that is left. You look to your right to see Dae-ho fiddling with his own gun. Just as you're about to help him, Hyun-ju steps forward.

"Attention," she says, holding up her gun. "This is the MP5, a submachine gun." She continues on the demonstrate how to load the weapon and set it to the mode you should be using. When she's done, she looks at you all. "Are we clear?"

"Yes," you answer, falling right back into the rhythm with your sergeant.

Hyun-ju nods to you, silently telling you to stay by her when you get out there.

"How do you two know each other?" Dae-ho questions, his voice a bit shaky.

You smirk, cocking the MP5. "I was in the 13th Special Missions Brigade. Hyun-ju was my sergeant."

Dae-ho stares at you, completely stunned. "You were in the Decapitation Unit?!"

You chuckle at his disbelief, nodding.

The man can't believe it. He's been bragging about being an ex-Marine while there's been two ex-Special Forces soldiers right next to him the whole time.

Gi-hun points a pistol at the square-masked guard. "Take it off."

The guard slowly removes his mask, revealing a boy no older than 25.

"Good God," Jung-bae says. "Do your parents know what you're doing here?"

The guard just stares at him.

Gi-hun cocks the pistol. "Take us to your captain."

<>

"All players, it is bedtime now. Please return to your quarters immediately. Otherwise, you will be eliminated from the game. Let me repeat..."

Gi-hun fires at the speaker, effectively shutting up the voice. Three guards are stood over you. "Get down!"

You duck behind the wall of the stairs. Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turn to look at Hyun-ju behind you.

"Cover me!"

You nod, shooting at the guards while she sprints to the top of the stairs. From her new vantage point, she is able to take out one of the guards, causing their body to fall over the ledge and down to the floor.

When you duck down to reload, you see Dae-ho next to you. The ex-Marine is sitting in a ball, covering his ears and flinching every time a shot rings out. You look at him with concern, but your attention is stolen by Gi-hun telling everyone to hold their fire. Dae-ho gets a grip on his weapon and you all move, following Gi-hun and the un-masked guard.

As you move down an alleyway, Gi-hun stops the guard. "How much farther? Is this the right way?"

The boy points toward the end of the hall. "The entrance to the management area is around that corner. The control room is right above it."

Gi-hun pushes him. "Move it, then!"

"Wait," the guard says, reaching toward his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Gi-hun stops him.

"I need my mask to pass security," the guard explains. Gi-hun nods and the guard takes the mask out. He looks up, but before he can say anything else, a bullet goes right through his head.

You all take cover as more shots are fired at you. Something slashes onto your face, and you turn to see Player 072's lifeless body falling to the ground.

You drop the floor and crawl over to Hyun-ju, both of you taking positions in a green square area of the stairs. You nod to each other and duck out of cover, firing at the guards. You can hear the men speaking to each other at the other end of the line, but you focus on taking out as many guards as possible.

You and Hyun-ju alternate firing and taking cover, both of you shooting with deadly precision, doing your best to not waste any of the already low supply of ammo you have.

A player next to you screams and is shot. You turn, shooting at the guard approaching from your rear, taking out a few that are behind that one as well.

"Everyone! Check your magazines!" Hyun-ju calls out.

You take the mag out of the gun, seeing that you have about half of a clip left. Everyone announces that they're around the same.

"Young-il, Dae-ho, can you hear me?" The voice of Jung-bae erupts from your radio.

"Go ahead!" Young-il says.

"I think we're right below the control room." Shots can be heard in the background. "But we need backup and more ammo."

"We're running out of ammo, too!"

"There should be spare magazines in the soldiers' pockets in our quarters. Go get them!" Gi-hun yells through the radio.

"Did you hear that?" Young-il turns to the group. "They need backup! Three of us will go, and the rest will stay! Join us once you get the magazines! Who wants to go with me?"

Players 047 and ... volunteer and they run off towards the end of the hall.

"I'll go get the magazines!" Hyun-ju yells. "I'll come back as soon as I can, so just hold on until then!"

"Hyun-ju!" A voice yells. You turn to see Dae-ho raising his hand. "I'll go!" He hurries over to where you and Hyun-ju are taking cover. "I- I'm out of ammo."

"Do you know the way?" Gyeong-seok asks. Dae-ho nods.

"We destroyed the cameras on the way, follow them," Hyun-ju says.

"I'll go with him," you say. "I still have some ammo, so I'll cover him."

Hyun-ju nods. "I'll cover you. Go!"

You and Dae-ho take off down the stairs. He stops a few times, but you pull him along, keeping your eyes up to watch for the broken cameras. As you're running down the stairs, Dae-ho stops, and you turn to see him staring at a dead guard hanging over the ledge of a window.

"Dae-ho!" Jung-bae yells. "Can you hear me? Where are those magazines?"

You lift your own radio to your mouth. "We're getting them now."

"Alright! We're counting on you!"

You put your radio back in your pocket, grabbing Dae-ho's hand and pulling him along behind you.

You burst into the quarters, letting go of Dae-ho's hand as you sprint to a guard, taking the spare mags out of their pockets. You hear someone say your name and look up to see Yong-sik.

"What happened? Why are you back by yourselves?"

"We're low on ammo," you say, not looking up from the guard you're looting. "We need to get the magazines from their pockets. Help us!"

You look up to the boy to see him nod and run over to a nearby guard. Geum-ja and Jun-hee come over to the help, as well.

Once you've looted all the ammo from the guards, you place them into a jacket you found on one of the dead players. You tie it up and give it to Dae-ho, thanking the others as you lead him out of the room.

Gunshots can be heard as soon as you step outside. You keep moving but when you check behind you, you see that Dae-ho has stopped where he is.

"Dae-ho, we need to go," you urge.

He looks at you silently, but the fear in his eyes sends the message. You've seen soldiers like this before you joined the Special Forces.

Dae-ho stands in his spot, paralyzed other than the shake of his body in fear.

You hear your name and Dae-ho's through the radio. "Where are you? Can you hear me?"

You watch as Dae-ho lifts his radio, staring at it as Hyun-ju's voice comes through.

"Did you find the magazines? Are you on your way?"

Dae-ho looks at you. "I'm sorry," he whispers, dropping the radio on the ground and running back into the quarters with the magazines.

"Shit," you say under your breath. You follow Dae-ho into the room, looking around to find where he went. Yong-sik points toward a bunk and you find Dae-ho curled up there, rocking back and forth. Running over to him, you take the jacket with the mags, ready to run out of there. You take a look at Dae-ho, the pure fear coursing through him as he whispers apologies over and over.

You sigh, remembering one of the lessons Hyun-ju taught you as your sergeant.

Never leave a man behind.

Taking out your radio, you bring it to your lips and press the button. "Charlie Foxtrot."

You put your radio down, knowing that Hyun-ju will know what to do. You had picked up the phrase from your U.S. counterparts, saying it to each other when something goes wrong.

Moving to sit on the bed, you take Dae-ho's hands into yours. "Dae-ho, I need you to breathe with me, alright."

He slowly looks at your face before launching himself into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder. You rub his back comfortingly, knowing you can't leave him alone like this.

After a few minutes, Hyun-ju runs into the room shouting you and Dae-ho's names. She comes running over to you, stopping when she sees Dae-ho in your arms.

"What happened?"

Dae-ho jumps a bit at the new voice, burying his face farther into your jacket.

You look up a Hyun-ju, shaking your head at her. She nods, understanding. You point at the magazines and she scoops them into her arms, ready to take them to the others when the buzzer for the door goes off and more pink guards enter the room, firing in the air and making everyone scream.

Hyun-ju reloads her SMG, ready to take on the entire group on guards by herself. You watch as Geum-ja puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"You can't die like this."

You sigh in relief as Hyun-ju puts the gun down. From your hidden area, you try to get the guns and mags away from you, making it seem as though the three of you have been here the whole time.

As the guards come further into the room, you use your body to shield Dae-ho from them as he whimpers. You make eye contact with Hyun-ju. Whatever happens next, you'll face it as a team.

~

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @thebiggestigurosimp @come-as-you-are-111 @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5

[deancasforcutie]

#literally this is the thing!! #Dean has not explicitly said the words ''please stop leaving'' #but he has tried very hard through his actions to express that #AND!!!! CRUCIALLY!!! BECAUSE DEAN IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD VERBAL COMMUNICATOR!! #he has ALSO!!! verbally expressed his desire for Cas to stick around using OTHER words!!! #not as explicit as ''please stop leaving and stay with me'' but absolutely conveying the same sentiment #what the hell do you think ''we're stronger together'' and the whole ''cursed or not'' speech were about???? #like Cas needs it to be more clear than that to Get It bc he does not understand how his constant absence HURTS #but Dean does not want to BE more explicit than he already is #bc he feels like he's been VERY direct on the subject already #he literally told Cas he needs him. TWICE. and has prayed that he needs him there with them at least once that I can recall #Dean thinks he's been EXTREMELY explicitly clear already!!! #and that Cas is constantly leaving bc despite hearing Dean's tacit request to stay Cas is REFUSING that request and doesn't WANT to stay #he keeps asking and getting rebuffed WHY would he be louder and needier about it when he thinks all it's going to get him #is the emotional equivalent of a slap to the face? #in no universe is Dean going to ask for something louder when from his POV he's already been begging for it and being refused like???? #this is one of those cases where neither of them is actually doing anything wrong #Dean is communicating perfectly fine it's just Cas is autistic and missing some subtext #Cas isn't wrong for prioritizing his missions when he doesn't understand that Dean wants him there as much as he wants to be there #they're just talking past each other and a deeper conversation or two would fix this problem for them #they just don't realize that conversation is necessary #bc Dean thinks he's been heard and understood and Cas is politely declining his request for more time together #and Cas is unaware that that's something Dean has been asking for at varying volume levels for years #and instead bc of his trauma feels compelled to ''earn'' his place in the family with feats of strength so to speak #no one is at fault for their emotional needs not being met it's just a miscommunication #unfortunately the fandom focuses super hard on only one part of that equation and thus the takes on it are so often Bad™ #and ignore Cas's motivations and role as a complex actor with his own trauma and emotional issues and blind spots #anyway they're losers I adore them both <3 (via @ilarual)

on a realer note i do think people forget that a huge part of the destiel equation is that cas won’t stay. like yeah we focus a lot on the fact that dean won’t ask him to, but cas never sticking around is a huge factor there

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 22.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content, Dean being naughty and goofy, teasing, praise kink, bit of fingering, a lil' spankin', biting, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it before u tap it!), softdom!Dean, Dean guiding you through a new s♡x-position, fluff, aftercare and also there's pizza (yes, that's a warning) - no use of Y/N - there's probably more so just let me know if I missed something - English is not my native language and I’m dead on my feet Contains brief reference to Dec.9 (Whip Stroke) and Dec. 16 (Roll Over Rule)

Summary: Your ideas of 'self-care' couldn't be more contradicting: Dean's craddling a pillow and munching on his cold pizza, while you go through your yoga routine next to the motel bed. The entire time he's watching you stretch and bend and arch your back with lingering eyes... until he decide's you've had enough yoga. Time for a 'fun way' to relax.

Words: ~6,500 (yeah, I know, prepare for a lot of teasing, but it'll pay off)

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! Let me know in the comments what your favorite part was! <3 A/N: At this rate, I give up on the order of the prompts / days. 🥲 But I definitely want to complete the challenge! (Sorry for the long wait y'all!)

22nd Dec. - Yoga, Kama Sutra - potato, potahto

“Of course pizza beats yoga.” Dean scoffs, his eyebrows pinched together with a lazy shake of his head in disbelief. Like the audacity of you even questioning the superiority of fast food? Unbelievable.

“But- how can you even compare the two? That’s junk food. And this is like…” You think for a moment until you remember the right term, “Self-care. You should try it once.” You try to argue in hopes that this conversion might still turn to your favour. But you know you’re pulling on threads by now.

“Oh I do self-care.” He retorts gruffly, his eyes flickering down at you. And to proof his point, he stuffs a big bite of pizza into his mouth, munching on it while he continues, his words halfway muffled, “Food and beer’s my self-care, baby.”

“But-” You groan with a roll of your eyes but stop yourself there. If that man wasn’t halfway as fit as he is, you’d at least still have the trump card of health factor left. But truth be told, despite that, you didn’t have any more arguments, and you both knew it.

So in Dean’s eyes that settled it. His way of self-care is superior to yours. End of discussion.

His focus shifts back to his pizza and the old TV boxed in by a pair of wooden chairs. The smell of cold junk food mingles with the musty carpet that's infiltrating your nostrils everytime you get a bit closer to the floor. Gratefully the sweet cinnamon smell of one of those Christmas candles you had lit the moment you returned to your room, covers up most of the motels stale stench.

After Dean has been channel zapping through various Christmas movies, he finally gave in and tossed the remote control aside on the bed. The TV is running some ads in the background now and Dean is on his stomach stuffing his face with pizza, while you are on the ground next to the motel bed, doing your yoga session on a mat. "To relax," as you had explained to him. "Desperately needed after this case had turned out to be a damn goose chase all along." You added. And on top of that, the hard mattress you had to put up with for the past week did little to ease your bad mood or aching back pain.

By now, Dean had become used to your sporadic yoga sessions whenever time allowed it. Although it was still a mystery to him how this ‘weird hippie stuff’ was in any way relaxing to you, he always enjoyed watching you. And he’d made it a habit of his own to comment with a lick over his lips – perhaps even a low, appreciative whistle – and shamelessly lustful eyes taking in every detail of your body as you’re going through your routine, “Have I ever told you how lucky I am? Like jesus – you’re so fuckin’ flexible. Like some friggin’ contortionist. I bet you can even hook your foot behind your head.”

So, naturally, Dean isn’t really paying any attention to the TV. Even though the intro sequence of “Die Hard”, one of his favourite movies, is now playing.

As always his eyes are lingering on your stretchy outfit and how tightly your favourite colour wraps your body, highlighting every curve of yours, no matter where. The thin shimmer of sweat on your exposed skin and the way you seemed so in control and at the same time at peace. To him it felt like a big contrast to the moments of action where you’d cut down a vamp or plunge a stake through a pagan’s ribcage, your movements quick, precise and face and clothings always covered in the red aftermath.

He takes another bite of the pizza, attempting to distract himself, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. Your rear in the air now as you switch into the Downward Dog pose. The soft moans and heavy breaths that slip your lips makes him chew slower. His mind now imagining you arching your body in other ways rather than yoga moves, while moaning his name and – Damnit, Winchester, get your mind out of the gutter.

“You having fun up there?” Your teasing voice rips right through his rather explicit picture of him going through some yoga poses with you at his mercy and he almost chokes on the mouthful of pizza. He forces it down with a swig of beer, while he gathers his thoughts sufficiently to reply with a cocky smirk, “Just enjoying the view.”

“Of course you do.” You roll your eyes but can’t help a soft chuckle before you switch to another pose.

From the corner of his eyes, he watches how you effortlessly stretch your legs apart just to roll over onto your stomach where you continue with propping yourself up on your hands, arching your back and then tipping your head back while pressing your stomach into the mat.

“Tell ya what,” he suddenly speaks up before he interrupts himself, stuffing the rest of the pizza crust into his mouth and swallowing it down. “You could probably do the whole Kama Sutra without breaking a sweat.”

You hold the Cobra pose when your chest briefly heaves from the huff that slipped your nose. “Horn dog.”

“Yoga, Kama Sutra – potato, potahto.” He snorts with a mocking tone, clearly starting to get annoyed from his fruitless efforts to distract you so far.

He shifts on the bed, propping his head up on the pillow in the crook of his arm to get a new angle on your curves. After watching you for a moment, he decides it’s time for a new approach.

He clears his throat before he muses in a sultry tone, “There’s also better ways to relax than yoga.”

While he licks his greasy fingers clean, he can’t help but appreciate the way the tight fabric of your yoga pants stretch over your curves again.

Still playing deaf, huh? A playful Cheshire smile forms on his lips when he finishes to suck his last digit with a obscene pop. He then continues in a demanding voice, “C’mere.”

“I’m not done yet.” You reply curtly, muffled slightly by the mat, your head now dropped down with your forehead resting on your folded hands.

He lets out an amused hum, “Oh yes you are.”

Within seconds he rolls off the motel bed to move on top of you, straddling your thighs and pressing down on you, pinning you against the mat.

You let out a surprised gasp, “Dean!”

But the only response you get is a cheeky “Heh-heh”.

When you feel his warm hands cup your butt cheeks and starting to squeeze and massage them, you lift your head to glance back over your shoulder at him. You give him your warning ‘seriously now?’ look, which he just deflects with a mock-innocent grin of his that said ‘what?’.

The way his palms squeeze firmly against your butt cheeks makes him let out a low satisfied hum in his throat. One hand moves to rest next to your head, supporting him as he leans down. His breath’s hot against your ear when he mutters, “This’ a lot more fun than that bullshit yoga.”

You want to bite back with a snarky comment about it not being bullshit at all – but your thought gets cancelled the moment his lips brush over the sensitive skin behind your earlobe, tracing a path of open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck. You let out a low shuddering breath, instinctively tilting your head for him.

But then a waft of his junk-food-slash-beer-laced breath hits your face and it instantly makes your nose scrunch up in a cute fashion.

“De, you smell like a dumpster.” You chuckle and reach with your hand over your shoulder to playfully shove his face away.

“Oh yeah?” He retorts with a smirk. Meanwhile his free hand snakes to the inside of your thighs, tight fingers sliding up under the stretchy fabric of your yoga shorts.

“Huh… only one way to solve it.” He mutters before he nips at your hand which had been pushing his face, giving the tip of your middle finger a short sharp bite that makes you gasp and immediately pull away.

He chuckles at your reaction and then straightens up to sit back on your legs. He inches further down to your calves, his eyes darting from his fingers wiggling under your short pants, up to your face again with a smirk on his lips. “I know what you’re thinking, sweetheart…”

Your anticipation’s building quickly. Feeling his fingers tracing so teasingly along the rim of your panties made the heat pool in your stomach and your mind throw all other plans for your remaining yoga session out the backdoor. And he damn well knew it the moment he brushed against the damp stain in the centre of your thin patch of fabric.

But then you let out a frustrated huff. He’d suddenly pulled his hand from between your legs to pat your ass with it, his glinting emerald eyes never leaving yours as he continues with a drawled “Nuh-uh.”

Then he leans over to the bed, his hand sliding into the pizza box where he fishes a remaining slice out. “Open wide.” He orders with a grin as he reaches with his hand over your shoulder. There he prods the tip of the pizza slice against your cheek, “C’mon, down the hatch. Commit a sin for me.” He quips with a feigned serious tone.

When you still look at him with that expression of befuddlement, he chuckles, his grin widening, “Take a bite, sunshine. Your breath’s my breath.”

You’re torn between being turned on by his words in some dirty twisted way and being utterly amused by them. It’s not like you were on a diet – heck, you sometimes eat so much junk food with all the cheap diner’s you’d hit every day on the road, it was a damn miracle you hadn’t gained weight yet.

“C’mon, Say aaaah.” He hums, still grinning from ear to ear as he prods the pizza slice against your lips.

After an amused snort, you can’t help but crack a grin of your own, “You’re a silly man, Winchester, you know that?” You finally give in and open your mouth enough to take a bite of the cold salami pizza.

“Yeah, but I’m your silly man.” He replies as he discards the pizza slice back into the box.

You swallow the bite down when his finger swipes over your bottom lip to clean away a streak of tomato sauce. His eyes follow his thumb’s movement, his touch gentle but the expression on his face more mischievous when he watches the tip of your tongue licking out to chase his finger to catch the bit of sauce.

You hold each other’s intense gazes, eyes darkened with something more. The sudden shift in atmosphere had you both still in your movements, taking in how the air between you had suddenly charged up.

Dean finally can’t take the tension any more and lets out a low growl from the back of his throat. He withdraws his finger, before giving your cheek a soft pat. “There’s my good girl.”

Your lips curl into a proud smile at his praise, “Only for you.”

A soft chuckle slips over his lips as he straightens up to sit back on your thighs again. His hands run down your back until they wrap around your hips, fingers trailing the hem of your yoga shorts. He hooks his fingers into the elastic band, slowly starting to pull them over your butt cheeks.

Your breath hitches when the cold air makes contact with your exposed rear. Next moment you feel his teeth dig into the soft flesh of your left bum cheek which triggers a short surprised yelp of yours.

“It was just too tempting.” He chuckles against your skin before he lets go of your butt with a wet-smooch to the red mark and straightens up again.

He pats the spot where he’d just claimed you, with his hand, “Lift up your hips, sweetheart.”

As you wiggle underneath him, he gets up on his knees, his weight now lifted off you to aid you with it. He leans forward to get a better hold on the fabric to properly pull the yoga pants along your panties down towards your knees.

“There we go… Now hold still for me, sunshine…” He mutters while his hands move along your skin.

A shiver runs through your body as you feel the only thing between you and him being taken from you, how you feel the fabric brush down your legs until you are completely exposed for him. Exposed and at his mercy. And damn it made your breath hitch from feeling vulnerable, as much as excitement.

After his hands had traveled further down, taking your pants and underwear with him, he discarded the redundant pieces of clothing to the side.

Finally satisfied, Dean slides down your legs again until he’s sitting on your calves, his hands on the back of your thighs. “Now where was my good girl’s cute little butt again.” He comments as he gently palms the soft globes of your cheeks with his smile never leaving his lips.

You groan softly and your eyes flutter closed, your body practically melting into the yoga mat under his touch.

“Oh, right, there it is.” He squeezes, his large hands massaging the flesh before he suddenly gives you a firm spank.

“Jesus-!” You yelp up at the unexpected sharp smack, your eyes wide open now as you whip your head to the side to stare back at him.

“Hey, you’re in prime spanking position here. What am I supposed to do, just admire the view and do nuthin’?” He mutters behind a teasing chuckle, his green eyes glued to the spot on your butt that was now slowly turning a light shade of red where his palm had hit you. “Plus, I know ya like it. Or you want me to get out the leather crop and remind you of our spankin’ session last week?”

Your thighs twitch involuntarily at the reminder of that evening. And the heat in your core is tingling from the vivid memory of that sweet-burning sensation that had taken over your body every time the leather smacked down on your skin.

“Guilty as charged.” You mutter while you have to force a moan back down your throat.

Dean’s lips curl into a cocky grin, “Knew it.”

You playfully narrow your eyes at him as you glance back over your shoulder to keep an eye on his sinful hand. But Dean stays unperturbed, if anything, your warning look just spurs him on even more.

“That’s for looking too damn good in those tight-ass yoga leggings.” He continues, giving your butt another firm slap before he reaches between your legs and your breath catches in your throat. His thumb traces the outline of your dripping folds, “And this-” His fingertips just graze over your centre, “That’s for being my good girl.”

He takes a moment to enjoy your gasp and how your head had dropped to the mat, your breath shaky already. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he orders in a more gravelly tone, “Now be a good girl and spread your legs for me. I need to taste you.”

A shuddering exhale leaves your mouth, followed by a curse that luckily gets swallowed by the yoga mat you’re breathing into. You bend your knees slightly outward, as far as his hips pinning down your calves allow you to go.

“That’s it sweetheart…” He murmurs before his large hands grab the inside of your thighs, guiding your legs to part even further while his head slowly starts to sink down between them.

Your thighs begin to shiver from his warm breath hitting your soaked slit, desperately begging for his attention. Your hands blindly search for the edge of the mat, your fingers clutching it on each side as you prepare for him to dig into you.

Dean of course notices your anticipation and can’t miss the chance to comment on it.

“You’re gonna grab that mat nice and tight for me, sunshine. And you’re gonna hold still, keep those legs spread, and stay nice and quiet.” He instructs, his tone taking on a more commanding one, but still with a mischievous edge to it.

He then lowers his eyes again to admire the slick flesh between your legs where your folds are already parted, practically gleaming in the dim light of the motel room.

“Damn, look at you all nice and wet and open for me.”

Dean shifts his weight to brace his left elbow on the floor next to your hip, the other hand splayed out on the small of your back to hold you in place.

“You’re like a damn waterfall already, sunshine.” He murmurs in awe. The way your body reacts to him never ceases to fascinate him. He leans in, and you feel his hot breath coming in short puffs as he places a gentle kiss on your hooded clit, before he pulls back again.

As you immediately lift and tilt your head to look at him, he lets out an amused hum, “Now now, head down, sweetheart. Remember, yoga’s about relaxing and focusing on your body.”

“Smartass.” you manage to groan out.

“Eatsass.” he corrects you and before you get to be smart with him again, he proofs his point by suddenly parting your slick folds with his tongue, drawing it all the way up until he pulls it back into his mouth with a smack of his lips.

A low moan ripples through your chest, finally feeling that long desired friction that has you melt into a puddle of a blubbering mess. “Please- Dean- don’t stop- I need more- please-”

He grins at your pleading words and dives right back in. Licking, prodding, tongue lapping across your glistening folds, drinking your juice like its the only thing that keeps him sane. He moves up, his tongue circling your clit before he wraps his lips around it. Your legs suddenly tense up and a pathetic mewling-yelp erupts from your parted lips when he starts to suck at your bud like he’s finishing off a flurry through a thin straw.

Your hips jerk back and involuntarily try to pull away from the onslaught. But in vain as his large palm presses down on your stomach to keep you in place and in reaction to your attempted escape, he just increases the borderline painful pull on your clit even more.

The foam gives in under your clawing fingers, feeling yourself near your climax. You’re close to a scream - until he finally loosens his grip around your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re relieved and frustrated at the same time. Your clit’s now swollen and overstimulated and oh so close to pop you off the edge.

“P-please…” you whimper and turn your head to the side against the mat to be able to look back at him, “De… please – I-… I’m so close-”

“You want to come on my face… or my fingers, hm?” Dean hums with a cocky sound to it.

“Both- anything- please,” you beg now, your chest heaving under the weight of your body, your breaths grown ragged and heavy.

“Such a greedy little thing,” he growls, his tone laced with pride, knowing exactly that he can always drive you mad with need if he wants to.

He shifts his weight, his chest resting between your legs and his free hand snaking over your thigh to join him. His fingertips reach between your legs, running through the folds, as he lets his finger circle around your entrance for a moment. At your muffled whimper, he effortlessly pushes his middle finger inside. “But first, I wanna see if I can make those legs of yours quiver from just one finger…” Dean states, his tone low with a raspier edge, and darkened eyes fixed on your dripping hole.

You gasp at his words, his gravel tone sending a shiver down your spine. But after a moment of enduring his finger’s tantalizing strokes, your patience snaps and you regain your voice.

“Oh fuck you.” you groan in protest, your teeth clenched from frustration. One finger after all this teasing? This was just pure torture now and he knew it.

“What? You want me to go in full house?” He chuckles knowingly, enjoying your worn down patience way too much for your liking, “Want me knuckles deep inside you again, is that it?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, but instead quickly jams his index finger inside you, pumping them both in and out while his lips enclose around your clit once more.

You don’t even have the time to gasp for air when you feel your walls clenching and gripping onto his curling fingers. A few seconds of intense onslaught of his is enough to send you flying over the edge with a loud guttural moan. Your nails dig into the mat, your legs are shaking and your walls fluttering around his fingers while he helps you ride out your height.

Once you fall limp and try to catch your breath, Dean slowly withdraws his two fingers to raise them to his mouth and suck them clean. He grins, wiping his face with the back of his hand before his tongue swipes over his lips, kingly as he does so, savouring every last drop of your taste.

He shifts on top of you to move a hand next to your waist on each side, leaning down to grab the hooks of your sports bra between his teeth. With a swift tug, it falls open and he leans in to kiss you between your shoulder blades. You let out a low hum, enjoying the soft affection with eyes fluttered close. He moves again to gently tug the last piece of clothing over your shoulders and arms until he flings it over his shoulder, where it lands next to your other things.

You feel the rough fabric of his shirt graze your skin, and the buckle of his belt makes you shiver when it lowers down on the nape of your back. Just below it, the growing bulge behind his jeans rubs against your butt when he rolls his hips against you.

“You feel how hard I am just because of you?” He murmurs against your skin, the words almost lost in a stifled groan. But you still answer with a low confirming hum. He continues to plant kisses along your back, taking his time to explore every single inch. His lips send small shivers down your spine and all the way to your core again, each one of them like a spark along your fuse.

“Babe?” He mutters between hot kisses lining up to your ear now.

“Mh?” You hum into the yoga mat while tilting your head slightly for him.

“You ever heard of the elephant position?” He asks innocently.

The what? That name earns him a surprised giggle of yours. It was nothing unusual that Dean would randomly hit you up with some sex-position he’d like to try out with you, but this one was a new one to you. “Are you seriously talking about how elephants mate? Or are you trying to impress me with the yoga pose?” You tease him. Clearly he wasn’t talking about the latter. “Or, let me guess, it’s a Kama Sutra thing.”

He plants another open-mouthed kiss right under your ear, “Mmm-hm,” and his throat rumbles against your neck, is lips lingering there for a moment while he murmurs, “That… Ever tried it?”

With the side of his face he nudges your head further aside before he dives down to take the skin of your neck gently between his teeth, pinching it enough to make you gasp.

At his question, though, you look a bit sheepish and you shake your head, “No… is it… good?”

Dean beams at your admission – he simply loves it whenever he can show you something new, especially when he knows how much pleasure it’ll bring you.

He perks his head up like an excited dog, “Oh you’ll love it, baby. I promise. It hits all your super-sensitive spots.” He leans back in to nibble on the soft flesh of your neck before he continues in an eager tone. “You wanna try it?”

“Uh,” you lift your head now to glance back, meeting his glinting green eyes above his wide smile. Your lips curl upwards at the sight of his excitement and you respond, “Yeah, will you, uh, will you show me?”

“Of course, baby.” He leans back to lower his hips on your thighs again, his eyes raking up and down your buck naked body. “I need you to stay just like this- uh – whatever pose this is.”

You chuckle and raise yourself on your elbows. “The sphinx.”

“Yeah, right, okay, sphinx.” He mutters and pushes himself off you for a second, “Stay. Don’t move.”

He reaches for his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking while he unbuttons his jeans and slides the denim along his boxers off his hips. The heavy, worn jeans quickly land somewhere next to your yoga outfit, and his shirt follows seconds after.

“Yeah, that’s better.” He mutters to himself before climbing on top of you again, his knees straddling your legs as he lowers himself down. He runs his hands up and down your sides, his firm pecs brushing against your back. “’M not crushing you, am I?” He asks, his tone softer for a moment.

“No, all good. Don’t worry.” You reassure him before you angle your shoulders to nuzzle your nose against his jawline, feeling the scruff prickle your skin.

“Good.” He nuzzles back into your neck, hands trailing down your arms, “Mmmh… you’re so soft, sunshine.” His hands continue their path until they wrap around your wrists and guide your arms up just slightly above your head as your chest slowly lowers back down. He places them there before he murmurs against your ear, “Keep them there for me, baby, keep them right where I can reach them, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nod and suddenly become aware of the way the tip of his erection brushes against your inner thighs every time he moves.

“Just wanna make sure I know where those hands are.” Dean chuckles and purposely bucks his hips so that his swollen head briefly kisses your entrance.

His hands slowly glide up the inside of your arm, fingertips ghosting over your twitching skin. He brushes them underneath you, hands up the front of your chest, cupping your breasts and slowly kneading the soft flesh in his palms, “Can’t have you squirming and fighting against me while I’m trying to make you feel good, y’know.”

You arch into his hands, needy little sounds of pleasure dripping off your lips. Your core’s burning again, begging to be taken care of.

“I know baby, I know…” he coos between tender kisses, and in spite of his chapped lips, he caresses your shivering skin with soft love letters.

“Dean- please- I-” you start to plead, your voice bouncing off the pink foam you’re panting against.

But Dean finishes for you with his voice dropped to a rougher octave, while still trying to sound soothing for you, “You just want me to pound you mindless into that damn mat… I know… and I can’t wait to make you cry, sunshine… Gonna make you scream my name so loud, the folks at the front desk will hear it and think there’s a whole exorcism going on or somethin’… But first you need a lil’ patience, sweetheart… alright?”

The question was of course rhetorical. Once your boyfriend has his mind set on something, he’ll pull through with it. Or at least that’s how he’d like to describe himself. You of course know that you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger whenever you really want.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise… I’ll make sure you come so hard, you’ll be seeing nuthin’ but stars for a whole minute.” He adds while he withdraws one hand to palm his erection before he lines up behind you.

“But first… I gotta pump your tight bands of muscles up… the ones closest to your sweet, drippin’ entrance– ” He begins to explain but gets interrupted when he pulls a gasp from your lips, thanks to him suddenly biting down on your shoulder.

His words come out slightly muffled as he continues with a growl, “… get them hot ‘n aroused ‘n sore from all my undivided attention… I want you to come just from my cock inside you.”

You feel his tip teas your entrance, circling it but never pushing in like he’s waiting for the right moment. His feet then dip beneath your legs, before his calves and heels press against your thighs to keep them clamped together. “That’s it… keep ‘em nice ‘n tight.” He husks somewhere behind you while he rocks his hips again. His warm breath’s skimming over your sweat-dampened skin sending shivers of goosebumps in its wake.

Once you’re just in perfect position for him, he finally pushes his cock inside you in one smooth motion which draws a low guttural moan out of your throat.

For the next minutes, Dean does as he explained, taking his sweet time to build up your tension at just the right spots.

He pulls the ridged-band along your slick, clenching walls, slow and ordaining. When he feels you twitch, he knows he’s found just the right spot. With deliberate rolling motions of his hips he begins to push and pull the head of his cock along your g-spot.

Your face drops to the mat, a shaky breath rippling out of your throat when you feel him graze your insides. His slow motions are torturous and unbelievably pleasurable at the same time.

His strong thighs bind yours between his own while he increases the friction, now rutting his swollen tip against your tightly grasping entrance.

“You feel that baby?” He whispers huskily, his lips right next to your ear-shell.

“Y-yeah,” you answer weakly, your breath slowly picking up pace to match his hips new rhythm.

Once he notices your entrance shimmy around his shaft, he knows he’s got you just where he wants you. He swiftly pulls his length out, earning himself a frustrated whimper of yours.

“No- no please, don’t stop-” You start to plead but before you know it, he pushes back in. This time without holding any inch back.

“You did so well, being so patient for me…” He begins to mutter against your hair, “I’ll take care of you now. Let go and just feel me, sunshine.”

You groan, arch your back and raise your chest off the floor, holding yourself upright with your elbows. But you quickly notice it’s in fact, Dean, who’s keeping you from collapsing back into your pink mat.

He had his arm wrapped around your torso, pulling your back close to his chest. His large palms slide along your body until they wrap around your soft, plump flesh to cup one of your breasts, your nipple teasingly pinched between his thumb and index finger. He supports you both on his free hand pressed into the foam, the muscles of his biceps flexing relentlessly from the force of his movements.

All the while he keeps snapping his hips against your bum with precise thrusts, each time taking your breath as he meets your cervix. Each collision eliciting a twinge, like a sweet hurt that has your pupils dive under your eyelids.

He switches his supporting arm, the freed hand roaming every part of your body like he’s exploring and worshipping it at the same time. His large palm comes to rest on your ass, splayed out on your soft flesh. Then you feel him slip out of you, shifting his position as he puts some of his weight on your ass now to hold you down when he begins to pound you into the mat again.

“Oh fuck-” The new angle draws a surprised yelp from you.

But Dean quickly comes to soothe you with open mouthed kisses dancing up your spine, his teeth skimming your skin and his lips tasting the sheen of sweat clinging to your body. Arrived at the nape of your neck, he husks out, “Good girl, takin’ every inch of me… lettin’ me fill ya up all the way…” his voice drifts off when his tongue darts out to lick the sensitive spot behind your ears, sending another shiver down your back.

The new pace of his hips is slower but no less intense. He continues to slam his cock past your slick folds, pulling out almost entirely before he rocks his hipbones back into your cheeks. Over and over, each time all the way to the shaft’s base, drawing those guttural moans from your sweet lips which make him growl with pride.

He rasps out groans and praises against your neck, each spurring you on equally, “You’re taking me so well, baby- Fuck- so good for me… my good girl… bein’ so, so perfect, only for me…”

Your moans grow more desperate, breathless, feeling his cock harden against your soft walls. “D-Dean-,” you whimper as your head briefly lolls back to lean into his shoulder just before it drops forward again with a loud shuddering moan sparked by your core.

Your hands start fisting into the crappy motel rug, pulling at the loose threads of it as you desperately search for something to hold onto. Your frantic actions don’t go unnoticed by Dean who’s watching your every hitch in breath and twitch of your muscles, always making sure he doesn’t miss the signs that the pain’s still pleasurable to you.

He quickly shifts his weight as his hand on your ass darts over to your clawing fingers, doing the same with his other. He untangles your fingers from the fabrics, intertwining them with his own while his forearms come to join yours on the pink foam, supporting himself on both elbows now.

He can feel your legs tremble against the weight of his hips, which he uses to plough you into the yoga mat as he slams into you. His movements now erratic and rough. Squelching sounds mix with your combined moaning and panting. Driving each other closer to the edge with every sound.

“Y-you close, baby?” He growls against your ear, already knowing the answer. He can feel your fluttering walls gripping him tightly, “Fuck-” he groans, his hands squeezing yours and pinning them there when your body starts to buckle and shudder beneath him. He’s now driving his cock inside you with primal need.

“Oh God-” you whine, face pressed flush into the foam as you feel the knot in your belly tighten up and your muscles go tense.

“F-fuck yeah- that’s it- squeeze and come on my cock, come for me-” He growls, his voice dropped to a gravelly, rumbling tone. He runs his nose along your neck, across the trail of red marks, when he suddenly sinks his teeth into your flesh once more.

And that does it for you. Your knot explodes into waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Stars take over your vision when you scream his name. Your walls flutter around his cock, pulling him over the edge along you and coating your walls with his warm seeds. The climax keeps crashing down on you in multiple shock waves until your body finally falls limp, your limbs twitching as if you’d been struck by a lightning bolt.

Dean collapses on top of you, his breath ragged and hot as it wafts against your sweaty skin. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his biceps just barely able to keep his body from completely burying you under his weight.

“Damn… that- wow…” You whisper breathlessly, still trying to regain your vision and collect your thoughts.

“You were amazing, baby.” Dean praises you with a hoarse voice, his lips lingering on your temple.

You tilt your head to catch his lips in a soft, but purposeful kiss. When you pull back just enough to speak, you catch a glimpse of his eyes briefly widen at your words, “No, you are amazing.”

♡

For a moment you both enjoy each other’s soft breaths and the way he hugs you tightly as he wraps his body around you like a heavy blanket. You keep nuzzling your faces into each others hair while you let the silence be filled by your affections. Silence except for the TV which’s now playing the final scenes of “Die Hard” in the background.

After some time, Dean pushes himself off you, gently sitting back down on your bum as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. His hands are kneading the flesh of your ass as he watches you with hooded eyes. Then a cheeky grin begins to form on his lips when he realizes something.

“Y’know, you’re laying down in the perfect position for me to do somethin’.” He states with a full-out grin now.

“Huh-?” Before you can even process what’s happening, his fingers dig into the skin where he knows you’re the most ticklish.

“Dean!!” You squeal like a mouse – but the sound quickly hitches into a high-pitched giggle while you desperately try to wiggle away from him. “St-stop it- y-you jerk!” You stutter between gasps for air and the tears gathering on the rim of your eyes. You kick your legs, throwing him off and not wasting your chance, slipping away to scramble for an escape.

But you quickly find yourself back on the motel rug with a gasp and a thud, thanks to Dean pulling you back by the ankle. His smile has turned into that smug grin of his when he taunts you in a commanding voice, “Where d’you think you’re goin’, hm?”

“Th-that’s- unfair!!” you protest, but your words dissipate in another round of giggles as you turn onto your side, trying to free yourself. But Dean has his calves wrapped around your knee to lock it while his fingers skitter across the heel of your foot. You grapple with his free hand but he effortlessly evades your flailing limbs and grips you by the hip before you get to wiggle away again.

Next moment, you find yourself unceremoniously flipped back onto your stomach and his weight dropped down on your ass to pin you down bellow him. His thighs straddle you, this time reverse as his hands dart out to snatch one of your ankles, bending your leg back so he can continue his assault.

“Unfair? Me?” He lets out a deep chuckle, lips pursed in mock-innocence, his head tilted to glance back down at you over his shoulder. He stills his teasing fingers, waiting for your reaction.

You try to catch your breath while you narrow your watering eyes at him, daring him to go on.

Of course that sly bastard musters the audacity to answer your threat with a wink of his emerald eyes glinting with mischief and his lips flashed into that cocky smirk of his.

“Never.”

A/N: Dean going from goofy to smut to fluff to rough sex and back to fluffy and goofy like 📈 Idk I just see him like this, a caring 'n goofy softdom horn dog who loves it when he can show you new things.

Let me know what you think and if you got to enjoy it my sweet vixens ♡

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Kinky Advent Calendar Tags:

@ariasong11 ♡ @deansjacket ♡ @literallylexa ♡ @lmpala1967 ♡ @foxyjwls007 ♡ @impala67rollingthroughtown ♡ @aylacavebear ♡ @jc-winchester

[uncannydevotion]

Can you do toby, hoodie, and masky being instructed to kill their s/o by slender? Would they actually go through with it?

a/n: picture me rubbing my hands together evilly upon reading this request okay. this is so so so short but i felt like it would drag on if i made it any longer im sorry </3 but i hope you enjoy it!! thanks for the request, i love angst <3

warnings: major character death in tobys part!! murder, attempted murder, blood, descriptive death, memory loss, overall everyone has a bad time, but hoodie is like... vibing. also not proofread im incapable of rereading things i write.

MASKY

It's certainly not an order he intends on following, but he's well aware that he's susceptible to Slender's influence, so he's not quiet sure how to avoid it.

The only one of the three to actually try and negotiate with Slender. You weren't a threat to anyone, let alone it. He didn't understand why the being was hellbent on getting him to kill you, especially since it knew that he loved you.

And that's just the reason.

He loved you, so you were a distraction. You were a weakness, and Slender doesn't take well to its proxies having weaknesses.

But it was a reasonable being. For Masky, at least. The man was logical, so they saw eye to eye a fair amount of times. He had yet to go against any of his other orders, so Slender was willing to negotiate.

Its terms? Masky would have to cut all contact with you and your memory of him would have to be taken so to ensure you wouldn't try finding him. And in exchange, you would get to keep your life.

Now, obviously, he didn't want that. Masky loved you, so why would he ever want to part ways with you? Almost as if to show him what would happen if he didn't accept its terms, Slender caused the man to black out, and when he came to...

He was in your bedroom, standing over your bed as you slept, a gun pointing at you. His finger was on the trigger, and he quickly dropped the gun before anything could happen.

The thought of you dying, the reality of living in a world without you in it, was enough to make him agree to Slender's terms. Masky disappeared from your life, and your memory of him went with.

Though he remembered you. A sick form of punishment, perhaps, for falling in love. He remembered everything about you.

HOODIE

Hoodie is, out of the three, the one most likely here to blatantly disobey Slender without fear of consequence. Though Slender is technically his boss, he's not the type to blindly follow orders unless they make sense to him.

No amount of punishment has been able to break him, but he's too valuable of a proxy for Slender to rid of him.

When the order first comes to his mind, he almost laughs from the sheer absurdity of it.

He does not care what reason the entity might have for wanting you dead. Hoodie loved you, so he would not kill you. And should Slender try getting one of the other proxies to try and kill you, Hoodie is not against harming them.

His loyalties lie with you, first and foremost.

You are one of the very few things in his life that brings him joy, there's just literally no way in hell he'll let anything take that away from him. Not even his evil eldritch boss can force him away from you.

And unlike Masky, he won't distance himself from you. He's... pretty selfish, to be honest. His very presence puts you in harms way, and you might have people actively trying to murder you from now on but don't worry!!

He'll keep you safe, trust him.

TICCI TOBY

The only one here who will actually kill you. He doesn't want to, believe me. Toby will actively go out of his way to try and defy Slender like Hoodie, even, but he is the entity's most loyal proxy, so it's a short battle.

Toby's loyalty to the faceless being runs deeper than anything else, even his love for you. If Slender wants him to kill someone, then he will.

But he doesn't kill you willingly, if that makes you feel any better. Toby ignores the order for as long as he can, until Slender runs out of patience. And when it does, it will hound Toby with endless static and agonizing pain, punishment for disobeying its orders.

It will break Toby down, and once it's sure that Toby can't disobey it again, Slender will demand he kill you. And this time, in a mindless haze, Toby does it.

Maybe he thinks he's killing someone else, your screams and cries falling upon deaf ears as he slams his hatchets into you over and over again under you could no longer be recognized, your blood staining his clothes and skin.

Toby won't remember you. You were a weakness that had to be purged, so Slender ensured that every memory he had of you was repressed. But even so, there's this aching feeling in his chest. As if he was missing something important, something he can't quite place.

He mourns you, and yet he can't even remember you. He just feels... anguish, for some reason.

[nuggets-small-corner]

Camp Counselor Nanami who only took this job as a last resort thing and was trying to see it in a more positive light that he got a chance to escape the city. Life after college was tough for him and if he got a chance to ignore his problems, then he’ll take it. 

Camp Counselor Nanami who is shocked to see such a cute worker here. You were apparently one of the head counselors who worked over the arts and crafts section. He regretted putting himself down for the outdoors activities now. 

Camp Counselor Nanami tries so hard to make sure to be next to you every single training day leading up to the camp session. He made sure to arrive at the meeting at least 30 seconds after you in order to sit next to you without having to ask you to sit next to him. This results in you calling him your seat partner and cracking jokes with him. 

Camp Counselor Nanami who is actually slightly upset once the new camping session starts because that means less time together. He has to spend his morning getting ready the outside activities with the other counselors then wrangling together some kids to do said activities, then clean up after them. 

Camp Counselor Nanami did realize after 3 days that the kids schedule was different than what he assumed. The kids had arts and crafts after their outdoor activities.

Camp Counselor Nanami who always volunteers to walk the kids from the site to the main cabin for their arts and crafts. The first day he brought them over, he saw you squatting with paint splattered all over you. You looked up and happily called out his name. His simple name sounded so sweet coming from your mouth. 

Camp Counselor Nanami doesn’t even need to start a conversation as you were always skipping towards him to greet him and ask how the outdoors activity went. His brain was too busy looking at how pretty you look with some random glitter across your cheek. He was so tempted to wipe it away to feel how soft and warm your skin was. Or maybe it was cool from the blasting AC in the cabin. Maybe he could warm you up. 

Camp Counselor Nanami that always struggles through the transition report to let you know of what happened beforehand. However, can you blame him? He’ll be in the middle of talking and he can see the way your eyes trailed down his neck that was still drenched in sweat from the unforgiving sun. The way your head tilts as you look him over once before looking up at him through your lashes. 

Camp Counselor Nanami who has an inner turmoil over if you’re actually checking him out or just looking at him. He hates how he stutters over his words. This gorgeous person is in front of him and he’s acting like he’s unable to put together a coherent sentence. 

Camp Counselor Nanami arrives for lunch and is ready to sit at the counselor's table like usual, but at the very last minute, he sees you running up to him. Your hand wraps about his arm and he felt slightly pleased to see that your hand was unable to wrap around his bicep. 

You happily talked about how a flock of ducks had just flown into the lake and how you were going to eat out there. Camp Counselor Nanami doesn’t even think twice to follow you to the lake, even if you hadn’t directly invited him. 

Camp Counselor Nanami that wasn’t prepared when you leaned up next to him under the tree. The ducks were flying around the lake and even coming on the land to check out their surroundings. However, he was too busy looking at the way you were curling into him as you animatedly talked about how arts and crafts went. You spoke about the pink hair kid who made muppets of his other friends. You went on to how one student who did not want to take off his panda onesie got an entire bottle of glue on his fur.

Camp Counselor Nanami who, respectfully, didn’t give a flying fuck what those kids did. He was staring down at the sunlight dancing across your skin. The way your top was a little too tight allowed him to see your beautiful body that he wanted to feel in his hand. The way his shoulder was being used as your pillow to talk. He felt like he couldn’t breathe from the fear of ruining this moment with you. 

Your eyes looked at Nanami to see his pupil blow wide as he stared deeply at you. You almost wanted to look away from how intense he was looking at you. His stoic face made it seem like he was upset, but after a month together, you had a feeling of what he was feeling. 

Camp Counselor Nanami felt his entire body tense up as your hand reached up to his face to gently hold it. Your body rotated causing more of it to be pressed up against him. You were mumbling something, but he could barely hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. He didn’t dare move or breathe as you began to lean in. Your eyes slowly close, allowing your long lashes to lay against your cheek. 

Camp Counselor Nanami who for a split second considers murder when his name is yelled by a group of kids. You jumped away from him just in time for three of the kids to come running up talking about lunch being over. The pink-haired kid began to talk about how he didn’t see Nanami or Y/N return to the cabin and wanted to make sure you guys weren’t hurt. 

Camp Counselor Nanami who doesn’t respond. He just gets up from the tree and walks over to the boy. His hand reaches out and grabs the back of the boy shirt. Almost effortlessly, he lifts the boy up and begins to walk back to the cabin. A heavenly sound of giggles comes from behind him and Nanami feels the invisible string pull his eyes back to you. 

Camp Counselor Nanami who stares in awe at how your legs were pulled up and you appeared slightly embarrassed, but still managed to laugh all together. You look up with what he can now place as adoration. “Maybe tomorrow, I can show you another spot, seat partner?”

Camp Counselor Nanami gives you a rare smile as he nodded at you. The kid in his arm starts to squeal and laugh, talking about putting him down. Nanami ignores him to get another look at how beautiful you look. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Camp Counselor Nanami who will make sure to ‘accidentally’ lock the cabin door tomorrow.

[d3lly1000]

I finally watched Sonic 3!!!!! (IT WAS ONE OF THE BEST EXPERIENCES OF MY LIFE)

I had been holding back so I could talk without worrying about spoilers, but I think I can now comment on my general opinion of the movie.

There will be spoilers, so you have been warned!

I’ll admit that I found the first act a bit rushed. I understand that they had a lot of characters to “reintroduce” and new ones to add (especially Shadow), but I felt a bit lost with what was happening—it was really convenient how the script handled a lot of things just to get to the point.

For example: Shadow attacking in Japan with no real explanation, Rockwell quickly finding Sonic and the others. Even Commander Walters showed up just to explain what happened in the past, only to die unexpectedly right after. Even though he's not a particularly memorable character, I felt like his death didn’t carry the weight it should have, even for Team Sonic who witnessed it.

There was also the fact that a lot of what happened in the first act had already been revealed in the trailers and TV spots, which kind of deflated my excitement, knowing what was going to happen. But as I said, things were happening so fast that I couldn’t process all the information right away! XD

I have to say, I absolutely love the interactions between all the characters. The relationships and how they were developed felt so unique to me. I’ve always had the headcanon that Knuckles, Tails, and Sonic acted like siblings, and in the movies, I got to witness that in a meaningful and very loving way (shoutout to Tails saving Sonic and Knuckles protecting them, my boys <3).

One of my favorite scenes is definitely the argument between Knuckles and Sonic, as it really shows their maturity. It shows how much they are changing with each movie, which is so valuable to me because it demonstrates that the characters are really learning from their experiences. In a franchise, this deepens their moral journey and enriches who they are — it’s truly wonderful.

Speaking of siblings, I can’t not talk about Maria and Shadow. Right from the beginning, I could already feel the heartache hearing Live and Learn in an acoustic version. I think for fans who know how iconic this song is for the franchise, the idea that MARIA COULD HAVE BEEN THE ORIGINAL COMPOSER of it (at least in the SCU) hits so hard.

The narrative of Shadow talking about Maria always moved me, and the film managed to emphasize what she meant to Shadow in such a sweet way. Seeing the scene where Shadow recalls the day of the accident and then carrying the Eclipse Cannon gave me chills.

The parallels between Sonic/Shadow and Tom/Maria were something I was really looking forward to! The franchise often makes these types of comparisons between characters, not just in the games but also in the movies. As I mentioned before, I think this makes everything richer — it gives you a new perspective and helps you understand the complexity of characters by revisiting the "same memory" through a different person. I love when they do that!

ABOUT THE FIGHT SCENES, ALL OF THEM. I was breathless! I have to confess I was cursing A LOT during the third act. It was so epic, something you wouldn’t even think you'd see! Super Form battles were such a great concept for the situation, seeing Sonic get so angry really fed my fan dream of seeing him want to destroy everything XDD. Shadow literally crushed him, both physically and mentally. He REALLY IS THE STAR of this movie. The whole year was his. And he delivered in every possible media!

((I screamed so much when they did the pose, Live and Learn, it was so epic.))

Jim Carrey’s performance is always amazing. I’m still stunned at how naturally Gerald and Eggman felt together. It really seemed like a completely different actor, and that’s insane! I think the only thing I wish we’d seen more of was scenes between Gerald and Maria in the past, but who knows, maybe they’re planning something for a "Shadow solo spin-off."

The light shines, even when the star dies. – I was already emotionally losing it inside, there were just so many things to process.

AND THE POST-CREDITS SCENE HAUSFHSAIFHGVSNUHGUSAHGUSAH

OK OK I’M >TOTALLY< NORMAL ABOUT MY BABIES

Literally my two FAVORITES showed up. METAL WILL BE THE MAIN VILLAIN, I have so many theories and DEFINITELY it will be an adaptation of Heroes and CD. I CAN'T WAIT to see him in action, the whole Artificial vs. Natural thing is something that really resonates with me in the rivalry between him and Sonic.

AND HAUSHFUASFHUASFH AMY MY GIRL!!!

She’s so cool, she appeared in SUCH A UNIQUE way, the cracked moon in the background, revealing herself by taking off the hood... I can’t wait to see her in 2027... I need it so much aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I definitely loved the movie a lot. I still want to rewatch it in English since I saw it dubbed in my language, but I think I’d give it an 8.5/10 or 9/10! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS MOVIE!! I’m still shaking remembering the action scene sahufzahghaghs

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 28

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27

1.4k words

A much calmer Zen has a lot to unload.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

--------

Zen’s fluffy, shaggy hair tickled your nose as he stirred a bit and woke you. In the nearly two months you had been together you could not recall a single time when he slept in, seeing him still in bed was quite a surprise.

You kissed the top of his head and immediately felt him nuzzle against you, though you were not really sure if he was actually awake or if it was a subconscious reaction. His breathing was deep and even, and he seemed much calmer at least.

“Are you awake?” you whispered.

He nodded, apparently still not feeling quite up to speaking.

“Are you alright?”

Again he just nodded.

“Everything is alright my dear, I promise” you scratched the side of his head where his hair was cropped short, the only spot where you really could get through his dense hair to scratch his scalp.

“I ruined everything” his voice was so quiet as he spoke.

“No, no. You didn’t ruin anything Zen.”

“I hurt you the first time yesterday, then I went and did that.”

“And it’s ok, things happen, but you didn’t ruin anything.”

He stayed quiet and did not acknowledge you.

“I’m not mad or upset or anything” you tried to assure him, “I’m just worried about you, I just want you to be alright,”

“I am upset at myself.”

“I know” you kissed the top of his head again, “and we’ll figure it out together, I promise.”

That seemed to at least somewhat satisfy him, he gave another little nuzzle against you and you swore for just a moment that you heard him purr.

“How about I make us some breakfast? You’ve got to be starving by now, you never sleep this late” you offered.

“You are not good at cooking.”

“Then come sit with me and tell me what to do and keep me company.”

He nodded and shimmed off of you so you could get up.

Zen stuck at your side as you sat at the hearth, a blanket still wrapped around himself and his chin resting on your shoulder while he watched you closely. With a little guidance you were able to make a serviceable enough breakfast for the two of you.

It was a bit smothering how Zen chose to sit behind and a bit to your side so he could lean his chin on your shoulder. He decided to eat breakfast like that too, his arms wrapped around you as he reached for things, restricting how much you could move but you did not have the heart to try to get him to just sit next to you instead.

“It should not be like this” you heard him say softly.

“I know, but this is where we are, and we can go back to taking things slowly” you leaned against him and nuzzled him a bit, “and if it makes you feel any better, you felt incredible last night. But I can wait while we figure things out.”

He buried his face against your neck as best he could with his tusks getting in the way. It was faint, but you could hear his soft purring for just a moment.

“I am just so tired of waiting. I waited for so long for this war to end so I could just go home. And now instead I am here, where I barely get to speak my own tongue, my festivals are not celebrated here. I fought so one day I could go home, and I still cannot. And now I do not want to wait more to have you.”

It never occurred to you that Zen might be homesick. You knew he was not from the city, but he usually seemed happy. He knew so many people, always stopping to smile and chat with when the two of you were out, he knew his way around the city well, everything always seemed fine anyways.

“Have you gone back to visit recently?” you asked.

“Not since the end of the war. I went home to see everyone, and then almost immediately got summoned here and offered the position.”

Six months then you figured at least since he had been home. Six months since Zen had started living somewhere where everything was new and different, where he did not have his family, where he could almost never speak his own language. The irony that neither of you were home here was not lost on you.

“Why not go visit?” you asked.

“I do not have the time. There is just to much to do here” he said.

“Even just for a week or so?”

“We are rebuilding after a war. It is a puzzle of constantly changing and moving pieces trying to figure out what is needed and where.”

“And no one on the council ever takes time away?”

“Some do.”

“So why don’t you?”

He stayed quiet, his face still buried against neck.

“We can go visit together, if you want” you said.

“Maybe.”

‘Maybe’ was better than ‘no’ at least you figured. Though it felt odd that for someone who seemed to be homesick to also be so resistant to visiting home.

“I haven’t met any of your family, well except Bira. I think it would be nice if we went and visited.”

“I did not tell my family I got married.”

You pulled away from him just enough to look him in the eye, “What?”

“It was decided pretty fast, and at the time it did not seem like a big deal, so I did not say anything.”

“Zen! We’ve been married for almost two months! What do you mean you never actually told your family? When you found out you were getting married you didn’t send them a letter or anything?!” you could not believe what he was saying.

“I was told I was getting married in a month’s time, but at the time I did not consider it real. It was just another thing I had to do. It did not seem worth making a big deal of and getting my family involved.”

You really were not surprised that it was not something he made a fuss over, he already had told you that arranged marriages were not a thing here, it was just another duty to him on par with anything else really. But it did surprise you that months after he still had not told his family.

“So they really don’t know?” you asked.

“No, just Ba and Bira, and I asked them not say anything.”

“And you’re sure they haven’t said anything?”

“If my mother knew I was married and she was not here for the wedding she would have made the trip here to yell at me in person by now. I would never hear the end of it.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to somehow never tell your family that you’re married?” you snapped a bit at him.

“No! No” he tried to press his forehead to yours, frantically tugging at you so he could face you and reach you. “I just do not know what to do now.”

“Tell your family” you answered him flatly.

“I know, but now I do not know how to do that now. I do not want to just show up and surprise them, ‘Hi mother, I have not seen you in months. By the way this is my wife, we have been married for two months and I never told you’ because that will go well.”

“Why not send a letter? Just explain the same thing you told me” you suggested. His family would probably still be annoyed, but at least it would help smooth things over.

“It is not easy to send a letter that far” he protested.

“So you would rather just show up and surprise them?”

“No.”

“Then send a letter.”

He sighed and nuzzled his forehead against yours, “I will send a letter.”

“And perhaps we’ll visit for the next festival?”

“Maybe.”

“You can’t avoid your family forever.”

“Not forever, just long enough to not be yelled at too much.”

“Zen” you pushed back.

“We will go for the next festival” he finally conceded.

--------

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[strawberrystepmom]

bakugou x f!reader. part 3 of a mini series called by heart. part 1 can be found here, part 2 can be found here cw: mentions of alcohol, implied sexual content, weddings. | word count: 2.8k, reading time: ~12 minutes

The morning after. 

You managed to rise at the same time as Katsuki, his incredibly loud alarm blaring through the wall that both of your beds are against on opposite sides. It only sounded once, naturally, yet you found it impossible to go back to sleep knowing he was stirring just a few feet away. 

He robbed you of the opportunity to witness him covered in dawn’s first light. Does he look like he’s on fire, a mythical hero from an old tale when the sun streams through his downy blonde body hair and tinges it red? Could you ever convince him to linger between the sheets after that alarm goes off, wrapping your thigh over his and kissing the planes of his chest?

Shooting up, you decided to simply start your day instead of following such a dangerous line of thinking down an unknown path. 

One workout, shower, and ‘got frustrated while getting dressed and left a tornado of sequins and leather shoes behind’ scenario later and you are finally making your way down to the resort’s restaurant for brunch. 

Katsuki, of course, is already sitting at the place designated as his with his name. Yours is directly next to him. 

You’re in a better mood today and didn’t concoct any plans to make him grovel for forgiveness overnight. It’s like turning over a new page in a fresh book, getting to know each other all over again for the first time. 

Right?

Sighing to yourself, you guess that probably only works with people whose secretions you don’t remember the taste of. Or something.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you inhale in and out for one beat and hold your head high walking toward the table. There’s no reason not to take last night at face value and see the hatchet as buried. You’re a few steps away from finding out if it is or not either way. 

“Morning,” he offers as you come closer.

His table setting has only minimally been rearranged, tea on the left and water on the right. You pause for a moment to watch him slowly start to change your setting too, moving your coffee mug and water glass around and fluffing your napkin.  

“Good morning, I hope you slept well.”

He snorts at your formality and refuses to encourage it further, instead reaching for the sugar he knows you take in your coffee and tearing the wrappers in half, pouring a stack of three into the bottom of your mug. 

“I can’t believe they’re using sugar packets at a place like this.”

Giggling, you pull out your chair to sit down, leaning close to him in the process. 

“You’re such a snob.”

If this assessment were coming from anyone else he’d be wildly insulted but it’s you. So you get the ‘he’s used to your incessant ribbing’ eye roll. 

“Is it really that horrible to want to see people get what they pay for?” 

Steadying your chair by pushing the toe of his dress shoe against the leg of it that rests closest to him, he pours coffee over the sugar while you sit. He leans over the table and picks up a spoon, stirring your drink to make sure everything is distributed the way it should be (read: the way he thinks it should be), tapping it delicately on the ceramic lip when he’s finished. 

“Look around this place and imagine how much it costs - it’s absolute bullshit there are packets instead of cubes.”

It never fails that you forget how refined he is between your periods of time spent together so it’s a treat to see the careful consideration he puts into nearly every move he makes. What he lacks in soft skills with his words he makes up for in impeccable manners when they matter the most, habits you’re sure his mother gave him no choice but to adopt to offset his natural unruliness. 

Finally situated and seated, you turn toward your male counterpart and grace him with a wry half-smile. 

“Better let Deku know they’re slighting him out of at least one yen per grain of sugar.”

The tension that flared during your conversation last night appears to have been put to rest if you’re comfortable enough to make a joke. Unfunny as it is, it’s a good sign that you’re ready to move on. Finally discarding the spoon, Katsuki folds his arms over his chest and glowers in your general direction.

“Are we…?” 

He doesn’t want to be any more of an asshole than he’s already been and assume, so he trails off. You pick up your coffee and sip, placing it down with a smile. 

“Good?”

A solemn nod from him, arms still folded. “Yeah.”

Pretending to waffle for a minute, you puff out your lips and look around the dining room, humming to yourself. 

“Hmm…I have a few more questions but consider yourself off the hook. For now.”

Exhaling loudly through his nose, you find yourself wondering if it isn’t a sigh of relief. What, exactly, he’s feeling relieved about is anyone’s guess. You have no plans of letting it derail your day that is going to be filled with brunch, hugs, and girl time with the rest of the bridesmaids that will be arriving today so you change the subject.

“How was Midoriya this morning?”

You place perfectly made coffee down and reach across the table to dish up berries onto his plate and yours, subtly reminding Bakugou that the groom to be isn’t only his friend, turning your body to fully face him. 

There’s no sense in asking how you even knew the two of them went for their usual morning run together, he’s well aware that info came directly from the bride. The blonde shakes his head thinking of his lifelong friend’s ear to ear grin when discussing his soon to be wife. Even while feeling a little anxious he didn’t bother to hide his joy and how lucky he feels to spend the rest of his life with a woman he unashamedly called his other half. 

Clearing his throat upon realizing it feels a little heavy with emotion, he decides to choose his words carefully. The term other half has danced around in his mind since Izuku said it hours earlier.

What does it mean to be someone’s other half? Is it to make them better? To fill in their gaps and let them do like in return? 

It’s a lot to consider. Too much, actually. He reaches for his water and takes a sip, coming to senses enough to speak. 

“I can tell he’s excited, he asked me to read over his vo—-“

“There you are!”

Before he can finish that thought, another sound Katsuki wasn’t looking forward to hearing all weekend captures the attention of the other guests who turn their heads to see the source. 

His mother. 

“And you too!” She calls, pointing at the occupied spot next to her son to which you respond with a wiggly fingered wave and a lazy grin.

Mitsuki Bakugou, aging gracefully and claiming naturally, approaches the two of you with the same determined smile you’ve seen her son wear on a few occasions. She and Masaru made it last night between the welcome dinner and his time at the bar with you. Their son welcomed them with mostly fake reluctance. 

Truthfully, he’s happy they’re here. They’ve cared about Izuku as much as they have him throughout their lives and it seems only right they witness the newest beautiful branch of the Midoriya family tree sprout. 

He simply doesn’t want to deal with both you and his mom at the same time. You’re high maintenance in different ways - she with her fierce spirit and you with your unfortunately difficult to ignore nature - and he has a duty to fulfill. 

“I asked her to tone it down this weekend,” he mumbles under his breath and sips from the water he’s now nearly white knuckle gripping.

You fake pout in his direction, reaching to pat one of his cheeks but he dodges you at the final second.

“She’s just excited to see her handsome baby boy. Have a heart.”

If side-eyes could kill, you’d be a cadaver yet it doesn’t deter you from leaning in closer, the space between your chest and his shoulder getting too small for comfort. 

“Oh that’s perfect! Hold on, let me get my camera…” 

The woman of the hour has finally made her way over. Her son grits his teeth and looks away, refusing to bother hiding his annoyance. It’s the most childish habit of his that has hung over into adulthood. If it were seen as less uncouth to simply physically remove yourself from situations you don’t want to be in, he’d just do that. 

“Hurry up,” he warns with arms folded over his chest. 

“Not until you uncross your arms,” his mother sing-songs from in front of the two of you, phone covering her features. 

He unfolds his arms and lets them dangle rebelliously at his sides. You lean in as close as you can without potentially getting bit, putting on your very best photo smile, sitting frozen. 

“Pull that woman closer to you or so help me...”

Without any warning, Bakugou’s arm snakes its way around your shoulders and pulls you against his side. Attempting to keep your smile and show no surprise, you clench your jaw tightly knowing he’s almost certainly doing the same. Big fingers cup your shoulder, almost tenderly, and his smile is tight but there when you steal a glance at him and just like that the flash goes off. 

Backing her phone away from her face, his mother beams. “I might need to frame that one!” She flips her phone around to show off the photo.

His arm around your shoulder, the trace of a real smile on his face and not just the fake one you assumed he had. You, face turned to look at him with tenderness you’d usually reserve for a man you’d be calling your lover. 

To the unfamiliar, you two would look shockingly…together. 

“It’s good, mom. Thanks for taking it.” 

He pushes the phone away, hoping to get this ordeal over with sooner rather than later. His mother is insisting on sticking around, picking around the table and making little notes about what she sees aloud. Of course this is no big deal to her.

“Sugar packets?” 

The Bakugou matriarch wrinkles her nose in disgust while plucking one from their ceramic home causing you to swallow a laugh. Katsuki throws up his hands as if to say “told you so”.

“I said the same thing and she acted like I was crazy.”

Mitsuki hums to herself, placing the packet back in its cradle and zeroing in on you with a smile. “Well when it’s finally you two’s turn we’ll make sure there are cubes, won’t we?”

The warmth drains from your face, eyes widening and before you can catch yourself to prevent the horrified expression from being seen you’ve been spotted. Such open disgust has told him more than you ever will. The blonde next to you snorts bitterly and looks away yet again in an effort to distance himself from the situation. 

“Lighten up, I’m just messin’ with you both.” She digs in her purse, eventually giving up and dropping her phone inside. “Anyway, I need to go find Inko. I need to see how she’s handling all of this for when it’s finally my turn.”

Kissing her son atop his head and ruffling his hair, she wiggles her fingers at you while taking her leave with no idea about the mess she’s left behind. 

“Are we…?”

It’s you asking it this time, a little alarmed by his distance and silence and that his eyes haven’t even bothered to turn toward you since you were caught.  

“Yup,” he emphasizes the “p” with a popping noise while leaning across the table to dish up his plate. “Have some questions just like you but we are so fucking good.”

Despite his obvious annoyance and the way he speaks through gritted teeth, he spoons out portions of each of the dishes on the table onto your plate alongside his own. 

The meal is consumed wordless and awkwardly, his eyes staying glued to the edges of the room until it’s time for you to go join the bridesmaids at the spa. 

[causeimcrayzeebee]

have you seen the kamimura lore drop and what are your thoughts?

ohbmy god this could’ve been so embarrassing cause i hadn’t seen it yet and was so confused as to what you meant so I was planning on just yapping about kamimura in general but then I saw it LMAO UM I WAS SO HAPPY CAUSE KAMIMURA CONTENT!!!!! KAMIMURA LORE!!! AND THEN SO FUCKING INCREDIBLY SAD FROM IT LIKE....THAT'S GORE... THAT'S GORE OF MY COMFORT CHARACTER.... um yeah I have work for law to do but I got too into reading the lore drop so lets talk about it! (I will get to my work after trust) spoiler warning for chapters 1-3 and tetro typical trigger warnings!!! take care of yourself!!

I am not going to cover the ableism portion or too much of the diagnosis/hospital parts because I am not personally disabled and would like to let other disabled people talk about it, so i'll leave the rest of the conversation to others in the community!

also i took notes while reading it to organize my thoughts like usual (im so bad at putting words together well). some of these are kinda funny so here are some highlights lmfao

alright, now lets actually be serious.

firstly, I'm so glad that kamimura at least had a good childhood. I think it really shows in the way he interacts with the tetro pink cast that he was a sociable and happy kid! my mom actually teaches preschool so shes taught me a lot about early childhood psychology (shout out to my mother guys!!!!!). one of the biggest takeaways I've had from her is that the first five years of one's life are the most important in development! that's what Montessori programs keep in mind and throughout preschool and early kinder, they take time to establish learning through play; a lot of people have the misconception that letting kids play at school is just letting them mess around, but it's crucial in building their skills! kids learn to socialize with others and to problem solve; that foundation is very important for everything else moving forward in life! I could rant about how preschools need to utilize this more, esp in the American education system, but I digress. my main point goes to something I (and a couple other people I'm not original in this LMAO) have mentioned before about how it makes more sense out of hasegawa and kamimura, that they'd kill off kamimura because he had other people. kamimura, despite having further and further cut himself off from the world right till the end (until the kg at least), still managed to make meaningful connections, like tamba and hayashi, even if they weren't like ideal. the way he approaches tamba is very caring in a way that can seem like it's not, yk? likely it stems from his trust issues, it's scary to put your genuine real feelings out there, so hiding them with some snide remarks is easier. luckily, tamba has a similar approach so hey. shout out tamba n kamimura you will always be special to me.

anyways, its both so amazing and so heartbreaking that his parents were so loving and supportive, but died too soon. I do wonder about the role of attachment in this case; like specifically in babies/toddlers, they get attached to their parents usually because that's the first person they see, the first to take care of them. kamimura was able to get that love and support from his parents, even when it got so much harder and the days in the hospitals got longer. so having it all be taken away when you're NINE? that's obviously gonna destroy you, and that leads to his trust issues and isolation. he was able to thrive still as a young child because he had his parents to support him! so when that's all gone, how else are you supposed to cope?

yeah fuck you family friend, that was brutal. I cant even imagine coming home from school to find your parents absolutely desecrated. the day of his parents death beginning the routine of staying locked in his room.... oh my god like what if I cried (I did). that probably changed the way he thought about his room; his room was an escape from the horrors of the outside world. if he just stayed in the room, he wouldn't have to experience the fucked up world. it became a habit. EUGAHHD I'm in shambles.

after the murder of his parents, it's understandable that it shook kamimura and his aunt to their core. that was a violent murder (by a man who was literally just rejected romantically.... its so fucking upsetting that that is a common crime). his aunt wasn't even ready to have kids so having the responsibility of taking in kamimura must've been a lot. In regards to homesick, despite the very clear distance in their relationship, kamimura really seems to appreciate her being there, even if it was very distanced; she was still an important part of his grieving process and his whole life honestly.

oh boy here we go. isao when I catch you istg..... sorry that's an exaggeration, likely this was from a societal disgust, yk just homophobia from the world, so I cant really blame this kid too much.... but we still have beef. god, this was one of those actually crushing crushes, hm. it's so fucked up; someone who was starting to get kamimura a bit out of the dark space that was his life, giving him something to enjoy and be happy about! and all of that was just thrown away because kamimura was vulnerable and shared his feelings. not having your feelings returned can already be devastating, but this? the spread of rumors, the bullying, the losing his one friend? it's like the world wants to torture him omfg. here the trust issues become worse; those who loved him leave, those who he loved leave. everyone just leaves, so what's the point?

this explains his relationship with hasegawa, and the issue after trial 1. it had to have felt way too familiar; telling someone he was fond of vulnerable information, only for it to be told to a bunch of people he never wanted in his fucking business. however, I think the reason why they made up rather quickly in clean up crew (which btw I watched w my friend earlier today bc I got them into tetro........ god I love that episode) is hasegawa's response. hasegawa, unlike isao, is remorseful, he CARES. hasegawa even shares something personal to him, about his own loss.

I think this also changes the scene of hasegawa coming out a bit. before, he was rejected by isao because he was a homophobic douchebag. but in the student spotlight, hasegawa casually says he's not into girls. while its funny thinking that kamimura was having some gay panic then lmao, I think actually it was probably processing that in a confused comfort, not exactly because his feelings could be reciprocated, but for this; hasegawa was so comfortable with coming out as gay, so comfortable with the concept, unlike isao. if kamimura confessed his feelings to hasegawa, and were (somehow) not reciprocated, he likely still wouldn't have ran away. of course, with kamimura's trust issues, he probably wasn't confident in that assumption, but hasegawa is not the kind of person to drop someone because they confessed to them. he would've kept the person that had become so important to him. and because of that maybe, just maybe, kamimura would've said what he really wanted to say if the interview had happened before woodshop.

once he's on his own and moves out, he no longer has someone reminding him to do things, so with no motivation to simply live, he ends up staying locked in his house like we've seen before. what's the point in anything? when that kind of spiral hits you, and you don't have other people present in your life to keep doing, how would you ever stay motivated?? I know it was a really informal post, so I might be going insane trying to add this to the analysis, but the repetition of 'but life goes on' I think really solidifies the importance of a support system. when things are difficult, the world never just stops, it keeps going despite your struggle. but having people who care about you around you can help make each day easier, they can help 'slow down time' if you will. kamimura has gone through an amount of stress no one should have to face, but people around him could have made it easier on him by being there. that's the tragedy of tetro.

it's especially tragic that at the very end, right before the kg, he was taking his own life.

(plot wise, I need to know what y'all theorists think of this bc I have ideas but i need to finish the staffside logs before I can even actually consider my thoughts lmfao.)

sorry to be captain obvious on a majority of this post lol but gosh wow. I really loved that we got this, it was so much information I am kinda stoked despite basically all of it being depressing as hell. tetro has really become an inspiration for me and writing, I am constantly so impressed by von's writing and it's given me perspective on how to approach writing as a whole. i feel as though this gave me so much perspective on kamimura himself as a character. some of this just confirmed my ideas already, but it strikes me as something so human just learning all of this. when I, or anyone really, first meet people, I only know surface level things, yk cause I don't know them. but then I start talking to them, and I learn about different things that have happened to them, how they feel about certain issues or what they're doing on a day to day basis. you can never know everything of course, but when you discover new parts of someone, it makes them more complex and they don't fit the idea you had of them before because people are complex!! and that's the beauty of writing, capturing humanity! the impact of each character, esp kamimura, has been so beautifully done, I'm just constantly moved as the story progresses.

thank y'all sm for reading my excuse to talk about kamimura, this was A LOT of blabbing I'm so so sorry but I hope you enjoyed haha! :)

[cryptidafter]

Late to the party but I wanted to share my

Top 5 GLs of 2024! (only counting shows that I watched in 2024 and that finished airing in 2024)

Affair The Series

Nobody is doing obsession like Wan and Pleng! It’s about the drama, the chemistry, the possessiveness. This show gave me everything I’ve been craving for a GL to deliver on and then some. It’s wild to me that this is the first series Lookmhee and Sonya have done together because they’re both phenomenal. These two have had me in a chokehold ever since and I am desperately begging for a new LMSY show as soon as possible!

2. The Loyal Pin

I could go on and on about how much I adored this show. It was a sleeper hit for me and I’m glad I ended up continuing it. The beginning is a bit slow but once things pick up, it’s a great story. Freen and Becky are fantastic together, they really play off of each other well. Becky had some standout moments (that fabric monologue was !!!!). The costuming and detailed set design choices really bring this show to life and I’m not even a huge fan of period dramas. Despite a few questionable story choices, I think TLP delivered on what was promised. Also shoutout to @hallowpen for their write-ups each episode. I definitely learned a lot about Thai culture and customs thanks to them which helped enhance my viewing experience.

3. The Secret Of Us

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention TSOU. This was the first GL series I watched and I haven’t looked back since. It’s cute and a bit melodramatic but in the best way. I wrote two whole fics for this show while it was airing which is proof enough of how invested I was lol. Nothing will ever be quite as unhinged as Earn eating a banana to trigger an allergic reaction just so she can get admitted to the hospital her ex-girlfriend works at. Girl was DEDICATED and I love her for that lol.

4. Blank The Series

Nobody let me know that there was an age gap GL floating around (and that the age gap was the least wild part about the dynamics in this show lol) but better late than never! I’m shocked by how fast I powered through this show but I was hooked. This is another series that fully delivered on the drama with a healthy dose of heat which I appreciated. A fun and wild ride from start to finish!

5. Reverse 4 You

I will always be a sucker for time shenanigans so I was very excited for this one. I do wish it could’ve gotten a few extra episodes to really flesh out the plot towards the end but I appreciate the show for what it is. I enjoyed the relationship between Jattawa and her little sister and that it was equally as, if not more, important than the romance. A few scenes did genuinely shock me in a good way (this was before I discovered that the “someone gets hit by a car” trope was a staple of GLs lol). We have yet to get an actual butch character in a GL but I’m happy we at least got a bit of futch action going with Four (everyone say thank you Christine Gulasatree lol)

[nemesis-writer]

Five Minutes (Chapter 3)

Masterlist Let the Games Begin TW: mentions of blood, mental illness

The Waynes were waiting in agony for their first game. They were prepared to battle it together. But what they didn't know is that they each of them have to go through it alone.

In the Base...

I'm only known as Eurus in the underground world but my name shall always be (Y/N). I have built myself up all the way just to taste the blood in my hands. I was never gonna be the next Robin nor Batman, so why not create a name for my own.

I was able to send the letter for the first test for them, and have it sent anonymously. Now, I need to sleep as well.

I maybe a concierge of crime, but I also need to be with my baby.

At the Waynes'...

Everyone had to keep their eyes peeled and remain unflinching. Whenever there is a delivery or a package, there is always an inspection with x-rays in order to make sure that it's harmless.

They had to take extra precautions in order to prevent the exploitation of their identities, along with the ramifications of their 'stainless' reputation.

Until it was finally there...

The first game.

It had 'DAMIAN.' Written in capital letters, and in the notorious green color designed. Thanks Riddler.

The letter...

There's a child's life on the line Little Demon. If you try to pull anything, so here's a little riddle.

Here's a riddle based on Squid Game, Saw, and a basement:

'In shadows deep, where fear does grow, A game begins, you do not know. With each step forward, the danger nears, The stakes are high, and so are fears.

Twisted minds, with plans so sly, Trapped in a place where you can't ask why. A room cold, with echoes loud, Walls closing in, no escape allowed.

Through chains and locks, you struggle, fight, But only the brave can see the light. The clock is ticking, time is tight, Where are you now? What’s out of sight?'

"Bruce, what does this mean?", Damian wonders.

"Walls closing in? Trapped in a- Oh shit." Bruce cursed. It was an unusual sight for Bruce to curse since he was usually informed how barbaric it was by Alfred.

"It's a basement of an abandoned factory." Bruce stated.

"A bit more specific since there's like a hundred of them especially in Gotham." Jason says.

"Alright so I need everyone to split up and go through every abandoned factory and if anyone sees any sign of life or a clue then speak in the comms." Bruce commanded.

They all spread out one by one looking for the kid or at least a clue. Factory to factory, street to street, they searched high and low and even the most minute details weren't left out.

Until they finally found it.

The first clue.

"Guys I found the first clue, I'm in Bludhaven Street."yelled Dick.

Everyone rushed and reached the basement. It also showed an old, probably made in the 1900's, telephone. They were too eager to even notice the hidden security cameras.

Damian eagerly opened it and read:

'In a room so small, the walls feel tight, A game is set, but not of delight. No choice, no chance to run away, You must stay sharp and make your play.

The door is locked, the air is cold, Silent whispers of the truth untold. A puzzle waits, a test of mind, With every step, danger you’ll find.

Ticking sounds, a faint warning near, What’s hidden here is crystal clear. Almost there, the end in sight— But tread carefully, or face the night.'

'Room, ticking, no chance, locked door.' Bruce tries to think of it.

"A bomb in an apartment." Jason figured out and yelled. All the the sudden the phone starts to ring.

"Someone answer the phone," Cassandra yelled.

"You answer the fucking phone," Damian replied.

"This is your test Demon Spawn there is a kid on the line and more people with the kid." Jason retorts.

Damian reluctantly answered the phone and heard:

'Congratulations for the first game, Where blood will spill and none’s to blame. A twisted start, a sinister plot, A place where hope is soon forgot.

The faces cold, their eyes wide with fear, For every step, a fate draws near. No room for mercy, no chance to flee, In this cruel game, there’s no decree.

As the doors close, the lights grow dim, The air grows thick with a haunting hymn. A moment's silence, a final breath, The line between life and certain death.

Congratulations for the first game, But it’s too late now to place the blame. Tick-tock, tick-tock, it’s time to spin, Let the games begin.'

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire, @alishii, @cxcillia

[divinelyparkjimin]

— sweet and spicy [m] | ksj.

◦ summary ↠ studying with your tutor should be simple, but distractions can lead to unexpected lessons. who knew cramming for exams could get this... heated? (requested by anon)

◦ pairing ↠ seokjin x reader

◦ word count ↠ 5.9k

◦ genre ↠ fluff, smut

◦ content warning(s) ↠ tutor!seokjin, student!reader, suggestive/explicit content, dirty talk, penetrative sex, ejaculation, f. and m. orgasm, oral sex, a lot of making out, unprotected sex, handjob, tit sucking

a/n: this is for the anon that requested a oneshot with seokjin and his lovely lips <3 ik you said kinda spicy but i accidentally made it very spicy lol, hope you don't mind!

masterlist

The clock on the library wall ticked in perfect sync with your growing anxiety. You had been staring at the same problem for ten minutes, the numbers on the page blurring together into a mess of indecipherable hieroglyphics.

“I’m going to fail,” you muttered under your breath, slumping further into your seat.

Your professor’s voice from last week echoed in your head: “You should really consider a tutor. It might help clear up some of the confusion.”

And now, here you were, waiting for your supposed savior to arrive and pull you from the depths of statistical despair.

The door creaked open, and you glanced up just in time to see him step inside.

“Sorry I’m late,” the newcomer said, setting his bag on the table with a soft thud. “The café line was longer than I thought.”

He was tall, dressed in a cozy gray sweater that looked as soft as a cloud, and his black-rimmed glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose. But what truly caught your attention—against your better judgment—were his lips. They looked… soft. Pink. Kissable, even.

“I’m Seokjin,” he said, his voice warm and smooth. He offered a smile, and oh, that just made it worse. His lips curved in the kind of way that could make angels weep.

You snapped out of it, suddenly realizing he was waiting for you to introduce yourself. “Oh! Uh, hi. I’m—um—Y/N.”

He nodded, pulling out a notebook and pen. “Alright, so what’s giving you trouble?”

“Everything,” you admitted, gesturing dramatically at your textbook.

Seokjin laughed, the sound light and easy, but your eyes betrayed you and flicked to his mouth. The way his lips moved when he laughed—it was almost hypnotic. You mentally slapped yourself. Focus. You’re here to pass this class, not ogle your tutor.

“Okay, let’s start simple,” he said, flipping through your textbook until he found a page filled with diagrams and formulas. “Here’s a problem. Walk me through how you’d solve it.”

You nodded, trying to focus on the numbers. But Seokjin leaned closer to point something out on the page, and suddenly, your brain short-circuited. His lips were so close you could see the faintest shine of lip balm.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He tilted his head. “The problem?”

“Oh, uh…” You scrambled to come up with something that didn’t sound ridiculous. “Yeah, I… totally get it now. Thanks!”

His brows furrowed, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. “Really? Because you just wrote the wrong formula entirely.”

Your face flushed. “Oh. Right. I was just… testing you?”

Seokjin laughed again, the sound sending your heart racing. “Sure you were. Don’t worry, I’ll explain it again.”

By the third time Seokjin explained the problem, you had made some progress. But honestly? Your brain was running on fumes.

"See? It's not that bad," he said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. "You’re getting the hang of it.”

You managed a weak smile, still hyper-aware of the way his lips moved with every word. How was it possible to explain statistics and look that good doing it? It should’ve been illegal.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, tapping your pen against your notebook to distract yourself. "I mean, I still hate it, but at least it makes… slightly more sense now."

Seokjin chuckled, his shoulders shaking just enough to make his sweater shift in the most distracting way. You were about to tell yourself to get it together when he suddenly leaned forward again, his elbow propped on the table and his chin resting on his hand.

"So," he said casually, "why did you really sign up for tutoring? You don't seem like the type to give up easily."

You froze. Was he teasing you? His tone was light, but his eyes held genuine curiosity.

"Um," you stalled, trying to come up with a reasonable answer that didn’t involve your professor practically begging you to get help. "I guess I just… wanted to make sure I didn’t fail? You know, for my GPA."

He nodded thoughtfully, and for a moment, you thought you’d gotten away with it.

"Fair enough," he said. But then his lips quirked into a smirk. "But you might want to stop zoning out so much during our sessions if you really want that GPA to survive."

Your face burned. "I don’t—" You cut yourself off, realizing how defensive you sounded. "I’m not zoning out."

"Really?" he said, tilting his head. "Because every time I look up, you’re staring at me like I just said something in Greek."

"Maybe it’s because statistics is Greek," you shot back, desperate to steer the conversation away from your very obvious distraction.

He laughed again, and this time, it was louder, filling the quiet library room. His laughter wasn’t polished or quiet; it was unfiltered, almost boyish, and far too contagious.

“Well, maybe I should start explaining in actual Greek,” he teased, closing your textbook with a soft thud. “Or we could call it a day. You’re making progress, but your brain looks like it’s about to overheat.”

You opened your mouth to protest but realized he wasn’t wrong. “Fine,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “But next time, you’re bringing snacks. Brain fuel and all that.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk. “You’re really bold for someone who just admitted to hating this entire subject.”

“And yet,” you shot back, gathering your things, “you’re still tutoring me. So, who’s the real fool here?”

His laughter bubbled up again, softer this time, and you felt a small swell of pride at having made him laugh. It was quickly replaced by a flutter of nerves when he reached over to tap the corner of your notebook.

“Same time next week?” he asked, his voice a little quieter.

“Yeah,” you said, suddenly feeling warm under his gaze. “Thanks, Seokjin.”

He smiled, a soft, almost shy thing, and nodded. “Anytime.”

The following week, you found yourself looking forward to tutoring. Not because of the subject (God, no), but because of him. Every time you walked into the library and saw him waiting there, his glasses perched on his nose and a soft smile playing on his lips, it was like a little jolt of electricity.

This time, Seokjin greeted you with a coffee cup and a small bag of pastries.

“Fuel,” he said, holding them out. “For the overworked student who claims to hate stats but keeps showing up anyway.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You actually brought snacks? You know I was just kidding.”

He shrugged, but there was a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I thought it might help. Plus, bribery works wonders for focus.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Only when I have pastries,” he replied, sliding one toward you.

For the next hour, you worked through problems, your frustration ebbing slightly thanks to the sugar and Seokjin’s patient explanations. Still, your focus wavered every now and then—especially when he leaned closer to check your work, his glasses slipping down his nose just enough to make your heart race.

“You’re doing better,” he said, his tone genuinely impressed. “See? I told you it wasn’t hopeless.”

“Maybe it’s your teaching,” you replied without thinking, and then froze when his ears turned pink.

“Maybe,” he said softly, his gaze flicking to yours for just a moment before he cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s try this one.”

But as the session went on, you noticed it wasn’t just you who seemed distracted. Seokjin kept fiddling with his pen, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than usual. When he leaned closer to point something out, you thought you caught him glance at your lips before quickly looking back at the page.

By the time the session ended, your heart was pounding, and you weren’t sure if it was from the stats or something else entirely.

The next morning, an email from Seokjin had come in.

Hey, just a heads-up—I’m not going to campus today, but if you still want to meet, we can do the session at my place. Let me know if that works.

It had taken you all of five seconds to reply.

That’s fine, I really need this session. Text me the address.

And now here you were, standing outside Seokjin’s apartment with your notebook clutched to your chest and a slight flutter of nerves in your stomach.

You knocked twice, and within seconds, the door swung open.

“Hey,” Seokjin said, his usual soft smile in place. He was dressed in a simple hoodie and sweatpants, and somehow he looked even better like this—comfortable and casual, with his hair slightly tousled as if he’d just run his hands through it.

“Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let you in.

His apartment was small but cozy, with warm lighting, a neatly arranged bookshelf, and a faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. There was a laptop open on the coffee table and a few notebooks stacked beside it.

“You didn’t have to bring all your stuff,” he said, eyeing the books tucked under your arm.

“I didn’t know what to expect,” you admitted, setting your things down on the table. “But I’m not taking any chances with finals week coming up in a couple weeks.”

He chuckled, gesturing toward the couch. “Well, you’re in luck. I even made coffee. Or tea, if that’s more your thing.”

You sat down, trying not to notice how close he was when he joined you. The couch wasn’t exactly huge, and the way his knee brushed against yours when he shifted sent a jolt through you.

“Okay,” he said, pulling a notebook onto his lap. “Let’s start with the practice problems I sent you last week.”

At first, it was just like any other session—him explaining concepts, you trying to keep up. But the proximity was impossible to ignore. Every time he leaned over to point at your notebook or correct something, his voice seemed lower, softer, and his presence far too distracting.

“Almost,” Seokjin murmured, his hand brushing yours as he reached for your pencil. “You just forgot to divide by the total here.”

You froze, watching the way his fingers wrapped around the pencil. They were long and elegant, and when he looked up, his face was only inches from yours.

“Oh,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, the air between you felt heavier. You could see the faint pink on his ears again, the way his lashes fluttered just slightly when he blinked.

“Here,” he said, pulling back and clearing his throat. “Try it again.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to focus on the problem. But as the session went on, the tension only grew.

At one point, you leaned over to grab your eraser from the table, and when you straightened up, your shoulder brushed against his. It was such a small thing, but the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his hoodie lingered.

“Sorry,” you muttered, though you weren’t sure why.

“No, it’s fine,” he said quickly, his voice a little tighter than usual.

By the end of the session, you were both more relaxed—or at least pretending to be. The stack of practice problems had dwindled, and Seokjin leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms over his head with a groan.

“You’re actually getting good at this,” he said, his voice teasing but genuine. “See? Told you stats wasn’t impossible.”

“Only because you’re a good tutor,” you replied, surprising yourself with how easily the words came out.

Seokjin paused mid-stretch, his eyes meeting yours. There was something unreadable in his expression, but it disappeared quickly as he smiled.

“Thanks,” he said, sitting up again.

The conversation might’ve ended there, but then you noticed a small smudge of ink beside his cushiony lips—probably from when he’d been jotting down notes earlier.

“You’ve got…” You hesitated, gesturing vaguely at your own face. “Ink. Right there.”

“Where?” he asked, frowning as he touched his cheek, missing the spot entirely.

“Here,” you said, leaning forward without thinking. Your hand brushed against his jaw as you wiped at the smudge with your thumb, and you felt him go completely still under your touch.

When you realized what you were doing, you froze too, your eyes locking with his. His gaze flicked to your lips, and for a second, you thought he might close the distance between you.

“Got it,” you said quickly, pulling back and trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice lower than before.

The rest of the session ended in a flurry of awkward goodbyes and hurried packing, but as you left his apartment, you couldn’t shake the memory of how close you’d been—or the way his lips had looked in that moment, soft and impossibly inviting.

After the first session at Seokjin’s apartment, the two of you fell into a new rhythm. Instead of meeting at the library, you started alternating between your places. It was more convenient, and though neither of you said it out loud, it felt… comfortable. Familiar. Like a natural evolution of whatever this was between you.

For your next session, Seokjin arrived a few minutes early, balancing a bag of takeout in one hand and his ever-present notebook in the other.

“You didn’t have to bring food,” you said, stepping aside to let him in.

He shrugged, setting the bag on your coffee table. “Consider it payment for making me leave the house on a Saturday.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, sitting beside him on the couch. As the session began, you noticed how different it felt having him here, in your space. The way he looked so at ease, leaning back against your cushions, his long legs stretching out in front of him.

At one point, you got up to grab your water bottle, and when you came back, Seokjin had a mischievous grin on his face.

“Do you always study with a giant stuffed bear on your couch?” he teased, holding up the plushie you’d forgotten to hide.

Your face burned. “It’s comfortable, okay?”

“I’m not judging,” he said, his grin widening. “I’m just saying, you could’ve warned me I’d have competition.”

You groaned, grabbing the bear from him and tossing it aside. But the playful banter eased the tension, making the session feel more like hanging out than studying.

By the time you’d finished the practice problems, Seokjin stretched his arms over his head and let out a dramatic sigh.

“Okay, enough stats for one day. My brain is fried,” he declared.

“Yeah same,” you sighed before raising an eyebrow. “Is this how you treat all your students?”

“Only the ones who threaten to fail without me,” he shot back, smirking.

Your next session was set to be at your apartment again, with Seokjin arriving at your apartment looking as put-together as ever. You were already flustered—having barely managed to shove your laundry into a basket to make the place look semi-presentable.

"Don’t judge," you warned as he stepped in, glancing around your living room.

“I’m not,” he replied, amused. “I’ve seen worse.”

The session went smoothly enough, but at some point, Seokjin needed a pen.

"Do you have another one?" he asked, looking up from his notebook.

"Yeah, let me grab one!" you said, heading toward your desk.

Before you could, though, Seokjin leaned over the arm of the couch to grab your backpack—and froze, pulling out an article of clothing instead.

"Uh…" His voice trailed off as he held it up—a lacy, bright-colored bra that you’d obviously forgotten to hide.

You whipped around, horrified. “Oh my God, Seokjin, put that down!”

But instead of being embarrassed, he smirked, dangling the bra by one strap.

“Well,” he said, his tone teasing but his ears betraying him with a hint of redness, “I didn’t know tutoring came with such… unexpected discoveries.”

“Stop!” you yelped, lunging forward to snatch it from him.

He laughed, holding it just out of reach. “Is this what you’ve been distracted by during our sessions? Should I start dressing fancier to compete?”

“Seokjin, I swear—”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he relented, handing it back to you with a grin. But the way his eyes lingered on your flustered expression made your heart pound.

“Next time, I’m hiring a professional tutor,” you muttered, stuffing the bra into your laundry basket.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure you will.”

A couple days later, Seokjin had invited you over again, this time for a movie. Although, if you were being honest with yourself, the movie was probably the last thing on either of your minds.

"Okay, so you’re telling me you’ve never seen this movie?" Seokjin asked, holding up the DVD case like it was a sacred relic.

“Not everyone’s a walking encyclopedia of rom-coms,” you shot back, leaning back against the armrest of his couch.

“It’s not just a rom-com,” he argued, waving the case in front of you like it was the most important thing on the planet. “It’s a classic. You’ll thank me later.”

With a dramatic sigh, you gave in, letting him pop the DVD into the player. Soon enough, you were both nestled comfortably on his couch, a bowl of popcorn between you.

The movie started off fine enough, but as it went on, your attention started to wander. Seokjin’s proximity—the feeling of his body so close to yours, the way his arm rested casually along the back of the couch, his knee brushing against yours whenever he shifted—was far more distracting than the plot.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated his face, casting gentle shadows across his features, making him look even more attractive. His lips, soft and slightly parted as he laughed at some of the jokes, became the sole object of your focus.

"You’re quiet," he murmured during a lull in the movie, glancing at you sideways with a teasing look.

"Just… paying attention," you mumbled, not daring to look at him.

"Are you, though?" he teased, shifting slightly to face you. "Because you’ve been staring at me for the past ten minutes."

Your face immediately heated up. “I have not!”

“Hmm,” he hummed, clearly enjoying your reaction. His smirk widened as he leaned in just a little closer, his face filling your vision. “You sure about that? I wouldn’t mind.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you couldn’t help but look at his lips. His voice had dropped a few notches, and his gaze softened, no longer playful but searching—waiting for something unspoken. The noise of the movie faded as the tension in the air between you two thickened, heavy and palpable.

“Seokjin,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

“Yeah?” His voice was soft, but the way he looked at you—intent and steady—sent a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes darted to his lips for just a moment, and that was all it took. His playful smirk faded, and his expression shifted to something far more sincere, far more urgent. Slowly, his hand lifted, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face before lingering near your cheek, his touch light but warm.

Then, without a word, he closed the distance. His lips met yours in a kiss that started gentle, tentative, almost like a question. You froze for a split second, heart racing, but your body moved on instinct. Your hands gripped the front of his sweater, tugging him closer as the kiss deepened.

The movie continued in the background, but neither of you were paying attention anymore. Seokjin's hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips moving against yours with more urgency. You kissed him back, eager, your body instinctively pressing against his.

His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, then moved to your lips, caressing them softly before slipping back into the kiss. The sensation was intoxicating—electric. You could feel his heart racing against yours as his lips grew more demanding, his kisses coming faster, deeper.

The soft glow from the TV flickered across his features, making everything feel dreamlike, surreal, as if this moment wasn’t really happening. His hand slipped to your waist, pulling you toward him until your bodies were flush against each other. The heat of his chest, the firmness of his body, left you breathless as you melted into him.

Then, just as the kiss grew more heated, a dramatic swell of music from the movie blasted through the speakers, breaking the spell.

Seokjin pulled back slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, eyes dark with desire. He glanced toward the screen, looking a little amused before turning back to you.

“We won’t be needing this anymore,” he murmured, his voice low as he reached for the remote, never breaking eye contact. The click of the TV turning off was the only sound in the room now, the sudden silence making everything feel more intense.

Before you could even process what had just happened, Seokjin leaned in again, his lips crashing into yours with renewed fervor. His hands found their way to your back, pulling you even closer, if that was even possible. His lips were hotter now, more demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Your hands roamed up to his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt, before you slid your hands into his hair, tugging him closer. He groaned against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as the kiss deepened further, passion igniting between you. The sensation of his lips moving against yours—of his body pressing closer to yours—made your head spin.

You could feel his hands exploring your body, his fingertips brushing the curve of your side, making your breath hitch. His mouth never left yours, the kiss turning into something desperate, almost frantic, as if neither of you could wait any longer. Seokjin’s breath was shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you both lost yourselves in the kiss.

Your bodies were tangled in the soft cushions of the couch now, the world outside fading into oblivion. Every kiss, every touch, felt like an invitation to something more.

Seokjin finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice husky with desire, his thumb brushing along your jaw.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath. “I’m more than okay,” you whispered, your voice shaky but full of longing.

Seokjin’s eyes searched yours, his thumb still brushing along your jaw as if grounding himself in the moment. Just as you opened your mouth to say something, a glance at the clock over his shoulder made your heart drop.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, sitting up abruptly. “I have class in fifteen minutes!”

Seokjin blinked in surprise, then let out a soft laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not!” you exclaimed, frantically gathering your scattered belongings.

He leaned back against the couch, arms draped casually along the cushions, watching you with a grin that made your heart race all over again. “You sure you don’t want to skip? I mean, we were in the middle of something really important.”

You shot him a glare, though the heat in your cheeks probably made it far less intimidating. “Nice try, Seokjin. I can’t fail this class because of you.”

“Fair,” he conceded, standing to walk you to the door. But as you reached for the doorknob, he tugged you back, planting a quick, heated kiss on your lips that left you breathless. “Hurry back when you’re done,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

From that day on, a pattern emerged. Every time you came over—whether to study, watch a movie, or just hang out—the two of you would inevitably end up tangled together, lips locked and breaths mingling. It didn’t matter if it was before or after you hit the books; somehow, the boundaries between tutoring sessions and heated makeout sessions blurred until they were almost nonexistent.

It became your guilty pleasure, a secret routine that neither of you dared to acknowledge aloud. And then, finally, the day of the exam arrived.

You walked into the lecture hall with butterflies in your stomach and left with a grin you couldn’t contain. A 91! You had passed, and not just barely—you’d crushed it. The first thing you did after checking your grade was text Seokjin, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you told him the news.

His response was instant: Come over. We’re celebrating.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Within minutes, you were at his door, and before you could even step inside, Seokjin was pulling you into his arms, his lips crashing into yours.

“Congratulations,” he murmured against your lips, his voice warm and full of pride.

But there was no time for further words. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that sent sparks shooting down your spine. You barely registered the door closing behind you as the two of you stumbled into the apartment, too caught up in each other to care.

His hands roamed over your body with an urgency that made your heart race, slipping beneath your shirt to explore the bare skin underneath. You tugged at his hoodie, eager to feel more of him, and he obliged, pulling it off in one fluid motion before his lips found yours again.

This time, there was no stopping, no holding back. The couch cushions were a familiar backdrop as Seokjin pressed you down, his body warm and solid against yours. His kisses grew deeper as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his eyes flicking up to yours for permission. When you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, he didn’t hesitate.

With a swift motion, he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it onto the floor. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, lingering on the lacy bra you’d decided to wear that day.

“Well, well,” he murmured, his tone teasing as his fingers ghosted over the edge of the fabric. “You wore this? Almost like you were expecting to celebrate.” he teased, his fingers grazing the edge of your lacy bra. His smirk was back, though it softened as he leaned in, brushing his lips against your collarbone.

“Shut up,” you managed, breathless and flustered, though the way your hands gripped his shoulders betrayed your eagerness.

Your face burned, and you tried to turn away, but his hand cupped your chin, gently guiding your gaze back to him. His grin widened, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

“I wasn’t—” you started, but he cut you off with a laugh.

“Relax,” he said, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’m not complaining. In fact…” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I think it’s perfect.”

His mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his hands sliding up your sides as he explored every inch of you. When his lips finally returned to yours, the kiss was deeper, hungrier, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn’t get close enough.

Your hands found their way to his shirt, tugging at the fabric until he got the hint and pulled it off. You couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you even closer.

“Still think I’m the one who expected this?” you teased, emboldened by his reaction.

Seokjin paused, his lips hovering over yours as he chuckled, low and rich. “Oh, I definitely did. But I’m glad you were prepared too.”

With that, he captured your lips again, the playful banter melting away as the moment grew even more heated. The air between you was thick with desire, every touch, every kiss igniting a fire that neither of you wanted to put out.

As the kiss deepened, Seokjin's hands roamed over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist, the swell of your hips. Your own hands were just as busy, exploring the contours of his chest, the broadness of his shoulders.

The room around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment. The darkness was almost palpable, a living thing that wrapped itself around you, holding you close. You felt like you were drowning in Seokjin's eyes, those piercing brown orbs that seemed to see right through to your very soul.

And yet, even as you felt like you were losing yourself in him, you knew that this was exactly where you wanted to be. This was what you had been waiting for, what you had been hoping for all along.

Seokjin's lips left yours for a moment, and he gazed down at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "I want to see all of you," he whispered, his voice low and husky with desire. "I want to touch every inch of your skin."

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as he spoke, but you couldn't help the way your body responded to his words. You nodded slowly, and Seokjin's eyes flashed with excitement.

With gentle fingers, he reached behind you and unfastened the clasp on your bra. The straps slid down your arms, and Seokjin's eyes widened as he took in the sight of your bare skin. He reached out a hand and cupped one breast in his palm, his thumb tracing circles around the nipple until it hardened beneath his touch.

As Seokjin's hands continued to caress your breasts, his mouth descended upon them, his plump lips wrapping around one nipple with a gentle reverence. The softness and fullness of his lips were almost distracting, making you wonder how something so visually appealing could also feel so incredible. He kissed the nipple softly, his lips molding around it as he sucked gently.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his lips tracing circles around the nipple before wrapping around it again. The sensation was exquisite, and you felt yourself arching your back, pushing into his touch as he continued to kiss and suckle your breasts.

After lavishing attention on your breasts, Seokjin's mouth began to kiss down your stomach, his lips tracing a path of fire along your skin. With each kiss, you felt anticipation build within you. He teased you with each touch of his lips, getting closer and closer to the heat between your legs but never quite reaching it. The suspense was deliciously agonizing.

Finally, Seokjin returned to your lips, kissing them with a fervor that left you breathless. His tongue danced against yours as he deepened the kiss. He didn't stop there; his mouth wandered to your neck, leaving behind a trail of hickeys as he sucked and nibbled on the sensitive skin.

"Your lips are so fucking perfect," you whispered into his ear, running your fingers over their full shape in awe. "They feel as good as they look."

Seokjin chuckled low in his throat but didn't stop kissing and sucking on your neck. After a few moments of this sensual assault on your senses, he pulled back slightly and whispered against your earlobe.

"Enough of my lips; time to see what yours can do."

With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air between you like an unfinished challenge waiting for resolution - Seokjin stood up from where they had been sitting together on couch pulling both pants & boxers all way down letting them pool at feet before taking seat once more now fully exposed

You got onto your knees between his legs spread wide and proceeded to give him a blow job. You began by licking his quivering length, taking its head into your mouth. You started sucking gently, gradually increasing suction pressure and movement speed.

Your hand rose to begin stroking his shaft up and down while continuing to suck on it, your fingers wrapped tightly around base, moving in the opposite direction of your head bobbing. You made sure to pay special attention to the ridge just beneath where the head of his cock meets the shaft, knowing the extra sensitivity there.

As you continued to stroke and suck, Seokjin's eyes remained locked on yours, besides when he'd occasionally draw his head back in rawr pleasure. His hands rested on your head, gently guiding the pace but letting you set the rhythm. The sensation of his fingers in your hair, combined with the taste and feel of him in your mouth, was incredibly erotic.

You could feel his excitement building, his breathing getting heavier, and his muscles tensing under your touch. Encouraged by his reactions, you deepened the suction slightly, moving your head in a steady bobbing motion while your hand continued to stroke the base of his shaft.

Seokjin's moans filled the air, soft at first but growing louder as he neared climax. His hands tightened in your hair, not pulling but applying gentle pressure as if urging you on without wanting to disrupt the perfect rhythm you'd established.

Just as it seemed like he was about to come, Seokjin suddenly pulled back, his chest heaving with exertion. "Not yet," he whispered hoarsely, "I want to come inside you."

He gently helped you up from your knees and led you back to the couch. This time, as he sat down, he pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. The position was intimate and vulnerable at the same time.

With deft hands, Seokjin guided himself into you, filling a void that had been aching for fulfillment since this encounter began. As he entered deeper into you, your warmth enveloped around him fully. Everything else faded away, leaving only the sensations between two people completely lost within another.

The movement started slow but was soon quickened, as he grew more desperate. The two of you lost track of the time or your surroundings, solely existing in the moment of moving bodies seeking release.

As the movements became more rhythmic and intense, the connection between you and Seokjin deepened. Every thrust, every sensation, seemed to be amplified.

Your hands were on his shoulders, his around your waist, holding you close as you moved together. Seokjin's eyes locked onto yours, filled with raw desire. Yet, there was also a tenderness there, a care that made this feel like more than just a physical act. It was as if he was seeing into your very soul, and you into his.

The pace quickened, the intensity building until it felt like everything was going to shatter apart at any moment. But instead of fear or anxiety, there was only anticipation - a desperate longing for that release.

And then, in an instant that seemed to stretch out forever, it happened. Seokjin's body tensed beneath yours, his muscles hardening as he came inside you. The sensation triggered your own climax, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a stormy sea.

For what felt like an eternity, you just sat there, wrapped in each other's arms as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through your bodies. It wasn't until your breathing began to slow that reality started seeping back in - the feel of the couch beneath you, the sound of your heartbeats slowly synchronizing back into separate rhythms.

Seokjin's arms loosened their hold on you slightly but didn't let go. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed your forehead softly before whispering against your skin.

"Looks like all our hard work paid off. Congrats on passing, beautiful."

a/n: wahoo! feel free to leave feedback, hope you all enjoyed!

masterlist

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Homicipher

Mr.Scarletella x GN reader

Wrong locker

Part 4

Warning Mention of: Slightly suggestive content! It’s implied not outright stated, Stalking, drinking alcohol, creepy behavior

Recap from the last chapter - You both resided on different sides of the city. It's pouring too much. You made the decision to thug it out. White Day was just around the corner. “You are not okay. Do you want help?” What else is absent from your home? Before you departed, did you leave your sweater there? You were accomplishing a lot before you went, who knew! What else may disappear? Did your carpet have that red thread? You don't have many red outfits besides two shirts and perhaps a pair of shoes or two bottoms. You sense that something is wrong, but you're not sure what it is—perhaps it's simply been a hectic week! Perhaps you also failed to notice the piercing crimson eyes that were looking at you through your somewhat cracked open window.

Italic text = flashback

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.>>>>>.𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹<<<<<..~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What else may disappear? Did your carpet have that red thread? You don't have many red outfits besides two shirts and perhaps a pair of shoes or two bottoms. You sense that something is wrong, but you're not sure what it is—perhaps it's simply been a hectic week! Perhaps you also failed to notice the piercing crimson eyes that were looking at you through your somewhat cracked open window.

Following your every move with such intent and wonder.

His red eyes looked almost black due to the way his pupils expanded at just the sight of you. A warm tingle went from his head down through his spine. Making every fiber of his being yearn to get closer. Although it was a simple and messy home outfit in his eyes, you couldn't look any better.

The smell of you lingering on your recently thrown-away clothes, especially in your undergarments. mixed with your scent and watching you move around and do everyday tasks, deepening the pit of desire from his entire body. His wants winning the best of him, taking him slowly, pulling him into an almost religious experience, allowing himself to bask not only upon your scent but simply watching you.

His breath grew unsteady with each passing minute.

You are his muse.

The apple of his eye.

You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeare sonnet.

He gasped for air as if it was his first time breathing, holding your clothes over his face, not allowing any sound to escape him. He wants nothing more than for you to occupy his mind in such a high. His head spins in a fuzzy haze, mind, and body wanting nothing more than his very reason for breathing.

You.

Me desire you.

You like me. Me l̴̺̿i̵̞͆́k̷̪͂̐e̸̘̿̌ you.

Ẉ̷̭͑̚ȇ̴͓ ̵͈̲̆̆g̵̦̃͛͜o̶̤͘ ̴̗̟̆̏t̴̛͙͍̋õ̶̠̂g̴̭̘̉͒e̸͓͝͠ţ̴̮͂̔h̶̝̥̀e̵͕̓͑r̵͚̝̂.̶̗̰̄͝ ̷̡̫͌̓

..

.

.

You jam out to your favorite songs while getting your home together. Although yes, the apartment was old, and a lot of the stuff was broken, like the cooling system, it is still a home.

White Day was so close around the corner now, 3 days left.

What will you do if Mr. Crawling does confess? You love him so much, but he was your friend, nothing more, as the men in red stated.

Although the man in red himself wasn't too bad. He was tall, with dark, pretty, tired eyes, and very kind even after the way you treated him after the incident with Mr. Crawling by the lockers during the weekday. He got you your favorite drink as well. His hair framed his face nicely enough to see at least one eye at all times. He seemed to be smart as well, being in the student council team helping organize events and school trips.

He had pretty broad shoulders as well. He seemed to be well-built under his shirt and jacket.

The silent type can be so hot and mysterious!

Now you're stuck, what if they both like you?? What will be your response? You are just a normal person so that might not happen.

You took some time to also stretch mobility is important you know! Makes it easier to get comfy to in a weird position while going to sleep.

Today was a productive enough day, but what would make it better would be getting some takeout, maybe some pizza, Chinese food, or Olive Garden.

Chinese food was the closest to the apartment, as was the lady, who was always so sweet, plus she had a lot of things besides food. It was like a mini gas station.

You put on some pants and slip on a hoodie and jacket to stay warm from the cold rain. Some lip balm so your lips don’t get chapped from the cold weather.

You make sure to have your phone in your pocket, house keys, and wallet.

You quickly walk to the store. At the store, you bump into none other than the red man. Mr. Scarletella.

"Oh hey, I didn't know you came here."

You stated you are now getting a bit more comfortable with starting a conversation with the man. He seemed to be caught off guard by your presence at the small store.

"Hello Y/N, yes, I like to come here often to do more grocery shopping from time to time. What about you? What did you come to buy?"

You were basically standing in front of him with how small the shop was. You walked up to the counter near the menu.

"I'm just here for some takeout. It's been a long day, but I'm pretty happy, but what about you? What did you come here today for?"

How your eyes shined and how nice you looked made his heart flutter. He must stay composed.

"I am here to grab a couple of items for my fridge."

Not true. You always here after teird day. Me want you.

“Would you like some drinks on me for the takeout?”

“That would be nice! If you want, we can share takeout at my place!”

He leaned in closer to you. 

“That would be nice.”

You paid for the food. He paid for the drinks while helping you carry the food on your way back home. 

He took off his coat and left it on the hooks near the living room. 

“I see you came well prepared this time around.”

“Yup.”

You said you were kind of embarrassed about the whole situation.

You troubled. Not hurt. You like me.

It felt like all his attention was on you and only you, nothing more. You could feel him gaze on you at all times. 

You entered your apartment happy that you cleaned it earlier. 

You grabbed some plates and started sharing the food with him while he placed the cold beverages on the table. 

"Here is your plate, and this is mine." You placed his plate on the table and sat down next to him. 

"Thanks again for the drinks; that was really sweet of you."

He smiled a bit. "It's all good! It's always nice to drink after a long day."

He held out his bottle of sake as if waiting for something. You clinked your beer against his drink before you both started drinking. 

You ended up watching some reality TV with him while eating. It made it easier to sit in silence or talk through each bite. Once you both finished up, you took your plate and were about to take his to the sink before he gently stopped you by holding your wrist. 

"It's okay, I got it. Just show me where the kitchen is."

"No, no, you're okay. You're a guest in my house; you're all good."

He shook his head.

"No, you already bought the food, which costs more than the drinks. Let me help you clean up."

You thought about it for a bit; if he really wanted to help, he could, plus he offered to do so, so that wouldn't make you a bad host. You let go of his plate and allow him to take it. 

"Alright, the sink is right there."

You point past him, and he turns his head, looking at where you are pointing. Once he sees the sink, he nods, grabbing your plate and utensils along with his and making his way to the sink.

You grab the empty bottles and throw them away in the trash. 

Mr. Scarlettela rolled up his black sleeves to his forearms before turning on the water and starting to wash the dishes. 

He was very kind, or could it be he was still trying to show he was a good person?

“..' I will show you.'

He walked away.

He has done a lot so far, even out of that context, though. He could have let you struggle in the rain after being so stupid and running away like that from Mr. Crawling. He helped, though, as well as the current interaction offering to clean the plates and buy drinks.

"So what do you do outside of school? Because I know you must be busy being a student council."

He finished up washing the dishes.

"I like to read in my spare time. How about yourself?"

He started drying off his hands on the cloth that was on the side of the sink. 

"That's cool; me too!" 

Once he was done, he turned around to you with his sleeves still rolled up. 

"That's awesome! What kind of books do you read?" 

You froze in place; you can't tell the truth!

"Um, I like fictional and fantasy books." 

"Oh wow, that's really nice, too. What are your favorite series?"

"I like Crave by Tracy Wolff, or Legends & Lattes by, I believe, Travis Baldree is pretty good."

You're pretty sure those books were tame; it has been a long while, so you really don't remember. 

"Ahh, a romance novel enjoyer, I see! I too enjoy them; I really like Legends & Lattes. I haven't read Crave, but I'll check it out sometime!" 

The way you want the earth to swallow you whole at the moment was too real. 

You cracked open another beer and quickly got to sipping, hoping he would stop asking questions. 

You were low-key getting a bit tipsy, but what did you expect chugging down that much beer??

“Oh man, it’s already nighttime? But you live here; will you be good going home?” 

“Yes, I will be okay! Before I go, could I perhaps use your restroom really quickly?”

“Yeah, it’s down that hall next to the room.”

“Alright, thank you!”

You walked to your living room and continued watching the K-drama on screen, waiting for him to finish up.

After a while you started to wonder if he was okay or if he fell down the toilet because he was taking a long time.

While that exact thought came to mind, you heard his voice from behind you.

“Pretty good show. What’s the name of it again?”

You quickly twisted your neck to him.

“I thought you were still in the bathroom.”

“No, I finished a while ago but got caught up in the show.”

So he was there the whole time in silence, watching the show??

“Anyways, It is getting quite late; I better start going home. Thank you so much for inviting me over!” 

You put your drink down and got up. 

“Yuh, not a problem; it’s all good. Make sure you have your things!”

You stated as you walked him to the door of your apartment. 

“I think I have everything I feel like I’m missing something, but I’m not sure what. I have my keys, my wallet, and my jacket. It’s fine; let me know if you find anything of mine here!”

You open the door wide for him to leave.

“Alright, well, it was nice having you over as well. You have a good night!”

He walked out the door waving bye to you.

“Good night!”

You waved back before closing the door.

You turned off your TV and made sure all the lights were off. 

You walked to your bathroom and brushed your teeth before heading to bed and sleeping off the slight drunk.

-~*•🌙✨•*’z

His hands trembled over the empty tin can.

Fingers grazing over the opening before pressing his lips against the opening where your lips once were, leaving leftover lip balm. 

The best part of it all was he was able to hold your wrist! 

Today has been a good day, his mind clouding once again; however, he wouldn’t let his ends loose. He needs to make sure he was the only person who you’d say yes to during White Day. 

It was now in 2 days.

2 days is a lot of work to do a lot of preparation—only the best for his darling.

….

Zzzzzzzz

..☀️☁️

You woke up to your alarm blaring today; it was another day of school. You were pretty excited about it because White Day is coming up, and who doesn’t love White Day! Just two more days!

You got up, took a shower, brushed your teeth, and gathered all your items for school before walking out of the house.

The school gave out free food, and you’re already paying a lot of money to attend that college, so you’re going to make sure to take advantage of that!

The food might be alright, but it is still where your money is going towards! 

You step out the door before you get pushed to the floor, knocking the air out of you.

You then feel someone also land on top of you almost immediately after. 

Your vision went a little dark, but you quickly caught your breath. It honestly felt like the Minecraft scene when you take damage. 

The day is just starting, and you're already dealing with bullshit. Come on now. 

“Oh my god!I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Mr. Sacrletella. 

He quickly pulled himself off you and stood on his feet, reaching out a hand to help you up. You sat up slowly, low-key throwing him a dirty look.

“Are you okay?? I’m so sorry my alarm didn’t go off. I was supposed to have a meeting today!”

You reached out for his hand and took it. He pulled you up with ease. 

He looked at your head to make sure it was all okay. 

“I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry, here I can call us a ride to the school so we don’t both run late because of me.”

“Sounds like a fair offer.”

You both sat in silence waiting for the ride to arrive at the apartment. 

"So what time do your classes start?" 

"At around 10:30" 

"Oh, that's not bad at all!" 

"Yup."

Now you were going to miss the nasty food from the cafeteria that your money is paying for. 

"Did you eat breakfast yet?"

You shook your head, wanting to tell him you missed it because of this stupid bump in. 

His shoulders fell more, seeing almost as a look of defeat. 

"I'm really sorry. Let me buy you breakfast as an apology for everything."

"You don't have to do that, you know?" 

You were hoping he would insist because you were hungry and not trying to be greedy. 

"No, no, really, let me get you something to eat."

Always love some free food.

You hummed, and before you could start your sentence, the car pulled up. 

“Our ride is here; let’s go.”

You nodded, getting up and following. Mr. Scarletella

He opened the door for you to come into the car and closed it behind you.

You buckle up your seatbelt, and Mr. Scarletella hops into the car as well, putting on his seatbelt.

The drive was silent for a bit; the driver was an older woman. Her rugged voice broke the silence.

“So are you two a couple?”

You are confused and astonished by the question, before looking to the side where Mr. Scarletella was only to see him facing away from you.

“Uhm, no, we are not. I’m not sure if he does have a girlfriend, though!”

The old lady chuckled a little.

“I’m just asking; I thought you two were a couple!”

After having been in silence for so long, Mr. Scarletella took a glimpse of you to see your reaction, which was nothing more than confusion and nervous body language.

The rest of the ride to school was spent in silence. Nothing else but pure silence and embarrassment throughout it all.

You thanked the driver kindly before leaving the car and arriving at school.

Your stomach was starting to growl from hunger, so you looked over to Mr. Scarletella, who was right next to you, looking around the school entrance while the car pulled away.

"I promised you food." He looked down towards you smiling.

"Plus, I wouldn’t want to have you distracted by a grumbling stomach all class!"

You look away in shame and sadness at the comment, cheeks warming up a bit while he just chuckled to himself. 

"What would you like? Just let me know because I am hungry myself."

"I really like (fav food) from (fav fast food). We could possibly get something from there. I'm unsure if you like them."

"Oh, that's my favorite place as well!"

Me not known.

"Oh nice, let's go then before we need to get to class and you need to get to your meeting."

You both rushed to get there and ordered quickly. 

"Thank you so much for the food. Once again, you really didn't have to buy it for me."

That’s so sweet! He didn’t have to buy you food as you stated before, but you were happy and grateful that he did either way.

"It was no problem. Truly, I am very sorry for everything today. I hope you can forgive me."

"No, truly, it's okay. I really do appreciate the food very much, but you must get going; you have a meeting to be in, and I have a class I need to get to!"

He perked up almost as though he forgot even after the first reminder. 

"Yes, you are right, YN. I will see you around then!" 

"See ya!" You rushed to class as fast as you could, almost in a running manner.

"No running in the hallways!" He winked, chuckling at his own joke. 

You faked a laugh a bit before continuing on your merry way.

You rushed to class and made it before the teacher arrived so that you could get settled in. 

You sat next to Mr. Crawling and Mr. Chopped in class. He looks upset until he saw you walk through the door, causing him to smile and wave at you. 

You quickly sat down at your desk before you got bombarded by questions from both.

“What happened?"

"Are you okay?"

"Why are you late?”

You know Mr. Crawling doesn’t like Mr. Scarletella, so what could you say? But you can’t lie to your friend either! What to do? Hard choices in all reality, but you also don't want him to worry and think you don't trust his better judgment; a white lie will do. It's not really lying but just omitting certain facts.

"There was a bit of an incident, so I was running late for school."

Mr. Chopped seemed satisfied while Mr. Crawling seemed unsatisfied with that answer but took it nonetheless. 

Mr. Chopped had his hair braided with little clips here and there so his hair wasn't in the way but still looked cute.

"Well, thankfully it was nothing serious, and you are here in one piece!" 

Mr. Chopped stated while starting going on about what he did with Mr. Silver yesterday and how science class was really difficult. You turned over, nodded, and smiled. Mr. Chopped was really a talkative person, but you didn’t mind listening to his long discussion sessions about nothing sometimes.

In all honesty, you were glad he started talking because you did not know how to explain that you were basically hanging out in a car with the guy that Mr. Crawling absolutely does not want you to be around because he is dangerous. You knew Mr. Crawling would not like it whatsoever and would ask more questions, maybe even start following you to make sure you were okay.

In the middle of Mr. Chops's conversation, the teacher walks into the classroom surprisingly late; the class has now started. 

Time skip—

Once class was over, all three of you walked around to the yard; you still had your bag of food ready to eat. Yes, you took small bites of it throughout class, but you can’t just eat a full meal in class!

You settled down at a small circular table big enough for 3-4 people. So all 3 of you were facing each other; you can see behind them, but they couldn’t and vice versa. The boys pulled their food and started eating and joking and laughing and gossiping until their smiles faltered a bit, and then their smiles slowly turned into something different, each while staring behind you. 

Mr. Chopped seemed confused but relaxed, while Mr. Crawling seemed upset and worried. 

You sighed. Your suspicion was confirmed; they say Mr. Scarletella is approaching you all. Ironically, even though people were scared of him, he was still really popular with the girls and people who like boys. That was very confusing because the crowd was a mix of trying to talk to him and trying to get away from him. 

“Hello YN, Mr. Crawling, and Mr. Chopped. Do you mind if I sit with y'all?”

You shrugged; Mr. Chopped shook his head no, moving to the side so he could sit. While Mr. Crawling told him no.

To Mr. Crawling's dismay, Mr. Scarletella sat down at the table right between you and Mr. Chopped. 

Mr. Crawling sat even closer to you at the table, and so did Mr. Scarletella. 

You feel like you're in the middle of something between the two; you were basically shoulder to shoulder with them. 

This is some middle school drama-looking situation.

“So what made YOU want to sit HERE?”

Mr. Crawling grabbed your arm that was resting on your side before he grabbed onto it and leaned against you while Mr. Scarletella placed his hand over yours, pulling it to his lap. 

They kept fighting over who was sitting here and all other types of petty stuff. You felt like a rope in a tug of war over whatever they were arguing about, something you couldn’t understand. 

This felt like a shojo manga type of shit, like what!

You pull your arms away from them, which made both of them become silent. You stood up and walked towards Mr. Chopped and sat next to him. 

Both of them looked shocked and confused but then redirected that into anger towards each other. You looked at Mr. Chopped, who looked back at you.

“So, hm, you like grapes?”

He pushed his plate over to you, which you took like 2, so it wasn’t rude. 

You both stared in amusement at the fight between the two.

They both said something that they seemed to both agree on. This, however, prompted Mr. Chopped to start giggling and poking you. 

You in fact did not know what they were saying; you were cooked. You know you heard your name in there but not enough to know what is going on. What a shame.

Mr. Scarletella got up and walked over to you.

“Hey, I don’t think I got you a drink with the food. Want to go get you one?”

You shrugged your shoulders; you didn’t need a drink; it would be nice, though. 

“Hey YN, I actually brought you a drink here. I know it’s your favorite!”

Mr. Crawling pulled the can/pouch from his bag, holding it over towards you. 

“That’s warm, though I’m sure they would prefer a cold drink, isn’t that right?”

Mr. Scarletella stood over behind you while Mr. Crawling glared daggers at him. 

“I don’t really mind, but also I don’t want food to go to waste.”

You don’t know whether to go for the cold drink or the warm one that Mr. Crawling brought for you with much love. It was kind of chilly, so you decided to decline the cold beverage from Mr. Scarletella. 

“I think I’m good with this that Mr. Crawling has, plus you already did buy me food, and I don’t want you to be inconvenienced by that. I appreciate it, though!”

Mr. Crawling gave him a small, sly smirk while Mr. Scarletella hummed, glaring at him. Mr. Scarletella placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t inconvenience me with anything; I'm just trying to ensure you are eating well." 

"Thank you. I appreciate your concern as well as the fact that you got me this other food. Let's just all enjoy the food." 

You patted the seat next to you for him to sit rather than stand. He sat between you and Mr. Crawling; Mr. Crawling did not like it, but he did not protest your choices.

Lunch over~~

You waved them goodbye as they headed different ways to class, except Mr. Scarletella, 

"So you have a class upstairs as well?" 

You asked him if he seemed flustered by the fact you saw him going the same direction. 

"Yes, I do."

"So how did your meeting go? I know you said you were late to it this morning."

"Yes, my meeting went very well and was a great success. I managed to convince them to make a spring festival for the whole school."

"Ooh, that's pretty cool. Let me know how that goes and what stuff you will have, because it sounds fun! Well, this is my class right here. I'll see you in a bit."

"Will do! See you in a bit!"

~~~~

This was a free period for him as well; the student council tended to have meetings during this time. It wasn't a required meeting, so he decided to skip it. He tried to not make any sound, but it was hard not to using the hand that held yours. The privilege that he had to hold your hand out of all people. The air feeling short from his lungs with his other hand covering his mouth. His heart racing, nothing but mumbling your name as if you were a god to pray to. 

He continued with only you in mind.

~~~~

After 2 other classes and a boring lecture, you were free! You had nothing to do after school today, so you went to visit Mr. Crawling. He was part of the baking club, and he was really good at it too. You make your way over to the club room and see Mr.crawling working on some cookies it seems. He was so focused on placing the frosting on them he didn’t notice you standing in front of him.

“Hey, Mr. Crawling, what are you doing there?”

He flinched a little before quickly lifting his head up to see you. 

“Oh hey!”

He smiled at you before looking back down at the cookies he was decorating.

“I’m making some cookies. They have club day coming up soon, so here I am trying to see what cookies would look better. What do you think?”

He stepped to the side, letting you have a close look at all the designs he made. There were cookies that were decorated to look like a strawberry cake, others that were plain chocolate chip cookies, and others that just said, “Join the baking club!” On a plain background. 

They all look pretty cute, some simple, others very complex, but if they had to make many of them, the plain ones seemed to be the best choice. 

“Why don’t you do the plain cookies, and the bags you put them in when handing them out can have the baking club's logo on it?”

He thought about it for a second and nodded. 

“Yeah, that would be way easier but still pushing the club's name!”

You nodded, although you doubted he hadn’t thought about that yet; maybe he just wanted to make sure to leave a good impression. 

“Do you want one of them?”

He asked, pushing the finished cookies towards you; they were too pretty to eat! But Mr. Crawling's cooking is also so amazing that you can’t decline. Last time you did decline, he was hurt, thinking you disliked his cooking. He took pride in his cooking skills.

“I’ll take this one right here, thank you so much!”

You grabbed the cookie and took a bite out of it; you could see him perk up with pride in his work.

“Where is Mr. Chopped? He is usually here with you, isn’t he?”

Mr. Crawling shrugged.

“I’m not sure; maybe he is with Mr. Silvair! He said he wasn’t doing very well in science.

“Ahh, okay, thank you. Well, I will stop disturbing you and let you work in peace. Thank you again for the cookie; they are delicious as always! I will be back for more!”

You waved your hand at him while you started making your way out the door.

“Thank you! See you in a bit!”

You walked off on your way to find Mr. Silvair; you passed the nurse's office, where he usually was. He wasn’t there, so he must be in the biology room. You walked past the library and the similar redhead holding a book, sitting alone.

You peeked through the door slightly. Mr. Scarletella flinched a little but quickly turned over to see you.

“Hey, what are you doing here alone?”

He almost seemed embarrassed; he cleared his throat before he spoke up.

“Well, I am the president of the reading club, so I like to go over books and see what we should read next.”

You hummed in understanding. 

“That’s nice. I didn’t know we had that as a club.

He looked at you. 

“Yeah, we are a small, close club. You should come by sometime and join us for a book review.”

“Yeah, I should, so what are you reading?”

You pulled a chair nearby and sat next to him. He was a little taken aback by this action and quickly grabbed the book. 

“So I’m reading Crier's War, and it is a beautiful story so far. The book starts with humans making AI, but over time the AI that become human are called automae because they become sentient. These robots were made to be the perfect human beings. They then take over the humans, which starts their empire. It really is going over what your character says about you and being human. They talk about the corruption within. I love it so far, and I think my club will love this book.”

(This is an actual book, by the way, and it���s fire. It is a queer fiction book if you're into it or aren't into it.

You nodded; it did sound pretty cool. The duality and what makes someone truly human: is it their actions, or is it the fact that they are physically human?

“I will come by for your next book meeting, then let me know what day it is so I can be ready!”

He pulled a book out from his bag and handed it to you.

“This is the book we are reading. If you want, we can go over it and read it at your place.”

You took the book and nodded.

“Welp, I’ll see you around then!”

You got up and walked away to continue looking for Mr. Chopped! 

You made your merry way up to the 3rd floor to go to the biology lab.

You found him!

Mr. Chopped with Mr. Silvair, they seem to become friends. You knocked and walked right in. Mr.Silvair was the same age as you all he was a teachers assistant who took over cause he was just too good at what he dose.

So they get straight into biology lessons. How unfortunate or maybe fortunate?

Time skip is boring~~~~~

The sun was setting. 

You walk past the library once again and still see Mr. Scarletella in there. What was he still doing here??You walk into the library and make your way to him. 

“Hey, you okay? What are you still doing here?”

Now that you got closer, you could see he was falling asleep. He had a lot of paper on the table mixed with books. 

His head was in his arms; you did not notice until now, but his nails were painted red as well. Red seemed to be his favorite color, and it really did suit him well. You noticed deep eye bags under his eyes, suggesting he hasn't been sleeping well. You gently tapped his shoulder, which seemed to catch his attention. It was for sure time for him to go home. 

“You okay? Let’s get your stuff together so you can get sleep at home.”

You started grabbing papers, some more scribbled on than others, and had a list that seemed to be like a plan of sorts while you were gathering them together. You glanced at one paper, and it had your name on it. You tried to read a little bit of it. Mr. Scarletta snatched the papers from your hand quickly before you could get a better look. 

“It’s okay; I got it!”

He scrambled to get his items, shoving them into his bag.

“Alright, if you say so."

You awkwardly stepped away and watched him put all his belongings in his bag. 

"So, are you sure you don't need help? That's a lot of papers."

He shook his head, waving his hand, showing he's all good. Once he was done, he got up and pushed his chair in. 

"Okay, I am ready."

You nodded, feeling bad about not helping him while he seemed off or maybe just tired. So you made your way out of the library and down the stairs to get to the first floor; you peeked into the baking club room and couldn't find any signs of Mr. Crawling being there anymore. 

"What are you looking for?"

"Mr. Crawling, I saw him here earlier before I went to look for Mr. Chopped. He might have gone home already."

You pulled out your phone while walking to the exit of the school and quickly texted Mr. Crawling asking if he was home before putting your phone away. 

You didn't notice how the red eyes followed your every move and got a glimpse of other text messages shared between the two of you. 

"So you and Mr. Crawling are close?" 

You were surprised by that comment, so you just shrugged.

"I mean, he has helped me a lot, especially with getting used to the school when I first came here. I remember I was so lost and confused."

He nodded in understanding.

"Have you had an easy time adapting to the school then?"

"Yes, all thanks to him!"

"I'm glad to hear it was easy to adapt to the school environment."

You continued walking towards the apartment complex in silence.

You got there, and it was already very dark by the time you got home. 

The building was huge and had around 12 floors. You were lucky to get a bottom floor, but due to its age, there was no elevator in the building, so it would be a lengthy walk from here. Mr. Scarlettela was so sleepy that it seemed like he wasn't going to make it to the top floors. You have eaten with him before and got tipsy, and he didn't do anything. He was also really nice to other students and never got in trouble. He could take the guest's room that way, so he doesn't have to walk all 12 steps, and he looked so tired. 

"Hey Mr. Scarletella, what apartment do you live at?"

"on the 12th floor"

"You look tired. I have a guest room because it is a long way up there to your apartment." 

"It is okay; I can make it up there." He said between yawns.

You chuckled a little.

"No, it's okay. Come on, you can stay here. Come in; let me show you the room."

You took him to the guest room and let him get comfortable, only for him to fall asleep immediately after touching the bed. 

You closed his room and went into your room and made sure to lock your door before changing and going to sleep.

It should be okay to let him stay the night, right? He was a friend and never did anything weird to you so far; he was always kind, so it was okay!

Surely it was okay.

=================================================

Sorry it took so long I kept forgetting to save while writing so I had to keep rewriting things like 10x🗿. iuwegiugaweiyfy

Enjoyyyyy

Also, he was jerking off in the window part as well as when he was in the bathroom after not going to the meeting. I am unsure if it wasn't clear, but I just want you all to know. I would rather you know than continue, because then it will get weirder.

Previews chapter

[lightlycareless]

Do you think you could write a little something about Naoya jerking off to Y/N but they’re yet to be together or they haven’t had sex yet so it’s just pining and fantasy x1000000000. Like that almost pathetic type of yearning/lust that leaves him feeling embarrassed after he’s finished TEEHEE. Obviously you don’t have to write it since it is so…shamelessly horny lol but at least now you too can have that image of Naoya in your head >:3

Hello!!!

Pathetic Naoya is 100% in character; the type of guy to portray himself as all macho and such but the moment his loved one touches him he's nothing but a trembling, squirming mess.

Luckily, this prompt is a two-way one, meaning we'll get one with Y/N's pov hehe, but in the meantime let's do Naoya's 😏

warnings: smut. not really explicit, it's like all in naoya's mind. still, minors DNI. slight highschool au? it's very early in their relationship. naoya has an awakening lol.

The honeymoon stage in your relationship finishes quite quickly.

Not in the sense that Naoya’s adoration for you dwindles; no, of course not. If anything, it just grows stronger the more time he spends with you.

It’s more in the manner of the innocence behind the relationship; the early stages of such and how most of his desires dwelled in simply holding hands, embracing you, and above all, doting you with endless gifts just to see that adorable, flustered reaction of yours—and naturally, to make you happy.

But that all changes when you… well, provoked him. An unprecedented gush of summer breeze accidentally lifting your skirt and giving him a glimpse of your underwear, a cute white and pink heart patterned panty that remains imprinted in his mind for the rest of his day.

For the rest of the week. Till the dead of the night…

And if that wasn’t enough, to see you during training was—

Like some kind of precocious teenager, Naoya just needed one look at the way your breasts bounced whilst running to have him completely hypnotized; the sight constantly teasing him throughout the day, he couldn’t even talk properly without being a stammering mess! At one point he had to temporarily ignore you just to hold some decorum.

Especially given the way that refused to settle down, becoming even worse as days passed: your mere presence was now enough to rile him up. You didn’t have to do anything specific, by simply sensing you near, he stirred alive, and no cold shower was to ease him.

Soon, his last resort became his only solution, right after his arm “accidentally” brushed against your boobs, quickly heading back to the dorms once the school day was done to put an end to this whole…  problem.

Perhaps the only surprising thing out of this was how long it took him to act—succumb to his desires, so to speak—since Naoya’s never been one to shy away from doing what he wants, especially when it comes to his pleasure.

Already an expert at the matter, it didn’t take much for him to get in the right mood, just by following through with any of the scenarios that have been torturing his mind for the past few days would do the trick: but he’d still end up going with his favorite, the reason why all this spiraled out of hand in the first place.

Now that his little secret is out, Naoya will not deny that the thought of your breasts has crossed his mind a few times prior to this situation. From the cute, pastel colored bra he presumes to be matching with your panties—to the soft, warm skin underneath you diligently covered yet slyly teased him with whenever approaching you. It’s almost like you knew what you were doing! So close to his grasp, and yet—

It wasn’t of utmost importance for him to see them to tell they were perfect in every sense of the word; fitting perfectly in his hands for him to tease and enjoy; especially those sensitive, perky nipples, he would die to pinch and suckle, watching you squirm underneath his touch and yet, cannot keep away—not when he’s keeping you in place.

“They’re soft, princess.” He’d murmur, latching his lips onto your buds and gently biting it, making you moan in return. “Sweet too, probably ‘cause of all those mochi you eat.”

“Na—Naoya! Don’t say that!” you blush, and he simply smiles, relishing your taste.

But ultimately nothing compared to your cunt, the precious mound he cannot wait to claim, taste, see—though it’s already a given of his ownership.

He daydreams of the moment he’ll be able to make you his, imagining how he’d place you over his bed, with you shyly yet dutifully keeping your legs open and giving the shrew sight of your pussy for his sole eyes to admire.

Naoya’s breath would hitch soon after placing his fingers besides your lips and spreading your slit open, unable to look away as he zealously takes in everything: from its enticing color to subtle twitches, and of course, soft whines whenever he’d so much as breathe onto your sensitive clit…

He’s unable to stop himself from placing his tongue at the bottom and take one long stride along your cunt, enjoying your deliriously saccharine slick and the suffocating pressure of your soft thighs instinctively clamping around his head.

And after Naoya’s had his fair share of teasing you, it was time for the main course.

If your walls were already agonizingly tight in his fingers and tongue, it was only exhilarating to imagine how it would feel with his cock buried deep within you—he’d probably die when doing so!

Ah, to spend his last moments of life enjoy the burning, gooey feeling of your walls holding on so strongly onto his cock, as if the briefest moment of emptiness were pure agony, would be a nice way to go; but of course, Naoya doesn’t intend for his life to end right then and there, not when there were many, many more things he’d like to explore beforehand with you.

Such as his eventual release, his deepest desire demanding to claim his rights over you by painting your walls white with his thick, burning seed; to do so as many times necessary until your cunt was shaped as his cock, rendering your pleasure useless unless with him. As it should always be. Will be.

Obviously, he’s quite aware of the risks this act conveys—presenting problems either are too young to even consider—but never too ignorant for a solution: your face is a very suitable option too.

Which you’d gladly take as well, your beautiful, flushed face looking up to him as you eagerly squirmed and pressed your legs together, eyes tight shut but mouth wide open while presenting your tongue, a look that wantonly urged him to finish quickly, reward you for being such a good girl, before going ahead and doing it all over again.

Surely there’s no way he’d think you were actually satisfied with that one time, right?

“Naoya…”

His hand tightens around his shaft, fervently moving up and down as you then look at him with those pretty eyes of yours that always made his heart skip a bit—but now, filled with lust, just made his cock grow even harder.

“C’mon Naoya, gimme your cum!” you’d cry, desperate for his precious seed no one else but you deserves. A privilege only the love of his life could have. “I want it, baby, please!”

“Y—Y/N!” he breathes, his grip stronger, his conviction angrier.

“I need you…”

“Fuck!”

The mess he ends up doing that night is one that makes him elated for having chosen the bathroom to takeout this activity, far bigger than any he has done with other women as center of his desires, but as expected for the first time touching himself at the thought of you.

And yet, even when he’s got an immediate issue to worry about, whether cleaning up or coming down from his orgasmic high, all that he could feel was the shame his release left him ruminating on, his mind disgracefully admitting he had tainted your innocence, the loving, perfect image he had of you with his own perversions—all because his inability to keep his impulses on check, take things slow as you were undoubtedly hoping he’d do.

Because why would you avoid anything remotely similar to the subject, if your heart wasn’t far away from this travesty?

Those around him were right to think he was undeserving of your love, of your patience. Naoya was nothing more than a monster, slave to his own filthy desires, it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to them and tried to pull you along.

However, even with all that burdening turmoil, that didn’t stop him from seeking his release yet again soon after, and again, and again, and again… Naoya lost count of how many times it took him to finally calm down, completely unaware of time as he eventually grew tired, cleaned up, and headed to bed with intentions of placing order back in his mind.

You deserved better, is what Naoya said to himself as he eventually yielded to slumber, a good man.

But oh, if he only knew you had done the same too.

Let's not forget that while Naoya is a huge pervert by himself, Y/N is too lol. Usually the one to have all these kinks that has Naoya thinking "oh wow I never knew you could do that but YES let's try it out."

Perfect for each other, as it should always be.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this small piece of a pathetic Naoya 😏 while I initially just intended to write this it also inspired me to do something for Y/N so be on the lookout for that 🤭

Thank you so much for sending in this ask 🥺❤️ and for your patience as well ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!!

[noona-clock]

Heart of the Ranch - Part 5

Genre: Cowboy!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff

Pairing: Namjoon x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 | Words: 3,147

You and your friends, whom you had deemed the Official Marketing Team of BTS Ranch, spent most of the day doing what friend-cations were truly for: having fun together. Sure, you weren't exactly relaxing, but still! You weren't sitting in your office doing your usual accounting work, so that definitely counted for something.

You sat with Rachel as she created profiles for Namjoon (and the ranch) on multiple platforms, tagging along as she scurried around to take pictures of the house, the gorgeous scenery, and -- of course -- the owner, himself.

You hovered behind Trish at the front desk as she reimagined the website. She hadn't asked for your help, but you offered it anyway! If she could tell you to go on vacation, the least you could do was tell her how the website should look.

You exchanged ideas and giggles with Emily about what kind of content to post, and you stuck by her side as she followed Namjoon around to film a 'Day in the Life' type video. It was such a chore. I mean, watching Namjoon work outside and hearing his deep, smooth yet raspy voice explain what he was doing? Who'd want to do that?

(Just kidding -- obviously. The whole reason Emily was filming him doing this was because you both knew thousands, if not millions, of people on the internet would want to watch it!)

By the time dinner rolled around, Rachel had posted pictures and status updates on most of the profiles she'd created, Trish had nearly finished a complete overhaul of the website, and Emily had edited the footage of Namjoon into a fun, interesting video (that was also a subtle thirst trap, of course. How could it not be?).

As the four of you sat around the table, it was all you could talk about. Your plates sat largely untouched as you all scrolled and clicked through your phones in admiration.

"Hey, come on, now," Namjoon scolded as he entered the dining room carrying a basket of freshly baked rolls. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to look at your phones at the dinner table?"

"We're simply appreciating all the hard work we've done today!" Rachel rebutted, though all four of you did set your phones face-down next to your plates.

"Yeah," Emily agreed as she reached for one of the rolls after Namjoon set the basket down on the table. "The hard work we did for your ranch."

Namjoon winced and rested a hand on the back of your chair. "Okay, I deserve that. Guilt trip accomplished."

You rolled your eyes in amusement, ignoring the way your stomach jumped as your shoulder brushed against his hand.

"Let me know if you guys need anything else," he chuckled. "Dinner-wise. I think I'm done with social media for the day."

Emily quickly picked her phone back up and held it out toward him. "But wait, don't you want to see the comments on your video?"

"Absolutely not," he answered immediately, taking a few steps away from the table. "The comments are none of my business."

"But they're all positive!" she assured him.

"Can we at least reply to them?" Trish asked.

"Be my guest," Namjoon nodded. "But I've lived this long without reading comments, I can go another day or two."

He turned to leave the dining room, but before he did, he discreetly slipped a piece of paper under your placemat.

It turns out he hadn't been as discreet as he thought, though, because as soon as the door into the kitchen swung closed behind him, Rachel leaned over to you and whispered, "What does the note say?!"

Emily and Trish leaned in, too, and you slid the paper out as silently as you could. You pressed your index finger to your lips, signaling to your friends to stay quiet before reading the message out loud (but softly, of course): Meet me outside in an hour.

Emily pressed her lips together to contain a squeal, and Rachel and Trish both reached for your arm to squeeze it with excitement.

There were many positive things you could say about your lovely friends, but the one thing in the forefront of your mind right now was just how supportive they were.

Without another word, you folded the paper up into a tiny square and poked it into the pocket of your jeans.

"How many views are we at, Em?" you asked, raising your voice louder than normal to make sure Namjoon heard you were talking about social media -- not his note.

In your head, though, you were already counting down the minutes.

It hadn't quite been an hour yet, but you couldn't wait any longer. You'd freshened up after dinner, and there was only so much freshening up you could do without just changing into a whole new outfit and washing your hair, y'know? And you figured that if Namjoon wasn't out there yet, he would be soon enough, and there was plenty around the ranch to keep you occupied.

But you really weren't surprised to walk out of the front door and see Namjoon sweeping the stone path connecting the driveway and the porch.

"Are you ever not working?" you asked, immediately realizing how laughable that question was coming from you.

Namjoon paused to look up at you, and a smile flashed across his lips for a few moments -- though it was just long enough for his dimples to make an appearance. Your heart thrummed in response.

"Yes," he replied as he continued sweeping. "I don't work for about six to seven hours every night when I'm asleep."

You hopped down the porch steps, approaching him and reaching out to take the broom from him. You weren't well-versed in many of the tasks it takes to run a ranch, but you could definitely sweep.

"Six to seven doesn't cut it," you admonished as you pushed some stray dirt clods over into the lawn. "You should really be getting at least eight hours of sleep a night."

Namjoon let out a soft chuckle. You didn't realize just how close you were standing to him, but you felt the light touch of his laugh on your cheek.

"If I'm going to take rest and relaxation advice from anyone, it's not going to be you," he murmured.

Now it was your turn to pause and look up at him. You wrinkled your forehead at him and said after a moment, "You know what? You're so valid for that."

Namjoon laughed gently, reaching out and taking the broom from you, his fingers grazing over yours. "Anyway, I didn't ask you to come out here so you can do chores."

Your eyes followed him as he leaned the broom against the porch railing, and you said, "Then why did you ask me to come out here? Did you want to film another video for social media?"

You were teasing him, of course. Being out here in the twilight, just the two of you? Social media was the last thing you wanted to do.

But, unsurprisingly, you had just wanted to see his dimples.

Honestly, you should be concerned with your obsession with Namjoon's dimples, but your teasing question had accomplished your goal -- his dimples were on full display -- and you were too enamored to care.

"No," he grinned. "I wanted to show you something."

Your eyebrows climbed up your forehead. "Is that so?"

Namjoon nodded and nodded his head toward the gazebo. "This way," he murmured.

Of course, your instincts were tugging at you to ask him where he was taking you. But something stopped you. Something else in you overtook your instincts and told you to simply follow him, to wait and see.

Maybe it was the fact that the ranch was so peaceful, especially as the sun was almost done setting. Maybe (hopefully) the peace was contagious.

As the two of you were approaching the gazebo, Namjoon slowed and said, "I figured... since you're helping me with the ranch and everything... I could help you, too."

"Help me? With what?" you asked, preparing to step into the gazebo.

But Namjoon continued walking, leading you past the gazebo out into a large grassy area.

"Help you actually have a real vacation," he explained. "Help you take a moment for yourself and just... relax."

You opened your mouth to retort that he was just as bad as you when it came to relaxing -- maybe even worse since he probably didn't even take weekends off.

"I know," he interrupted before you even said anything, though. "I don't know how to relax either, so I am being just a little selfish. I'm helping you relax and also helping myself in the process. But this is the best I could come up with, okay?"

"Okay," you chuckled, nodding once to show you understood and accepted it.

"Just up here," he murmured as he gestured up to an area of the meadow that was free from trees. You spotted what could only be a blanket laid out on the grass, and your brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

It couldn't be a picnic because you'd just eaten dinner, and there was also no picnic basket. There was nothing else, actually -- just the blanket.

"This," Namjoon began as the two of you approached the blanket. "Is the best spot in the whole ranch for stargazing."

Stargazing!

"No trees to block the view, and the animals don't come out this way --"

"So, no poop," you finished.

"Exactly."

You weren't going to lie: you were just the tiniest bit wary. Seeing as you spent the majority of your time either in your office or in your apartment, it was pretty safe to say you weren't exactly one with nature. But the fact that Namjoon had 1. come up with this plan in the first place and 2. thought to specifically mention there was no chance of encountering cow poop warmed your heart enough to give it a try.

Namjoon held his hand out to help you onto the blanket, and as you crouched down, ignoring the exhilarating feeling of his fingers grasping yours, you warned, "I am not what you would call well-versed in astronomy."

"Don't worry, I've spent enough time out here at night to know a thing or two," he assured you, letting out a quiet groan as he took the spot next to you. And once the two of you had laid down on your backs, he added, "And if there's something I don't know, there's this handy little thing called a smartphone that has all the answers."

You simply chuckled in response as you clasped your hands together on your stomach, crossing your ankles and lifting your gaze skyward.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Oh my god," you gasped. "There are so many. And they're so bright!"

"The benefit of living in the middle of nowhere," Namjoon pointed out.

After taking in as much as you could, you lifted the arm closest to Namjoon and pointed up to three stars in a row. "I know that's Orion, and that's about it," you chuckled.

"Yep," Namjoon confirmed, tilting his head ever so slightly closer to yours. "Orion the Hunter. Those three stars are his belt."

"Where's the rest of him?"

Namjoon lifted his own arm, mapping out a somewhat large circle with his finger. "Right there," he murmured. "See, that's one arm he's lifting up, and there's the other arm with his shield. And then his legs are those two stars down there."

"Ahhhh," you remarked, not wanting to admit you were completely unable to visualize what he'd just pointed out to you. "What else?"

"Well, right up above Orion is Taurus," he said, moving his hand to point out the area above where his shield supposedly was.

"That's a bull, right?" you asked. And when Namjoon hummed positively, you grinned and said "Trish always sends zodiac stuff to the group chat, so I've gotten pretty good at it over the years."

"Gemini is right on the other side there," he told you as he circled the area next to Orion's other (alleged) arm.

"The twins!"

Namjoon chuckled before moving his finger to point at a star nearby that was just a bit brighter than the others. "And that is Mercury."

Your brow furrowed, and you turned your head slightly to glance at him out of the corner of your eye. "Mercury, like the planet?"

"The very one."

You gasped in amazement. "We can see a planet?!"

"Yeah," he answered, grinning. You couldn't see him well enough right now, but you could just tell he was grinning. "We can see all of the planets in the sky, just not all at the same time."

"Wow... I knew there was a lot I didn't know about space, but how did I not know we could see the planets in the sky?"

"You live in a city, right?" Namjoon asked as he set his arm back down beside him.

You nodded and hummed positively.

"You can barely see Orion in a city," he pointed out with a shrug. "How can you know it's a planet if you can't see it?"

"Very true," you sighed. "You don't know what you don't know and all that."

As the minutes ticked by, you learned just how much you didn't know about the stars and the solar system and outer space and the universe -- and how much Namjoon did know. For someone who seemingly had no time to read or do anything but work, the guy was kind of a genius.

Your conversation eventually turned from constellations to the philosophical side of space, and while you should've been sent spinning into an existential crisis at the thought of just how remarkably, incomprehensibly vast the universe was, Namjoon was somehow able to keep you grounded here on Earth. He discussed things passionately but was still level-headed, and that helped to stop you from falling down the rabbit hole.

But then you somehow got onto the topic of current events on your own planet. Somewhat surprisingly, you found that you and Namjoon had very similar values -- not that you thought he was dumb or a bad person. Quite the opposite, actually, especially after tonight. But the two of you led very different lives. It was just very refreshing to find out you weren't as sheltered by city life as maybe you thought you were.

It seemed like Namjoon was just as surprised as you were, though.

"I'm an accountant," you reminded him. "I know finances like the back of my hand, and I understand how corporations work. Of course I don't believe in ethical billionaires."

"I won't lie, I figured you being an accountant would mean the opposite."

"Like I'm obsessed with money?" you chuckled.

"Yeah," he admitted with some guilt in his voice.

"Oh, no, you're not wrong. A lot of accountants are obsessed with money. But some of us -- the good ones -- are just obsessed with numbers and helping people."

He didn't answer immediately, so you turned your head to look at him as the two of you still laid side-by-side on the blanket.

"That... makes a lot of sense, actually. I guess I just never thought about it that way," he told you.

A grin curved your lips, and you said, "So, we're both learning new things tonight, I guess."

"I guess," he chuckled. "But, wow, did we get off-topic."

"You're so right. We were supposed to be relaxing," you grimaced.

Namjoon lifted an arm to check his watch quickly and said, "We still have a little bit of time. How about we just stargaze for two minutes in total silence and then call it a night?"

"Deal."

You yet again rested your hands on top of your stomach, crossed your ankles, and focused your gaze above you.

And you... well, you looked. You looked at the stars. You admired the beauty of the sky. You acknowledged your breathing and tried to keep it steady and deep.

And when you finally couldn't stand it any longer, you whispered, "Has it been two minutes yet?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Namjoon look at his watch again.

"...It's been thirty seconds," he whispered back.

You let out a dispirited sigh, but then the corners of your mouth lifted up when you heard Namjoon laughing under his breath.

"What's so funny?" you teased.

"You can't even relax for thirty seconds!" he replied through his laughter.

"Oh, I'm glad you think it's amusing. Tell that to my blood pressure!"

Namjoon stopped laughing abruptly and lifted himself up onto one elbow. "Wait, are you okay?"

Well, actually, no. You were not okay right now because the look on Namjoon's face showed his concern clear as day -- even though it was nighttime. And that made your heart skip about five beats.

"I was joking," you assured him, hoping you'd hidden your breathlessness well enough. "I mean, we're all dying little by little each day, but that's a conversation for another stargazing session."

Namjoon laid back down and blew out an exhale. "One minute," he breathed. "One more minute, and then we can go inside."

"I make no promises, but I'll try," you answered with a smirk.

And even though it felt like it took an eternity, you did it. You were able to lay there in silence for one full minute -- it helped that you closed your eyes.

Honestly, you might have fallen asleep if Namjoon hadn't sat up and said, "Huh.... those clouds don't look friendly."

Your forehead wrinkled, and when you opened your eyes, you almost jumped when you didn't see a singular star in the sky. How had that happened so quickly?

When you sat up, as well, you also realized the wind was starting to pick up.

"Seems like a storm's coming," Namjoon murmured. "You go ahead inside, I'm going to make sure all the animals are in for the night."

Your instinct was to offer to help him, but honestly, if you spent any more time alone with him tonight... you didn't actually want to think about what might happen. Or what you might want to happen.

So, you stood and prepared to head back inside.

The only problem was, with the clouds covering the stars and the moon, it was now almost fully pitch black, and you had no idea how to get back to the house.

"Here," Namjoon murmured, his voice suddenly right next to your ear. "I'll take you back."

Before you could reply, you felt his hand circling your forearm... and then sliding down until his fingers grasped yours.

Oh great.

As Namjoon held your hand in the dark, leading you back to the house with softly mumbled directions, you were definitely thinking about what you wanted to happen.

This was not good.

(...Or was it?)

[duskdog]

I've been approaching the riddles with the thought that Eddie is actually answering Steph's questions. I've considered each one in response to the question directly preceding it. 1. "The gift that keeps on taking. The theft that keeps on giving" is in response to "What did he say about me?"

I generally agree with something of a combination of what's been proposed before. The gift that keeps on taking is traditionally the White Elephant, a gift that causes more trouble than it's worth, and I think it's likely -- given what we know of Arthur and how he reacts to failure/being beaten (he goes on angry rants!) -- that he may have reacted the same to Steph getting in his way. Here's his child, something that's supposed to bring him joy, and all she does is fuck him over.

(He may even be, vaguely, remembering a time when she did bring him joy, maybe when she was a new baby, and it just makes him all the more bitter now. I don't know if we can fairly say that he actually cared about her even then, but I'd like to think there was a time when he and Crystal lived a semi-normal life? I'm sure it was never a healthy relationship, but they got married -- clearly once upon a time they had feelings for each other, and hopes and dreams and stuff. Maybe Arthur was happy to hold his new baby. And now look at what a pain in the ass she is.)

Regardless, something that's supposed to be seen as a blessing has been nothing but a curse -- and I could definitely see Arthur going on more than one angry rant about it to Eddie. (Last we saw him and Eddie together, after all, they were getting thrown out of the house, and it doesn't take a genius to realize that the only reason Black Canary would know they were there, or care, would be because of Steph.)

2. The bug riddle is in response to "why do you believe he had to leave clues to his crimes?".

First I have to preface this by saying that this is a weird question for Steph to ask, because as was pointed out, Arthur hasn't been leaving clues for a long time by this point. Still, it may be something that bothered Steph a lot when she was younger, and maybe still bothers her? I'm one of those folks who believes Arthur was suffering from OCD (which is never outright stated, but I believe is implied when he talks about how he was "cured" of his need to leave clues -- at the very least, this makes me think that it was psychological in some fashion, and some flavor of OCD best fits the bill, so he may have begun taking some sort of medication?), which does have a genetic component, but we've never seen any indication that Steph would be worried about anything like that, or that the thought has even ever crossed her mind, so I don't think that's a factor.

So why does it matter? I think it's just that Steph is just trying to understand her father. She's just recently found out that he's dead, and now she has all these unresolved questions, and unresolved feelings, and him leaving clues was a core part of his original costumed persona. He never changed his name from Cluemaster, either, even after he stopped leaving clues. I think the question is still important to Steph, because the clue thing had been a big part of who Arthur was, and "who Arthur was" is exactly what she's trying to resolve right now.

I think, with this riddle, Eddie may have cut straight to the heart of the matter that I just discussed -- this seemingly no-longer-relevant question that's still clearly very important to Steph even so. Digging up Arthur's metaphorical bones here makes her the bug... but which bug? Is she going to let these questions, these feelings, trap her in someone else's web -- is she going to get tangled up in the man Arthur was, in his mistakes, and let that devour her? Or is she going to cocoon in her own web instead, nurturing herself through this in a more healthy manner, and emerge better for it?

3. "Dog in a manger" is in response to "Did he ever talk about someone who hurt me? Someone named Murray?"

This one is... complicated.

To understand, it's important to note that this saying has a long, long history, and variations of it have been used in several different contexts throughout that time. At its core, it's exactly as described above -- someone who selfishly hoards something it doesn't need/can't use so that others cannot have it. But there are a lot of different shades of that thought. In one of its earliest references, it was specifically used as a commentary on pederasty -- the practice of sexual activity between a grown man and a boy/youth. And there are multiple instances later on where it's used in a similar (if less pedophiliac) fashion to comment on May/December romances -- the idea is that, when an older lover takes a much younger one, they're "wasting" the younger lover's beauty and vigor, which they can no longer hope to match themselves.

Jim Murray, a grown man, lusted after Steph, who was only 11. I don't think Eddie is trying to play games with this one, or analyze anything. I think he's just straight-up (as straight-up as the Riddler can get) answering the question. He's saying "ah yes, that guy who did that", which clearly indicates that Arthur did mention Murray.

He may also be subtly casting judgment on that, since he chose a reference that generally condemns such a thing, but it's hard to say.

4. "What day has no man lived to see?" is in response to "Do you think he wanted to give up crime?"

The actual traditional answer to this riddle is "tomorrow". No man lives to see tomorrow, because when it arrives, it immediately becomes "today".

I think this one is just really simple, and really sad. He's saying that we'll never really know. Steph herself is struggling with the idea that any possibility of her father ever changing his ways is now gone. All potential destroyed in death.

What could have, and maybe would have, happened "tomorrow" is beyond any of them. Maybe Arthur did want to give up crime, or maybe he didn't -- it doesn't matter, because he didn't live to see that day.

I think that's the answer that's most likely. However, he also might be trying to say that Arthur did want to give it up, but just didn't live to see the day when he would, if you also interpret the next riddle a certain way...

5. "The tiger envies the oxen but only understands its horns" in response to "Did he want to stop?".

Going out on a limb with this one, but given the question I think he's answering: the oxen lives peacefully on the farm, working hard but without strife or worry. The tiger envies this peaceful life, but as a creature of violence, all it understands is violence.

Eddie may be saying that Arthur did want to stop... at least on some level. Maybe a part of him did want that more peaceful life, without all the stresses associated with the life they lead as criminals.

But he would probably never achieve that, because crime/violence is all he understands.

I think, however, it's far more likely that Eddie is just following up on the previous answer, and not implying anything about what Arthur actually did or did not want to do. It doesn't really matter what Arthur wanted -- it never had a chance to happen, and frankly, it probably wasn't ever going to anyway. Because Arthur really only understands one way to be.

6. "The number you can't count on your fingers" doesn't have an associated question at all, but it's directly in response to "One straight answer and I'll leave."

Eddie struggles here before giving his riddle, and the impression I get is that it's not just because Steph has gotten violent with him at this point. What I can't decide is why he would find it difficult to continue, when he's been rapid-firing riddle responses for the entire conversation. Maybe it is just because Steph's about to beat the shit out of him and he knows it, but... I don't know. It doesn't feel that way.

As for the riddle... it doesn't really have a good traditional answer. I've seen reference to it being "11" (which is mildly interesting because that's how old Steph was when Jim Murray tried to assault her), but that doesn't actually make any sense to me -- there are tons of numbers you can't count on your fingers, not just one (or, alternately, you can count even more than that if you think beyond just counting by ones).

I think @armed-with-a-waffle-iron is probably correct here -- Eddie thinks Steph is missing the point. What she's looking for is something that can't be quantified. There are no answers. The way I interpret the previous two riddles, this one would follow naturally: none of what Steph is asking about matters. She's not going to find what she's looking for here, at the very least.

The part that throws me for a loop, actually, is the Riddler's words after Steph leaves. Steph having a question mark over her head is a pretty obvious thing to say, but why is he speculating about Arthur's "game"? It seems to imply that he thinks/knows that Arthur is alive... but even if that were true, why would he assume the man's grief-stricken daughter was part of any sort of plan?

I don't think they actually ever follow up on this, so I guess we'll never really know.

I'm gonna have a go at the riddles which The Riddler throws at Stephanie Brown in Robin (1993) #113. @a-bad-case-of-the-stephs I'm hoping you can help me out, haven't actually read Robin in well over a year.

It's a gift that keeps on taking. It's a theft that keeps on giving. Having a child is the "gift" and when Arthur was imprisoned or estranged, his child was "stolen" from him. When Stephanie came into Arthur's life, he saw her as a "white elephant", but when he no longer had her, he became driven by the idea of her.

One bug is wrapped in a web, therein to die. Another bug is wrapped in its own web, there to be reborn. In a sense, being tangled in a web can be fatal but it can also indicate introspection and growth. Arthur's obsession with leaving clues were often his undoing so will Stephanie preoccupation with her father be her's or will it actually represent reflection and change?

There is a dog in the manger, but it cannot subsist on hay. A manger is a feeder for livestock, typically holding hay; which dogs do not eat. A "dog in a manger" is a person who spitefully refuses to let someone else benefit from (or let go of) something for which he or she has no personal use (dictionary.com). But dogs cannot subsist on hay and the livestock cannot eat with the dog in the manger. If the dog doesn't relent or change, then everyone loses. Stephanie is the dog and her memory of her father is the manger she cannot let go of.

What day of the week has no man ever lived to see? Judgement day. You have to be dead to see it. And they're both very much alive.

The Tiger envies the Oxen but only understands its horns. The Tiger envies the Oxen's power but it only understands power through the language of violence. Steph easily outmatches The Riddler in a fight yet is confused how he still holds all the cards although she attacks him because she only speaks the language of violence.

I am the number you cannot count on your fingers. Edit: he’s saying Steph’s missing the point; you can’t count him on your fingers, he’s not that kind of number.

Would love some input.