#but he misses the control more. and it gets all twisted up inside him

[blxxdsex]

"The genius, Michael Gavey." - Michael Gavey x Reader.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, foul language, loss of virginity, cum control.

English is not my first language, so I hope you will forgive me if there are any mistakes.

It’s not as if anyone’s queuing up to see what’s behind those smudged glasses or that same red sweater he pulls on every Monday. And that's fine. Honestly, it is. He's made peace with it. It’s their loss, isn’t it? That's the mantra he clings to, the thread keeping his fragile ego intact: They're the ones missing out. And God, doesn’t he need to believe it.

Michael’s good at a lot of things, and he knows it. Brilliant, really. Genius, if we're being honest. Maths? Please—he’s never even touched a calculator. Numbers are his domain, his sanctuary, the one place where he feels entirely at ease. Books too—though never fantasy; he’d rather lose himself in something real, something concrete. But everything else? Social skills? A complete disaster, really. Painful to watch.

When you arrived in Oxford, it hit him hard. Why? Because even when he was buried in the silence of the library, there you were, watching him. Always watching. Maybe intending to read a book—upside down, no less—or lounging with your legs thrown over a table, headphones blaring as if you couldn't care less about the world around you.

Michael Gavey isn't used to being seen. For fuck’s sake, he’s Michael Gavey. Nobody. Invisible, as he’s always preferred. But then you came along, and suddenly, invisibility wasn't an option. You became something else entirely: a problem, a distraction, a bloody nuisance he couldn’t seem to get rid of. And maybe, deep down, that’s what scared him most.

So, naturally, his response was to start staring back. Maybe if he leaned into being a proper weirdo, you’d back off. But no, of course not. You didn't flinch. You just stared right back, unwavering, unbothered. It didn't take long for one of the teachers to step in, warning him, of all people, to knock it off. And you? You just smiled. Smiled like you'd won some secret, twisted game, baring all your teeth like a predator who'd just cornered its prey.

When he squinted at you, furrowing his eyebrows in some attempt to decode whatever the hell was going on, you simply glanced at the table, still grinning like you had a secret you were dying to keep.

What was your problem? Were you planning something? Was there a game being played here, something sinister he couldn’t quite see? The questions clawed at him, gnawed at his focus, and yet, no answers came. Only that smile. God, he hated it.

Things weren't improving, no, they were deteriorating rather quickly. And it all took a turn for the bizarre when, in the dead of night, he awoke still half hard, with his shorts drenched in cum and his mind? Cluttered with vivid memories of a particular dream from the previous night. Never had he scrubbed a piece of clothing with such fury in his life; this treacherous body was doing him in. And the most egregious part? His cock was a bloody jest, because even after such mortification, he had to wank off once more just to make the torment subside.

That day, the Oxford corridors felt like they were smoldering beneath him, each step fueling the inferno inside his chest. His sneakers might as well have been on fire for how much he burned with rage. And then he saw you, loitering by your locker, looking infuriatingly calm as always. It was like you wanted to drive him insane.

He stormed over, slamming your locker shut with a single hand, his nostrils flaring like he was ready to tear you apart—not literally, of course. Well, maybe a little. He was unraveled, utterly tormented, and you? You were only making it worse.

“Stop.” The word came out flat, almost pitiful, his voice cracking under the weight of his irritation. His blue eyes, usually so sharp, were clouded and bloodshot, as if they’d been scorched by his fury.

“With what?” you asked, tilting an eyebrow, that insufferable smirk tugging at your lips. Carefree. Effortless. It made his teeth grind in pure frustration. He didn’t even understand why he felt so unhinged—just that he did.

“What the hell do you want?” he barked, his voice echoing down the corridor. Heads turned, a few people pausing to glance at the scene, but you didn't so much as flinch. No fear, no embarrassment. You just leaned lazily against your locker, staring at him down like you had all the time in the world.

“Your number, to start with, would be great.” The words hit him like a physical blow. His pupils dilated so fast it felt like the world had tilted. If darkness swallowed everything right then and there, he was convinced he’d still see you.

And that’s when everything shifted. You weren’t messing with him—not in the way he’d thought. No, you were interested in him. The realisation hit Michael like a slap, and even then, his perpetually self-loathing brain struggled to piece it all together. For once, his stupid mind was just that: stupid.

But then the messages started, tentative at first, and something clicked. You actually got on—really got on. It was strange, almost unnerving, how much you seemed to have in common. You liked some of the same nerdy things as him, and he found himself listening to bands he’d previously written off because you mentioned them. Slowly, the conversations moved out of his phone and into the library, where you started sitting at the same table.

People noticed, of course. Curious glances trailed after the two of you, some even daring to linger when Michael—Michael Gavey, of all people—was caught smiling. Not a smirk or a grimace, but an actual smile, albeit half-hidden behind his hand. But it was there, and for once, he didn’t mind. Not entirely.

And then, on a Friday night when everything seemed eerily serene, the text message arrived. 'Do you want to come to my dorm?' Panic ensued. Perhaps it's a tad presumptuous to assume you want to fuck him, isn't it? Yet, he was presuming precisely that. But the truth is, Michael has only kissed one girl in his entire life; otherwise, his knowledge comes from pornography, books about the human anatomy, and the hushed conversations in the men's locker room. And it's not that he didn't want to; in fact, he wanted to, desperately so, but the truth was that no one seemed sufficiently captivated to offer him the chance. But you, you were offering. Maybe. What does one do with that?

He took a shower, donned his usual jeans and a white shirt, slipped on his sneakers, and even spent time before the mirror wrestling with his blond hair, to little avail, of course. He decided he wouldn't be a coward; he had this chance, maybe, and he wouldn't squander it with timidity. He made his way to the girls' dorm on campus, garnering more than a few disdainful looks from the passing girls. It was just because it was him; if it were Felix sneaking in, they'd be all smiles. But who cares? There was only one person he hoped would truly appreciate his presence. He reached your door, his breath caught in his throat, and knocked so feebly that perhaps he thought you wouldn't even hear. Pathetic, honestly.

But you heard him, and when you opened the door, he froze for a moment. You'd just taken a shower; your skin was still slightly flushed from the hot water, wearing an oversized shirt, once black but now faded to grey, and some pajama shorts that honestly looked more like his underwear than actual shorts. He swallowed hard, managing a crooked smile. You leaned against the doorframe, your smile much more genuine.

"You came." The words slipped from your lips with such ease, rolling off your tongue with a genuine satisfaction that straightened his crooked smile.

"Yeah, well. It's not like I have anything better to do, of course." His reply lacked the sharpness he'd rehearsed in his mind, accompanied by a glance at the floor and a stupid, silly smile.

"Yeah, of course." You laughed, rolling your eyes, and turned your body to give him space to enter, if he wanted to, though he looked as if he might bolt at any second.

But he didn't run away; no, he actually stepped inside. The room was like most others, yet he was struck by how orderly it was. Like any typical dorm, there was the TV, the two single beds, a small table, and in the corner of an adjacent smaller room, the bathroom. The scent of cleaning products lingered, indicating you'd taken the time to tidy up before inviting him over. This shouldn't have pleased him as much as it did, but it did.

"Just take off your sneakers before you lay on the bed," you said with that nonchalant tone of yours, picking up the TV remote from the table.

He glanced at the paused movie on the screen before turning his attention to the bed. His mind wasn't exactly racing as he sat down, beginning to untie his sneakers, but his focus soon shifted to the side of your face. He was transfixed by how your hair framed your features, how your lips were so perfectly shaped, and how your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. He had to run a hand over his face, nearly knocking off his glasses, to bring himself back to reality, blinking several times to refocus on removing his sneakers.

"I chose 'Evil Dead,' but they didn't have the classics." Your voice drew his gaze upward again. You casually made your way to the bed beside him, practically throwing yourself down, causing the mattress to bounce. "Is that a problem for you?" you asked, turning to look at him, your eyes locking with his.

His throat visibly tightened as he swallowed, while you didn't even blink. For a moment, he found it a rather amusing jest. What could a girl like you, with the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, with lips that curved into the brightest smile he could imagine, possibly want with him? He was either the luckiest bastard in the world or the biggest delusional of the year. But that was fine, at least for now.

"No, it's not a problem at all," Michael mumbled, unsure if he was referring to the movie choice or something else entirely. But it would suffice either way.

He saw you smile widely, and you felt you should, noticing his blue eyes dilate behind his glasses. Looking down where you had crossed your legs beneath you, you tried to focus and simply pressed play on the movie. The low noise from the TV soon filled the room, the colors of the film painting your faces and reflecting in Michael's glasses. The silence was comfortable, as always. The sounds of calm breathing filled the space, but well, his eyes weren't really on the TV; they were on you. To the point where he had to rest his hand on his face, just to appreciate it, perhaps.

"You know, watching a movie works better when you're looking at the screen," you commented, your eyes still fixed on the screen, though you felt the heat from his gaze on your cheek.

"I prefer to watch you." His words were barely above a whisper, but they reached you, making your smile widen even more.

Your eyes flicked to him, while his remained steady, though he felt his palms sweating against his cheek. He was nervous, and his attempt at an impassive expression wasn't fooling you. The words that left his lips were just truths, and seeing you smile, it was good to see you smile, it brought a subtle curve to his own lips. Sighing, you drew your knees up to your chest, resting your chin there, unsure of what to make of his words or of him. Just as he was unsure of what to make of you or how much you unsettled him.

"I hate almost everyone here except you." Your words mirrored his in tone, quiet, perhaps too intimate to slip out.

They made him pause, just looking at you, wondering. Time seemed to stand still, the screams from the movie not reaching your ears; things were quiet, almost silent. And that's when his hand rose, wrapping around the back of your neck, perhaps with the most courage he'd ever mustered in his life. Your lips parted slightly when you noticed him shifting on the bed to get closer, and you responded in kind, leaning towards him, your hand hesitating before also reaching up to the back of his neck, slipping between the golden strands to hold him firmly. Bringing your faces close, your breaths began to mingle, and soon all that was reflected in his glasses were your lips, all his attention focused solely on them.

"You're trouble, and you want to know why?" Michael whispered, your gaze falling to his lips as they formed the words. They were thrown at your face, raw and direct. "Because it seems like after I met you, there's been something wrong with my brain." He lifted his thumb to trace your bottom lip, as if to commit it to memory.

"Yeah?" Your response lacked strength, not truly. "That's good, because it seems like after you I'll never be the same." Whispering another confession, now it seemed more than fitting, even with your breathing too rapid to say much more, or what you truly wanted to.

A faint smile touched Michael's lips, perhaps an attempt at composure before he leaned in closer. Tilting your heads in opposite directions, your noses brushed against each other, the taste of each other's breath mingling on your lips, shared. His lips were the first to part, capturing your lower one slowly, almost tentatively, until yours responded, capturing his upper lip. The kiss started slowly, your lips moving together with an unhurried grace, despite your quickening breaths at the contact. His free hand found your waist, attempting to pull you closer, while your hand tangled in his hair, gripping it almost in a fist.

But it wasn't enough, far from it. Leaning forward, Michael guided you both down onto the bed, supporting himself with each hand on either side of your head, positioning his body between your legs, which parted to welcome him. One of his hands slid down to your thigh, lifting it and pressing it against his side, your hips naturally seeking each other, and his already hardened cock brushed against your increasingly aroused intimacy. Sounds escaped between kisses, your hands sliding to grip his back, when Michael pressed your bodies together again, rolling his hips and drawing out a sly moan from his own lips, making it difficult to continue kissing you.

Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt, attempting to pull it up, but his hands caught yours, pinning them above your head, fingers intertwining there, as he pulled back just enough to look you squarely in the eye. His heavy breathing made his chest rise and fall, sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

"I..." the words seemed reluctant to escape as he gazed down at you, your lips flushed and your chest heaving. He didn't want to dissuade you, but he had to say it. "I've never done that."

Your only response was to lift your head from the bed, seeking his lips and succeeding in a gentle capture, with him lowering himself to return the kiss. Though not deep, your teeth nipped at his lower lip, tugging gently, perhaps trying to draw him closer. Your fingers pressed against his above your head, yearning to be free, you just wanted to touch him, feel him, it didn't matter if he was inexperienced, if you had to guide him step by step, or if this was all you would have, feeling him like this above you.

"Just touch me, I don't care," you murmured against his lip, without the strength for more words, which in response prompted him to roll his hips against yours again, closing his eyes with a moan, just as your head tilted back, lifting your hips to meet his movement.

His hands released yours, and you quickly grabbed his shirt, pulling it up and off him, and he reciprocated, lifting yours inch by inch until he could pull it over your head. Without a bra, your breasts were bared to him, making him pause. His lips went dry as he took in the sight of your hardened nipples, ready for attention, despite his momentary hesitation. You saw it in his eyes, in how they flickered to meet yours, and your hand reached to caress his cheek before grabbing the back of his neck, gently guiding him toward your chest, arching off the bed to ensure he understood your consent.

And he understood more than clearly, leaning down to kiss the space between your breasts before moving to one, enveloping it with his mouth entirely, using his hand to squeeze it firmly. The sensation of your skin against his mouth elicited a low sound from him that vibrated through your body, prompting you to grind your hips against his already hard cock. His tongue followed, swirling around your nipple, sucking as if his life depended on it. His mouth salivated, saliva running down your chest, glistening your skin with his essence. His free hand went to your other breast, squeezing it tightly, his lips trailing kisses to the other side, his tongue sliding along until it reached your other nipple, circling it with fervent enthusiasm.

"Fuck," you murmured, your intimacy throbbing, squeezing as you leaned on the bed to create friction against his erection, making him to bite the nipple in his mouth to stifle a loud moan.

His lips left your chest, observing the glistening, swollen flesh from his attentions. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight, going straight to his core. He looked down to where his hardness met your shorts, stopping himself from climaxing right there, taking deep breaths.

"Tell me..." his words trailed off, his lips struggling to draw in breaths. "Tell me how to be good for you." His whisper was broken, he was too far gone to really care about it.

You smiled, even in the throes of your overwhelming need for him. One of your hands took one of his, slowly guiding it to your core, and he watched intently as you slipped it inside your shorts and soaked panties, biting his lip as his expression contorted with pleasure. Slowly, you positioned his fingers perfectly over your clit, starting to move them in circles, making your breathing quicken further. Fortunately, Michael was a quick learner, or perhaps just desperate enough. Your fingers left his as he took over, moving them faster, circling over your soaked clit. You tried to reach for his hardness in his pants, but with his free hand, he caught yours and pinned it to the bed.

"Don't." The words came out swiftly, a desperate command because he knew well that if you touched him, he would cum right then and there.

You accepted it, not attempting to touch him again. Feeling his fingers slide over and over your most sensitive spot, the sounds began to fill the room, the wetness so intense it seeped through your pajama shorts, and he could hardly believe his incredible luck. His eyes moved to your face, noticing your parted lips, your cheeks flushed red, and your breasts, still glistening from his saliva, seeming to beckon him. One of your hands gripped his wrist, and he could see from your expression how close you were. The hand that had been holding yours to the bed released it, moving to the back of your neck, lifting your head to make you look down.

"Watch," he murmured, sliding his thumb perfectly over your clit, and you felt like stars were bursting behind your eyes even as you complied and stared.

You saw his hand moving inside your shorts, the veins in his forearm pulsing with the effort, the muscles there flexing. His hand held you tightly, almost encompassing your neck. And when his fingers started moving side to side, you knew you were finished. Your lips parted completely, a groan trapped in your throat escaped, you tried to throw your head back but his grip prevented it, and then, your walls clenched, he could feel the pulsing around his fingers, your belly flexing as you reached your climax, clamping your legs around his forearm.

Your body goes limp on the bed, your thighs still trembling as his hands slide from your neck down to your thighs, smearing his taste there. He grips the hem of your shorts, pulling them down along with your panties. When his eyes meet your pulsing, glistening pussy, a sigh escapes him, eyes closing momentarily to regain control. You hear the sound of his pants being unzipped, him kicking them off along with his underwear. Your eyes open just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, bringing the head to your sensitive clit, eliciting a tight, desperate moan from you.

"You're so beautiful." he murmurs, dragging the precum-slick tip of his cock across your clit, making your walls clench as he watches. His free hand runs down the inside of your thighs, ensuring they're coated in your own wetness.

He squeezes his eyes shut in pure ecstasy, rubbing his cock from your clit to your entrance, gripping the base tightly to stave off his climax. Your thighs tremble, your hands gripping the sheets, but nothing seems to alleviate the intensity, there's no escape. You're consumed, completely. Your hips start to move desperately for contact, even as your body protests, your fingers threatening to tear the sheets apart. He rubs once more, the almost sinful sounds echoing off the walls, mingling with his low moans and the contractions of his stomach. You can tell he's doing everything in his power not to cum.

"Can I?" He opens his eyes to whisper, looking directly into yours, and with no strength left to speak, you simply nod.

He sighs deeply before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing inside, feeling your walls resist yet yield as he presses in until fully seated, your groins meeting. A drawn-out moan escapes your lips as his head falls back, a soft groan leaving his throat followed by a sequence of breaths that made his entire body tremble. Michael pauses, trying and failing to calm his racing heart and the overwhelming sensation of your hot, tight insides. Leaning forward, he rests one hand on the bed while the other removes his glasses, setting them aside. Your hands rise to the back of his neck, bringing his forehead to yours, holding it there as he makes the first thrust. Both of your lips part, your moans and breaths mingling.

His thrusts were deep, yet slow. He would withdraw almost completely before sliding back in, each time making your eyes squeeze shut tighter and your head press against his. The sweat on your foreheads seemed to meld you together, turning you into one entity. His eyes opened, burning into your face, and you met his gaze, your eyes filling with tears of pure pleasure as he thrust even deeper.

"I like you," he murmurs, cupping your cheek as his other hand grips the headboard, making the wood creak. A smile graces your lips, almost cut off by his cock sliding in deeper.

"I like you too," you manage to reply between ragged breaths, your fingers tightening around the back of his neck as if it's your lifeline.

He brings his lips to your forehead, giving you a long, lingering kiss, his breath warm against your skin. Then, he brings his hand to your mouth, and with that signal, he starts thrusting with all he has, making you scream into his hand, which hopefully muffles the sound. He rests his own mouth there to also muffle his moans, feeling sweat run down every part of his body, mixing with yours. The bed bangs against the wall, your eyes roll back when he hits that sweet spot inside you, your hands lifting to dig your nails into his back. As your walls clench around him, he feels your climax spill out, soaking the sheets and his lower abdomen. With a louder moan, he quickly pulls out, his cock spilling his cum over your belly.

He releases your mouth and the headboard, letting his full weight rest on you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck. Your arms encircle his neck, keeping him close as your entire body trembles with the aftershocks of pleasure. Both of you are exhausted, both satisfied. Michael's thoughts drift back to the early weeks of knowing you, how he wished you would vanish, and now, how he dreads the thought of you leaving, like everyone else. The irony might have drawn a bitter laugh from him if he weren't so physically spent.

"I wasn't bluffing," you hear him murmur into your neck, capturing your attention amidst the sensations still coursing through your body. You slowly turn your head towards him.

"What?" you whisper, perhaps fearful that even a slight increase in volume might make this moment slip away, just as much as he is. His eyes, those blues that most people overlook, capture your senses.

"I really like you." Hearing those words again, this time not in the heat of the moment, did something different to you stomach, perhaps quickened your heart more than the entire act itself, burned your skin more than anything else.

Drawing him closer with your hand, you adjust his position so he lies on your chest, where he places a gentle kiss. Your fingers delve into his hair, and you cast a brief glance to the side where his glasses still rest. A smile graces your lips because the truth is, you are utterly and hopelessly in love with the genius Michael Gavey. The irony is that he doesn't seem genius enough to realize it.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter seven Hiori and Miss Journalist share more than just a passionate night, opening up about their relationship and the uncertain future that lies ahead. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, suggestive nsfw masterlist

After the heated confrontation on the JFA party balcony, the two of you decided to run into the night. 

The music and laughter echoed behind as you navigated through the crowd on the dance floor, weaving past a sea of bodies. Like mischievous teenagers sneaking away, you let Hiori sweep you away, his hand clasping yours tightly as both of you shared hushed giggles on your way out. 

Your heart races, feeling the adrenaline course through your veins. But you know it’s not just from running but from the familiar excitement between you both.

A cab ride later, you arrive at Hiori’s apartment. The complex sat in a quiet neighborhood, far removed from the relentless chaos of the city. As the elevator hums upward, Hiori’s touch grows bolder. His lips find yours, his hands exploring you with an eagerness that leaves you wanting more. 

By the time you reach his door, you’re tangled in each other, his kisses fervent, his hand cradling the back of your head while he fumbles with his keys.

“Maybe we should get inside first,” you murmur between kisses, barely managing the words.

“Nah, I like it this way,” he replies with a grin against your lips, his hand sliding to the small of your back to pull you closer.

When the door finally opens, the two of you stumble inside, breaking apart only long enough for him to catch your hand. He leads you further in, fingers intertwined.

Hiori’s apartment was modest but inviting. The living room is tidy, the furniture simple. Beneath a large TV, a PS5 sat neatly in its place, its controllers perfectly arranged. Everything else spoke of practicality rather than extravagance.

You couldn’t help but think of other athletes his age, often swept up in the luxury their careers afford them. Big houses in exclusive neighborhoods. Sleek sports cars. Designer furniture. Wardrobes filled with high-end brands. Nights spent clubbing, jet-setting, and entertaining an ever-rotating cast of partners.

But Hiori’s different. Even before stepping into his home, you’ve sensed it in the way he carries himself.  And it even bleeds into his home. Simple, thoughtful choices define his home, save for the pockets of indulgence: the gaming setup and a few shelves lined with football memorabilia. 

“Make yerself at home. I’ll grab ya some water,” Hiori calls out, disappearing into the kitchen.

You wander towards the balcony, drawn by the expansive window that frames the city skyline. Sliding the glass door open, you step outside, the cool night air wrapping around you. The city stretches before you, vibrant and alive, but softened by distance. Above it all, the moon hung luminous, bathing the world in silver light.

You can’t help but pull out your phone to capture the moment. The city below felt worlds away, a far cry from the relentless energy of your own apartment (that you share with a college friend), where even behind closed doors, the unsleeping city’s energy seems to reach and breathe life into.

But here, in Hiori’s quiet home, you feel safe from the usual chaos you live in every day. 

“The moon’s real pretty tonight, don’tcha think?” Hiori’s voice breaks the quiet as he joins you on the balcony, a glass of water in hand. His gaze isn’t on the city or the moon—it’s on you.

He reaches for a stray strand of your hair, absently twisting it between his fingers.

“It is,” you reply softly, eyes on the horizon. “It’s... breathtaking.”

To him, though, it wasn’t the moon or the view that captivates him. It’s you.

The moonlight softens your features, erasing the tension he knows you carry. He never understood when books and movies talk about being completely stunned by someone’s beauty. He never did.

But somehow, you basking under the moonlight got his heart pounding, he swore it would leap out of his chest. 

In that moment, you look at peace, and he wants nothing more than to etch this image of you into his memory.

You finally face him and when you reach for the water, he smirks and pulls it away. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a sip but doesn't swallow. Instead, his free hand slides to the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

Caught off guard, you felt the cold rush of water spill into your mouth. You gulp instinctively, then gasp when he pulls back, a boyish grin lighting up his face.

“What was that?” you ask, half-laughing, half-stunned.

“Just somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to try.” he shrugs, brushing a stray droplet from your lips with his thumb.

The two of you go back inside and you finish drinking the remaining water in the glass. After placing the now-empty glass on the coffee table, Hiori catches your hand again, this time pressing soft kisses along your fingers, your palm, your wrist. Each touch grows hungrier and draws you closer to him, pulling you toward his open bedroom door.

Compared to the simple living room, Hiori’s bedroom offers a more vivid glimpse into who he is. It’s still nothing fancy but the first thing you notice is the sleek, high-end PC setup in the corner. The multi-screen rig and glowing keyboard look like something out of a tech enthusiast’s dream. You can’t help but wonder how many months of your salary you’d need to build something even half as impressive.

The soft glow from his wide-screen monitors lights up the room. Its screensaver displays a scene from a game you don’t recognize. Posters and shelves line the walls, filled with a mix of manga, books, and meticulously arranged character figures. Your gaze lingers on a strikingly detailed 2B and 9S pair. When you look closer, you spot a familiar keychain.

It’s a small 2B that matches the 9S one he gave you before you guys stopped talking to each other.

“Ya can look around,” Hiori says, his voice low and amused. He sits on the edge of his neatly made king-size bed, watching you with a mix of curiosity and an almost shy anticipation.

You wander towards his manga collection, fingers lightly brushing along the spines as you read through the titles. When you pause and open one, your eyebrows lift slightly. It’s a shoujosei title, and the mature, steamy panels on the page catch you off guard.

Hiori notices and shifts a little, a hint of nervousness creeping into his expression. He’s never felt this self-conscious before. Talking about his interests with you had always felt easy, but now, with you here in the flesh, seeing it all up close, he wonders:

Does she think it’s weird? Childish? Too much?

It’s not like he’s inexperienced. He’s dated before, even hooked up with others in the past. But he’s never brought anyone home. The thought of sharing this space with someone had always felt too personal. 

And yet, after kissing you on the balcony, he knew he couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else bringing you home. The very memory of Reo asking you out sends a fresh wave of irritation through him.

“Hey,” Hiori calls, casually pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion. “Something caught yer eye?”

Startled, you snap the book shut and turn toward him. Warmth blooms across your face as your eyes land on the now half-naked midfielder, his lean, toned torso illuminated by the monitor’s soft light. He pats the space beside him, smirking slightly.

It’s one thing seeing him all sweaty and his jersey sticking into his body during games. But being up close, behind closed doors and seeing his toned torso got you holding your breath for no good reason. 

You shrug off his cardigan and drape it over his gaming chair before walking towards him.

“You’ve got some impressive collections,” you say, attempting to sound casual. “I’m kind of jealous.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Ya don’t think it’s childish?”

Hiori’s hand finds yours, and before you can answer, he gently tugs you onto his lap.

“I—uh… no,” you manage, a little flustered. “It’s very… you. But I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who reads shoujosei. Especially the, um, adult-rated ones.”

You shift slightly, unsure of your own weight, but Hiori’s hands steady you. His grip is firm, and his thumbs trace slow circles on your hips through the fabric of your trousers.

“Well,” he says, his tone light and teasing, “What can I say? M’just a cultured kinda guy.”

Your arms wrap around Hiori’s neck, pulling him closer as his hands find your waist. His touch is firm yet hesitant, as though he's afraid to push too far.

Before you can process it, you tug your top over your head and toss it aside. In one smooth motion, he flips you onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours. The mattress sinks beneath your weight as he moves to unbutton your trousers, sliding them off and leaving you in nothing but a matching set of black lingerie. His gaze lingers, taking in the sight of you in nothing but your underwear.

Hiori stands briefly to shimmy out of his pants, leaving only his boxers. He kisses you again and it deepens even further, growing even more bolder. His lips trails down from your mouth to your jawline, then your neck, where he pauses to draw in a deep, shaky breath. 

Every touch is deliberate. Firm yet reverent. Like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingers. But at the same time, there’s a certain hunger in his touches that feels restrained, as if he’s holding back. And you feel it too. The tension, the longing. 

When his hands slide over your thighs, you instinctively move to cover them, a wave of insecurity about your stretch marks hitting you. But before you can, Hiori gently moves your hands away, leaning down to press soft kisses against the marks. There's a certain tenderness to it that makes your heart ache. 

“Yer beautiful,” he murmurs to you, peppering your thighs with light kisses. 

His words send a warmth flooding through you, and your heart races. But as his fingers hook around the strap of your bra, he pauses. His forehead rests against yours as he exhales heavily, his breath hot against your skin.

“I don’t want this to be just physical,” he says softly, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want ya thinkin’ this is just for tonight.”

You blink up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. He looks away, as if afraid of what he might see in your eyes.

You cup his face, gently guiding him back to meet your gaze. “I don’t think that,” you whisper. “And if we’re not ready for this, it’s okay. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

A small, relieved smile plays on his lips. You both chuckle at how awkward and intense things have become, and he pulls you upright so you can lean on his chest. 

He exhales, his shoulders relaxing as though a weight has been lifted. Then he begins to talk.

“I’ve never been uninterested in romance,” he admits, his gaze shifting to the window, where the faint glow of moonlight seeps in. 

“It’s just… no one’s ever made me feel like it was worth the effort. I liked the quiet and peace of being on my own. Maybe I’ve even convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone. Easier that way.”

You stay silent, your heart tightening as he continues.

“Maybe it’s because of my parents,” he confesses, his voice dipping with a hint of bitterness. 

“They’re both Olympic athletes. Together, they’re the perfect story on the outside: power couple, world-class achievers, everything you’d think people dream about. But growing up, I realized their love wasn’t the kind of love that brought happiness. It was convenience.”

He briefly pauses, remembering that night when he found his parents shouting at each other for not doing better to make him the best. His heart twists at the memory of falling down the stairs, the sharp sting of pain in his knee as he fell. 

He hadn’t meant to overhear them arguing, but their raised voices were impossible to ignore.

"He’s slacking because you’re too soft on him!" his father had yelled.

"And you’re too harsh! No wonder he looks miserable every day!"

Hiori had stood frozen outside their door, his small hands trembling. He thought playing soccer made them happy, that it brought them closer as a family. But that night, the illusion broke.

"I still remember the exact words," Hiori murmurs, half to himself. "'We can’t waste his potential. He has to be the best.'" He looks away, his jaw tightening. 

"I realized that night," Hiori says softly, his voice laced with quiet bitterness, "their love wasn’t real. It was convenient. They stayed together because I was their project—not their son. Not for each other, either. Just… to protect their legacy."

He pauses, the weight of it all settling over him again. What if love really is just a transaction? A compromise? The thought had scared him then, and it still did now.

"I kept playing soccer after that," Hiori continues, his voice steadying. 

"Not ‘cause I loved it, but ‘cause I thought it’d keep the family together. That maybe it’d be enough to stop the cracks from showin’. But it never was." He swallows hard, his gaze clouding. 

“Soccer stopped being mine. It became theirs. A chore I did for people I didn’t even love anymore.”

His words hang in the air like a confession he’s been holding for years. He hesitates, looking back at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“That’s why I’ve always kept people at a distance, even when I tried dating. I just… couldn’t care. I felt detached. Until ya.” His voice softens, but the rawness remains. 

“Yer different," he says, his voice low but full of emotion. 

"Ya made me wanna know everythin’ about ya. Made me wanna be bothered, be interrupted. I… want ya to look at me. Not anyone else. Just me. I want ya."

For Hiori, this moment feels surreal. It’s been so long since he’s let himself get close to anyone like this. Not just because he’s unwilling, but also because his life as an athlete has left little room for romance. 

Between grueling schedules and the endless pursuit of perfection, there was no space for vulnerability—or so he thought. 

And then you happened. 

You walked into his life and unraveled his carefully constructed walls without even trying. Now, with you here, wrapped in his arms, the raw intimacy feels new, almost overwhelming. He hadn’t realized how much he craved this until now.

“I didn’t know how much I wanted it until I thought I might lose ya.”

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he searches your eyes. “Ya scare me,” he admits. “Ya make me feel things I don’t know how to handle.”

The depth of his words stuns you, leaving your chest heavy with emotions you can barely name. Without thinking, you sit up and you lean into him and pull him into a fierce hug. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“You scare me too,” you confess, your voice trembling. 

“You’re the only one I see. Always have been. I meant every word I said earlier. And I’ll say it a thousand more times if you need me to.”

You pull back slightly, your hands cupping his face as you meet his gaze. 

 “You’re… unreachable, Hiori. And I can’t even begin to understand what you see in me.”

“It’s hard to explain,” you continue, your own voice faltering under the weight of your honesty. 

“You leave me speechless, and yet I could talk about you forever. Getting to know you these past months—through games, through work—it’s felt unreal, like something out of a movie. And that scares me because liking someone like you feels impossible for someone like me.”

His brows furrow, and you see the protest forming on his lips, but you press a gentle kiss there before he can speak.

Hiori reaches up, his hands covering yours as they rest against his cheeks. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of hesitation before he speaks, his voice quieter now but no less steady.

“You don’t have to wonder,” he murmurs. “About what I see in you. All I know is ya make it feel like it’s worth a try. I don’t have all the answers, but… I know I want to try. With ya.”

His words land softly. You don’t respond right away, the air between you thick with unspoken fears and hopes.

Finally, you nod, your lips curving into a small, uncertain smile. “I don’t know if I’m good at this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to try too. With you.”

A small, almost incredulous laugh escapes him, and you feel the tension in his shoulders ease as his hands slide down to rest on your waist. “That’s good enough fer me,” he says softly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a genuine smile.

You both sit there, holding each other, the quiet between you no longer heavy but comforting. The weight of expectations, doubts, and past fears seems to lighten, even if just a little. It’s not perfect—there’s no dramatic declaration, no grand resolution—but it feels real.

And that’s more than either of you had dared to hope for.

The soft rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, painting the room in a warm, golden glow. You stir, body stretching lazily before realizing Hiori is still sound asleep beside you.

Tangled together, your leg drapes over his, he cradles you against his chest. Peaking thru your lidded eyes, you see his features softened in a rare moment of peace. The sight tugs at her heart, but a glance at the clock reveals it's almost noon.

It’s noon. Shit. You find your phone under the pillow and check your messages. There’s one from your roommate, who’s worried you didn’t come home. Both of you share a GPS tracker on your phones to ensure each other’s safety.

miko: WOMAN I SWEAR TO GOD IF U DONT REPLY I WILL CALL POLICE WHEN IT HITS 24HRS

miko: IS THIS WHERE UR BODY IS BURIED?!

[image attachment]

Attached is a screenshot of your geolocation on the app, your avatar image zoomed in.

miko: if u hooked up with a guy, do a sister a favor and tell me in advance!

miko: also, i want all the details when u get home. stay safe! xoxo

You laugh breathlessly, trying to slip out of Hiori’s arms without waking him. Stealthily, you slide out of bed. You’re still in your underwear, so you decide to grab Hiori’s shirt from the floor and wear it in the meantime.

At this point, you’re already contemplating going home, but you don’t want to leave him so abruptly. Closing the bedroom door behind you, you head to the apartment’s kitchen. Maybe you can cook brunch and eat together before heading home.

The fridge is surprisingly well-stocked. There are eggs, beef, chicken, vegetables, and fruits. The cupboard is filled with cup noodles, chips, and snacks. You decide on a simple but hearty brunch—pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruit.

The rhythmic sizzle of the stove fills the apartment, and the aroma wafts into the bedroom. Hiori stirs awake, his hand instinctively reaching for the space beside him—empty.

She’s gone. 

Panic rises in his chest as his eyes snap open, heart pounding. Memories of last night flood back, and he bolts upright, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He hurriedly gets up and stumbles into the hallway, his heart racing.

Then, he sees you in the kitchen, wearing his shirt and humming softly as you tidy up the countertops. You’re on your phone, replying to your roommate to inform her that you are indeed alive and kicking. The tension in his body melts instantly, especially when you pout for the camera and snap a quick selfie to send to your roommate as "proof of life," as you call it.

You take the plates and notice him looking a bit dazed.

“You’re up,” you greet him with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind me raiding your kitchen.”

Relief washes over his face, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Ya scared me. I thought ya left.”

You tilt your head, your expression softening. “Why would I just leave?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he walks over to stand beside you, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he absentmindedly tugs at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing.

 “It smells good,”  he murmurs, his voice warm against the shell of your ear as he takes a plate from your hands.

You and Hiori sit at the small dining table. Hiori has done the liberty of putting on some sweatpants and a shirt.

Thank God, or he might’ve been my breakfast, you think.

He takes a bite of the pancakes, his expression shifting into one of pleasant surprise.

“This is really good,” he says between bites.

You grin. “Not bad for someone who usually orders takeout, huh?” 

You pop a piece of sliced apple into your mouth, watching him while sneaking a quick peek at your phone when it vibrates with a message from your roommate.

Hiori leans back, his eyes lingering on you. “Stay a little longer.” His voice softens, hesitant. 

“You don’t have to go home immediately. I just... I don’t want ya feelin’ like ya hafta rush off.”

You smile, your chest tightening with a mix of surprise and affection. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

After brunch, you decide to take a shower. Hiori lends you a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a loose shirt. The clothes are oversized, practically swallowing your frame, and Hiori can’t help but smile at how cute you look in his clothes.

Once you're done, he takes his turn in the shower, emerging moments later in similar attire—black sweatpants, but he opts for a black hoodie instead.

When he steps into the living room, he finds you on the floor, flipping through old photo albums and yearbooks that he must’ve taken from his home. It’s been years since he’s touched them. You’re currently looking at photos and clippings from his Blue Lock days.

He sits beside you and starts walking you through the memories. There’s one photo of the Blue Lock team celebrating after their victory against the U20 team. Isagi’s arm is slung over his shoulder, pulling him close as they all smile together.

Another photo shows the Bastard Munchen team at the start of the Neo Egoist League. The group is stiff, awkward, but undeniably cute—especially the younger Noel Noa standing in the middle of a group of teenage boys. You spot Hiori between Isagi and Ness, wearing the same jersey, his face deadpan as ever. The boyish energy surrounding him makes it just so endearing.

As Hiori recalls some fun stories behind the photos, you snap pictures of them. When he asks why, you casually answer, “For my personal photo album collection.”

While Hiori fires up the PS5, your eyes catch a familiar cutout. It’s the clipping of the article you first wrote about Bastard Munchen earlier this season. The sight of it brings a nostalgia, and you pause for a moment, letting the emotion wash over you before carefully closing the album.

You both settle onto the couch, deciding to play Overcooked 2. It was meant to be a chill game (Hiori’s words, not yours) but your competitive streak kicks in, and suddenly you’re both obsessed with earning three stars on every level without missing a single order.

It’s chaotic and hilarious. Hiori doubles over with laughter, teasing you for taking it so seriously. But your energy is infectious, and soon, he’s caught up in the challenge as well. For a while, everything else fades away—the world outside no longer matters. It’s just the two of you, working in sync, caught up in the frantic fun of the game.

Then, a sudden realization dawns on Hiori. One night, the two of you were just casually playing online together, and now—here you are, comfortably (and fiercely) competing in his apartment, with nothing more than each other’s company to keep the world at bay.

The game is in full swing when a notification pings on the screen, briefly interrupting the action.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes flicking to Hiori.

A stream of messages floods the tv.

isagoat: hiori where d heck r u isagoat: check ur phone kyuuurona: check gc now!!! jintan: whos the girl raichinumbahwan: damn everyones panicking abt u rn and ur playing overcooked?!

Hiori picks up his phone, his brow furrowing as he scrolls through a deluge of messages in the Bastard München group chat.

Ness: look what i found /Hiori Ness: [image attachment link] Isagi: So this is why you were gone immediately? Igarashi: You were supposed to be my wingman last night /Hiori 🙁 Gesner: damn hiori has more rizz than raichi wwwww Kurona: [chiitan bonk gif]

Hiori clicks on the link from Ness, and you can’t help but peek over his shoulder. The screen loads a gossip article with a headline that's as bold as it is damning:

THE MOST ELUSIVE BASTARD MÜNCHEN MIDFIELDER CAUGHT KISSING A MYSTERY WOMAN AT THE JFA PARTY—AND LEAVING TOGETHER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE EVENT!

The accompanying photo is blurry, but unmistakable.

It’s you and Hiori, his navy-blue cardigan shielding most of you from view as he cradles your face, kissing you.

Your face pales. “Oh god…” You immediately cover your mouth, mortified.

Hiori groans, running a hand through his hair. “I knew someone’d see us. Shoulda been more careful.”

The two of you sit in stunned silence, staring at his phone as the comments continue to flood in beneath the gossip article. Some are playful, others more speculative:

Is the new girl a celebrity? Is she someone from JFA? Hiori Yo a womanizer?! Is Miss Journalist out of the picture? HioRizz caught on 4K Edited, that’s not Hiori lolol Does anyone else think she’s kinda familiar? Like I’ve seen her somewhere before. Hiori going public with a girl? Wild. Who’s next, Niko Ikki?

You scroll through them, a tinge of panic rising in your chest. The sudden spotlight is definitely not what you need right now. You don’t want to cause any trouble for Hiori—or yourself.

Especially not for him, since he’s already a public figure. Someone who’s been fiercely private about his personal life.

You glance up at him, worry etched on your face. “Hiori, this could cause problems for you, right?”

He meets your gaze, unwavering. “I don’t care what they say ‘bout me. M’more worried ‘bout ya. Are ya okay with this?”

“As long as you’re okay, I’ll be fine,” you reply, nodding more to reassure yourself than him.

Hiori notices the subtle shift in your expression, and without a second thought, he places his hand over yours.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, squeezing your hand gently. “We knew this could happen. Not this soon, but... I won’t let it get worse.I won’t say anythin’ about us till yer ready.”

You look up at him. “But what if they don’t leave you alone? What if they keep bothering you? I don’t want to cause you any problems this early on.”

The tension in the room begins to ease as the two of you talk through the complexities of the situation. Hiori leans back, propping his feet up on the coffee table, his fingers running through his hair in thought.

“We can’t ignore it,” he admits, his voice firm but calm. “Our lives are too connected, professionally and personally. The media will be watching, and people will wanna know more. But I don’t want that to dictate us, either.”

You nod, the weight of the situation sinking in. “It’s hard, though. I mean, we’re both in the public eye. You with your career, and me with mine. If this becomes a story, my job could get involved too.”

“I don’t want to put you on the spot, or make you uncomfortable, or—”

“Hey, hey.” He cuts you off, meeting your gaze. “Ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout me too much, alright?” His fingers intertwine with yours.

“But you—”

“It’s not just me in this. It’s both of us. So lemme worry ‘bout ya too, ‘kay?” He leans in and kisses you softly on the lips.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he assures you. “We don’t hafta let them dictate how we handle this. Not until we’re ready.”

You look at him, your heart swelling with appreciation for his honesty, his understanding. “We can keep it private for now, right?”

“For as long as ya need,” he says, his eyes soft with affection. “Let’s just focus on what we have. No distractions.”

The conversation lingers in the air, but Hiori gently pulls you into a quiet, comforting silence. After a few moments, he leans in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“This isn’t something we have to solve today,” he murmurs, his voice steady, calm. “Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll deal with it. But right now, we’re here.”

You smile up at him, the warmth of his words melting the uncertainty that had been growing inside you. “And that’s enough, right?”

“Yeah,” he says with a gentle grin. “That’s enough.”

Hiori holds you close, his arms wrapping around you, and the noise of the outside world fades into nothingness. The article, the comments, the chaos—they’re all just background noise in your little bubble, and for the moment, that’s all that matters.

amari's notes: this is my fave chapter so far! i was originally making this a smut chapter (but i suck at writing one) and it didn't felt right for some reason with the both of them. but nevertheless, this one is really close to my heart, i love hiori and miss journalist's dynamic so much huhu anw, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. i'll greatly appreciate it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ (if you wanna join the taglist, just comment or send me a message!)

taglist: @inu1gf

[kaybreezy3000]

First ~ A Five Hargreeves/Female Reader Insert request

Nov. 16 Anonymous asked:

Hellooooo please can you write a soft dom five smut where it's the readers first time? (Female reader if that's okay :))

(4914 word one-shot, Rated Mature for explicit sexual content)

Notes/Tags/Warnings: neither are minors, Virginity, Smut, Dominance-Control, Surrender, Acceptance.

First

~~~~~~~~~

It had finally happened. You met that special someone that made you feel complete, like without them by your side, a part of you would be missing. All it took was Five giving you one of his adorable smiles, or him saying a witty comment to get you to laugh, and your heart skipped a beat.

He had been spooning you, nuzzling his face against your neck, his long fingers delicately drawing lines up and down the underside of your arm, and you were in heaven. Then your movie ended.

Untangling his legs from yours, Five pushed his feet to the end of your couch, stretching. The arm he had draped around you slipped away as he lazily folded it behind his head with his other. “It’s late,” he pointed out, followed by a drawn-out yawn.

Clicking the TV off, you twisted your body around to face him. “So what if it’s late,” you challenged, wrapping your hand around his slacked tie, towing him closer.

Five’s soft lips hesitantly grazed yours. When he pulled back, eyes closed, you tried to follow him with your lips, blindly searching.

Charmed by your innocence but doing his best to squash his more lustful desires, Five reached out, his fingertips brushing against your cheek before he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

You opened your eyes, looking back at him in disappointment.

“I should go,” he whispered.

Thanks to Five and his warm body burrowed around yours, you’d been held in a suspended state of arousal for the last two hours. Frustration mounting, your thighs clenched around the pooling heat smearing your panties. “Five Hargreeves, you are driving me crazy!” you playfully growled at him. 

Gathering all your courage, using a move you’d learned from his play book, you leaned in, seductively sucking his lower lip into your mouth.

Five let out a moan that sounded as pained as if you’d just sucker punched him. His mouth hungrily molded to yours, the warm bulge of fabric between his legs nudging against your hip.

From the feel of things, you could tell that didn’t want to go home, but after only a moment more of indulging himself, he backed away. “I mean it. I should go,” he breathlessly insisted.

Releasing the grip you had on his necktie; you slowly walked your fingers down the front of his dress shirt. His breath hitched, his lean muscles anxiously tensing the further south you explored. Stopping just short of his waistband, he made no move to retaliate, and worse, he said nothing to guide you along like he normally did.

Suddenly, you weren’t so sure of yourself.

Dark strands of hair dangled over his penetrating gaze.

The wheels in his head were turning and you knew his worries were getting the best of him again. You also knew that despite the awful things Five had been put through to get to this point, he was still the kindest, most loving person you’d ever met. He was also the hardest on himself. 

Determined to turn his frown upside down, you cupped your hand, slowly moving your palm over his crotch. 

“Fuck.” 

The sound of his strained curse doing something magical to your insides, your hand started moving just a little faster.

“If you keep that up, you’re going to be in big trouble,” he warned.

“Good,” you countered, your confidence building with every contortion of his handsome face.

Five shook his head, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. “I feel like a perverted old monster who should be stoned in the street for allowing this.” “Five….” you droned in amused irritation. Five may have been much, much older, but he didn't look any older than you.

“No really,” he continued, “Asking you out should have been a sign I’d finally totally lost it, but thanks to your relentless flirting, I did it anyway. I’m a selfish bastard, and now here we are, you the virtuous virgin fondling my dastardly dick.”

Laughing hysterically, your over clothing hand-job became even more clumsily executed, but based on Five’s dreamy expression, he was still enjoying it.

“What am I going to do with you?” he groaned, his voice enduringly cracking to a higher pitch as he complained. “It’s wrong for me to be taking advant-”

“You are not taking advantage of me,” you fired back. “I want this. I want you to be my first everything.”

Giving you a crafty looking side smirk, Five reached down, calmly taking your hand away from him. “You keep saying that, and it’s really making me question your sanity." He perked up. "Maybe we should both move into the nut house. It worked out okay for my brother and Lila. Then again, they are morons."

You scowled and his smile deepened. 

“Five, I know you think I’m not ready, but I am. Stay with me tonight.”

He sucked in a breath, letting it out with a breathy damn it.

You giggled at him.

His eyes lowered to your chest. You were really pushing him to the limits of his decency. 

All he could think about was staying, of how wonderful it would be to share your bed and make your thighs thrash against his head as he used his lips to do way more than kiss you. Doing that or anything he hadn’t already done to defile you was probably not how he should try to win your heart, which was exactly why he was trying so damn hard to take it slow.

Fuck this was so fucking hard, he mentally fumed.

Speaking of hard…

Like you, Five’s semi erect buddy in his pants was not getting the message that it was time to call it a night and its disobedience was not at all helping him think like the grown man he was supposed to be.

Instead of continuing to look at how far he could see down the front of your shirt, his entire body flushing with heat, he cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours. Even though he was undoubtedly the one in control of this situation, feeling more vulnerable by the second, he let out a tense laugh.

You smiled and ducked your head shyly, making that same lock of hair he’d fixed fall all over again.

To prevent himself from reaching out to replace it behind your ear, he adjusted his grip. Letting your wrist go, he laced his fingers over the top of yours, clenching both your hands together. “You think you know what you are getting yourself into, sweetheart, but you don’t,” he said, sternly staring you down.

“I know you, Five, and I am not scared.” Proving it, you moved your linked hands between your legs, his widened eyes following them down.

“Shit,” Five hissed as his fingertips skimmed across the moist satin covering you.

His cock twitched with excitement. 

Full erection coming in, five, four, three, two…

The line between his brows deepened and you were sure he was going to start arguing with you again, but then his lips crashed into yours. Ripping his hand away, the next thing you knew, both his hands were under your skirt. Forcefully grabbing your butt cheeks, he rolled you on top of him, driving your hips down as he ground the swell of his restrained manhood across your wet panties.

“Oh, dear God!” you cried out as he started vigorously dry fucking you, rocking you back and forth over his cock.

Swaying like a drunken sailor, your insides coiled tighter, your heartbeat thumping hard between your legs.

Dragging you forward and back again with rapid fire movements of his flexing forearms, Five grinned. “Since you're being such a bad girl tonight, the question is, should I stir your tonsils with my dick, like last night,” he questioned. “Or...should I finger fuck you until you can’t see straight, and then send you off to bed with a spanking for being so naughty?”

Stunned stupid by all the panty wetting things coming out of his wonderfully dirty mouth, you didn’t know what to say, so naturally, like the smug asshole Five was, he flopped back, casually throwing his hands behind his head, ending your pleasure ride to Humpity-Humpville.

“Five, please don’t stop!” you yelled, bouncing around on him like a child having a tantrum.

He rolled his eyes, and with how pathetically flustered you were, you couldn’t really blame him.

You covered your face, mumbling through your fingers. “I really want to slap you right now.”

He chuckled. “I’d be into that.”

You peeked at him. 

“Take your best shot. See what happens next, I dare you,” he added, looking even more pleased with himself.

Desperate to get him going again, but not so sure slapping was the way to do it, dropping your hands, you snuck one down, your fingers moving over the hot outline of his erection where it was trapped against his thigh.

Five’s eyes narrowed menacingly as your thumb softly circled the rounded silhouette of his thickly swollen tip. He whispered your name. “___, you should have run while you still had the chance.”

Heart hammering in your chest, your feet started sliding across the couch cushions, your hand moving away from your scary ex-temporal assassin boyfriend’s danger zone.

“Where do you think you are going?” he teased, snatching your wrist.

Your lips parted, but you didn’t get out a single peep.

Your skin tingled with static. Ripped into a blur of blinding light, suddenly, you were weightless, like you were at the top of a Ferris wheel, starting your quick, stomach dropping descent. Less than a second later, jarring you back into reality, the hardwood floor in your bedroom smacked beneath your feet.

The second you opened your mouth, it was covered by Five’s warm lips. He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. His demanding kisses moved along your cheek, then along your neck, and back up, where he nipped at your earlobe with the points of his teeth, the electrified pain of his little love bites amplifying the throbbing between your legs.

Dizzy but no longer from his jump, broken moans sang out of you as you swayed.

Nudging the side of your neck with his nose, Five let out a throaty sound of satisfaction as he worked your shirt up over your head, then unhooked your bra, letting both pieces of clothing fall at your feet. Tucking his hands under your butt, he launched you on the bed. Pouncing down next to you, he started placing a scattering of kisses across your thighs. Commanding all your senses, his hands moved up and down, tickling the backs of your thighs. He did that until he moved his teasing up under your skirt.

Moving right along, he pulled it down your legs, kicking it off your ankles with his feet. Pushing your knees to the side with his, he dropped over you. Bending his head to the side, he kissed the insides of your thighs, letting his tongue leisurely glide along, turning you into a trembling mess, his ridiculously soft hair brushing along to add to the blissful torment.

“Five, please!” you wailed as his mouth edged closer.

His breath danced over you a few agonizing seconds before he traced his tongue along the wet divide darkening panties.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

The warmth of Five’s smile spread against your folds as he hooked his fingers under the thin straps at your hips. Pulling your underwear down, he gave you a mischievous look filled with boyish delight, then he slingshot them across your bedroom.

Backing up to admire you, he said, “So perfect.” His cool eyes unabashedly drew an invisible line down your naked body, taking it all in at a leisurely pace. 

Working his tie loose, he whipped it to the floor with the growing pile of clothes.

You were already quivering in anticipation, but then his hand moved to his zipper, pulling it down. 

Freeing his cock, he gripped it in one fist.

His head cocked to the side, that wicked smirk of his never faltering as he started explaining the rules while shamelessly stroking himself. “If you want me to stop at any time, I will.” He lowered his chin slightly, his lust filled eyes never leaving yours. “If I do something you like, you need to let me know so I can keep doing it. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you nervously breathed. Your gaze lowered to the glistening tip of his cock where he was spreading his precum around, and around. “Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?” 

“Because you are,” he frankly replied. "We already covered this."

In a flash, he was on you, dastardly dick dangling out of his black dress pants, he sadistically tickled you, his fingers mercilessly digging into your sides.

Frantically laughing, you yelped, “Five, stop!” 

Yielding, he rolled most of his weight on the elbow he had positioned at your hip. Smiling innocently, he lowered his face, his lips closing around your nipple. Sucking it in his mouth, he circled it with his tongue.

The feeling of his mouth doing that, hit you right between the legs.

Squirming, you threw your head back into your pillows, panting. If you wanted more or less, at this point, you so weren’t sure.

Being really into boobs as he obviously was, Five had felt you up many times, but like him licking your panties, this was new. The erotic sensation of him worshiping your breasts in this way was like slowly dying to the backdrop of his soft sounds of contentment.

“Shhhhiiiitttttttt!” you hissed when his teeth unexpectedly pulled on your peaked flesh, tugging at an invisible rope that you hadn't realized was tied to every nerve ending in your body.

Pawing at his back, your declarations of nonsensical profanity got louder the greedier Five sucked on your tits. 

Your hands in his hair, fucking it up, eventually you got him to release the prized tit he’d been savoring, but his mouth stayed on you, trailing kisses south as his words buzzed against your skin. "You are so fun to play with,” he teased, his mouth pulling wide in a heartbreaker of a smile as he peeked at you.

Hands moving under your ass, possessively grasping your butt cheeks, he gave them each a quick pinch that made you jolt up against him.

You couldn’t even say more than a few unintelligible syllables after that because the next thing he said was with his lower lip purposefully pressed against your clit, his words vibrating straight through to your bones.

“Been dying to eat this pussy,” he mumbled.

“Ohhh-my-gah-fffff!” 

His tongue felt like it was searing you as it slipped across your clit. Wriggling it, he started licking you up and down.

“Does-tthsss-feel-goo?” he sloppily mouthed. 

“Feels-ss-samazing.”

Encouraged by that, or just trying to keep you stupidly panting nonsense, he sucked your clit into his mouth, treating the small nub of flesh the way he’d taught you to suck his cock. 

Losing your mind, you bucked your hips, forcing him to hold you down with a hand planted firmly at your waist. Happily lapping away, his other hand moved between your legs, his fingers just barely grazing across your slicked entrance.

You tensed. 

Five looked up, the familiar look of worry in his eyes, his swollen lips shimmering as they parted in question, “Are you sure about this?”

Doing your best to calm down, you nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly.

With the go ahead, watching your reactions carefully, Five circled just the tip of one finger around your entrance.

You whimpered and he did too.

At the feeling of the tip of his finger dipping inside, your body reactively clenched around it.

“I’m hurting you,” Five breathed, stopping the second he felt you tense again. 

“No. Keep-Keep going,” you insisted, trying so hard to make your body stop shivering.

With your breathy approval, his finger pulled back out, then sank back in, only all the way this time. You moaned from the feeling of him curling his knuckle, dragging the tip of his finger along your walls.

“Still good?” he asked, knowing all too well that you’d never been penetrated like this.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded again.

Five repeated the motion, eyes glued to the finger disappearing inside you. He let out a tiny moan that matched how you felt, then lowering his body down to the bed, he ran a line with his tongue up your slit.

“More. Like that," you said, gripping the back of his head.

The narrow bridge of Five’s nose rubbed against your pubic bone, that alone feeling so unbelievable good, then he started flicking his tongue against your clit.

That got you moaning so loud the entire block probably heard it.

Assured that you were ready for it, Five started thrusting his finger, hooking it with each outward drag.

Something in you felt like it bust.

You cried out.

Uncontrollably arching your pelvis into his face, Five’s magical tongue started working up and down, pressing and circling against your clit faster and faster.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, the balls of your feet digging into the bed until he rammed his shoulders into the backs of your thighs, forcing your legs wider.

Toes curling, your feet bouncing against his upper back, you were so close to the edge. It felt different than anytime you'd been balanced on the brink before, but you knew enough to recognize it was coming. Your cunt was already dripping on his hand and the bedspread, but when Five unexpectedly added a second finger, pushing them both all the way in, white hot light burned the bundle of nerves he was sucking. 

“Oh-ffff-faaah-ck!”

Tears prickled the corner of your eyes. His fingers kept moving, shoving in and out of you, hard and fast.

Stroking himself again, the tip of Five’s cock painted a line of wet heat against your leg.

With the sinful noises he was making, all mixing with his finger squelching in and out, and the sounds coming from your own gaping mouth, something had to give.

Your vision blurred. Your thighs tightened around his head probably suffocating him. A fractured groan tore out of his chest, but his tongue kept swirling, your shaking breaths growing shallower and shallower, then ceasing all together.

Your eyes slammed shut.

Pulses of your climax shook you from the inside out. You were free falling, drifting on the edge of something otherworldly and new, your entire body rendered useless.

You legs went limp.

His hands slowed, then stopped.

“Sweetheart?” 

“Hmmm?” you deliriously hummed. You opened one eye, looking down at Five nestled between your legs. His head was propped up on the hand he had been using to jerk off, and his hair was sticking up all over the place looking so cute.

He smiled. Slipping his fingers out, he brought them to his mouth, making a show of licking them clean. 

He looked so satisfied, yet there you were, the one who’s pussy was still pulsing with post orgasmic aftershocks.

You couldn’t believe him. Five was just…

Blown away with how sexy he looked, you crooked a finger at him.

You hadn’t seen him do it, but still noticeably hard, he'd tucked himself back in his briefs. Belt undone, pants hanging open, he crawled up next to you, making no attempt to do anything more than cuddle in next to you. 

He lowered his forehead to your shoulder, as if perfectly fine with leaving things as is, like making you feel good was all that mattered even though you could feel every long inch of him warm against your leg and his balls had to be feeling very blue.

Smoothing your hand around his neck, you caught the sharp angle of his jaw, forcing him to look at you. As you wove his chocolatey brown hair between your fingers, his eyes glazed over in pleasure. “Five…” you sweetly soothed, “Why did you stop when you’re-”

He kissed you, cutting you off. He looked so happy and sad at the same time as his eyes searched yours.

“Five… I love you…”

His throat clicked when he swallowed. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

He looked down.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I ruined this,” he quietly admitted.

Confused, you looked down too.

His hand brushed your cheek, and your eyes met again. “I don’t want to hurt you in any way,” he clarified, trying to smile.

You smiled too. “You won’t.”

You reached down, grasping his dick through his tented pants.

Your eyes moved down the length of his neck and he swallowed hard again. 

“Take off your clothes,” you ordered, giggling like an idiot over his intoxicated expression.

When you let go of him, doing as he was told, like he was still a good little solider, only no longer taking order from evil assholes, Five quickly shuffled out of his pants and underwear, then started unbuttoning his shirt.

Just watching him undress was hypnotic.

With not an ounce of fat on him, Five’s torso muscles formed a drool worthy ‘V’ shape directing your eyes downward. As if the sight of that wasn’t hot enough to scorch your brain, as soon as he shrugged his shirt off, full naked, you got to watch him pump his hand up and down his shaft a few times, a little bead of pre-cum beading up on the tip before it drizzled across his tightly clenched fingers.

“Five, you are so hot. You know that right?”

He let a self-depreciating laugh. “Yeah, right.”

Coming back to you on his hands and knees, dropping one hand on the bed to support himself, dick in his other hand, Five hovered over you.

“I’m ready, Five.”  You’d already said it, but he must have needed to hear it again because he didn’t make another move until he heard it.

Lining himself up, already looking distraught over the feeling of gilding his tip across your entrance, Five's voice quivered so unbelievably sweetly as he said, "You need to promise me if it gets be too much you’ll tell me.”

With the feel of him thick and heavy, resting against your hole as he waited for your answer, you bobbed your head, promising him you would.

He sucked in a breath.

Bracing yourself as he gently slipped in just his tip, your hands curled around his biceps.

You tried to hold it in, but you whimpered, and it was enough to give him pause.

“Fuck you are tight,” Five gasped, flipping his head back, trying to get his hair out of his eyes so he could concentrate on your face. “Are you okay?” he asked, not moving at all.

“Feels really big, but you are big,” you breathed in little puffs, trying to make him smile and make your body relax, so your walls could stretch around him. He still didn’t move. “Keep going, it feels good,” you pushed.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m shhh-sure.”

Hyperfocused, Five continued, sinking himself into you with shallow thrusts, only taking more when he slipped inside you without having to force it. Letting your body accept him at its own pace, his eyes looking into yours, your souls were becoming one. Opening you, he took your virginity with all the gentleness and love you had expected of him. 

“You feel so good,” Five agitatedly growled as his thrusts became slightly faster. “You like it like this?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Thrilled to hear it, capturing your lips with his, he kissed you with an urgency that matched the increasingly jolting movements of his hips. 

When your elbows slipped, laying you flat, Five buried his face against your breasts, passionately licking and sucking on them instead.

“Such a good girl. That's right. Fuck yourself on my cock," he praised when you started rocking your hips in rhythm with his.

When he sat up, eyeing the movement of his cock slipping in and out of you, you could have died, but then, doing you one more, he grabbed your hips, pulling you down the bed towards him.

Bottoming out hard, he held you down against the bed. Grinding into you, his eyes rolled back, and his mouth gaped.

Coming to his senses, he saw you clinging to the sheets and he instantly eased back. Falling down over you again, his open mouth at your neck, he started covering you with repentant kisses mixed with breathless apologies. “I’m sorry. That was too much. So sorry…”

Running your hands reassuringly through his hair you shushed him and rocked your hips into him hard as you could, trying to replicate what he’d done.

He lifted his head.

Like a man possessed, he quickly raised your legs around his waist, repositioning you. Helping him, you locked your feet around his lower back. Hooking his arms under your knees, Five’s powerful hips started colliding into you.

“You’re mine now,” he growled before he started wildly kissing your neck.

Hot skin slapping skin, your headboard banged into the wall in a cadence that matched him how he was rapidly fucking into you.

His breathless pants spilled out of him as he worked the head of his cock back and forth, aiming for something inside you that coiled tighter and tighter the longer he focused his efforts on it.

“Come on, baby, come for me again…need to feel…need you,” he chanted, his kisses getting sloppier until you felt nothing but his bowed head against your shoulder.

You were so close already, all it took was Five lifting your hips, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed back into you, repeating the pounding motion with grunted curses punctuating each thrust.

The change in momentum set you off.

It was explosive. Throbbing with pulsing waves of euphoria drowning you, you released on his cock, with clenching spasms rocking you to the core.

“Did you?” Five frantically questioned, pulling his sweat covered forehead up. His dark gaze ran over your reddened face, his eyes softened at the sight of your trembling lips. 

Getting confirmation that he’d done it, trying to sit up, he started to pull out.

Forcing your jelly-like legs to function, you held onto him, refusing to let him get away.

“I want all of you,” you whimpered.

For a sex God, he somehow looked so unsure of himself. “I’m yours, always,” he promised.

“I want you to cum inside of me, Five. I want all of you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” 

Letting out a strangled groan that turned hiss of determination, his hips snapped into you violently, extending your orgasm as your pussy milked spurting gushes of his seed from his throbbing cock. 

The force behind Five’s hips melted away with each stuttered thrust. Filling you until he had nothing left, his eyes fluttering closed, his dark lashes fanned his smooth pale cheeks. He looked like an angel.

Entranced by how beautiful he was, your eyes glistened.

His breaths slowing, Five finally opened his eyes. That sweet smile you loved crept to his lips. Gently, he pulled out, the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and the loss of his spent cock were enough to make your body start quivering all over again, shivering from head to toe.

“Was that okay? Are you okay,” he asked, looking concerned.

“More than okay,” you happily sighed.

He quirked a brow at you. “You're not just saying that to stroke my ego?”

Shaking your head, you laughed. There was no way he didn’t know that was amazing and you were more than happy to stroke anything he wanted you to stroke.

Leaning in, kissing you slow and soft, his hand tickling down your belly. Lips pulling away from yours, he glanced down. His sleepy smile suddenly gone.

You sat up a little, looking between your legs at the bed.

A light pink tinged the white sheets. 

“Are you sore? I- I didn’t realize-” Running his hand back through his hair, Five looked so heartbreakingly distraught, but he’d done nothing wrong.

You could feel a slight ache where he’d been, but it wasn’t painful. “No pain,” you said. “I feel nothing but you, Five. I love you so much.”

The burn of tears prickled your eyes again. 

His soft green eyes glistened too. “I’ll be right back,” he said, timidly smiling.

He could have blinked himself to the bathroom, but he didn’t. Letting you check out his bare ass, disheveled and cute as ever, he sprinted across the room to the bathroom, coming back a second or two later with two towels.

Carefully cleaning you up, and then the bed, he laid the unused towel over the spot you’d been laying, then he laid back down over it, pulling you in next to him.

After covering you both with the duvet, his warm fingers started tracing up and down your spine. 

Basking in the afterglow of what you’d done together, your mind and heart were filled with nothing but him. You had no worries or fears.

You were almost too exhausted to move, your body undeniably his to hold however he wished.

Lulled by the magic of Five’s featherlight touch, you couldn’t be happier, but then suddenly you felt him shifting away.

Opening your droopy lids, he gave you one of his affectionate little smiles, and seeing it, you immediately began to slip away again. “You better not take off on me when I fall asleep,” you teased.

Rolling you over so he could make you into his little spoon, Five rested his face against your neck. His feet twisted around yours.

“I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

You smiled. 

You already knew he wasn’t.

“I loved you too, by-the-way. Not sure if I said that,” he playfully added.

Your chest moved up and down with a silent laugh. 

You already knew that too, and he knew very well why he hadn’t let himself say it until now.

He was scared to letting anyone see who he really was. But for you, Five finally let go.

He was ready. Ready for a life filled with love that was not just one-sided.

With you, for the first time, everything about this was real.

He kissed the shell of your ear, whispering your name. “___, I love you.”

Warm and safe in his embrace, penetrated by his love, it felt like anything was possible.

Thinking of your future together, you squeezed his hand against your heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There it is. Stir that into your eggnog. 😂

I wish you all peace and love, whatever that means to you.

And thanks for asking for this one anon. After writing this, now I'm even more ruined by this amazing fictional man.

❤️ Breezy

Link to easily view all my Five related Tumblr story and art posts

Link to my Master List

Lint to visit me direct on A03

[animangalover-writes]

Just listened to "A Part of me" in the Dear Evan Hansen bonus tracks, and OOF, imagining the song being about everyone finding what Billy hargrove went through but only AFTER he died. Everyone wondering if they could have helped him in some way. Max being Zoe with their similar parallels. Hopper thinking about seeing Billy with bruises and just thinking he was just a troublemaker only to realize afterwards that Neil was doing that to him. Joyce wondering how she didn't see the signs whenever he'd come in to by cigarettes with a busted lip or black eye. The two of them both wondering what they could have done differently to help him, because he was just a kid. Even Eddie Munson, who could have been Billy's only real friend, or Heather Holloway(if she lived), who genuinely mourn him and wish they could have done something. Steve being Evan, when he makes a speech about Billy, a kid he was just starting to be friends with, that gains he a lot of praise and popularity. Except unlike Evan, he doesn't want it, hates it even. Someone, a guy(Eddie or Steve or anyone else) who was secretly dating him. Who goes to Max because she is the only person in his family that really cared about him, and aims to tell her that Billy was gay, just so she holds that secret part of him close to her heart. And before they say it, she tells them, "You make me feel closer to him." And they realize it's not their secret to tell, and that that secret will follow him to the grave. That he will never be allowed to truly own that part of himself, even in death. And Billy's ghost, watching the interaction at the end, with a solemn look on his face, knowing that some people are using his death for pity points, and knowing that most people never really knew him, and now they never will.

[monstersflashlight]

Hi me again here |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ

Loved your little piece about the forest entity, so you'd make me very happy with a second part :)

Tentacles and forest monsters are just soo good <3

So yeah, I'll keep looking and loving your writing, thanks for all your amazing work ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Hi! Thank you so much for your compliments, that’s so sweet! Here you have it a little bit of filth <3 Part 1 is here, if someone needs a refresher.

Plant toy

Forest entity x fem!human || tentacles (vines), bondage, edging, oral sex, double penetration, gagging, nipple clamps

You had no idea what compelled you into going back to the forest, but there you were, wearing a skimpy outfit and walking around without any reason. You felt stupid, but also a bit excited. A bit turned on. The opportunity of finding the forest entity that fucked you too good to pass. You wanted a repeat… Well, more like you needed a repeat.

In the past couple weeks since it happened, you couldn’t think of anything else, your brain was completely stuck on him. (You didn’t miss the joke about being stuck on a tree-hole just to end up being stuck on a forest entity). Every second of every day you wanted to feel him again, to feel those vines and roots against your body, constricting your movements and leaving you at his mercy.

It was exhilarating, but the memory was not enough anymore. You burned down the batteries on two of your sex toys and had not enough energy to keep looking for more fun ways to get yourself off. Nothing was as good as the vines, nothing was as good as him.

So there you were, getting lost in the forest. On purpose this time.

You wandered for what felt like hours, until your body was tired and your anticipation dissipated into a more real sense of fear. You didn’t know where you were, if he didn’t show up at some point you’d be lost in the forest without a way to find your way back. You felt like you were walking in circles, unable to see anything as the sun started to set. Real panic started to fill your insides.

“You are lost and scared once again, but this time you have done this to yourself… Why?” His voice startled you, and you screamed. As you turned around, the vision of his strange face calmed you completely. He was there. He came for you.

A rush of adrenaline filled your body and your panties got wet. Fuck, that ethereal voice was messing with your libido big time. “I- I was looking for you.” You told him, voice caught in your throat as some vines and roots bloomed from the ground beneath your feet and lifted your body, undressing you in the process.

“For me? Why?” His utter confusion would have been cute if you weren’t suspended in the air with wines holding your arms and legs apart.

“I don’t know.” That was a weak ass response and you knew it. He tilted his head to the side like he was trying to decipher your whole soul with a look. Maybe he was doing exactly that, how would you know. “Okay, okay… I- I wanted a repeat,” you confessed in a murmur.

“Of what, human?” His uncanny features made your insides twist and turn, but also made you even more curious to know more about him. “There’s no balance to be restored now. Are you making a free offer to the forest?” He added. You didn’t think of that. You didn’t think of anything apart from getting fucked again. You were so dumb. Your face flushed at the acknowledgment that you got lost on purpose just to get fucked by vines. How freaky was that?

“I- Yes! Yes. That’s it,” you agreed, without really knowing what that would entitle. “I want… I want you to do that again… with the vines.” Your face burned as you said it.

Said vines took on their own and started caressing your body, like he wasn’t controlling them, as if they were a living organism on their own. That filled you with an unsettled feeling, but part of you liked that thought. Part of you wanted to be at the mercy of some mindless plant organism.

He turned around, not looking at you. Disappointed had a sour taste against your mouth. “I see…” He was leaving. He was leaving you there without even looking twice at you. Without an explanation.

“Wait! Are you going to leave me here?” You asked, panicked. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. The spike of fear mixed with anticipation and arousal, leaving you breathless.

“I need to retrieve something, I’ll be back.” Just as he was saying that, some more vines appeared in front of you and stuff your mouth until you couldn’t answer back, like a plant gag.

He left you there, mouth stuffed with vines and your body suspended in the air by plant-acles (plant tentacles?). As soon as he disappeared, the vines took a turn. More vines and roots appeared around you, touching you. Caressing every inch of your body. The ones in your mouth started thrusting into your throat until you were gagging and salivating around them. It felt like the messiest blowjob of your life as some more vines and roots caressed your nipples and clit. It was exhilarating.

But they wouldn’t finish you. The tentacles around you played with your sensitive areas, pinching, caressing, sucking… You were thrown against the edge a thousand times, but they never let you cross it. The vines moved and caressed around you, tightening and releasing parts of your body. It was maddening, the unfulfilled pleasure was driving you completely insane. Over and over for what felt like hours but was probably less than twenty minutes, the vines edged you until every caress felt like it was going to make you explode. But it didn’t. They didn’t let you.

When he reappeared in front of you, you could have sobbed. If you weren’t already crying because of the overstimulation and the edging. Tears ran freely down your face, mixing with the drool around the plant-gag fucking your throat. You felt used. And you enjoyed it, like the little pervert you were.

He looked at you for a few seconds, “I shouldn’t have left them unsupervised. My apologies, human.” His apology sounded a lot like a non-apology. He wasn’t sorry at all, he consciously left you there with wild vines edging you, the little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth was answer enough. “I found the compass.” You didn’t know what he was talking about, but the vines wouldn’t stop moving and you felt ready to explode. You wanted to scream at him, to beg him to end the torture to your senses and let you come. But he kept talking. “Now you would be able to find me,” he explained. He looked at you expecting an answer you were unable to provide. “Oh, the vines…” He moved his hand and the vines fucking your throat retracted.

You breathed deep before chanting: “Please, please, please…” You were unable to form any more words as you screamed and begged for release. “Please let me come. Pleaseeeee!”

“It’s okay, human. I’m here,” he told you softly.

His words sounded ominous, and maybe you should have trusted your instincts because before you realized, the vines around you were morphing and moving. Some of them constricted around your nipples, acting as improvised nipple clamps as he approached step by step to your naked and restricted body. He stood there for a few seconds, admiring his vine work.

And then, he raised his hand and you cried out. For the first time ever, he touched you. His fingers caressed the skin of your abdomen and made a trail lower and lower… When his finger touched your clit, you screamed at the top of your lungs. “None of that, you don’t want to bother the little animals, do you?” He didn’t give you time to react, he conjured a new vine around your head and gagged you.

That wasn’t the only new vine, soon enough there was one curling around your leg, approaching your center. He cooed at you when you whimpered, shushing you as he caressed your hair softly, his other hand still circling your clit.

The tender gesture was such a contrast with the sexual torture he was inflicting on your poor human body. You were dizzy by it. It was maddening. And when the vine pushed into your hungry cunt, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You groaned and moaned as he kept fucking you restlessly.

You were lost in the pleasure he was giving you. So lost that the first touch of a vine against your asshole caught you off guard. You tried to scream, but he wasn’t having any of that. The gag around your mouth pressed harder as you whimpered around it. You were breathing so hard you feared hyperventilation, but his soft touches to your side kept you focused. Bit by bit, the vine pushed inside your asshole until it was fully seated.

And just like that, it began. In perfect sync, the vines inside your pussy and ass started fucking you. It was better than anything you’d ever felt. It was so much more than you thought you could take. But he didn’t ask, he gave and you took.

He was looking at you with such intensity you felt hyperaware of every twitch, every groan and every bit of saliva you let out around the gag. But he still didn’t let you come.

“Just a bit more, human, you are doing great,” his voice was soft as he moved his hands to direct the vines around your body. In and out. In and out. They fucked you in tandem as he looked at you like you were his prize.

His encouragements were making you see stars and a thousand different lights behind your eyes. The assault to your senses so deep and profound you didn’t know how to feel anymore. You didn’t know if it was too much, if it was too little. You could only feel the vines moving in and out of your holes, the stretch and pressure of it against all your sensitive spots.

“Come for me human, give me your offering.” Like a magic word, you exploded on a thousand pieces as your body melted against the vines, a splash of your juices showering everything around you. “That’s, such a good human for me.” That was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.

You woke up next to your car, re-dressed and with a shiny compass next to you.

[shadowkoo]

Oh Brother

→ Summary: Things are bound to get messy when you fuck your brother’s best friend repeatedly. Better not get caught, for both of your sakes.

↠ jungkook x f.reader | 1.8k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college au, pwp

→ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex, dirty bathroom quickie, flashbacks to hooking up the night before, koo fucks you hard from behind, riding on his fingers, sloppy handjob, i think that’s it but let me know if i missed any!!

→ Author Note: soooooo part 2 coming soon 👀 what do we think?

“You didn’t say Jungkook was coming,” you say nervously after noticing him with the rest of your friend group at the bar. Fuck.

Your brother gives you a weird look, “Since when is that an issue? You’ve always gotten along with ‘Kook.”

You attempt to relax your shoulders and do your best to look as innocent as possible.

“Did something happen? Did he do something to you?” Jaemin quizzes you, failing to hide his ‘concerned brother’ act.

“No…Of course not!” Phantom kisses on your neck remind you that your statement couldn’t be farther from the truth. Jungkook did more than something to you last night, the faint bruises on your inner thighs and the soreness you feel today prove just how much he did…

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook immediately notices that his best friend has arrived with his ‘off-limits’ sister. Though you weren’t so off-limits last night…

Holding your stare, his lip curls up just the slightest into a very familiar smirk, one that he knows happens to drive you crazy.

“Hey man, we missed you last night,” Jaemin says, going in for the typical half-hug all guys do for whatever reason.

“Bro, no you didn’t,” Jungkook jokes, “You might’ve had an actual chance with the ladies since I took off so soon.”

“Fuck you,” Jaemin laughs, “I’m gonna grab a drink, you guys want anything?”

Jungkook lifts the beer bottle in his hand, “I’m good.”

“Same here, I’ll grab one when I’m, uh… ready.” Jungkook hasn’t stopped looking at you yet, causing you to stumble over your words.

Jaemin squints at the two of you, “You’re both acting so weird today.”

Jungkook tenses beside you, his body going stiff for just a moment, but his expression remains unreadable, refusing to spill any of the secrets swirling beneath the surface. It's as if he's mastered the art of control, locking away whatever turmoil or guilt threatens to slip through. Yet, the subtle clench of his jaw and the tightness in his posture tell you there’s more simmering just beneath his calm exterior.

“Kinda feels like an off-day,” he says, trying to play it cool. “Remind me to stick the next party out, will you?”

Jaemin’s normal smile returns. “Yeah because we both know how well you listen to me. I’ll be back in a bit. Relax, have some fun,” he says to you, knowing that you’ll try to find an empty corner to claim as your own sooner rather than later.

“So what then,” Jungkook starts when your brother is just out of earshot, “Are we going to pretend that last night never happened?”

“Wouldn’t that be the smart thing to do?”

“No.”

“No?” You’re surprised at his answer.

He pulls you aside, out of the eye of everyone you know, and kisses you hard. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” You don’t answer so he kisses you again, this time his tongue lingers on yours.

“Is that what you want?” he says after pulling back.

“No,” you breathe.

“Then tell me,” he urges, pushing you up against the wall, “What is it that you want, Y/N?”

You’re the one that pulls him in for another gut-twisting kiss this time. But it’s short-lived.

“What do you want,” he urges again, his hands gripping your sides causing your insides to melt all over.

“I want this,” you whine, running your hand over the front of his jeans, feeling his length pressing hard against the ungiving material, “I want you.”

“I could get used to hearing that,” he growls in your ear as he pulls you towards the bathroom that’s just around the corner.

His words trigger an instant flashback to last night, pulling you back to the moments that still cling to your mind. The thick tension, the rushing adrenaline, the way everything had unraveled so quickly—it all comes rushing back. 

Jungkook’s rough fingers tease your opening, gliding across your warmth with ease.

“Mmm. I could get used to this,” he smirks, enjoying the pleasure painted on your face as you lay sprawled out on your bed.

He hasn’t got a clue how he ended up this lucky. Just a few minutes ago he was hiding from a one-night-stand gone wrong, and now here he is, doing the unimaginable with his best friend’s little sister.

Though you aren’t so ‘little’ anymore, college has made sure of that.

Gone are the awkward haircuts, the childish features, and the gangly limbs that once defined you. In their place stands someone entirely transformed—sharp cheekbones, full lips (that are gorgeously parted right now), and an air of quiet confidence that wasn’t there before.

Your eyes, once wide with innocence, now hold a depth and intensity that speak of naughty experiences; experiences that now define a certain sparkle he discovers once he curls his fingers inside of you.

“Well don’t. This isn’t going to end well. You and I both know it,” you pant as his lips trail lower and lower along your bare chest until he’s hovering above your hardening nipples.

This is such a bad idea…

“Does that matter?” He questions, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“Shouldn’t it?” You lean up on your elbows to look at him.

He pulls back to return your gaze, “It’s not like anyone has to know. Are you going to tell?” His voice is low, almost a whisper, daring you to break the silence hanging between you. The weight of his question lingers in the air, thick with the unspoken consequences.

You shake your head, but it feels like more than just an answer—it’s a surrender. No, you’re not going to tell. You can’t. The secret is now yours to keep forever, whatever happens tonight is just between the two of you.

“Exactly, so can we continue?”

This time, you nod, a hint of mischief curling at the edges of your lips. What’s the harm in indulging in a little secret fun? The thrill of keeping something just for yourselves sends a rush through you, making the moment feel even more electrifying.

There’s a rebellious allure in the secrecy, a temptation in knowing no one else has to find out. Your pulse quickens at the thought, excitement mingling with the danger of being caught, but you push that aside. 

Right now, it feels too good to care.

He gently lifts a hand to cup your cheek, his touch warm and tender. His lips brush against yours in a soft, fleeting kiss that lingers just long enough to stir something inside you. But then it deepens, growing more intense, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as the kiss intensifies. The fluttering in your stomach turns into a full rush of adrenaline, making your pulse race as you lean into him, lost in the moment.

“Wait,” you say in between his kisses, “Won’t they miss you down at the party?”

Jungkook chuckles as he pulls back once again, “They think I left to avoid Raina. And yes, before you ask, I’ll sneak out after. Now do you want to keep going, or should I leave now?”

“Don’t you dare leave,” you say, pulling him into another quick kiss, “I want this. I want you.”

Jungkook works his way back down your body, leaving warm kisses on your breasts, down your stomach, only to stop just above the waistband of your panties. His fingers slide underneath the fabric and linger where they once were. He looks up at you for permission to touch you again, which you quickly grant in need of feeling him feeling you.

You reach for him as his fingers dip into you, stretching you for what is to come. Jungkook hisses as your cold hand slips into his boxers, tugging on his half-hard length. Your lips move to his neck when he adds another finger inside of you, your head feeling fuzzy from the growing knot in your stomach. His mouth presses hard against yours as he flips you over so you’re on top of his hips. The perfect position for you to grind into his quickening fingers.

“Take this off,” he whispers, pulling at the back of your bra until it unhooks. Once rid of the lacy piece, he moves to your panties. Stripping off your final layers of clothing, you bare yourselves before climbing back into each other’s arms.

Jungkook’s kisses turn lazy as your body moves along on his girth, his breath catching in the back of his throat at how wonderful your wet center feels against his hardening length. Perching above him, you align yourselves before lowering slowly onto him.

The deep groan that leaves his lips could have been enough to send you over the edge just then. Especially as his arms encircle around your back while you bounce on him, throwing your head back at how good this feels, despite how bad it is that you’re fucking your brother’s best friend. 

None of that matters right now.

Jungkook flips you over and lifts your ass in the air so he can take you from behind. You have zero complaints. Clenching around his thick, throbbing member, your inner walls pulsate with each deep thrust. 

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you pant, “Right there, please. Right there!”

His member stretches your insides as he continues to pound into you from behind, filling you in the best way possible, expanding parts of you that you didn’t know could. His thrusts meet you with perfect precision and accuracy, bringing you so close to that edge again.

One of his hands wraps around your front, and the small circles he rubs in between your legs are exactly what you need. The coil snaps, sending you over the edge and into a spiral of hot pleasure, Jungkook following right behind you.

You lay there catching your breath while listening to each other’s beating hearts, ignoring the sounds of the party lingering on outside your bedroom door as you drift into a well-needed sleep. Tomorrow you can deal with the whole brother’s best friend thing.

The recent memory fades as you’re brought back to the present where Jungkook has you in a small, and probably hazardous, dingy bar bathroom. His lips replace the phantom kisses you felt earlier as he lifts you onto the sink counter.

“Hurry,” you whine while quickly undoing his jeans, silently praying that none of your friends notice the sudden absence of you and him. Hoping the shadows and noise of the crowd will keep your escape unnoticed. The last thing you need is for anyone to start asking questions, or worse, to catch on to what’s happening.

You prepare yourself for the good time you know is coming, and grip the sink tightly so you don’t crash into the mirror behind you from his powerful thrusts.

The bathroom door opens suddenly, and a pissed-off-looking Jaemin is standing there. His eyes drift to you sitting on the bathroom sink with your dress hiked up, then to Jungkook, standing in between your open, exposed legs, with his jeans loosened around his waist.

Jaemin’s face flushes crimson, the fury unmistakable as his eyes lock onto the scene unfolding before him. His fists clench at his sides, every muscle in his body tensing with barely contained rage. 

Across from him, Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, the tension crackling in the air around them.

“Oh brother….”

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[gotta-winwin]

(🪽) ... to the stars

⭐ starring: jeonghan

🪽preview: “I love you, angel.” He whispered, pressing a light kiss against your lips when you finally found the courage to let him go. He hesitated, face inches from yours, as if he was debating whether or not to go in for a second kiss. He retracted in the end, standing up straight and grabbing his various bags. He knew that if he kissed you a second time, he’d lose all self control and you’d end up in bed with your clothes off, and him, very late. 

“I’ll be back soon!” He called as he entered the car, a smiling Seungcheol waving to you as he helped Jeonghan bring his bags in. “Don’t die because you miss me too much!” 

The last thing you see before they drive off is Jeonghan’s dazzling smile, his shining eyes and his clean cut hair.

tw/cw: talk of the "e" word, oral f!receiving, manhandling, surprise sex, jeonghan gets buff after training, mention of female + male parts, jeonghan goes kinda feral, overstim!

🪽rating: 18+ | word count: 2.1k

☁️ masterlist & a/n: i really can't believe it's only been two months since jeonghan enlisted it feels like FOREVER and WAY TOO LONG. also - first try at full on smut so...was giggling while writing this i had way too much fun. let me know how ya'll feel! smut starts in ch 4

MINORS DNI

if you don't like it, don't interact!

(🪽)

The dreaded “e-word” has haunted both you and Jeonghan since the start of your relationship. The stupid prospect of enlistment gnawed at both your insides, like an impending doomsday clock - ticking, ticking away at your time together. 

Maybe you were being dramatic - but if tour was painful for the two of you, enlistment would surely kill. 

“At least one good thing came out of me injuring my shoulder.” Jeonghan quipped, stretching lazily over your legs as you laid in bed. “I’ll be on duty, but I get to go home every night.” He stared up at you with playful eyes. “It’ll basically be a nine to five, after my basic training is complete.” 

Returning the playful look, you scrunched your nose, relishing the last few days with him next to you. “I guess.” You hummed, reaching a hand to run your fingers through his long hair. You’d be seeing his precious locks go tomorrow, and the loss felt like losing a baby. You had basically raised his perfect, luscious hair yourself - a handful of his hair products being yours. You’d miss picking out his monthly hair colors as well. (Red hair Jeonghan was by far still your greatest achievement).

“Don’t be sad, angel.” He closed his eyes as you massaged his hair, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. “It’s not like I’m leaving forever.” 

“You’re not very upset about it.” You pouted, feeling slighted by the way he seemed so unbothered. “You must think you’re not going to miss me very much, Hannie.” Your tone was teasing and light, although the insecurity was very much real. 

“I am going to miss you.” He admitted, squinting open an eye to look at you. “Don’t twist my words.” 

Jeonghan fell silent when you didn’t reply, hands still absentmindedly threading themselves through his hair. He watched you with careful eyes, knowing your nerves were frayed from enlistment stress. More like the absence of Jeonghan stress, he thought bitterly. He hated leaving you as much as you hated him leaving. 

“You should just move in.” 

Your next words caught him off guard as he looked up at you, blinking. It was rare to catch Jeonghan speechless. Usually equipped with witty comebacks, Jeonghan’s silence worried you as you sat up straight, moving him off your lap. “It’s just an idea.” Your voice shrank, knowing it was a big move. You hadn’t been dating for very long - two years - but still, not long enough to guarantee a move in. 

Having been nudged off your legs, Jeonghan sat up. “You think I should?” He asked, grabbing your hand and enveloping it in his.

You nodded.

“I guess it makes sense.” He had a coy smile on his face as he inwardly cooed at your shyness. “Then I’ll get to see your pretty face everyday instead of Seungkwan.”

“A much better upgrade.” You quipped at the younger boy’s expense, nodding along, big question jitters disappearing. “And half of your stuff is already here anyways.” 

“I love you.” He suddenly blurted out, although it sounded so beautifully normal and welcomed. His ears turned red, having not expected himself to say what he was thinking out loud. 

“I love you too, Hannie.”

(🪽🪽)

“If you mess up my hair I’m leaving you.” 

Frowning extra hard at his words, you steadied yourself, clippers at the ready as you analyzed his black locks. “If you don’t trust me you should’ve gone to your stylist.” You chided, pushing back a mop of his hair - rather roughly in retaliation. 

Whining, he glared at you through the mirror. “Brute.” He mumbled under his breath, a little apprehensive about agitating you further. You were the one with the clippers, after all. 

“Stop glaring at me or I’ll render you bald.” You threatened, eyeing him in challenge, the clippers in your hand coming to life as you began. “Hold still.” 

There was something strangely emotional about the whole process, as you watched tufts of Jeonghan’s hair fall to the ground around you. At least he didn’t have to get it super short - you really might have cried then - although the ceremonious feeling of it all still brought unwanted tears to your eyes. 

“It’ll grow back.” His quiet voice reminded you, pouting when he saw your glistening eyes and the way you were staring at his hair. “It’s not permanent.” 

“I know.” You mumbled, running your hands through his now short hair, more tears threatening to spill over when it just didn’t feel the same as before. “Let me mourn.” 

He laughed, although you saw him staring at himself in the mirror, his own eyes melancholic and equally wet. “Sometimes I think you’re only dating me for my hair.”

Pursuing your lips, you bit back a smile. “It’s definitely a plus.”

(🪽🪽🪽)

You had always hated long goodbyes.

They seemed too fruitless, so unnecessary and awkward to execute. You had always been a strong believer of a quick wave, a brief hug, or perhaps a quick exchange of pleasantries. 

However, once it was time to say goodbye to Jeonghan as he stood, packed and ready for his mandatory training camp, you wished goodbyes could last forever. 

“You’re going to have to let me go someday.” Jeonghan’s voice was muffled as he spoke through your hair. 

Your hold around him only tightened at his words, arms looping firmly around his neck. You inhaled, breathing him in - the light scent of pomegranates and the ocean tide. “Please don’t go.” It sounded pathetic, the way your voice broke near the end, but a part of you felt like maybe he wasn’t going to come back. Stupid. You chided yourself. Of course he’ll come back. 

“You’re going to make me cry.” Jeonghan mumbled, pulling you into him tighter - although it was nearly impossible, with the way you were already pressed up against him. He bit the insides of his cheek, holding back the tears because he knew someone had to keep it together during this goodbye - and it wasn’t going to be you. Burrowing his face deeper into your nape, he wished selfishly there was a way for him not to leave. Holding you tighter, he knew that if there was a way to crawl inside you and live there - he would. “I’ll write to you.” He promised.

It was a silly idea with the existence of technology, but Jeonghan was adamant to hand write his letters while serving - something about it being more personable. It’ll give you something to look forward to, he explained, although you told him that him coming home was enough. The letters were just as sweet though. 

“I love you, angel.” He whispered, pressing a light kiss against your lips when you finally found the courage to let him go. He hesitated, face inches from yours, as if he was debating whether or not to go in for a second kiss. He retracted in the end, standing up straight and grabbing his various bags. He knew that if he kissed you a second time, he’d lose all self control and you’d end up in bed with your clothes off, and him, very late. 

“I’ll be back soon!” He called as he entered the car, a smiling Seungcheol waving to you as he helped Jeonghan bring his bags in. “Don’t die because you miss me too much!” 

The last thing you see before they drive off is Jeonghan’s dazzling smile, his shining eyes and his clean cut hair. 

(🪽🪽🪽🪽)

You would have compared him to a feral animal - the way he pounced on you upon his arrival home. 

“I missed you so fucking much, angel.” He groaned, arms pulling you against him without warning, giving you no time to register his appearance. 

“Hannie.” His name came out as more of a moan as his fingers dipped, drifting towards the band of your sweats and delving under. “When- when did you get home?” 

“Got to leave earlier than expected.” He mumbled against your neck, thoroughly distracted by the way you were softening under his grasp. He had forgotten how beautiful you looked, falling apart at his fingertips. “Been waiting.” He gasped out, pulling your hair so his lips could meet yours. “No idea how much I missed you.” 

“Hannie.” His name was all you could say, all you could even think about. His every being enveloped your senses as you felt your back press up against the hallway wall. “Hannie.”

“Yes, angel?” He dipped to his knees, gazing up at you with the coy smile you had missed so much. “Tell me what you want.”

“You, Hannie.” You whined, and you knew it was embarrassing how fast you were complying. “Want - need you.” 

He let out a breathy chuckle, holding you by your thighs and pulling your sweats and underwear off in one fluid motion. You didn’t miss the tiny whimper that fell quietly from his lips - finally face to face with the sweet pussy he had dreamed of each night after training. It had tortured him, not being able to feel you, to hold you, to see you. Military training had taught him a lot of things - although the greatest lesson he took away was how much of a privilege you were. Losing access to both you and the pussy that always took him so well had been maddening. 

He paused, smirking when you bucked into his hand, impatient. 

“Hurry up, Hannie.” You scolded, half annoyed but mostly pleading. “Hannie.” 

As if the repeat of his name had woken him up from the daze he had found himself under - some spell, Jeonghan glanced up at you with hooded eyes before diving in, tongue working against your folds. It was obscene, the wet sounds coming from you, mixed with his pants and muffled groans. He all but buried himself into your heat - fulfilling his wish of crawling inside of you - in the most perverted yet terribly arousing way. 

The sounds of both satisfaction and pleasure coming from you only spurred him on, eating you out with one goal in mind: to make you finish, to finally drown himself in your scent after two long weeks without you next to him.

“Fuck- Hannie.” The only coherent words falling from your lips was a long string of curses, followed by a loud whine of his name. “I’m gonna - fuck.” 

You felt the mess before you saw it, as you gripped his hair for leverage, legs shaking as you steadied yourself against the wall. A gush of release spurted from you, coating his face as he lapped, unbothered by the slick. 

“Hannie -” Legs shaking, threatening to collapse, you pushed at his head. “Too much-” 

It was like he was trying to devour you whole. 

“Hannie-” You cried out, cumming again - a visceral reaction from the amount of attention his tongue was giving to your cunt and the constant stimulations from his nose bumping against your clit. 

He finally looked up as he drank the last drops of juice from your pussy, eyes shining in satisfaction as he smirked up at you. “Did you miss me?” 

You were glad his cockiness had not escaped him during his military training. Tugging harshly at his hair, you all but collapsed into his arms, pressing a feathery light kiss against the side of his neck. “You beast.” You mumbled, earning a loud laugh from him as he moved you both to the living room, wiping his face with a cloth before coming to clean you. 

It was then that you finally got to get a good look at him. You laid on the couch, eyes following his every movement as he wiped in between your legs with his usual gentle and care. 

He was built. Stronger, somehow broader and more defined then you remembered him being. His shoulders and arms flexed as he worked, and you caught a sight of his carved thighs and the damp tent in his pants as he stood up, leaving to throw the now sullied cloth away. 

“Hannie?” You called after him, feeling your desire return just by the glimpses of his new physique. 

“Yes, angel?” His head poked out from the doorway, returning next to you as he lay down, once again situating himself in between your legs. His nose bumped against yours as he looked at you with gentle, loving eyes - a straight contrast to the callouses, rough hands that were now roaming your chest.

“What did mandatory training do to you?” You asked, running a hand down his arm and squeezing his bicep. “Did they like- make you pull cars or something?” 

His hands went self-consciously to grab his own biceps, a large hand covering yours as he blushed. “No, it was just a lot of working out.” He smiled, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “What? You like what you see?”

“Very, very much.” You admitted, liking how he basked under the praise. “Not that I didn’t like your body before- but this is…” You paused, trying to find the right word to describe the delectable human being sitting in front of you that you knew could ruin you on a whole nother level. “Different.” 

Jeonghan smirked. “If you think this is different, you should see what’s under my clothes, angel.” 

masterlist

[zepskies]

More of This

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs.  

AN: Here it is - bonus drabble time!~ This can be a stand-alone, but it’s really a snippet missing from Lost Time in the Every Second Counts-verse. Using the GIF above from 2x02 specifically for the hair flip. It did things to me... 😮‍💨 (But there are NO spoilers for 2x02).

Shoutout to @impala-dreamer who helped inspire this in our @jacklesversebingo chat. 😂

Word Count: 900

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smut and feels, small tinge of angst. Russell's hair. Tattoos. Everything really.

💜 Series Masterlist  

“Welcome home,” you whispered into his mouth.

All Russell could offer was a breathless sound, caught somewhere between an agreement and a groan of pleasure. He was being treated to a feast of the eyes as you rode him slow in the comfort and safety of your bed.

Your lips didn’t quite manage to connect with his in a kiss, with heavy breaths in between and a deliberate roll of your hips against his. He’d been letting you control the pace of him sheathing home with your every drawn-out thrust.

He was enjoying the show—your hair wild, your pupils blown wide with arousal, being able to palm at your breasts and tease your hardened nipples, kissing your flushed, dewy skin.

But you could feel him getting desperate. His hands moved down your body over soft curves, just for his fingers to squeeze into the flesh of your hips and ass, trying to ground himself in you. His eyes shut and his head fell back into the pillow. You bent down and fastened your lips to his neck, kissing and sucking hard there. He slid a hand up your back and buried it in your hair.

“Takin’ me so well, baby,” he said, his voice deep and rough, and a bit strained. “But you’re torturing me a little bit.”

You giggled breathlessly into his neck. Your tone was playful and coy when you replied, “What do you mean?”

You made a show of raising your hips, letting his hard length slide out of your wet heat all the way to the tip, before you slowly sunk back down. You shifted your hips along the way, until the thick head of him was nestled deep and pressing against your cervix. You both panted for breath. Even your arms were shaking while holding yourself above him.

“Yeah, think you’re trying to kill me,” Russell uttered. “Suppose there’s worse ways to go…”

“Fuck,” you muttered, releasing into a moan. The languid drag of his cock against your inner walls was good, but nowhere near enough at this point.

Maybe you were done teasing him, as well as yourself. Maybe you were done punishing him for taking one contract job after another, taking so long to get back, and making you worry about him and his safety. Your lips made their way back to his cheek, laying a sweeter kiss there.

“Okay.” You smiled against his skin. “How about you fuck me like it’s been three months, not three weeks. I wanna feel you come hot inside me—”

Russell wouldn’t even wait for you to finish the dirty whispers already setting his blood alight. His tattooed arm wrapped around your back and pulled you flush against his chest. He manhandled you seemingly without much effort, twisting you onto your back and having you laid out underneath him.

You let out a huff as your back met the mattress and made the springs squeak. Your head barely made it onto the pillow where his head had been, but your boyfriend wasted little time in grabbing your thighs and angling you just right, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. (You didn’t need any encouragement.) He took you hard and deep, making sure he hit that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

You gasped and clung to his broad shoulders.

“Right there, sweetheart?” he said near your ear. His voice was rich and gravel. A shiver ran through your body, goaded along with every other sensation he was drawing out of you. You couldn’t even speak. Just a nod and a broken, desperate whimper. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip.

You were holding on for the rest of the ride. If nothing else, Russell had precision, and he was a master of his craft. And that was whatever he set his mind to.

His hand slipped between your bodies for a moment, his fingers searching, and finding, then massaging your swollen clit between thrusts. You cried out in his ear and damn near choked on your own breath, your nails biting into his shoulders. It didn’t take much longer for that tightening coil in your core to finally snap, your inner walls throbbing around his cock.

A curse and a ragged groan fell from his lips as his body locked up on him as well. You felt his body stiffen and the warmth of his release deep inside you. The sensation elicited another shiver down your spine.

You were on birth control, but it still made you feel a bit wild sometimes, whenever he came inside you. You relaxed underneath him with your knees bent, your thighs a soft cradle for his hips.

Russell kept himself upright with his forearms resting on either side of your head. His long hair had slid forward, the brown silky strands tickling your forehead as his panting breaths mingled with yours.

You attempted to brush some of his hair back behind his ears, but it fell forward again, tickling your nose. Russell allowed it on purpose, making you laugh lightly. He grinned in response, but he lowered further to capture your lips in a kiss. He didn’t mind this one being nice and slow.

Even when he parted from you, you still craved more of him. More of this.

You slipped a hand over his bearded cheek, an affectionate caress. A softer smile drew across his lips. He rested his forehead against yours, and he chuckled a little.

“It’s damn good to be home.”

AN: 🫣 Lol hope you enjoyed this one! ❤️‍🔥

Join Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Series Masterlist || Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Russell Shaw Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @rizlowwritessortof

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

@arcannaa @angelbabyyy99 @twinkleinadiamondsky @ladysparkles78 @mistressofallthingsgeeky

@juno-pixie @deadlydivergentgirl @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @fanficwriter5 @kayleighwinchester

@isla-finke-blog @kr804573 @corruptedcruiser @deansbbyx @lacilou

@ej13928 @star-yawnznn @djs8891 @stoneyggirl2 @yvonneeeee

@rrahuntersblog @superbouquetgarden @impala67stellawinchester @whimsicalcherry @deanwinchestersgirl8734

@hobby27 @iloveyou2mia @deadlymistletoe @smoothdogsgirl @fanfic-n-tabulous

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat

[ckret2]

Chapter 60 of human Bill Cipher almost wasn't the Mystery Shack's prisoner but he's back here for some reason:

Everything you never even imagined about how Bill survived his execution.

(warning for cultists doing cultish activities in this chapter. and i don't mean "fantastical Blind Eye Society hijinks," i mean "discussing how to indoctrinate & isolate new recruits.)

####

"Hiya, Stan!" Bill Cipher beamed brilliantly. His gold tooth matched his new coat. "Didja miss me yet?"

Stan punched Bill in the nose.

Bill tumbled on his back, hand over his face. Voice tight with pain, he said, "Just so you know, I let you do that."

Stan's voice hit a pitch he hadn't been able to reach since puberty. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ALIVE!"

Bill sat up gingerly. "Well, funny story—"

"NO! Nuh-uh, I'm finishing you properly this time!" Fists raised, Stan lunged at Bill.

Ford grabbed Stan from behind, one arm around his neck and one hooked up under his armpit. (Bill took the opportunity to scoot backward and get to his feet.) "Stanley! Stand down!"

"YOU!" Stan flung Ford's hands off and whirled around, pointing accusatorially at him. "You gave me your word! Tell me you didn't let Bill out."

"I didn't let Bill out."

Stan grabbed Ford's turtleneck. "Don't you lie to me!"

"I didn't let Bill out!" Ford ripped Stan's hands off his turtleneck. "He was already gone when I went into the kids' room."

"Then who— Who else would've known—"

Stan whirled around at a creak on the stairs. Dipper, halfway down the stairs, jumped when Stan saw him.

"DIPPER!" Stan stormed up to the stairs. "Did you help the demon escape?!"

"What, no!" Dipper took a step back up. "I don't even know how he got out! All I did was not say anything!"

"Well, who's left that could've helped him?!"

"BIIILL!" Mabel barreled down the stairs. "YOU CAME BACK!" She climbed on the stair railing, jumped off, and Bill—who'd crept inside behind Stan—was once more tackled to the ground.

Stan's hands twisted in the air like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to strangle someone, punch something, or pull out his own hair. He finally settled on curling them into fists and shaking them at God. "AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN'T KNOW THE DEMON'S ALIVE?!"

Soos, still sitting in the living room by himself, staring into space, voice hushed with horror, asked, "So who did I sweep into the flower vase..."

"Okay, family meeting!" Stan pointed at the living room, "Right now! You," he pointed at Bill, "upstairs! I don't wanna look at you and your—your stupid Las Vegas magician sequined coat!"

Bill sat up with a wince and grinned, "Oh, do you like it?" He took off his backpack and checked to see if its contents had been crushed when he was knocked down twice.

"You look like a circus clown!"

"I liked the Vegas magician thing better."

"GO!" Stan pointed up the stairs.

Bill raised his hands, rolling his eye as he started up the stairs. "Fine, fine—"

Stan grabbed Bill's wrist, making him drop his backpack. "STOP!"

"Make up your mind!"

Stan yanked one half of the enchanted friendship bracelets down over Bill's wrist. "You're not getting out again. Not on my watch."

Bill jerked his arm free, shot Stan a dirty look, and stomped up the stairs, umbrella clutched angrily in one hand and backpack in the other. Stan pulled the other half of the bracelet on.

In the living room, Ford, Dipper, and Mabel were lined up shamefacedly on the couch, like three students waiting to be lectured by the principal. Stan glowered at them each, fists on his hips. "Now, I wanna know why my own family all joined in some big secret conspiracy to help Cipher escape! Is it alien mind control?! Did you join a cult?!"

Mabel took a deep breath. "I saved him because he's my friend and I don't want him to die and he really is getting better and you'd all see it if you just gave him a chance to prove it and you just don't understand how he thinks like I do"—she took another breath—"and I promise he won't try to take over the world again just give him a chance!"

Stan's glare melted into something close to guilt. "You're... you're fine, pumpkin. I know you wouldn't have let your friend get hurt." He shot a glare at the other two conspirators. "Which is why we weren't going to tell her."

"Listen," Dipper said, "I still hate him and I don't trust him, but—but I heard part of a poem about Bill that I'm sure is a prophecy; which means he's important, we'll probably need him to save the town or something! So we can't let him die before then! He's already passed up chances to kill us and even saved Grunkle Ford and me, that proves he can restrain himself enough to be useful!" He winced, "Plus... I didn't wanna make Mabel sad. I have seen a future where she loses a friend, and it is not pretty."

Mabel leaned against Dipper. "Thanks, bro-bro."

Stan screwed up his face, but just muttered angrily under his breath about stupid prophecies and stupid life saving, and turned his glare on Ford. "Well? What's your excuse?"

Ford didn't answer, staring down at his hands, grimacing as he searched for an answer.

Stan pressed, "You told me that if you couldn't pull the trigger, you'd give me the gun. Why didn't you?"

"Because I could have pulled it! The situation was different, I—I only changed my mind because he wasn't there. If he had been, I'd have done it—"

"Would you? If you couldn't even tell me that he wasn't dead, do you really think that if he'd been right there, looking you in the eyes, you'd have done it?"

In his mind's eye, Ford could see Bill, hiding under a towel, grinning up at him with one bright eye. And Bill, collapsed beside the lake, shaking all over, sobbing so hard he didn't even notice he was clinging to Ford's stupid borrowed t-shirt like a lifeline. And Bill, staring tiredly across a chess board, telling Ford that the black king was taking the whole board down with him. And Bill, lighting up the room as he taught Ford's niece about his own long-extinct alien civilization.

And Bill, glowing golden, lighting up Ford's dream as he taught him about fifth-dimensional calculus.

Ford didn't answer.

Stan asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Softly, Ford said, "Because I don't want him to die."

Stan spread his arms in disbelief. "Well, why the hell not?!"

"Because—I'm—beginning to think that there might be a chance that Bill could..." he winced, "change. Maybe."

Stan's silence was deafening. Mabel leaned forward to stare around Dipper at Ford.

Ford rubbed his forehead. "I—it made sense yesterday, but it sounds stupid out loud."

Stan slowly shook his head. "Have you all lost your minds? You think he can change? You think he's part of some prophecy?! Y—Mabel, honey, you're the sweetest girl in the world, but you could do way better for friends than him."

Mabel sorta shrugged, sorta shook her head, sorta grimaced, and sorta nodded. "Yeah, but, I like him."

"WHY?!" Stan roared, making Mabel and Dipper both jump. "Why, why are any of you wasting your time on him?! Guys like him don't change! He's a dangerous, self-centered crook, and that's all he'll ever be. He's a rotten, greedy, lazy loser, he's only gotten as far as he has by conning guys smarter than him, he's got no regard for anybody but himself, all he does is cheat and lie, and if you let him stay in our lives he'll just ruin them! The best thing he could do for our family is—" Stan choked on a lump in his throat. "Is d-die."

The room was silent. Dipper and Mabel, leaning back into the sofa to get away from the rant, stared at him with wide eyes. Soos, over in an armchair bearing silent witness to this family drama, had his hands steepled in front of his face.

Stan couldn't look at Ford. He didn't know why Ford looked so sorrowful. Thickly, Stan asked, "All I want is to get rid of him—why don't you?"

He could hear Soos wince. "Oof."

Stan pointed at him. "Not a word. Not one word," he growled. "Fine—if none of you will deal with him properly," he cracked his knuckles, "I will."

Mabel flinched. Dipper moved to stand, "Grunkle Stan—" but stopped when Ford put a hand on his shoulder.

Stan stomped up the stairs. He'd wring that monster's stupid neck, and if it started the apocalypse then so be it—

He stopped halfway up the stairs. Bill was sitting on the steps, just around the landing corner, leaning against the wall, backpack in his lap. His soaked pant legs were dripping rainwater on the steps. "You," Stan snarled. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like, genius? I'm trying to eavesdrop," Bill said. "So what'd they say?"

"What? What did who say about what?"

"About leaving me alive. Why did they say they don't want me dead?"

He asked like he was genuinely curious. Like he didn't know.

Stan stared at Bill.

"I have a good idea for Shooting Star, but the other two...?" Bill made an uncertain gesture with his hand. "I've got my top guesses, but I want to know what clinched the deal."

Stan couldn't kill him, either.

He'd already lost this fight. Pathetic lonely dead con artist who'd rather lose a tooth than look scared, how could Stan take him out? He understood too well. "Just—shut your stupid mouth, take off that stupid circus outfit, and get out of my sight, Cipher."

Bill bristled. "Hey." He stood. "What's that for? It's not like I did anything wrong. Sure, I got your whole family in on a conspiracy, but that's their mistake! I was just doing what I had to! You can't blame me for—"

"I don't blame you," Stan said.

"You d— You don't." Cautiously, Bill asked, "You... don't?"

"How can I?" He shrugged heavily. "It was self-defense. Ford should've known better—but I can't blame you. I'm not an idiot, I don't expect you to just lay down and die for us."

"Oh." Bill squinted at Stan, like he thought this was a trick and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Oh. Okay." After a pause, voice uncharacteristically small and confused, he asked, "So I'm... not in trouble?"

Stan's face did a gymnastics routine. "Heck," he muttered. "No! I guess not! I don't like it, but I'm not gonna punish a guy for saving his own miserable worthless hide! Just... stay out of my way, I don't wanna see your stupid face."

"I'm just minding my own business," Bill said. He sat again and leaned on the wall, arms crossed, staring into space thoughtfully. (He didn't know what to do with a reality where he'd done something everyone hated, but nobody blamed him for it.)

Stan trudged back downstairs. Everyone was where he'd left them. He glowered at his family. They quietly waited. "Well," Stan said. "We're stuck with him now. Since somebody wasted the only bit of fuel we had that could kill him. Is everyone happy."

Nobody seemed particularly happy. Ford shifted on his seat. "Kids... you should go to bed. Stan and I need to talk."

Dipper and Mabel quickly took the opportunity to slide off the sofa and escape the room.

"Oh! Oh you bet we need to talk! You have no idea how much we need to talk—"

"Downstairs," Ford said firmly.

"What, you don't want everyone else to hear exactly what I think of your crazy stunt?"

Ford lowered his voice. "Downstairs where he can't overhear. It's important."

Stan's face twitched with the effort of suppressing more shouting; but then he growled, "Fine! But this had better be worth it. Lemme get my bathrobe, your stupid underground office is like a freezer..." He trudged from the room, grumbling. "Hey, demon! Take off your bracelet, I'm done being tied to your sorry hide." After a moment, the thread reappeared on the stair steps as they both took their ends off.

Dipper glared at Bill as he and Mabel passed him going up the stairs. Bill gave him a tiny, cheery wave. Dipper grumbled, "I can't believe you finally escaped like you wanted just to come right back."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea! Blame your sister!"

Mabel hugged him again. "Thanks for coming back."

Bill said, "Thanks for absorbing Stan's wrath for me!" He laughed.

The kids ran upstairs.

And Bill placed the tip of his broken umbrella on the stair step and quietly walked back down, winding the enchanted bracelets' thread into loops as he went.

####

Soos looked at Ford and shyly raised a hand. "So... when you said the kids should go to bed, did that include..."

"Yes, Soos," Ford said. "You should go too."

"Yes." He quietly pumped a fist. "One of the kids." As he left, he said, "Hey, Bill. Sweet coat."

Ford looked over. Hovering in the shadows of the entryway, almost glowing gold from the living room's light, Bill peered into the room. He was by the coat rack, hanging the bracelets back up. Bill said, "Fancy meeting you here."

Ford sighed irritably. "I'm not in the mood to talk, Cipher."

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not down here for you." Bill gestured at the sofa Ford was on. "I want my bed back."

Right. Ford stood so Bill could retrieve the cushions.

As he grabbed the first cushion, Bill smirked at Ford. "So..." (Not here for you. Sure.) "What was it that swayed you?"

Ford just glowered at Bill.

Bill pressed, "Was it that handy list of starter spells I gave you? I doubt it was my chess prowess, that wasn't my best playing." He laughed, "What am I asking for! You humans are suckers for a life debt. You can consider it paid off—a life for a life, fair and square—"

"It wasn't any of those."

Bill's smile disappeared. "Then what?" he asked. "Don't tell me you did it out of the goodness of your heart, I've seen enough of yours not to buy that—"

"It was Mabel."

Bill dropped his first cushion on top of the second and awkwardly tried to get his arms around both. "What'd she say about me?"

"Nothing." Nothing that had changed Ford's mind, anyway. "It's how you treat her."

"How I—?" Bill was so baffled that he almost looked offended. "What are you talking about? I haven't been treating her any way at all! I'm just... just goofing around with her. She's a fun kid."

"Exactly," Ford said. "If you can treat just one odd little girl with kindness, for no reason—then maybe, just maybe, there's hope for you." He sighed; he felt the sternness in his face slacken. He felt tired. "At least... I want to hope there is."

There was a flash of something Ford couldn't recognize in Bill's face. Something like pain; something nearly like guilt. It was gone almost as soon as he saw it.

"Well, sure," Bill said flatly, glancing away like Ford had lost his interest. "Why wouldn't I be nice to her? I like weird freaks." He managed to stand with his awkward armload and turned away, cutting the conversation off. "Anyway. It's been a long night. I'm going to bed. You should too," he shot back over his shoulder from the bottom of the stairs, "when's the last time you got decent sleep? Your eye bags are more... bag than... eye." Bill cringed at himself. "Don— Don't say anything. I'm tired." He headed up the stairs, his umbrella hooked over his left elbow. They'd have to get that umbrella back.

Tomorrow. Ford couldn't be bothered tonight. Bill wasn't killing anybody before morning.

Ford leaned on the doorframe where he could still see Bill. "I hid your hoodie in the box of spare bedding in the loft. Under the spare pillows."

Bill stopped halfway up the stairs and turned back toward Ford. "You didn't incinerate it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I assumed you'd be back here eventually. I thought you'd want it."

Bill's face was unreadable.

He turned away from Ford and continued upstairs without saying a word.

Mabel's crayon drawing of Bill—"YOU CAN CHANGE. I BELIEVE IN YOU!"—felt like it was burning a hole in Ford's pocket.

####

Saturday, 7:52 a.m.

Bill stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar and timed his exit so he walked out of the Triple Digit Truck Stop just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

Gravity Falls really was a charming little town. Behind the times. The Triple Digit Truck Stop had expanded significantly in the past decades to add a convenience store and additional amenities for travelers, but the diner that made up the heart of it had barely changed. Same patchy grassy parking lot, same giant lumberjack sculpture watching over the cars... same public pay phones around the left side of the building.

He put in a few coins, punched in the number he'd memorized, and leaned against the wall while he waited to be answered. "Hey, Sue! Guess who?" A smile curled across his face. "That's right. Hey, how many people can say they've been personally called by god?" He laughed. "My Star Boy told you what preparations to make, right? Good. It's time. Midnight. Just north of the county line. I'll see you there."

Then he hung up the phone, left the clearing around the diner, and vanished into the trees.

Unless something dramatically changed, he'd be meeting his dear devotee that night.

####

9:30 p.m.

Something had dramatically changed.

His disloyal devotee had saved him.

It was a long walk to the county line. If Bill wanted to make his midnight meeting with his cultist, he had to leave before sunset.

He was still up on the cliff when the last of the light left the valley, pacing restlessly back and forth—first toward the side of the cliff overlooking the town (he could see the Mystery Shack's roof through the trees), then toward the side aimed away from the valley, toward the county line.

He should go. He needed to go. He needed to go now. He needed to go two hours ago.

He'd spent three out of the last four days hiking all over this town's forests and caves. In the last thirty-six hours he'd barely gotten a quick nap. (In the morning, when Mabel heard that Ford had covered for Bill, she'd come straight here.) He told himself he didn't have the energy for the hike to the county line. (What if Mabel got here and couldn't find him?)

If he didn't show up tonight, surely his cultist would try again tomorrow night. He'd go tomorrow.

It was fine. Everything would work out for him. Everything always worked out for him.

####

Sunday, 4:10 p.m.

He'd been right. Mabel had come straight here. As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched her wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth? Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Interesting question.

####

8:30 p.m.

It was a long walk to the county line. Bill packed his supplies—he didn't have that much to pack, he'd only ever needed enough food and shelter to last him a couple of days. He flung one backpack over each shoulder, closed and concealed the alien ship fragment, and shrunk his floating platform with the height-altering flashlight so he could wrap it in a shirt and stuff it in his second backpack.

And then, under the cover of the rain and the falling night, he began the hike north.

####

10:45 p.m.

Even to Bill's eyes, the weirdness barrier around Gravity Falls was typically invisible. He could only see it where something touched it or passed through it, making waves travel out in circles from the point of contact. The circles glowed a dull coppery color at their peaks. Tonight, with the rain falling, the barrier rippled as though the rain were falling on the surface of a lake, and the whole thing glowed a faint filmy orange.

Precisely in the middle of the barrier was a sign marking the border of Roadkill County.

Ten feet beyond the barrier, just off the edge of the road, headlights and engine off and lurking beneath the trees, was a black car.

Bill walked straight through the weirdness barrier as though it wasn't even there. He didn't feel a thing.

The car engine started and the headlights turned on. Bill didn't even blink. The driver's door flew open and Sue popped out, fumbling to open an umbrella as she did. "Bill Cipher?"

"Hiya, Sue! You made it early."

"Oh, thank goodness." She hurried up to him. "I was so worried—I didn't know if I'd come to the wrong place, or if something had happened... And when I didn't hear anything from you the next day, and Gideon didn't know anything..." (Great, she'd gotten Gideon involved?) She started to offer Bill her umbrella, realized he was already holding a closed umbrella as a cane, looked up as she registered that no rain was falling on him, then stared at him in wonder.

"Yeah, sorry about that—an unavoidable emergency came up, I couldn't get out and couldn't call." And he'd gotten a pretty good night's sleep. "But look at you, loyal enough to come try again the next night! You're a rare sort of human soul, you know that? This world could use more people like you."

Sue flushed with pleasure. "Oh... thank you, I..."

Bill tilted his head toward the car. "Let's not talk out in the rain, huh? Another car's coming by in about a minute, I think we shouldn't be seen."

"Right! Of course, my lord." She hurried back to the car.

"There's a terrific diner just a few minutes up the road. We can talk there, it's safe enough. Cute decor, too—have you ever seen a twenty foot tall lumberjack...?" He paused uncertainly by the car. "Hey, Sue? This'll sound silly—but I'm gonna need you to get the passenger door."

The car's interior lights flashed on as Sue opened the passenger door, long enough to catch the glittery purple nail polish on Bill's fingers. Sue gave it a curious look. Even though they'd just gotten painted three days ago, the polish was already scuffed again from his escape; but a few tiny flower stickers were still sticking to his nails.

Bill grinned. "There's a thirteen-year-old staying in the shack. Sweetest thing. She's a real artist."

"Oh! I see." A smile stretched across Sue's face. Bill suspected it wasn't for Mabel. That's right, your god's good with children. He lets little girls give him goofy manicures and proudly shows them off. Chicks dig that kind of thing.

When they were both buckled in, Sue hesitated, holding the steering wheel. "Lord Cipher... I wanted to say... if my... actions the last time we met were out of line in any way, I want to apologize—"

Bill placed a finger under her chin, turned her face toward him, and kissed her lightly. (He was so smooth. He mentally congratulated himself.) "Sorry if you got confused. I had to keep the outsider from getting suspicious, get it?"

She sucked in a small breath. "I... yes. Yes, of course."

"Don't trust anything I say or do when unbelievers are listening. The only time you can be sure I'm telling the truth..." his voice dropped to a near whisper, "is when we're alone."

He could see the goosebumps raise on her arms. "Yes, my lord."

He was so good—and his worshipers were so, so stupid. That was why they followed him. "Now, let's get to that diner, huh?"

As they got on the road, he studied his nails; to a normal human it was too dark to see, but to Bill's eyes they still glittered bright purple. The question Mabel had asked him earlier had been playing over and over in his mind all afternoon: Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Naive, trusting kid.

She really thought she was his best option.

######

"... And then, as if directly launching a psychic attack on my ethereal essence and forcing me into a mortal fleshly form wasn't bad enough," Bill said, "they imprisoned me! And get this: just to rub salt in the wound, they thought it would be funny to take a divine muse who's spent an eternity helping mortals build doorways between dimensions—and curse it so it can't open doors. I have to ask my kidnappers to open the fridge for me. Have you ever heard something so condescending?"

"Insane. That's just sadistic," Sue said. "After all you tried to do for them."

"You don't know what a comfort it is to hear a human say that."

They fell silent as someone approached. A waitress stopped next to their table. "Hey, I—Goldie!"

"Dani Miranda! Hey, how's it going! I see you found the treasure map I left you."

Dani was wearing two large gold earrings, two heavy gold necklaces each with a large gem-encrusted pendant, and four rings. "Yes, oh my gosh. I cannot believe you knew where a whole treasure chest was and you just gave it to me? That's the nicest thing ever?"

That's right, it was. "What are you doing working here! You can retire on that kind of money. Unless you want to rebury all that gold yourself?" He'd respect that.

"I'm still getting it appraised. Besides, I like talking to the late night travelers."

Bill ordered a strawberry banana shake, the monthly pancake special—which meant three quarters of the pile covered in stripes of strawberry sauce and cream cheese frosting and one quarter covered in a big puddle of blueberry sauce—floppy bacon, three eggs prepared "any way except scrambled," a cup of bleu cheese dressing, a cup of salsa, and a bottle of hot sauce. Sue ordered a water and a small grilled chicken salad.

(Bill tried to remember whether the Death Valley girls were one of his "purify the flesh by practicing harsh asceticism" cults or his "hedonistically revel in the pleasures of the senses" cults, in case he needed to make up a justification for why god was ordering pancakes instead of practicing what he preached—something something a human body containing a divine soul burns through much more energy, maybe—but no, he had the Death Valley girls on psychedelics, that was a hedonism cult. He kept them controlled through drugs, exhaustion, and poor air conditioning, not starvation. Small grilled chicken salad, indeed. The only thing stronger than cult brainwashing was diet industry brainwashing.)

When Dani was safely out of earshot, Sue lowered her voice and asked, "'Goldie'?"

"My captors decided to keep my identity secret so an angry mob won't execute me before they get the chance," Bill said. "The entire town's against the All-Seeing Eye named Bill; but only a handful know there's anything unusual about the handsome human in the Mystery Shack they've been calling Goldie."

She looked taken aback at the angry mob comment. "The entire town's against you?" Her gaze roved around the Triple Digit Truck Stop, taking in a lone trucker several tables away and a bored waiter scrolling on his phone behind the counter. "Is there anyone we can trust?"

"Gideon's on our side, of course—good kid—but, well... he isn't completely reliable. You know what happens with child celebrities. The fame and fortune spoils 'em a bit."

"I never would have guessed from his television appearances. He seems so... gracious."

Bill choked back a laugh. "He'll grow up all right—he's just going through a phase. But I'd rather not trust him with more involvement than necessary until he... matures a little."

"I understand." Sue sighed. "It's too bad the dawn of the new age didn't begin closer to us, where we could have assisted your work."

She didn't have the guts to question her god, but Bill heard the implicit question: why here? Why in some tiny tourist town that didn't even like tourists, buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere, amongst the ignorant ungrateful masses? "Yeah—too bad," Bill agreed with a shrug. "But hey, I didn't choose where the veil between worlds would be thinnest! There's energy in this town like nowhere else on your planet. It's the only place where a machine built with modern human technology is strong enough to punch through dimensions—and that's with the help of extraterrestrial equipment."

Besides, he didn't like Death Valley.

Dani returned from the kitchen. "One chicken salad, and one breakfast combo with the pancakes of the month."

"Great! I'm starving." Bill picked up the little plastic cup of salsa and dumped it into his shake. Sue choked on her water.

Dani's brows shot up. "Is—is that good?"

"What can I say, I've got the palate of an alien." (Sue choked on the sip she'd taken to recover from her first sip of water.) Bill poured the bleu cheese over his eggs, then started drizzling hot sauce on his pancakes. "Anyway, it keeps people from stealing my food."

"I guess so!" Dani laughed. She hovered near their table a little too long; and then she said, "Okay, I've got to ask: how did you know where to find buried treasure? I mean...!"

"I know lots of things." He fought down a smirk. "I happen to be psychic."

"No way." But she looked curious. She wanted to believe.

Bill had had a hunch that giving her that treasure would pay off. Nice to know his understanding of human nature was still sharp, even when he couldn't double-check the far future to see how his meddling would turn out. "If I wasn't psychic, would I have known your last name? Or where that treasure chest was?" he asked. "Or that you keep three pictures of tarantulas and a Canadian twenty in your wallet? Or that you have recurring dreams of trying to hide in sewer manholes from a fire-breathing dragon?" While he waited for her to process that, he triumphantly dug into his pancakes. He had a feeling he wouldn't be eating much more before his food got cold.

Dani's smile had disappeared. The blood drained from her face. "How...?"

"I'm... let's say, connected to a higher plain. I can see dimensions most humans can't."

"It's true," Sue piped up. (Bill took the opportunity to dig into an egg. Oh, the bleu cheese was a great choice.) "The insights h—she's offered me and so many others have been... life-changing. World-changing." Good girl.

"Insights?" Dani asked weakly.

Bill shrugged modestly. "You could call me a 'spiritual teacher,' I suppose, but that makes it sound like I'm preaching some kind of religion! All I do is teach people what I know and tell people what I see if I think it'll help 'em. Like if I see a bunch of buried gold that could change the life of a nice kid working minimum wage."

Dani reflexively touched one of her necklaces.

"You didn't think going to parties in togas was my full-time job, did you?" Bill laughed.

Dani laughed feebly too. She hadn't moved away. She was closer now, her thigh leaning against the edge of the table. "That's... wow. I've never met an actual psychic before. I mean—I went to one of Lil Gideon's live shows, but that was before the big scandal and his arrest."

"You hate to see a pillar of the community go down like that, don't you?"

"What..." Dani swallowed hard, lowered her voice, and asked, "What kinds of things does a psychic 'teach'?"

Got her. "It depends! Everyone's got different lessons they need to learn, right?" He slid out of his seat, nodded toward Sue, and said, "Excuse me ladies—I'd love to elaborate, but I'm afraid I need to hit the restroom. Sue, why don't you tell her what you've learned about, give her a concrete idea of what I do."

"It would be my honor."

As Bill passed Sue, he leaned over and whispered, "Don't mention triangles." And then he got out of her way, to let Sue do what his Death Valley girls did best.

####

When he returned to his seat, Sue leaned over the table and murmured, "I got her phone number and email."

"Good work. I bet she'd be an easy recruit."

"I bet. She's already asking how much lessons cost."

"What'd you say?"

"You offer your help to others for free, but cover your living expenses and travel costs with donations."

"Attagirl." It had been easier to use that line when he was a triangle—of course our great mentor and muse doesn't need money, he's above such earthly concerns; his mortal devotees who spread his word, though, subsist on donations... It was better for his image. They'd just have to modify their fundraising pitch for a while. "This is exactly what I hoped would happen when I invited you to this diner. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

The ghost of a smile flitted across Sue's face. "I'll follow up with her by phone. It's a pity we don't have enough time to really put the pressure on her in person."

"Why not? I bet we'd win her over in less than a week."

"I've already contacted the main compound in Death Valley. We've got plane tickets for first thing in the morning."

(Bill's blood ran cold. Somehow, it hadn't dawned on him until that moment that escaping Gravity Falls meant leaving Gravity Falls.)

"I have a motel room a few towns over, it was the closest I could find to Gravity Falls," Sue went on. "It's a straight shot to the Portland airport in the morning. Everyone's so excited—"

"Hold on," Bill said, figuring out what he was about to say next as he went. "There's been a last minute change of plans. I'm staying in Gravity Falls."

Sue stared at him. "But—my lord! You're a prisoner here, why wouldn't you come home to the people who love you?"

Love you, love you, love you. The word love alone was nearly enough to make him change his mind again. How he missed being revered. He could picture them now, these zealots who adored him so much they'd willingly bend their bodies into a throne to lift him up—and he didn't even need to turn them to stone first. It would be so easy to get away from all his human enemies forever...

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?

He shook his head. "Two reasons," he said. "One: no matter what, eventually I'll have to come back. The Age of the Triangle can only dawn in Gravity Falls. Staying makes it that much easier to get things started again. And two... I'm—working on a couple of potential recruits." He was? Wow. He was impressed at himself.

"You mean Gideon, or...?"

"No, others. One's the girl who helped me escape." He drummed his fingers on the table, calling attention to his purple fingernails. "She's a good kid. Lots of potential. Could be a real leader someday—she's a natural fit for our new world. She's got a few strings, but I'm working on helping her untie 'em."

Strings was a term that Mary, the leader of the Death Valley compound, had come up with and spread to the other girls: it meant petty mortal concerns that could tangle and tie you up, dragging you away from pursuing true spiritual growth and preparing for a better, liberated world. Your childhood religious beliefs were a string. The misguided ideas about morality you learned from the secular world were a string. Your job was a string. Your spouse was a string. Your family was a lot of strings. The intervention where your friends sat you down and told you they were worried about how much you'd changed lately and they were afraid you'd joined some kind of cult was a string. You had to cut them all.

And then Bill could tie on his puppet strings in their place.

"How old is she?"

"Thirteen. Fourteen at the end of the summer."

"Oh, wow—younger than I thought. That's great, kids are more open-minded," Sue said. "Though if she decides to join, it'll be hard to get her away from her family without a kidnapping charge..."

"Ugh, you don't need to remind me. I remember how we almost lost Karen and Jennifer. The legal system in this country is a mess." Bill had needed to torture that divorce court judge with nightmares for weeks before he caved and awarded Jennifer's mother sole custody so they could move to the Death Valley compound together. "But hey, got some good news: the other potential recruit. You remember the 'ex-cultist' who gave you gals my location. He turned on the humans who are pushing to execute me. He's almost back on our side. And he just so happens to be the girl's great-uncle. The family trusts him. If we can get 'em to pass her to him as her guardian, then she's ours. We can work out how to get her to the compound later." That was a lie. Bill was never handing Mabel to the Death Valley girls. She was better than them.

Sue looked less enthusiastic for this ex-cultist than she had for the girl. "Is he one of your captors...?"

Bill waved off her concerns, frowning. "Look. He's obviously been corrupted by the outside world. I lost contact with him for thirty years and he came back with more strings than a mop head. But I don't think he's beyond purification. He's already shown major improvement, now that he's once again under the shining light of my influence."

"But, this town..." Sue shook her head doubtfully. "Cipher, my lord, they nearly killed you once. You'd risk staying just to try to recruit two people? One who's already betrayed you—?"

"Yes!" Bill snapped. Sue flinched. "They're worth it." (He didn't question his own vehemence, his own anger at their value being doubted. He rarely questioned himself. If he asked questions, he might get answers.) "Don't you dare let this face fool you—I'm still your all-seeing god and I know what I'm doing better than you do. These two are perfect. The Age of the Triangle needs them. The traitor will repent. He WILL worship me again."

Sue stared at him with wide eyes; for a split second her breath froze in fear. She gave him a tiny nod. "Of course, my lord. My apologies."

Dani appeared at their table again. "Hey, how was everything?"

And Bill was immediately all good cheer. "Terrific, thanks!"

"Great!"

As Sue reached for her wallet, Dani waved her off. "Oh, don't worry about it—it's on the house." She winked. "I think I can afford to cover it."

Already making donations to the cause. Pretty soon all the profits from her treasure chest would be in one of Bill's bank accounts.

As they headed back out into the rain, Sue said, "So, we're staying in town at least long enough to pick up another three recruits?"

"Maybe four," Bill said. "There's another kid in town I think needs some help finding a direction."

"Another? Is this one old enough to leave home alone?"

"Not for a couple more years—but she's dying to get out just as fast as she can," Bill said. "I think you can handle her."

####

They parked just up the road from the Mystery Shack and turned the headlights off.

"Here's everything Gideon said you wanted," Sue said, handing over a paper bag. "Candles, matchbook, knife, pens, spare notebooks, five thousand dollars, a burner phone, new clothes..."

Bill pulled out a flashy golden sequin-covered coat. "Oooh!" He dug around until he also found a button-up shirt and a pair of black opera gloves. He shrugged on the shirt.

"That's... what Gideon said you requested, right?" Sue eyed the tacky, gaudy coat uncertainly.

"As long as I'm in this body, I don't have the benefit of showing up glowing in people's dreams when I have something they need to hear! I need to make them pay attention any way I can." Also, normal people had boring tastes and sequins were fantastic. He buttoned up the shirt.

"I also brought—I—thought you might want..." She held out a large pendant on a thin chain. It was an eye inscribed inside a triangle inscribed inside a circle; rays radiated out from the eye, as though it were the sun. Bill's heart leaped into his throat at the sight of it.

He realized this was the first time since his death that he'd seen his own face in any form other than a thirteen-year-old's artwork—and his own corpse. His face was ubiquitous on this planet; it was plastered on everything from money to buildings to common consumer goods. Its conspicuous absence in Gravity Falls was uncanny.

"I'm not sure if it's inappropriate—"

"It's perfect." Bill snatched the necklace from her and fiddled with the clasp until he got it on. "Exactly what I need. What did I always say about your intuition?" He considered the gloves, decided he wasn't ready to pull them on quite yet, and shrugged on the coat instead.

She restrained a pleased smile at the flattery. "Thank you, my lord."

She looked out the windshield. Just up the road was a flock of wooden signs and arrows pointing which way to turn to reach the Mystery Shack. Bill wondered whether Sue's eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that she could see their silhouettes. Sue said, "If you're not coming back to us yet, then I suppose it's time to..."

"Hold on a minute," Bill said. "You've been a bigger help tonight than you know. If it weren't for your loyalty and diligence, I wouldn't have been able to consider escaping." Blah blah blah. The truth was he'd been soaking in her reverence for the past hour and a half, like a dehydrated cactus under a cloudburst, and he wasn't leaving until he'd sucked every drop from her. "There isn't a lot I can do for you right now, trapped in this form, but you deserve a reward." He leaned toward her, his elbow against her car seat, hand on the headrest. "Let me express my gratitude the way I would have if we hadn't been interrupted during our last meeting." He tilted his head toward the back seat.

She froze as she processed the offer; and then she leaned in to kiss him hungrily.

####

"The tide's changing in this town," Bill said, pulling on his gloves, smoothing his hair back into place, putting his new coat back on. "The dawn is coming. You should stay in town now that our enemies are losing their teeth."

"Yes, Lord Cipher," she said breathlessly, still trying to get her wits about her.

(From what Bill had eavesdropped between her and Dani while he was pretending to be in the restroom, he was right that she'd been one of his "dissatisfied housewife" converts. This was probably the first time she'd ever been touched by somebody who understood anatomy. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to return the favor. But he'd been touched by reverent hands, he'd tasted tears, he'd heard a voice whine "Bill, my god, my god, my god—" That would have to hold him for a while.)

"And ditch the rental. Buy a used car," Bill said. "There's a place in town called Gleeful Auto Sales. Ask Bud for the best car on the lot, pay whatever he asks—and tell him Mr. Locke sent you."

"'Gleeful' as in...?"

"His father. My Star Boy was the only person in town who supported me—and the town's turned on his family for it. They could use our help."

Sue pursed her lips in displeasure. "Of course."

Bill gestured toward his door. "I think we've put this off long enough."

While he waited for her to get his door, he slung his two backpacks over each shoulder. Under his breath, he muttered, "'Coffee break's over; back on your heads.'"

Sue opened the door; he picked up his umbrella and stepped out into the rain.

As he walked back to his prison, he tucked his necklace beneath his shirt.

Bill reminded himself that he didn't have anything to be afraid of. Ford had thrown away the one shot that could have killed him. He was safe.

####

1:20 a.m.

As Stan followed Ford into his underground study, he shot a glance at the barren far end of the room. He grumbled, "Nice to see you haven't started putting triangle posters back up."

"I'm not..." Ford sighed in irritation. "Never mind."

"So what's so important that you had to drag me down to your nerd cave? If this isn't good—"

"I didn't waste our shot."

"What?"

At his metal worktable, Ford unlatched the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case and opened it. "You said I wasted the only fuel we had. I didn't." He detached the NowUSeeitNowUDontium's fuel tank and held it out. The needle on the side indicated it was about a quarter full—nowhere near its full capacity, but enough for one shot, and just as much as they'd brought home from Fiddleford's.

Stan gaped. "But... hold on—we saw that shot through the walls. How the heck did you fake...?"

"Before he started developing a process to generate Dontium, Fiddleford came up with a power adaptor that could plug into the town's electricity." Ford picked up the power cord wound up in the carrying case. "He determined that it only gave the Destabilizer enough power to operate like a laser, not destroy matter and energy, so we still needed to develop the Dontium... but, I still had the cord on hand."

####

Saturday, 12:07 p.m.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.

He slid out its fuel tank, returned it to the case, and pulled out the cord.

He climbed down to the bedroom; unplugged the room's air conditioning unit from its dedicated higher voltage wall socket; and plugged in the Quantum Destabilizer's cord.

In the loft, trying to figure out how to plug the other end of the cord into the Quantum Destabilizer, he was suddenly struck by the hair-raising feeling that someone was watching him. He whipped around; the eye on Bill's hood stared at him resentfully.

Ford stared back at it a moment; then he stood, pulled the hoodie off the dummy, and stuffed it into a nearby box.

He knelt. He plugged in the cable. He carefully lined up the shot with the dummy.

He fired.

####

12:09 p.m.

The atmosphere abruptly grew eerily quiet and still as the unplugged air conditioning unit fell silent. There was a shrill, whistling shriek and a blast of blue-white light so brilliant it pierced the cracks of the wooden boards in the attic bedroom's walls.

Every light in the house went out as the Quantum Destabilizer's power adapter drained every drop of electricity in town.

####

12:10 p.m.

The air was hot, stagnant, and stuffy. There was a pile of ashes three feet in front of Ford's knees.

Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done:

The Quantum Destabilizer, at full power, completely destroyed all matter and energy.

It didn't leave behind ashes.

####

Monday, 1:23 a.m.

Ford said, "Bill left a letter in the attic asking me to help cover his getaway. If I didn't fire the gun, Bill would have known I'd told you he escaped. But if he could see the Quantum Destabilizer firing, he'd think I'd chosen his side. The only way to lure him back to the shack was by making him think I'd used up the only substance we have that could destroy him." He muttered, "Granted, I'd assumed he'd try to contact me secretly rather than knock on the door in the middle of the night, but..."

Stan gaped at Ford. Then he burst into loud laughter. "Sixer, you tricky sonova! I don't believe it!" He socked his arm. "I oughta retire from the conning business and hand it over to you!"

A smile slowly crept up Ford's face.

Stan pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the elevator. "So we can go up there and finish him off now, right? Just wait for him to fall asleep, and...?"

Ford's smile disappeared. "No."

"N—What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I..." He took a deep breath as he chose his words. "I was serious, earlier, when I... said I want to give him a chance."

"Wh—? Still? Ford, come on, you can't think he deserves it?"

"No. Of course not. Not even close." Ford didn't hesitate. "But... does he need to deserve a chance to get one? I wonder if maybe Mabel's on to something. If he could be better, he can't show us unless we give him the second chance—before he's earned it." He sounded like a lunatic. "He can't earn it if he's dead."

Stan looked for a moment like he wanted to argue; and then something painful flashed through his eyes; and then he looked away from Ford, scowling to himself as he thought. He sighed heavily. "Yeah. Okay. Fine. Darn it, I don't wanna do it either. The creep's actually starting to grow on me. Like some kind of foot fungus."

Ford huffed. "What's important is, if we give him a chance and he throws it away, I haven't left us unarmed." He gestured to the unplugged fuel tank.

Stan looked at the tank; then looked at Ford. "You could've told us about the power cord trick yesterday, and you didn't." Stan crossed his arms. "Be honest. Do you really think, if it came down to it, you'd be able to pull the trigger now?"

"No." And again Ford didn't hesitate. "I want to believe I could; but I... don't trust myself. Yesterday morning, I never would have thought I'd decide against executing him for any reason. I know Bill's playing games with me, and yet I'm still playing along—so what else might I do?" He shrugged helplessly. He hated that Bill could still take control of his mind—even when he couldn't physically get inside it. "To some extent, he's gotten into all our heads."

Stan grimaced, but he didn't argue.

"That's why I think Fiddleford should keep the Quantum Destabilizer. He's never been taken in by Bill's tricks. If it becomes necessary, he won't hesitate."

"You know the situation's bad when Old Man McGucket's the voice of reason," Stan muttered. "But, I like that idea.  We can drop it off with him in the morning."

Ford sighed. "He's probably spent the last two days thinking Bill's dead. He won't be happy to see us."

As they walked back to the elevator, Stan said, "Maybe leaving Bill alive isn't an end-of-the-world bad idea. How much trouble can he get in when he can't escape that magic barrier around town?"

"That's true," Ford said. "He's essentially harmless—at least to the rest of the universe."

Ford didn't have anything to be afraid of. Bill was trapped in the weirdness barrier; and he couldn't even leave the shack without help. They were safe.

####

As fancy as his new coat looked, Bill was was grateful to crawl back into the comfortingly formless body-obscuring shelter of his hoodie. He pulled his hood over his face, curled up on his usual cushions (sigh) in his usual spot (sigh), and quickly fell asleep.

And began to dream.

And, in his dream, saw through his nearby eyes.

In his sleep, he could see the attic from where he lay on his cushions. He sat up, realized his vision was crooked, straightened out his hood, and stood; and he began sleepwalking.

He crept silently downstairs. He walked backwards into the gift shop. He walked up to a spinning rack of keychains that Soos had set up on the display case, took off his necklace, and hung it from one of the hooks.

He pulled aside the curtain hiding the ladder to the roof.

Bill was very good at lying. Bill was very good at lying to himself. No, that wasn't true—Bill had never lied to himself in his life, and he was willing to kill anyone who tried to say he had. Bill didn't tell himself lies; he told himself what should be the truth. Believing in a new reality was the first step toward making it real. All you had to do was lie until you weren't lying anymore—and then, you'd never lied at all. It was very simple.

He'd spent billions of years swimming in and out of dreams, until he was more comfortable with how reality worked in dreams than he was with how reality worked in actual reality; and there was no other state of existence where the line between truth and lie was blurriest. Unlike the physical world, where altering reality tended to require a little more actual work, in a dream, lying until it came true really was as simple as thinking about your new truth.

That was all it took. One bright, lucid thought to shine order through the confused fog of the subconscious.

Bill was getting good at lucid dreaming.

Bill was dreaming now.

A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy called the trap doors in the ceiling "roof lids."

No, that wasn't true. A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy call the roof lids "roof lids," because that was what they were. Bill couldn't open doors, didn't have the first idea of what to do with a door, but he could open lids. Jar lids. Pot lids. Toilet lids. He'd practiced with toilet lids—they had hinges, that made them the most similar to roof lids. If he could open all those lids, he could open these lids.

As he stared, the trap doors changed, in the way that dream images had of swimming and shifting dizzily before your eyes, into roof lids.

He climbed the ladder, pushed up the roof lid, climbed through; and then opened the second one that led onto the roof. He moved so silently. The rickety rungs and old wooden boards didn't even creak beneath his footsteps. He climbed out, sleepwalked his way to the roof hangout spot, and jumped off the roof.

He descended, slow as a feather, to land lightly on the ground, as though gravity hardly touched him.

Almost a month ago, on his birthday, Stan had taken off his gold chain and chucked it off into the forest so he could put on his birthday gift instead. Bill had watched enviously from the window. Now, triumphantly, he scooped up the long-coveted chain and wrapped it several times around his wrist.

And then he went to the tree where he'd hung up his second backpack full of contraband and retrieved it.

There were several pine trees right next to the shack. As near-weightless as Bill was in his dream, it was easy for him to climb one of the trees and get back on the roof.

In the gift shop, the vending machine swung open as Stan and Ford returned to the house level. They went into the living room, heading toward bed. The All-Seeing Eye hanging on the keychain rack watched as the door swung shut behind them. After waiting a few more seconds to ensure they were gone, Bill slid down onto the ladder, shut the roof lid, and jumped noiselessly to the floor. He retrieved his necklace from the keychain rack.

This was a vending machine. It wasn't a door. It clearly wasn't a door. Bill punched in the vending machine's code and stepped back as it swung aside for him. He crept down the stairs.

This was an elevator. The elevator had doors, and he didn't know how to open them, but he wasn't worrying about those. The doors would sort themselves out somehow. All he cared about was the elevator. He was NOT trying to open the doors. He wasn't even thinking about opening the doors. He pushed the button to call the elevator.

The elevator doors slid open. See, just like he'd thought: the doors took care of themselves.

He pushed the button for the lowest floor. The doors slid shut.

As he rode down, he wove his new necklace's thin chain between the links of Stan's much thicker chain. Oh yeah. That looked much better. 

The doors opened again into the interdimensional portal's control room.

He put on his necklace and stepped out. It was about time he made it back here. Bill really should have taken more time to check this place out at the start of summer. Why had he been in such a rush to kill the Pines? He'd had time travel. He could have rebuilt the entire portal by himself, won the lotto in Texas, spent a week in a seven star hotel, watched the Titanic sink, become President Trembley's First Lady, gotten Mysterious Mo's autograph, planted a NASA rocket in an Aztec temple just to give those ancient alien morons an undeserved but funny win, and then come back to finish the job.

Well, hindsight, whatever. At least he had a list of things to do if he ever got his hands on that time tape again. Anyway, he was back now.

He didn't think he'd need to be asleep to get back into the gift shop, and he probably needed his full brain turned on for the task ahead. He pulled his hood off, opened his eyes, and woke up.

The world looked so much less malleable.

He fished a notebook and red and black pens from his backpack, picked his way through the rubble of the portal, and began taking notes in Plaintext on how many parts were salvageable. Every few minutes, he flipped a page forward to begin work on blueprints for a new portal.

####

(And that concludes... season 1. idk out of how many seasons, but it sure feels like a season finale, don't it?

Next week's The Book Of Bill y'all! I'll be posting a chapter, but which chapter depends on TBOB. If TBOB is either compatible with the backstory I've got for Bill, or so wildly incompatible that there's no way I can reconcile my backstory so don't bother trying, I'll be posting a flashback chapter! But if TBOB is compatible enough that i MIGHT be able to reconcile it with my backstory with a lot of editing, I'll be posting the first chapter of "season 2" to give me time to edit the flashback. We'll find out next Tuesday!

In the meantime, a whole lot happened in this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think—about this chapter, about everything that's happened so far, about what's coming up, whatever!)

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

A/N: After hours filth. Your boyfriend catching you getting off.

~*~

You should’ve known that your idea would’ve gotten you into this predicament. Caught red handed, legs wide open and knees cool from tile flooring, thighs aching with twisted blood rush. The silicone is pressed deep inside, your hands still resting on your nipples - just how he found you. It’s not hard to decipher what’s going on when he blinks the sleep from his eyes, caramel tresses in disarray, chain nestled in his overgrown chest hair, bare feet, and a pair of his black briefs, ones not concealing a damn thing, especially now.

“What’s this?” He questions, that honey heating up, rasp still clinging to his tongue.

You know he’d never shame you or control your pleasure, despite you being a couple. It’s a playful curiosity, yet one that borders on jealousy. Steve Harrington, with twitch of his jaw that makes that mole dance, those lips look more pronounced as he licks across them, tongue lolling out so far that it reaches his stubble bitten skin — is jealous of your dildo.

“My toy.” Is your soft response.

He shifts in the doorway, his length growing beneath the fabric, pressing uncomfortably. Bare feet pad on the floors until he’s kneeling in front of you, tilting his head to see you spread around it. And god, when he looks at you, nostrils inhaling, pupils blown so wide that remaining sleep curls away like wafting smoke, a thin amber ring surrounding an enriching black ink. You find yourself holding your breath as he leans in, nose nudging yours, breath hot on your mouth. His hand raises to cradle your cheek, thumb pad brushing ever-so-lightly.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I…” you accidentally move on the toy and let out a gasp into him.

He pretends to mock, mouth finding that space behind your ear that makes your hands drop from your chest and reach for his shoulders, digging in.

“You, what? Hmm, honey?”

“You’ve been working, so I just didn’t want to take your sleep away from you, baby. That’s all.” It’s the truth, one that has Steve softening, his gaze filtering back to your own.

“You could’ve used your smaller toys, or your vibrator. I wouldn’t have mind if you stayed in bed with me while you played with yourself, sweetheart.”

Your legs tighten around the length, a whine escaping your throat. An uncomfortable echo. You have to move. You know what will ultimately satisfy you. He knows it too.

“Or is it that you just had to have something inside of you?”

“Steve…” you dig your nails into his shoulder blades and he takes the opportunity to move his hands, letting them slink around your lower back, before locking in tightly, pulling you up against his chest, your naked breasts dragging through the soft curls, his necklace draped across your collarbones.

Both of you so warm, panting, rocking into one another.

“Judging by the size, someone missed my cock, didn’t she?”

“I told you I didn’t want to wake you, please —“

“Shh, honey.” He presses a finger to your lips, his massive palm digging into your lower back, the other on your waist, and he’s lifting you a few inches off the toy, pushing you back down seconds later, his mouth piece finding your earlobe, letting you in on a secret. “Your pussy woke me up. So fucking wet that I could hear you in here.”

Your jaw drops open. “You know I wanted you, I just couldn’t wait.”

A nod that shakes strands across his forehead. He’s perfect as he rises above you, cheeks tinted pink, offering his hands to you, easing you off the cock as you stand fully.

“Jesus Christ, honey. Look between your legs, won’t even have to prep you.”

Embarrassingly, you do look down and catch a strand of creamy arousal drip from your cunt. But Steve loves it, hands shoving into the elastic of his boxers. You’re practically drooling, taste buds ready, saliva pooling across your tongue, settling in the corners of your mouth.

“How do you want me?” You’re immediately blurting.

Steve smirks that signature, shit eating from, strutting the two steps forward, pushing his hand across your cheek, some fingers splayed down over your neck. He taps several times, contemplating.

“I wanna see your face when I give you what you want, and I want to be the one that gives it to you until you’re asleep, for the rest of the night. Do you get it, honey? That okay with you? Just let me take care of you.”

You’re letting him direct you into laying back on the bed, legs wide open, chest exerted in excitement as you watch him peel down his boxers, sticky with desire, collecting over the head of his thick shaft. Absolutely beautiful. Red, dusted in beauty marks, that vein, all the way to those full balls surrounded by his bush. He is receptive to how your eyes light up, body shifting, face wrinkling in discomfort, the need to be taken, to have. He holds onto himself, watching you as he spreads that shine all over, working into his fist, his tongue collected at the side of his inner cheek, poking.

Both of you craving a little extra edge, he senses.

“You want this raw, honey? Just me inside of you, nothing else? Risking-every-damned thing.”

You incline your head at a rapid pace. “Make it happen, Steve.”

That’s all he needs to know.

[eelnoise]

anamnesis (nsfw!)

zoro x afab!reader has a sequel kinda now cw: masturbation, solo m, pining, piv sex, some fluff wc: 912 an: zoro jerking off to reader during the timeskip has me in a chokehold. VERY self indulgent btw. tagging: @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @willowbelle @strawheart-pirate @themushroomofdeath

The damn island is too dark for anyone’s own good on most days, far too easy to miss a turn on the path back to the castle and subsequently ending up lost for a few hours. Countless times has Zoro wandered about the grounds absent-mindedly, thinking neither here nor there about where his feet take him, and countless times more has someone - usually the ghost girl - come to fetch him should he be gone too long.

But tonight sees Mihawk away, leaving him alone to train by himself for several days. Though usually up to the task of working on technique, he finds himself instead somewhere about the grounds with his back flat against a grassy hillside, eyes glued shut with one hand sprawled out on his stomach while the other hastily fists at his cock.

There’s a bit of shame to it that still lingers. Not of the act in itself but because at the very forefront of his mind all Zoro can see is traces of his limbs entangled with yours with clothes long shed and tossed aside, tucked away in some private corner of the ship having your fill of one another.

A soft grunt escapes from his lips as he pictures you above him, thighs at either side of his own with your hands tangled into fistfuls of his hair. He imagines his fingertips dipping harshly into the soft flesh of your hips, thighs - just whatever he can get his hands on while you roll your hips up and down on his length. 

Zoro can all but taste your lips upon his - a recurring pattern of this already unusual behavior from him - locked in a loop of increasingly messy, breathless kisses. He craves his tongue entwined with yours, wanting to capture every sound you make, to swallow each one to sate a sweet tooth reserved for you and only you.

In a moment that now feels like an age gone by, the two of you had shared a very passionate moment - one he can scarcely remember the moments leading up to. The kiss you had given him that night on the open sea - his first - just days before your forced separation nearly two years ago replays in his head on repeat, muting the nuances prior but sends with it a barrage of emotion he continues to struggle to bear yet yearns to understand.

It’s why the reverie behind his lids dances with visions of you and sings in the tune of your voice. It’s why his toes curl in his boots at the thought of your skin upon his in the most intimate of ways. It’s why he craves the whole of you, why he wants to somehow find the words to tell you how he feels, why he thinks of you before he sleeps and why he hears your voice bid him good morning each time he wakes.

And now, it’s why he’s desperately stroking himself and wishing beyond hope that his hand was your pussy instead. 

With his free hand he bundles the collar of his shirt between his teeth in an attempt to hide his own breathlessness. His legs bend at the knee in focus, and the sheer need that overtakes him in these final moments elicits a muffled growl from deep within his gut with the thought of just how good it would feel to fill you from the inside out and let proof of the act slide from your core and down his cock. 

Zoro tightens his jaw and sweat beads trickle down his face as his pace quickens, and suddenly he’s biting at the bit to know just how you sound when you cum. In his mind’s eye you’re clawing down his back while he takes control, fucking up into you in a starry-eyed chase of clemency. Your fantasized voice pants his name like a prayer in his ear, finally forcing your lips apart to break into pieces atop him. 

He wants to take you there and back again, needs to see your face twisted in delirium from something only he can supply. His head spins with the image of you writhing in his arms, yours holding onto him tightly when you tip over the edge. You cry out for him to keep going, you leave sloppy open-mouthed kisses along his neck, you whine and mewl and dig your nails down his back,muttering into his flesh about how good it feels or how much you-

How much you love him.

Zoro cums the instant the fictional you says the words in his head, the fabric in his mouth doing little to stifle the groans of pleasure playing from his lips while he covers his hand and lower belly in thick white spend with your name on his tongue, face in his mind, and voice in his soul. 

He slides his shirt from his shoulders and quickly cleans himself up. Sitting up on the darkened hillside with his elbows resting on his knees, Zoro sighs and raises his now halfened gaze to the heavens. Are you staring up at the same sky, wherever you are? He scans the endless ocean of stars above, missing the times where you’d be next to him on the deck pointing out the various constellations and explaining their meanings - and even though he still doesn’t believe in astrology, Zoro has each of your favorite ones memorized.

He wants to tell you he has a favorite one, too.

[suguru-getos]

࿐ soft yandere neuvillette hcs (f!reader) ࿐

neuvillette being a hydro dragon was always territorial of the things he held dear, whether it was his unyielding love for the melusines, or the love for the people of fontaine or the love for justice and the idea of it for the people. this has never been translated into an intense devotion for a human until he saw you. lawyering up oh so sweetly against one of your friends to defend the defamation case lodged against their business.

it was then — that your eyes lingered with the chief justice. for someone who holds a power so supreme — he sure had kind eyes. standing above all, having the ability to shut the whole opera house in a second with the stern daunt of his voice. he was enamoring too… but you didn’t know how enamored he was of you. for the first time neuvillette was getting distracted during a hearing. how your eyes fiercely spoke along with the entanglement of your words. how exquisite.

you won the case & the happiness which made your smile all the more beautiful with the glimmer of victory dancing all over it. you also got a chance to thank the chief justice, too. to which of course — he’d be kind enough and deny. “please don’t thank me. i am just doing my work here.” still, when neuvillette shook hands with you to depart, his eyes widened with the registering of a weird, twisted feeling inside of him. he wanted to protect you for life, mate with you, wanted to be by your side…

it was one of the weird times when it had been the sunniest after the trials. the people of fontaine were weirded out to find out no rains for the rest of the week. despite of the trials. truth been told, neuvillette didn’t have the time to be upset for anything because now he has someone he was invested in.

why waste time? neuvillette thought to himself, he had never approached anyone yet. so? when he approached your door and knocked with a tender smile, with a bouquet on his hands and a sweet smile just to ask if you’d be so kind for a date, you heartily agreed. heart fluttering throughout the date when he pulled your chair, ordered the same food as yours just so he can taste your likes. asking if you’d be so kind as to give him another date opportunity— kissing your forehead while dropping you home. things were beyond golden.

things started getting a little controlling after a first month or so. as someone who had a few friends who liked to travel, you’d find the chief justice of fontaine not so eager to allow you to move out of fontaine. “inazuma? do you understand how far it is from here?” he had a point, of course… “but one of my friend’s family is there and the vision hunt decree is abolished now and i—” neuvillette doesn’t yell at you, he’s too soft for that. “i believe i didn’t ask for any reply to that dearest. you will be here in fontaine. if you want, i can arrange that your friend’s family come here. they’d be given the most royal treatment-”

neuvillette also quickly shuts down any opportunity for you to be talking to someone unknown. it’s simple? he has met your friends in gatherings and they are intimidated and respectful of your man. the others would take too much of his time in dissection of their personalities. how does he stop you? simple — neuvillette gets needy. he would clutch you in his arms and pout. not wanting to let you go at any cost. “i missed you sweetheart.” you can’t help but give in.

he doesn’t do punishments. it is too heartbreaking for him to see you stressed and distressed of him of all people !! however there was an instance where you forgot to inform him & came back home at 2 am with a bunch of people partying. neuvillette didn’t take that lightly. you know this because that was the first time you were pinned against the wall. kind and tender eyes glowering down and enraged. you couldn’t help but sniffle for hours when neuvillette brought you over his knee for a spanking. he hated it when you cried, it was stormy in fontaine for the rest of the week <\3 why don’t you understand he just loves you so much it makes him lovesick!

to make it up for losing his temper — he would spoil you with so much love. it would get hard to breathe under the undying affection he gives you. kissing your forehead, bringing you your favorite food, letting you feel the freedom you felt taken away, anything and everything. would probably surrender and get on his knees, sobbing if you give him the silent treatment.

[revelboo]

Hey! Hi! Absolutely love your writing so much! I look forward to everything you post, and appreciate what you do a lot!! I’ve definitely come to appreciate and learn more about transformers cause of you!

Really just wanted to show my gratitude :]]]

Oh, and look what I’ve done to poor Megs

Thank you! Honestly, giant Roddy is probably his worst fear, because he can be so much more annoying

Everything Is Alright Pt 89

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Venting tiredly as he walks past Thundercracker in the hall, for a second Megatron can swear the other Seeker has the scent of human clinging to him, too. Must just be his imagination, though. Starscream? It’s not like he’d not realized the Seeker was a bit of a freak, but xenophilia? Fragging an organic alien? Maybe. Running a hand over his helm, he grimaces. Maybe it’s the size difference? The Seeker getting off on being bigger than a partner. But Soundwave? Both of them together when he’d been sure they hated each other? Surely, it’s not what it had looked like. Because seeing that interaction had left him with so many more questions. Two of his commanding officers can’t be deviants. Surely not. There’s a morbid sort of curiosity despite himself to figure it out, though.

• Trying to get yourself back in control as the panic attack shakes you, it’s their hands on you that ground you. Calm you. You’d known you’d been gone a long time, the guy who’d driven you home that night Star had tried to abandon you had said as much. Not realizing the actual time lost, but knowing it was long enough for everyone to have just assumed you were dead. Most of your family is on the other coast, you’d never been super close and it’s been a long time since you’d gone home to visit. Someone would have contacted them, though. Told them you were missing. Had that guy told the cops he’d taken you home? That you’d been found alive? Had they gone looking and found you gone again? Had your family been told, getting their hopes up only to have them dashed? Because you’ve been so wrapped up in yourself and Star and Soundwave that you’d barely thought of your family.

• Helm nudging the side of your head as you start to calm, Soundwave slides a hand under your shirt, surfing his palm against you to strengthen that connection. To try and understand what he’d done to hurt you. Feels that guilt twisting inside you, hurting. “I’m awful,” you whisper. “I didn’t really even think about them. At all.” Servos tightening on you, he retracts his mask and presses his mouth against your throat. Deepening that connection, but also because he needs to. Trying to comfort you with his touch.

• “Who?” Star growls, hands cupping your face, unsettled by those teary eyes as he runs a servo against your cheek. Are you talking about that other human? Grieving the stranger he’d seen in photos in your home? Whose belongings had been scattered among your own. Your breath mingles with his intakes as he tries to ignore Soundwave draped against your back. Hating the other mech still, wanting to lash out, but resisting so you don’t get more upset. Do you miss that other human? Regret bonding to him? Miss your freedom and that other life?

• Star’s lips brush yours, not a kiss just sharing the same breath. His tone was a demand, but his hands are gentle on you. Surprisingly patient when you know it’s not his strong suit. “I’ve been with you for months,” you say, not sure if he’ll understand. Or care. While he’s shown you time and again that he cares about you, you’re pretty sure it’s only you. Anything you adjacent, Soundwave, your family, he doesn’t seem to care about. He’s never even asked about your family, but you haven’t asked about his, either. You really are awful. Both of you. Wanting to ask if you can go home. Get your phone and at least call them to let them know you’re okay, but afraid that Star will refuse. “Everyone must think I’m dead.”

• Head lifting to glare at Star as the Seeker’s wings droop as if relieved that’s what’s wrong, Soundwave rumbles softly until the SIC looks at him. Sees Star curl a lip slightly, still furious with him and seeing him as a threat and a traitor. Surely, he’s not so dense as to not realize that he needs to say something. Even if it’s just to commiserate with your misery. Knowing the mech is selfish, but realizing how selfish is infuriating. Because anyone around you that’s not him is a threat, endangering you and his hold on you. That if not for Soundwave hearing you and finally investigating, the Seeker would have fully isolated you to ensure you can only look to him, only trust him. Only need him. “Can arrange for you to speak with them,” he says, watching Star tense at his words. He can arrange it so the communication can’t be traced back to their location. There’ll be no danger and you need this. Even if it’s saying goodbye, you need closure and he’s going to make sure you get anything you need. Despite Starscream.

Previous

Next

[crepezinhos]

Hii! Could I please request yan! Diluc and yan! Xiao with a darling on hunger strike?(basically she refuses to eat unless freed)

Ty 4 reading my request!

Starving For Love

POV: At the end of the day, despite all their twisted actions, words, and thoughts, you know they do it just because of the weird kind of love they feel for you. They’re cautious about everything that happens to you, to a point where you can’t have the freedom to hang out wherever you want. So why not threaten them with something they can’t control?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is an angsty SFW Oneshot

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains violent themes such as: starvation, self-harm, physical harming/abuse, forced marriage, imprisonmen, mentions of SA and lots of bad words

— AU is: Modern for both characters

— Abusive!Yandere!Xiao + Diluc

Xiao: Being on His Shoes

Xiao was a man that went through a lot. He was abandoned by his parents in the streets, which forced to learn how to survive as a homeless, hungry kid, barely making it through every day. Then, he was recruited by a man that basically enslaved him under a manipulative contract in exchange for a stable home, food and water. Even when he was saved by Zhongli, the country’s war general, and given a real, free life, he managed to lose all that he loved once again, but this time during an event that is now called the Archon War. If only he hadn’t volunteered to participate that day… he wouldn’t have met all the friends he made in the way or have to watch them all die in brutal, bloody ways. A shot in the heart, multiple gunshots, explosions, being kidnapped by the enemy… he had seen it all with those amber eyes and he definitely wished to never witness something close to it again.

That’s why when he met you and fell in love with you, he went paranoid. He couldn’t just let you roam free in the cruel world where you two live in. He could easily lose you to some stupid, or cruel reason if he let you have freedom to walk wherever you wanted.

He couldn’t even trust his loyal companions when it came to you. Maybe they would take advantage of his trust on them to take you away from him. Xiao didn’t understand that not everyone viewed you as this heaven-sent angel as he did. He thought you naturally attracted everything to yourself with your beauty, kindness, will to work hard, including men with bad intentions, so he decided to completely censor you for the world, only to be seen by his eyes.

And, now, you’ve been in this repetitive cycle of practically living in a chamber in his home for months. He was completely ignorant to any protest, either ignoring them or not even noticing them, which was making you run out of ideas.

But, now that you were reminded of the man’s past, thanks to Ganyu, your old boss, you had brainstormed an idea that could finally trigger him into saying ‘yes’, and tonight, you wished to test it.

“Adeptus Xiao went through a lot. From hunger to watching his friends die… he pretty much went through all miseries of the world and refuses to help himself. I apologize for his aloof manner, Ms. Y/N…”

You dearly missed to hear her sweet voice bossing you around. When Xiao wanted to boss you, his voice didn’t have any other motivation rather than his own selfishness, he simply wanted to own your soul. And let’s not mention how war-cry-like tone in his orders were when he was angry.

“Y/N.” The door of your chamber, where you were sleeping at, was finally opened. A comforting shine of the house’s upstairs’ lights came inside the room too, lifting up your spirit a little bit. “I made this for you.” He walked up to you with a plate of your favorite food, whose smell was mouth-watering to you.

“Thank you.” You decided to not get up from your bed, or stare back at him. Watching the few, unmoving stars in the sky you could see from the room’s window was more entertaining than him and his food.

Xiao thought that maybe you just weren’t hungry in the moment, and decided to place it in the ground by your bed gently. He wasn’t satisfied with the way you acted there, but he had no option but to leave. Just to make sure you were fine, as soon as he closed the door, instead of walking upstairs, he decided to lean his body down and peek his eyes through the peephole before. You remained immobile as expected, unaware of him being invasive to your privacy, but at least you didn’t seem to be trying to put in action some another stupid plan to possibly escape from him. That’s when Xiao finally decided to let go of you for now.

.

“Y/N?” You heard his voice right above your right ear, a little sharper than usual, causing you to wake up in a shiver.

You looked upwards, meeting his eyes wide and worried. Your stomach was constantly aching and rumbling for food now, specifically your favorites ones, but you decided to keep acting like nothing was going on.

“Why didn’t you eat your dinner?” He pulled the plate with food and showed it to you. Now, the smell of it wasn’t too pleasant.

“I didn’t like the food.” You managed to tell the lie smoothly. You’ve been rehearsing that for the past hours to make sure it was spoken normally.

“It doesn’t look like you’ve taken a single bite out of it.” He sounded more stressed this time, worried about the accuracy of your words.

“It didn’t look good. I couldn’t bring myself to eat it, I’m sorry.” Xiao was surprised at your words and your nonchalant attitude, just turning around to go to sleep like you hadn’t just almost cut his heart in half. No one, not even you when you were protesting, has ever said that his cooking was bad.

His concern immediately took over him. He grabbed the fork hanging at a corner of the plate and brought it the food.

Despite the fact that it was awfully cold and a little out of date, it still didn’t really taste as bad as you described it to be. It couldn’t possibly be worse when it was still fresh and warm.

“Are you… sure?” He couldn’t even believe he was asking you such a question.

“Yeah.” You shrugged your shoulders, a little nervous about staring at him in the eyes now.

“I should get you something to eat now, then—” Xiao immediately begun walking to the kitchen before even finishing talking to you.

“No.” You murmured, slightly quiet, but he still heard you like that was a scream, and stopped to look back at you again. “I’m not hungry.” You smiled at him, knowing it’d help convincing him.

“You’re… not?” Xiao was dumbfounded.

“No.” You shrugged your shoulders again and decided to lay down at the bed again.

Sleeping was the only thing you could do to ease your hunger pains and slow it down as much as possible.

“Ok…” His eyebrows frowned, beginning to suspect that you had other things in mind.

He decided to try avoiding any possibilities of you doing something against his rules, so, for the rest of the morning, he forced you to stay around him while he worked with many documents. Leaving you alone in a room where you’d have privacy to do whatever you wished to did not seem like a smart idea to Xiao. And, of course, it comforted him to have you around, despite your hatred for him.

But, of course, his mind was quickly unsettled by your disinterest in food. Xiao would’ve probably ignored it for a longer period if it wasn’t for his own experiences with hunger.

What a trigger you pulling on him.

As a kid, sometimes he would have to eat bugs, spiders, snow… so many messed-up digestible things to survive. He knows the feeling of starvation like it was his shadow. It was slow, painful, agonizing… so he obviously want to protect you from it at all cost.

“It’s 2 in the noon. You haven’t eaten anything.” Xiao finally exploded and expressed his concern out of the blue, stopping his document-reading to pay attention at you.

“I’m not hungry.” You repeated yourself.

“I don’t care!” Xiao finally stood up, slapping the table with both hands, making you slightly shiver on your spot. “I’ll bring you lunch.” He walked out of the room in a hurry, stressed and disturbed by your behavior.

He didn’t take long to, once again, bring a plate of the food he had cooked the day before. There was no way you hated his cooking that bad. He took your words in the most offensive way possible, and now he wanted to see you eat it to make sure you actually don’t like it.

Your face remained normal as he came back and approached you with the tray of food in his hands. He sat down by your side and begun forking the food for you, expecting you to respond obediently, but instead, you just kept staring at him like he was invisible.

“Open your mouth.” He brought the fork closer to your mouth but you simply grinned in response.

“No.” Your voice was normal, but it felt like a sting to him.

“I want to see you eating the food. If I see that you really don’t like it, I’ll cook something else. You could also help me cooking if that helps you.” Xiao’s eyes were barely blinking at that point, completely desperate to see the answers of his experiment.

“I’ve been saying it this entire time, yet, you still don’t realize it.” You looked down to giggle with a little bit more of respect. “I don’t want to eat.“ You rose your head again, courageous to pro rest, but Xiao still seemed to not get it.

“Hum?” He hummed in confusion.

You don’t way to eat?

Is that really what you said right now?

You want to starve until you’re crying in pain?

“I’m hungry, but I don’t want to eat. I’m not going to eat.” You crossed both your arms and legs while doing a staring competition with him.

“What are you talking about?” Xiao lowered the fork, anxiety already beginning to accelerate his heart.

“I’m tired of this, Xiao. I’m tired of living in some shit, gray chamber every single day of my life. I want my freedom back again.” Xiao’s eyes widened with that sentence, realization starting to take him.

Is that why you don’t want to eat your meal? You want freedom first? Freedom of what? You’re free in his house.

“Are you trying to negotiate your rights in this house?” Xiao’s voice was low, yet threatening like he was a fox, preparing to attack you.

“Yes, I am.” You remained unmoved, despite his adrenaline levels raising and his tone growing more violent.

“Do you want to be locked up in that room for the next 5 days?!” Xiao immediately threatened, standing up just to grab you by the collar of your clothes, which didn’t really make you flinch. “You’re not going to get anything. You’re good where you are. Now, be a good girlfriend and open your mouth.” Although he was trying to scare you into obeying him, the way his hands were trembling with anxiety made his threat look pathetic.

No… no… you can’t be preferring to be on his old shoes instead of enjoying all the modernity he offered you in that house. You can’t be preferring to kill yourself brutally and slowly rather than being his girlfriend.

Xiao grunted as he thought of those and genuinely tried shoving the spoon closer to your mouth, but your instincts reacted first and you flinched your head to the side, using your ams to hold and push his arm back. It almost worked for Xiao, but the food still couldn’t reach inside your red flesh. Even if it did, you could just spit it out anyway.

When Xiao thought of that too, he intensified his weight on top of you. He could control so many things of you, yet, he couldn’t control what your brain chose for your interns. Perhaps locking you in a room would be better for your little plan too, so what could he do?

What could he do?

What could he do?!

WHAT COULD HE DO?!?!

“No..!” You responded, barely opening your mouth to not let him possibly hold it on place and shove food down your throat.

“You better stop with this nonsense right now, Y/N!” Xiao’s eyebrows frowned even more, looking absolutely serious about your threat.

“I won’t stop with it until I get my freedom back, and there’s nothing you can do about it! Do you know how it feels to be stuck at home 24/7 with a person that’s not worth it?! I want my freedom back right now, Xi—!” Before you could rant all your feelings out of their gates, Xiao’s hand jumped on you, making way into your mouth and holding it open.

“Shut up… SHUT UP! You don’t want to do this, Y/N, you don’t!” Xiao repeated over and over while trying to fight the strength you were putting in your jaw to bite him. “You’re gonna eat this meal… you’ll be ok… and you’ll be grateful for the rights you already have..!” He started using his other hand to aim the fork of food inside you, causing you to try fighting him even more. “You can’t hate me… not this much… you can’t..! There’s no reason for you to hate me this much! I could be acting way worse, you know?! But I am merciful to you, and only you…” You’ve never heard him talk so desperately like that while managing to shove a few crumbs of food, inside your mouth, in which you quickly started pushing out of you with your tongue.. “EAT! FOR GOD’S SAKE, JUST EAT!” Xiao started bobbing and shaking your arms, trying to possibly wake you up from your delusion. “Why are you doing this?! Why?! Why?!?! I give you everything that you need to live safely!” He finally jumped away from you so he could continue ranting with more freedom, walking in slow circles around the room.

You started hyperventilating immediately, coughing too to make sure that was absolutely no nutrients going down your throat.

“Y/N, I know what hunger feels like… you don’t want to do this over something so stupid like freedom to go outside…” Xiao covered his face with his hands due to the trigger he was getting from his own memories. “Why would you even want it..? To go shopping?! I can do that for you!” You scoffed at his words.

“There’s no point in discussing this with you.” You shook your head side-to-side. “Let me have freedom.” You insisted another time.

But, unlike what you expected from the triggered man in front of you, did not submit to your wish, and this time he made sure you’d be punished for the agony you’re making him feel for your well-being.

.

You spent the next hours just screaming and banging the door of your cell, talking about how you’d not eat until you got your freedom and for him to let you out, over, and over, and over… until you fell asleep, disappointed at yourself for not calling his attention.

But you were wrong. Of course Xiao could keep his eyes on you even when he was far. There was a single, miserably small camera in a corner of the room that could move to every angle of the room that you never spotted. As soon as he counted 10 minutes of you not moving in the bed, he decided to climb down and visit you.

Although hunger was making you fall asleep easier and harder, Xiao knew that you were alert to every touch of his due to your disgust. So he has to keep his steps smooth, his breathing calm, and his touch barely sensible.

He very slowly closed the door, the ‘bang’ noise fortunately didn’t wake you up. Then, he gently stepped around the room in soft spots until he could reach his hands on you.

It reached a loose strand of your pijama’s borders and slowly pulled them upwards until he could mire most of your chest. Although your underwear and raw skin did distract him a bit, as soon as his eyes landed on your ribs, now with visible bone curves, twisted his stomach upside down.

He remembered when he first realized his slimness when he was a famine kid. He would rub his hands around his ribs, finding the curves of his bones cool to play with, but as soon as his stomach ached for some source of energy, he curled up in agony and sobbed, praying for food to somehow appear for him.

To think of you in such situation made his grip tighten instinctively in your dress. He would’ve sheltered you or anyone in that situation immediately. But, now that he’s in love with you, he specifically belies you shouldn’t ever go through the hardships of Liyue for no good reason, even if you want to. After all, it is one of the many reasons why he keeps you stuck in one safe place with no access to harm.

But… it still failed to keep you safe from harm or simply to make you like it. You were supposed to be feeling comfortable at his home, not starving yourself to get out of it. He hated to see you doing that to yourself because of him. What a mean trick of you to use such a method of self-harm against his sensibility. One that he directly relates to, one that he directly fears and repels.

He can’t let you do that.

He can’t let you feel what it feels like to step in concrete-made streets, or in snow, with care feet.

He can’t let you feel cold enough to have your fingers and nose burning due to the heat shock of it.

He can’t let you feel hungry enough to think a beetle could be nutritious.

He can’t let you sell your dignity for some poor, soulless cheater.

He can’t let no man take advantage of you and place their dirty hands on you.

If he went through enough misery being a man, the thought of what it would be the woman he loves in his place makes him want to vomit.

He can’t let you hurt yourself.

.

“Ms. Y/N?” You heard a female voice above you.

Your body shivered in fear. It’s been a while since you’ve last been waken up by one of Xiao’s house maids.

“W-What…” The first thing you felt was a sting in your stomach and rumbling noises coming from it. Hunger was really becoming serious now.

Your eyes were aching to close again and your arms were barely handling to hold you sat in the bed due to the lack of energy in you.

“Here.” She offered you a whole pile of documents organized in a folder. “I’ll be your assigned caretaker.” She bowed to you and begun walking away from the room to let you have privacy to read the documents.

You watched the Mai’s leave in disbelief. From that sentence, you assumed that you won the game you proposed and that made your eyes open in joy.

You quickly turned to the folder, and the first thing your eyes landed on when you opened it was a small, orange sticky note.

“Please eat before beginning to read this.

I’ll be back at 8. You have until that time to enjoy the city.”

You rapidly removed the note from the white sheet in which it was glued against after reading it, desperate to dig out the context for that note and to satisfy your hopes. Your eyes were flashed by a whole pile of white sheets with multiple essays written in Arial font and in black color. You quickly ran through various pages, meeting various titles and sections for it all, like you were reading a law. Finally, you went back to the first page, and decided to finally take a look at the enormous title at the top of the page.

Your Rights of Freedom

And you could swear a tear rolled down your cheek.

Diluc: Bipolarity

Diluc was a man that had all advantages over you, and he used those to trap you in his house and control how you acted. He had money, power, influence, security… everything that you didn’t have more of.

Your life, right now, could be easily described as “depressing”, and nothing else.

You had no freedom at all. You were forced to abandon your friends, family and career dreams, to become a traditional wife. All you were left with were the maids of his home, but Diluc still restricted your relationship with them a lot, or else they’d surely suffer enormous consequences. You couldn’t ever leave the house, not even to the backyards. Diluc wasn’t even sacred of the possibility of you running away or you telling someone about your relationship with him, he just wanted to have you entirely for him and his needs. A perfect wife who was devoted to him and happy to pleasure him. But, since he couldn��t achieve that from you naturally, he used those financial advantages to force you to devote to him. The only times you’d ever get out of that house was when he wanted to bring you out with him and possibly bond with you truthfully, but since you wouldn’t demonstrate any interest, he’d rarely do so. For some reason he still believes he has the chance of making you genuinely fall in love with him. Don’t blame him! He tried making you love him for many years, ever since the beginning of college, but you never saw him as anymore than a friend! Diluc, in the other hand, was so obsessed with you and your rejection to his confession that he could barely sleep comfortably. Thoughts of you and him together filled his mind 24/7. He dreamed to have you wearing beautiful dresses for him, especially the white one, with a bouquet of flowers in your hands. The only things that ruined how Diluc processed his feelings was his father’s death. He loved his father, but never quite appreciated his efforts truly. When he died, an avalanche of guilt was thrown in Diluc, making him feel worthless for many years for not being as grateful as he should been to his dad. He was so scared of ever wasting anyone he loved again that he decided to make you his before you could ever think about getting a boyfriend, instead of simply letting you go.

And if you disobeyed his orders, he would punish you in multiple ways, either physically or mentally. But, since your fears made you submit as soon as he threatened you of punishment, you’d never actually found a reason to fear Diluc.

That phase was the worst phase of your life. Having to abandon literally everything you’ve built and have been building was a poison that only rose deeper in your blood vessels. And to submit to a toxic man, and having to act like a perfect robot that couldn’t do mistakes was truly draining. You had a soul. You had passions. Not even some passions of yours were free to you. Films with violence or sex? He won’t let you watch it. Films with female empowerment? He won’t let you watch it. Romance novels? He won’t let you even think about it. You protested, and protested, and protested… but Diluc never heard you. You were his, by law, and while you were stuck in there, there was nothing you could do about it.

Don’t get him wrong, he hated to see you staring at nothing, wondering if this mess of a ‘marriage’ will ever end. But if it meant he could make you love him, even if it was due to a Stockholm Syndrome, he didn’t see much problems in imprisoning you like that.

Once again, you were tired of it all. You wanted to regain the confidence you used to have once again. Breaking his furniture wouldn’t annoy him, harming him wouldn’t annoy him, harming other people around wouldn’t annoy him, not even if you harmed yourself would be enough.

But… what if you harmed yourself in a way he can’t control? Because if you slash your wrists or throw yourself from the home’s third floor, he could still take you to a hospital and save your life. Because he can stop you from dying pretty easily. But what if the harm was in stomach, a place his hands can’t reach?

So, you made the choice of starvation for this month’s protest.

.

“Do you not like the food?” He asked to you while you simply stared at the plate in boredom with your hands in your thighs.

“I’m not hungry, my dear.” You said despite your desperate wish to eat that delicious, juicy, medium-rare beef the cooks had made.

Every time the words ‘my dear’ has to come out of you, it felt like a stab in your heart. How many angels have lost their wings yet with every time you were forced to call him that?

“Eat.” He demanded with a more real tone this time.

“I’m feeling sick, my dear, please.” You decided to put your hands around your belly to make your lie look more real.

“What are your symptoms?” He already seemed to suspect your words.

“Nausea. A heavy one.” You covered your face with your hands and started rubbing your fingers around your forehead, as if you were trying to act more ‘sick’ to him.

He remained quiet for a few seconds, judging your argument and trying to remember if you’ve acted like that throughout the day. Perhaps you could be lying, but illnesses usually show up unexpectedly, so there was a possibility of the same really happening to you right now. Maybe one of the things you ate today were rotten and were making you feel sick like that. He could already feel some anger rising in his veins, thinking about the punishment he’d give to the cooks that let rotten food reach your beautiful pink lips.

“Ok. Go to bed.” He ordered you, this time more sweet and trustful about your claim.

Thankfully, there was a TV in his room, which was what you usually used to make free time run faster. Since you had many “wife duties”, you’d barely have time to sit on that bed and enjoy yourself with that big screen, to instead, spend an insufferable amount of time with him. Spending hours watching whatever you wanted on it, since he wasn’t there to monitor, you enjoyed yourself like never before. It was a great time, and you were glad you got to enjoy a little bit of your life again before it was absolutely crushed.

.

“What do you want for breakfast today?” He asked while leaning down to put his leather shoes on, on the right corner of the bed, and you, putting on a cozy robe in the opposite side of the bed.

“I’m not hungry, my dear.” You were short with your words, and refused to look back at him.

He remained silent, but you could sense his eyes preying at you, pausing his own shoe-putting.

“What are you trying to do, Y/N?” His voice already sounded scary to you, but you unfortunately had to swallow it all down to keep posture.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what are you talking about.” You still tried to act like everything was alright.

“You’re always hungry for breakfast, Y/N, no matter if you ate dinner or not. How are you not hungry after a whole night without eating a thing?” He finally went back to putting his shoes back on, so he could get off the bed as soon as possible to walk up to you.

His tall, menacing figure, standing close to yours, made your body harden in fear and flinch away from him. You couldn’t do it. No matter how many hours of practice and self-reassurance, you couldn’t even make eye contact with him when he was standing like that. A threat.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Y/N?” He asked, but you couldn’t find anything to answer again. “Stay right there. I’ll bring you food first.” The sudden change in his harsh tone to a more normal one, made you swallow all your saliva down your throat in relief, feeling how badly it had accumulated and stuck to your mouth during this moment of silence.

As soon as you heard his steps growing quieter and quieter, you sighed all the air you couldn’t exhale previously.

You closed your eyes and begun doing a breathing exercise, knowing you were certainly going to go through something bad, but with some hopes that at least it would be worth it.

It didn’t take Diluc long to come back with a plate of your favorite meal. Your mouth salivated to eat it, but you simply looked away instead, causing your stomach to rumble in denial.

“Here.” He sat down by your side and lifted his arm with the fork in his hand, but you refused to even look at it. “Look at me, Y/N.” His eyes were barely bruising your skin with their intensity.

“No.” You firmly stated. That was probably the only word you’d be able to mumble without stuttering.

“Excuse me?” Diluc sounded a little ironic, which triggered you into finally standing up for yourself.

“I will not eat any sort of food u-until you l-let me..!” You had to breathe in and out a deeply before managing to gather courage to finish your sentence. “Until you let me have my freedom back!” You closed your eyes and screamed. Without seeing his face, you had courage to scream whatever you wanted to him.

You proceeded to hyperventilate, waiting for him to give an initial argument for you to debunk.

Diluc suddenly threw the fork in some corner in the room. The sound of silver crashing around the floor multiple times made your body flinch back hard, completely opposite to your bravery. You saw his hands laying in the bed right after, using them as a support to stand up.

Yeah, you’re done for.

You thought that sentence to yourself over and over while looking down, preferring to listen to the eery noises of wood cranking with every step of his than staring at his poisonous eyes.

You thought that sentence to yourself over and over while looking down, preferring to listen to the eery noises of wood cranking with every step of his than staring at his poisonous eyes.

But, instead of what you expected, he simply stared down at you from a really short distance, in one of the deadliest silences ever.

“No matter what you say… I’ll not give up until I get my freedom ba—”

SLAP!

Before you could even groan from the agonizing pain of his tough hand crashing against your soft skin, he forcefully pulled your chin back with his hand until you were staring at him again. Now, you finally managed to let out some gasps and moans of pain.

“What kind of nonsense are you trying to babble right now, hum?” He whispered like everything you’ve said yet was an unfunny joke. “You’re not going to get any sort of freedom. I don’t care what you do to fight for it.” He tried breaking your confidence down, obviously not allowing you to defend yourself.

He remained quiet for some seconds again, admiring your pathetic hope to get his hand off your chin.

Diluc sighed and suddenly used a few of his force to pull you closer to him and spin the both of you around, making your feet pathetically dance in the floor to keep yourself balanced in it, and then pushed you.

You weren’t really scared of that, since you figured you’d fall in the bed, but you were terrified of his intentions. Seeing yourself in such position under him while he stared down at you with a stoic face made you wonder of what he intended to do with you.

From saying mean things to you, from threatening the well-being of anyone you loved, from harming you physically, or even… sexually.

The natural female fear of rape, which was already further intensified due to the situation he forced you to be in, took you over.

“D-Don’t…” You couldn’t even cry for him to not harm you like that, only curl up your legs and pull the bed’s sheets to censor the view he had of your body.

Diluc never really assaulted you like that. It was pretty unreasonable to expect that from him. But the way he unconsciously mired down at your legs made you absolutely certain that he’d do it, especially considering the hundreds of disadvantages you had compared to him.

“Don’t what?” He unexpectedly turned away from you, walking to the other side of the room in a normal pace.

You hated how his mood would change like a light switch. It was barely predictable. It’d always make you act contrary to his intentions, which was either annoying to him, or funny. When you were afraid of punishment, when there was no punishment, made him proud of how he tamed you. But when you acted sarcastic or unworried when there was punishment, had his blood boiling.

You heard silver noises coming from behind. Diluc was picking up the silver spoon he had previously thrown to scare you.

“N-Nothing…” You finally managed to answer his question, still too scared to leave the spot in the bed he threw tou at.

“My dear.” He completed your sentence with a sarcastic, but angry, tone, like he was tired of having to repeat that order over and over.

“M-My dear…” You repeated like a scared noise, which he luckily found cute.

You saw him coming back to you, rubbing a piece of his suit in both sides of the fork.

“I hope you don’t mind this was on the floor a few seconds ago.” He sat down by your side again, immediately focusing on the plate that was resting between you two. “Open your mouth.” He ordered again, as if nothing that you previously said even reached his ears in the first place.

You frowned your eyebrows, barely gasping at his audacity to ignore you.

“I already said I’m not eating anything!” You found courage to stand up against him again, which made Diluc sigh in annoyance.

Diluc stood up again and didn’t have any patience before fisting his hands and unexpectedly using them against your belly. It was a single hard punch that barely knocked your stomach out of your mouth. You curled your body and groaned in pain, trying to hold your will to vomit back to its place.

“Are you really going to force me into doing this?” His voice was low, contrasting the quivering woman kneeling under him.

“Y-Yes…” Your mouth barely pooled saliva in the floor as you tried to resist that punch’s pain.

“It would be better for you if you stopped this nonsense right now.” Diluc pulled your hair all the way to the back, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

But you hardened your face and nodded side-to-side, knowing that was simply a manipulative trick of his to convince you into giving up.

Diluc sighed again, and this time, he forced you to look down, immediately meeting his knee hooking hard against your face. As soon as he hears your moan, he let his grip in your hair go too, which made you immediately fall into the ground to your back, knocked down. You could already feel your nose aching from being twisted and blood drips running down from you. With trembling hands, you tried wiping them off, no matter if Diluc was already stepping closer, this time with the plate in his hands again.

“I wonder what suddenly got you so confident like that. Did you consume anything inappropriate yesterday in the TV?” He kneeled down, beginning to aim the fork to your mouth again, thinking you were already defeated.

Even if Diluc was the kind of man to worship you and your beauty in every opportunity and take all care necessary to keep your body unharmed, what he did to you right now was the complete opposite of your expectations of him. You’d never know it, but in the end of the day, Diluc secretly thought you looked even prettier when you were bleeding, especially because it was done by his hands. The contrast in the color of blood and your skin was always something that called his attention, and seeing it in your beautiful face made him delighted.

This time, you wanted to clarify your protest, and allowed him to put the food in your mouth, only for you to turn your head to the floor and spit every single crumb of it, each one that he saw falling in the woods itching his nerves.

“Tch.” He rose his body up again, immediately proceeding to punish you physically.

This time, he decided to take the opportunity of your exposed neck and cheek to barely crush your head using his foot, stepping and rubbing the leather on your cheek mercilessly.

“Why the fuck can’t you just be a normal wife like in every other couple?! WHY?!” His foot uncontrollably raised from your face and moved down, beginning to kick and hook multiple spots of your body while he screamed “Why” a million times.

.

This was probably one of the most suicidal eras of your life. To be spanked until you were put in a hospital bed and to wake up to him immediately threatening to harm your parents if you didn’t give up in your stupid plan, or told anyone in the hospital about your relationship, when you couldn’t even speak due to the breather, was definitely a gut-wrenching nightmare.

You gave up in your plan. Thankfully, neither of you made any comments about it, even if he had every opportunity to shame you for your stupidity. That’s exactly what he used to do after one of your plans failed. He mocked you, shamed you and punished you. A true torture that you would have to endure every time you failed.

“Y/N.” He called you again as you ate dinner in opposite side of the table to him.

Your whole body flinched as you heard his voice call you. It’s been a week since your latest protest attempt and it’s been a week since you’ve begun flinching to every action of his directed to you. It was inevitable. It was your first time ever being a victim of such kind of brutal abuse. You were scared for your like to make anything that would possibly trigger him into doing it again. Although you could’ve begun acting like that on pirose to make him feel guilty, this time, your fear was genuine, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Yes, my dear..?” You still had to answer to his every call with that nickname just like he taught you to.

“Do you—…” He wanted to ignore it, but he couldn’t anymore, and sighed, giving up on the idea of ignoring you again, and starting over again. “Why do you flinch every time I interact with you? Is this another trick of yours?” He dropped his fork in his plate and begun staring at you with calm eyes, trying to get you to feel comfortable with him, or threaten you if you were lying.

You wanted to scoff at him, anger barely raising to the tip of your tongue with such ingenuity, but you swallowed it down. You don’t want to die yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.” You looked down and proceeded to eat, trying to make yourself less nervous.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” At this point, Diluc already knew you were lying about your ‘innocence’ when you lowered your head down so frenetically like that. “Is it because of last Monday?” You didn’t move any other muscle of your body rather than your jaw, biting your food as slow as a snail, to gather some courage before answering him.

When you finally swallowed, most of the accumulated saliva went down with the food too, preparing your mouth for speech.

“Is there any other alternative, hum?” You dropped your act for a moment and immediately shoved a piece of meat in your mouth again right after, fisting hard on the fork to not demonstrate him any more anger.

Diluc didn’t say anything else and just stared at you stoically for some good minutes before deciding to unpause his eating.

.

At bedtime, Diluc hugged you from behind as usual and fell asleep. You didn’t want to move a single muscle of your body, afraid he could get angry, practically curling yourself so he could hold you how he desired to and with ease. Of course Diluc noticed it too. You’d never slept so paralyzed by his side. Sometimes you’d even turn around and unconsciously hug him during your slumber, but now, he couldn’t feel a bit of comfort in the way you slept.

“Y/N.” He whispered, causing you to shiver once again.

You failed, didn’t you?

“Relax.” His voice immediately triggered you into obeying him.

You couldn’t relax your whole body, of course, but you did enough for him there, relaxing your legs and shoulders. It was enough for him not to bother you again with it.

Diluc was pissed. And your behavior was only growing his anger more and more. He did use fear to train you as a wife most of the times, but he never intended to make you so uncomfortable like that. He intended to slave you into loving him, not to slave you as an actual slave. You were doing so well previously, obeying him and still finding a few reasons to smile at him somehow, but not even gifts were turning you on now. Everything he did was like an alert to you

Why couldn’t you be a normal wife who dearly loves their husband? Every time he went to business-related parties and took you with him, he’d always meet his companions surrounded by their wives, who were happy to be holding their arms, to be wearing their rings, to be talking about their husbands to other women, while he didn’t get any of that from you. To everyone else, you were Diluc’s shy, weird and quiet wife, and now you’ve peaked those adjectives.

.

The alarm annoyingly ticked over and over, waking you up from your slumber. You couldn’t feel any weight around you, meaning Diluc had already gotten up. You sat up in the bed, leaning forward to turn the alarm off. You begun your morning by stretching your arms as usual and rearranging your pijamas back to their normal placement around your body, since they’d sometimes twist into really bizarre angles. While you prepared yourself for another depressive day, you heard the door to the bathroom slide.

“Good morning.” Diluc stared at you while walking to the closet in the opposite side of the room.

This morning, you attempted to not answer his greeting. You just weren’t in the mood of it, although that could’ve meant you’d get punished.

“If you’d like to go out today, I’ll assign a maid and a driver to take you anywhere you want to go.” His words caught you unexpectedly, especially since he was talking so neutrally about it, not even looking at you.

“W-… What..?” You could swear your eyes were shining in excitement.

“You heard me.” He refused to repeat his previous words, shrugging his shoulders as he ran his hand through his many hanged suits.

“I can… leave..?” You could feel your eyes get slightly wet.

“Yes. You have until 7 to come back. If you come home tardy, I’ll make sure your right of freedom will be reduced to zero again. And I believe I shouldn’t need to mention the consequences what will happen in case you tell anyone about our marriage.” Diluc quickly got dressed and left the room before he got any more flustered from hearing your sighs of relief and excitement. At least he was happy he managed to bring genuine joy to his beloved wife. “Goodbye.” He greeted before closing the door.

And a tear ran down your cheek.

From the relief of knowing that all your hard work had made profit.

Taglist: @the-stinky-winky @amoyanderes @kindofshyent @shyentsfoundherink @bigmantiddys @goofy-ego @luminieee

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

[godslino]

IN CONTROL | jeongin established relationship. college au. smut. minors dni.

pairing: jeongin x fem!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: explicit content, swearing, soft!dom jeongin, unprotected sex, sex toys (vibrator), public humiliation (kinda), fingering, piv, spanking, creampie summary: jeongin buys a new toy and decides to test it out in the library

· · · ♡ masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

“This is the best idea I’ve ever had.” Jeongin mumbles, his eyes dark, trained on your every move.

Jeongin is a menace, insatiable, constantly finding different ways to turn your sex lives up a notch or two when he has the time. And tonight, he’s trying something new.

Well, you both are.

The library is unusually busy for a Friday night, you realize, as you squeeze your thighs together and pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth. Jeongin’s still watching, probably has spit pooling in his mouth at the sight of you squirming in your chair. He does little to hide the slight upturn of his mouth, and it only serves to turn you on more.

There wasn’t much that could have prepared you for what he had waiting the minute you strolled into his apartment earlier, his eyes sparkling when you planted an innocent, unknowing kiss on his cheek.

“What’s that look for?” You had asked, raising an eyebrow when his smile only grew.

“We’re still going to the library tonight, right?” He asked, hand on your waist as he caged you in against the counter of his kitchenette. His fingers flexed atop the fabric of your jeans, already excited, itching to touch.

“That’s the plan. Unless you don’t want to, but I really need to study for my philosophy debate next week and—wait. What is that?”

“Surprise.” He said, pulling a small box out from behind his back. You let your eyes dart between him and the gift, something like anticipation swimming around in your gut. It wasn’t a holiday, or an anniversary, and Jeongin really only ever got that look in his eye when he—

You pulled the lid off, eyes going wide at the site of a pair of lace underwear sitting in a bed of tissue paper. Beside it, a small remote.

“Is this…”

“Mmhm,” Jeongin hummed, placing the box on the counter so he could pull you in by your hips for a kiss.

Painfully slow, his tongue worked your mouth open with force, cock already pathetically hard beneath his sweatpants at the mere thought of having you at his full disposal.

“You put these on before we leave, and if you show me that you can handle it,” he paused, dropping his voice an octave lower, the resulting growl enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ll bring you back to my place and reward you.”

That’s how you found yourself here, seated at a table towards the back of the library, the soft lull of a vibrator against your core as Jeongin controls it with a remote hidden in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“You seem to be—mmnf—enjoying this.”

Jeongin smirks, wets his lips. Even with the way his hair falls into his eyes, it’s hard to miss the hunger in them.

“You have no idea.”

Despite his outward facing, saccharine sweet demeanor, Jeongin harbors an almost animalistic desire beneath toothy grins and shy rubs to the back of his neck.

When you first met, you found him cute and quiet, too reserved to even spare a glance in your direction for the most part. Not that you were any better, but to say you were shocked the moment you and Jeongin finally fell into bed together is an understatement.

Of course, it took a few times for him to let loose, to feel comfortable enough to let go and have you take him fully, but once he did he couldn’t stop.

Jeongin is all rough hands and filthy words, guttural moans and spit stained sheets from when he gets too drunk on the taste of you that he can’t be bothered to clean it up. The worst part? You love it. You love the praises he whispers and the secret touches he gives when no one is looking, love the way his eyes will find you from across the room and undress you inside and out, your stomach twisting and turning from just a single upturn of his lip. Jeongin throws your world on its head, satisfies you in ways you never thought possible.

“Jeongin—ah.” His name comes out as a broken moan, the vibrator pressed tight between your legs. He must be cranking it higher, the sensation getting more and more intense, the squeezing of your thighs barely enough to contain it.

“What was that?” He asks innocently.

Jeongin leans back in his chair, far enough for you to see the way his hand twitches in the pocket of his sweatshirt, a stronger vibration following immediately after. “I didn’t quite catch what you were trying to say.”

Torture. That’s the best way to describe this. Jeongin’s been edging you for the past fifteen minutes, waiting until the last second, when you look like you’re about to come undone, only to lower the setting and leave you whining behind the screen of your laptop as you hide your face. It was more bearable when he had it set to a constant speed, but now, you’re barely managing to hold it together

You’ve waited too long, pretended to be taking notes for what feels like forever, when you finally decide to beg him for relief. “Jeongin, please, can we—”

“Hey lovebirds!”

The world, seemingly against you, decides that now is the best time to send a crescent-eyed Hyunjin waltzing up to your table. He’s got one hand wrapped around the strap of his bag, hair tied back into a ponytail, and he looks an awful lot like he has enough free time to make small talk. How cruel.

Unsurprisingly, Jeongin’s smile grows. The vibration increases between your legs. Fucking hell, he looks like a kid in a candy store, teeth on full display. “Hey Hyune! What are you doing here?”

“Oh Innie, I ask myself that every time Old Yeller over there tries to sweet talk me into taking her granddaughter on a date.” He jerks his head in the direction of the help desk where Mrs. Jung is already staring at him over the top of her glasses.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes before turning his attention to you, “Long time no see, y/n. Tell Yang to start bringing you along to hangouts so we can talk about him behind his back.” His eyes disappear into his smile, and you do your best to reciprocate.

“She would never.” Jeongin says, eyes narrowing in your direction at the exact moment the vibrator begins whirring with more intensity.

You take a deep breath, white-knuckling around your pen as you fight to suppress a moan, “Mmhm. Sure thing. Sounds fun. I’ll make sure to be there next time.” You pause after every few words, giving yourself just enough time to collect your bearings as Jeongin continues to wreak havoc against your throbbing core.

Hyunjin, bless his heart, doesn’t seem to notice. He smiles—beams even—before his eyes fall to the open philosophy book next to your laptop. “Oh, shit, you’re in that class too? Must be a different section than mine, but I haven’t even started reviewing anything. Seungmin’s going to beat my ass before the debate.” Jeongin’s thumb brings the vibrator up one notch. “Do you mind if I take a peek at your notes for a sec?”

Yes, you want to say. But you can’t, you know you can’t. And, more importantly, Jeongin knows you can’t.

“Yeah sure, I—hah—it’s uh, it’s all in here.” You say quickly, turning your laptop a bit so he can see the screen.

“Fucking bless. You’re a lifesaver.” Hyunjin says in relief, oblivious to your little slip up.

Jeongin saw it though, heard the way the moan almost fell from your lips. He’s been painfully hard the entire time, straining against his underwear, cock swollen from how badly he’s turned on. Hyunjin showing up doesn’t do much to help, only adds to the thrill of it all. You look so pitiful trying to hold it together, trying to hide how good you feel. To hide the way Jeongin is controlling how good you feel.

You’re being good for him. So good. He could bend you over the table right now if he wanted, fuck you so the whole student body can see for all he cares.

You visibly relax when Jeongin brings the intensity down, your legs shaking as you slowly relieve some of the tension off of your aching thighs. The knot in your stomach is still there, sitting on the precipice of release as the dull hum of the vibrator continues. You’re so close it’s almost terrifying, unable to predict what you'll do when Jeongin finally gives you the satisfaction of letting go.

As if he can read your mind, Jeongin’s foot knocks against your shin under the table. You shift your gaze up to him, cock an eyebrow as if asking What? Done for now? to which he replies with a wink. Challenging. You lick your lips. Jeongin’s dick twitches in his pants.

“I don’t know why,” Hyunjin says, squinting at the screen, “But I have this feeling that Professor Kang is going to give our class the question about free will. Like, whether or not we have it. So if I was going to argue from the standpoint of compatibilism, that means I’m only speaking for instances where external constraints are absent, right?”

“Well, yes,” you begin, leaning in closer, “But you have to remember that compatibilism doesn’t mean that humans are free, though. Always make sure that—” Jeongin’s foot starts sliding up your leg, stopping right at the inside of your knee, “—that, uh, you don’t confuse your stance with one of the other three perspectives.”

Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. “Yes, but, if there’s an absence of external constraint shouldn’t that mean they’re free in a way? The constraints are what’s stopping them, no?”

You blink hard, eyes fixed on the screen as you try to refocus your attention on what Hyunjin is saying. “Y-Yeah, but, sometimes you—” Jeongin’s foot slowly pushes your knees apart until your legs are spread wide beneath the table, enough so that your folds are no longer separating the flat side of the vibrator from your clit. He gives no warning, no time to process what’s happening until your entire body jolts forward from the force of the vibration against your now exposed clit.

“Woah, are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, eyes wide. You let out a few hesitant breaths as you straighten back out. Jeongin’s foot is firm against your left knee, forcing it open as he innocently fiddles with the corner of his notebook.

He’s playing a dangerous game, tiptoeing the line between teasing and just being downright cruel. Jeongin supposes that the ideal situation would not be for you to come undone right here at the table, Hyunjin’s eyes on you as he waits for a response, lips parted in confusion and concern.

“I’m fine I’m just—”

“Actually, we have to go.” Jeongin cuts in, glancing at his watch. “I forgot that we have a dinner reservation at seven. Must’ve slipped my mind. You can email him the notes, yeah babe?”

You blink at him in surprise, swallowing when his foot trails the length of your leg until it’s resting back on the ground. The vibrator turns off, and Jeongin lifts his eyebrows in a silent signal.

“Y-yeah! Of course,” you turn to Hyunjin, “Sorry, I don’t mean to cut it short. You can definitely text me if you have any more questions though.” Your voice is strained, throat tight with anticipation. Jeongin is looking at you like he could eat you alive, and it takes everything in you to not moan right then and there even without the sensation of the vibrator against you.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah totally. I don’t want to keep you guys any longer,” Hyunjin says happily, his eyes taking on that familiar shape, “Have fun you two! Also, Yang, I’m watching you. You’d better invite her out with us next time!” He calls out, pointing two fingers at his eyes before turning them in Jeongin’s direction as he walks backwards towards one of the study rooms. Jeongin gives him a lazy wave before focusing his attention back to you.

“All of a sudden?” you ask, not bothering to lead in with anything else.

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just starts shoving his things into his bag. You watch him for a few moments, eyeing him carefully. Is he…mad? No, right? There’s nothing you could have possibly done to piss him off. If anything, you're the one who should be mad at him for making you look like a fool in front of Hyunjin.

When it’s clear that Jeongin isn’t in the mood to talk, you slowly start packing up your own things. Your legs feel like jelly once you stand, aching from the knot of arousal that’s still sitting low in the pit of your stomach. Jeongin lets his eyes trail your body before he pushes away from the table.

“Come on, let’s go.” He mumbles, eyes dark. You open your mouth to say something but he pays no mind, just grabs your hand and heads straight for the door.

//

The walk is silent. Jeongin only grunts in greeting at the person behind the front desk of his apartment building, hurriedly making his way to the elevators as you struggle to keep up, his grip on your wrist the only thing making sure you’re close behind. Jeongin doesn’t say anything during the ride up to his floor, either. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t react.

You’re at your limit when he punches his code into the keypad of his apartment, flinging the door open and ushering you inside. You’re about to confront him, about to turn and ask what you did wrong and apologize for whatever it might’ve been when he slams the door shut and yanks you by the wrist, pulling you with enough force to have your back against the wood in a matter of seconds.

One hand above your head, palm flat against the door, Jeongin uses his other to cradle your jaw and slam his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your hands fly to his hair immediately, tangling themselves in the softness of it, pulling slightly to elicit a groan out of him just the way you know he likes.

“Did so fucking good,” he mumbles against your lips as he drops both of his hands to press your hips further into the door. “Gonna reward you now, yeah? Gonna make you feel good. Give you what you want.”

You clench around nothing as his words shoot straight through you, nothing but heat spreading throughout your entire body as his mouth works hot against your neck. You squeeze your thighs together for something, anything to relieve your want for more.

“Jeong—fuck, please.” You whine when his hand slips into your pants, and you feel him smile against your neck.

“Look at you begging. Always so good for me, so needy.” His fingers grip the end of the vibrator as he slips it out of the pocket of the underwear and tosses it somewhere on the floor.

You gasp, your eyes flying open. “You’re going to break it.”

Jeongin chuckles, “I’ll buy another one.”

“You can’t just waste money on that.” You groan and pull his head back by his hair, “I bet it was expensive too, wasn’t it?”

“I’d spend any amount of money if it meant I’d be able to see you look that fucked out in public again, baby, trust me.” Jeongin smirks. “Now, can you ride my face or are we gonna continue to argue about my financial responsibility?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, smirking when Jeongin’s eyes flicker to them. He takes it as the okay, drops to his knees, and smiles in satisfaction at the hiss that leaves your mouth once he pulls your jeans down to your ankles and the air hits the wet fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, look at you,” he sighs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to each of your thighs. Your legs start shaking almost immediately. “Can’t believe you’re mine.” He mumbles as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and pulls them down your legs, helping you step out of it.

Jeongin cups his hands under your thighs, thumbs pressed to the inside of them, and then spares one last look up at you through thick lashes before he’s leaning in and licking a stripe up your folds. You nearly collapse then and there, but his hands hold you up, grip firm.

“Holy fuck,” you groan. Jeongin hums against you, licking and sucking at your clit like his life depends on it. He feels like it does. He can’t help but pull back and admire how red and swollen you are, sensitive as hell from all the edging, your wetness practically leaking all over his chin. He lets you fist at his hair as incoherent words tumble from your lips, lets you grind your hips into his face as he stiffens his tongue so you can fuck yourself on it, his nose brushing your clit every so often and sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It’s good, so fucking good, Jeongin’s always known how to push your limits in a way that has you trembling and craving more.

“Right there,” you gasp, your thighs clenching as you shake in his hold, your peak reaching faster than you expected it to. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Jeongin flattens his tongue and begins lapping at you pathetically, bringing a hand up to start pumping two fingers in and out of you at just the right angle. You cum all over his fingers, hot white flashes clouding your vision as your hips stutter, his left arm keeping you firm against the door. He lets you ride it out, sucks lazily at your clit until you’re jerking with every touch of his mouth to your core, too sensitive for him to continue.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up, hair completely ruined and pupils blown wide with desire. He leans in to kiss you, more gentle this time, and he laughs into your mouth when you all but melt into his arms and he has to tighten his grip to hold you up. You moan when he tilts your head back and licks your bottom lip, to which you open for him, and he kisses your own arousal into your mouth.

“Think you can keep going?” He asks.

You don’t answer, just snake your hand in between your bodies and cup him through his sweats. He’s hard, practically straining against his underwear.

“Your turn.” You whisper, walking him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the couch and he falls on to it. He spreads his legs wide, watches with heavy eyelids as you stand before him and remove your shirt, leaving yourself fully exposed for him to see.

“God you are…” he trails off when you move towards him and climb onto his lap, grinding your hips down against him and no doubt leaving a wet spot on the outside of his sweats, “…fuck.” He groans, throwing his head back as he presses his thumbs into your hips to help you press down harder.

“I’m what?” You ask when you begin trailing kisses down his jaw, loving the way his stubble scratches against your lips. You suck at the spot just below his ear, still grinding against him.

“Everything I’ve ever fucking dreamed of.” He sighs.

You pull back until your noses are barely brushing and stare into his eyes for a moment. “What?” he asks as he starts rubbing circles into your hip bone with his thumb.

“Nothing I just…” you trail off, eyes still searching his as he stares back at you with an overwhelming amount of adoration.

“…I just really want to suck your dick right now.”

Jeongin barks out a laugh, loud and punctuated, before his head falls forward onto your shoulder and the remaining giggles are nothing but choppy breaths that ghost your nipples.

“What?” You laugh, hitting his shoulder. “I’m serious!”

He picks his head back up to look at you, eyes disappearing into the smile that’s on his face, and leans forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “I know, I know, I just—I love you, that’s all. I. Love. You.” He punctuates every word with a kiss, but you chase the last one until his lips are slotted against yours hungrily once again, his hands dropping to cup you from behind.

You inhale deeply before sliding off his lap, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of him. Jeongin lifts his hips just enough for you to help him slide his sweats and underwear off in one fluid motion and then yanks his sweatshirt over his head, leaving him fully naked and sinking back into the couch cushions. With his legs spread wide, cock hard and swollen pink against his stomach, messy hair and wide eyes, you think about just how lucky you are to call him yours, to be able to have him in every way possible.

Without wasting too much time, you rest your hands on his thighs and lick along the underside of him, tracing the vein there with your tongue and then sucking off the precum at the tip. “Shiiiiit,” Jeongin moans, throwing his head back.

You grab at the base of his cock and take him fully without warning, sinking down until he hits the back of your throat. He’s big enough that he fills your mouth completely, spit dribbling out of the sides as you work the bottom half of him with your hand, moving in time with your lips as you bob your head up and down.

“Holy fuck, shit, fuck,” the words tumble from his lips as he keeps a steady hand on the back of your head. You look up at him, a single tear spilling from the corner of your eye. He watches with parted lips for a second before pulling you off of him, a string connected to where spit is pooling on your chin.

“I am not,” he says, out of breath, “Cumming unless I’ve got you around my cock.”

You smile as you scramble up and onto his lap, planting your legs on either side of him. He raises an eyebrow in question, “Aren’t your legs tired?”

“Not for you they’re not,” you say as you reach behind, your hand using your leftover spit to pump him a few times. “Now shut up.”

Jeongin laughs and puts both hands behind his head, arms on full display as he leans back, “Yes ma’am.”

The moans you both let out the minute you sink down on him is so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed. If his neighbors didn’t already know what you were doing, then they definitely do now. Jeongin’s shoulders are firm where you anchor yourself to him, using his body as leverage while you ride him to high hell.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, his hands finding your breasts immediately. Sometimes you forget how big Jeongin’s hands are, both of them cupping you completely, only your nipples peeking out between his fingers as he kneads your chest.

“Bet you liked knowing how wet I was for you while I was talking to Hyunjin, huh?”

Jeongin won’t admit it, but he loves it when you talk to him like this during sex. He likes to feel in control, likes to have his way with you, but on the flip side he loves when you take initiative too. You can feel him twitch inside you at your words, his hips jerking upwards to meet your movements.

“You liked knowing you were in control, that you could make me cum at any second and I’d have to hide it, maybe squeeze my legs to stop myself. And the poor guy, he wouldn’t have a clue. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if I started whimpering and shaking, would he? And it would all be because of you.”

Jeongin responds by bringing a hand down on your ass with a loud smack, your body jolting forward into him from the force. It only spurs you further, your knees on fire from exertion.

You can feel the mark blooming, a big red handprint sure to be visible by the time you wake up tomorrow morning. Part of you wants to get it tattooed there, to have a permanent reminder of Jeongin on your body, to always know what it feels like to be wholly and unconditionally his.

“God you’re so fucking nasty,” he all but growls into your ear, his mouth hot as he connects his lips with yours, tongue licking eagerly into your mouth. “Close.” He grunts.

Jeongin sees stars when you lean back and prop yourself up on his knees, planting your heels into the couch on either side of him so you can fuck yourself onto his cock at a better angle. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing mercilessly while he bucks his hips up to meet your movements halfway.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Jeongin—!”

The sensation of you clenching around him as you cum makes Jeongin’s own release follow shortly after, both of you moaning and swearing as you ride it out together. He lets you fall into his chest, rubs a soothing hand up and down your back as you both attempt to calm your breathing and reel yourselves back to reality. His skin is sticky with a sheen of sweat, your own forehead damp and legs shaking.

Jeongin sighs and brings a hand up to tangle in your hair while his fingers massage your scalp. You pull back, staring at him in confusion.

“What?”

Jeongin blinks a few times before he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’ve definitely ruined me for anyone else.”

Although he meant it in a sweet, endearing way, you narrow your eyes and poke a finger into his chest. “Why are you saying that as if ‘anyone else’ is even an option?”

He throws an arm over his face, “You know what I meant.”

“No, actually, I don’t think I do—”

“You literally just rode me into oblivion. I bought you vibrating panties just so I could—”

“—I can’t believe that after I just broke my knees for you that’s the first thing you say!”

Jeongin bursts into a fit of giggles when you dig your fingers into his ribs, squealing when he tosses you off of him and you roll on to the side of the couch. “Okay, okay! Let me make it up to you, just stay there.” He says before disappearing into the bathroom. When he reamerges, he’s got a wet washcloth, which he uses to wipe you down before kissing the pout off of your face.

Not long later, when you’re both showered and he’s got you draped across his lap in a pair of his sweats and one of his hoodies, Jeongin chances a tap on your shoulder.

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily.

“So, you never explicitly said it, but on a scale of one to ten…if you were to rate my gift…”

You huff out a laugh, turning so that you’re on your back in order to look at him. “Definitely a ten. Could do without the borderline public humiliation next time, though.”

Jeongin leans down to press a kiss to your lips, smiling when you wrap your arms around his head to hold him there for a while longer. “Noted. As long as you never say one of my friends’ names during sex ever again.”

“Why? You sounded like you liked it.”

“Shut up.” Jeongin groans, resting his forehead against yours. It has to be an uncomfortable position, his entire body hunched over at nearly a ninety degree angle to even reach you. “I was balls deep inside of you when it happened. Completely out of my mind. But then, when I was in the bathroom taking a piss five minutes ago I was like, what the fuck? So yeah. No public humiliation as long as I never have to hear Hyun—”

Jeongin’s phone vibrates a total of three times on the couch next to him, cutting him off. He eyes it for a moment, confused as to why anyone would even be messaging this late, and then laughs when he finally picks it up to read what was sent.

“Speak of the devil,” he scoffs before turning the screen towards you.

hyunjin

yo yang

sorry to bother

you think y/n could email me those notes now?

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Looking for Part 2? Click here!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.