#but this bullshit lately is so insanely annoying

[fuckyeah-bears]

literally exerting sooo much self control and impulse control not to snap back at idiots replying stupid shit on my posts. people are annoying as fuck sometimes. like if you have 'commentary' about how i interact with shit and answer asks, you can literally fuck off. i spend absurd amounts of time trying to be nice and provide specific bears and nice replies to people at their request. and then the one time i get slightly irritated people freak the fuck out and start lecturing me about being 'unprofessional' and 'rude' and 'obnoxious' like im sorry but fuck all the way off. this is fucking tumblr. nothing about tumblr is professional. i don't have to provide y'all with bears. i don't have to make a pinned post to explain myself. newsflash, i already have a pinned post that i'm rather fond of. i don't have to act or respond to things any kind of way. i choose to respond kindly with nice encouraging messages and provide bears, and spend ridiculous amounts of time looking up specific requested bears for people. i choose to do that because i want to make people happy and spread some positivity. i choose to do that because this world is shit as fuck sometimes and i want to create a little space free from drama and negativity where people can enjoy bears and get a little reprieve from this shit ass world and the bullshit of life. i choose to do all that because i want to. but heaven forbid i'm not in the mood 100% of the time to always be perfectly nice and happy and go-lucky. and then i get shits giving me crap over it like i'm somehow obligated to do all this shit for free and always respond exactly the way they desire me to. and it is pissing me the fuck off. because i genuinely put so much effort into bearotonin and trying to make other peoples' lives better in this one tiny small way. i have a life y'all. i have a job and school and an actual adult life with responsibilities. but i choose to do this because i love bears and i think bearotonin is hilarious and making people happy is something that makes me happy. but i don't owe anyone anything, and if you have complaints about the way i comport myself or respond to messages or posts i make, well you can fuck off. i don't want to hear it. you don't need to reblog my posts and tag them with little messages about how you disagree, or write replies/comments saying i should act better or should be expecting this, or send me stupid asks. you can literally keep your negative thoughts to yourself. because people need to fucking realize that your tags are not private. if you put them on a post, the op is going to see them. and in this case, the op is going to be super pissed off by them.

to be clear, 99% of people are awesome and super nice and i love y'all dearly (and this post is absolutely not about you in any way), but the other 1% are really getting on my fucking nerves right now and it is taking a lot of effort to not engage with them directly and tell them to fuck off to their faces

[orcelito]

Oh yeah so for my UX design class. Our final project is creating some sort of app that links to a wearable fitness device. Like a fitbit. And my group's doing a lil tamagotchi thing, whatever. It's kind of dumb but this class is kind of dumb anyways. I suck it up and do it regardless so that I can graduate.

Anyways so we actually only came up with this idea on Monday lol. Barely done any work on it. But the guy in our group got a fuck ton of interviews yesterday for it, and thank GOD he did bc GUESS WHAT!!! The "check-in" that we had today that was Supposed to be the TA walking around to talk to groups ended up beinggggg INFORMAL PRESENTATIONS!!!!!!!! And no one was fucking ready for it bc on Monday she'd asked for us to choose between presentations or individual discussions and we chose individual discussions. But I guess she decided to do presentations after all.

And well ok so I have a habit of being a little late to this class every day. It's a 3 hour studio and so long as u get there within 15 mins they're chill about it. And today was extra sucky cause I got RAINED ON like pretty hard. Cold ass rain. My jeans were soaked. And well that sucked pretty hard.

But I walked in to find that they were doing PRESENTATIONS and I was like Aw Fuck. And see the thing is, 2 of my groupmates in that class are always *very* late. Like half an hour to an hour late, if they even show up at all. So I couldn't count on them. And my remaining groupmate is the quiet type, so I couldn't count on her either.

So I was like. Aw, fuck. It's up to me.

Sat there in the 5 or 10 mins I had while other groups were presenting to review the interview results from yesterday (I hadn't even looked at them yet 😭😭😭) and then I fuckin gave an informal presentation on the fly about our project that we Totally didn't start working on only 2 days ago (lol). And the thing is. Somehow???? We had the most work done out of the class?????? Most of them hadn't even done interviews yet 😭😭😭😭 like this is due on the 2nd and next week is Thanksgiving break 😭😭😭😭 there is NOT much time left!!!!!!!

But yeah I was riding that high of carrying that presentation for us. I'm so Fucking good at bullshitting.

[zweigsangel]

it started with the faint buzz of your phone on the nightstand, vibrating so persistently it startled you out of half-sleep. you grabbed it, squinting at the screen to see chris's name flashing. it wasn’t unusual for him to call, but at nearly two in the morning? that wasn’t normal.

“what the hell do you want?” you answered, voice raspy from sleep. “yo,” he slurred, dragging the word out. his voice sounded distant, like it was fighting through static and something else.

you sat up, rubbing your face. “are you drunk?”

“nah,” he said, then paused. “well, kinda. not drunk. high. like, really fuckin’ high.” there was another pause. then he laughed softly. “sorry, is that rude? don’t know why i’m apologizin’. i just—fuck, nevermind.“

“what’s up? you woke me up, dumbass.” but your irritation was mostly for show, your tone softening.

chris and you had always been like this—banter that felt like a second language, jokes that only the two of you got. you’d been friends for years, meeting in high school when he’d transferred to your school halfway through junior year. he was scruffy, cocky, and way too confident for his own good. but beneath that? he was sweet in ways he didn’t let many people see.

you leaned back against the headboard, adjusting to the idea that you weren’t getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“just..missed your voice, i think.” he said it so simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

your stomach did that annoying little flip at his words, and you cursed it silently. there’d always been something unspoken between you two. maybe it was the way he sometimes looked at you like you were the only person in the room. or the way his hand would linger on your back when you hugged goodbye. but you’d both avoided it, burying it under layers of sarcasm and jokes.

“you’re so full of shit,” you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “nah, swear to god,” he said, voice still soft but with a hint of that teasing edge he always had. “can i-can i come over?”

“chris, it’s the middle of the night—”

“i know, i know. but i just... i really wanna see you. please.”

something in his voice made your chest ache a little. “fine. but if you wake my neighbors, i’m kicking your ass.”

“promise. be there in ten.”

ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at your door. you opened it to find him standing there, hoodie pulled over his head. his hair was a mess, and his eyes were glassy, but he grinned when he saw you.

“you look cute,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“shut up,” you said, shutting the door behind him. you were just in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, and you felt a little self-conscious under his gaze.

he flopped onto your couch, stretching out like he owned the place you grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and tossed it at him. “drink that. you look like shit,” you said, sitting down next to him. he smelled faintly like weed and the cheap cologne he always wore, and it made your chest ache a little in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“thanks, babe. love the support.” but he opened the bottle and took a long sip, sighing afterward.

“so, what’s this all about?” you asked, pulling your legs up beneath you.

he rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “dunno. just..couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

you laughed, trying to brush it off. “yeah, right. you’re high as shit. you probably couldn’t stop thinking about pizza, too.”

“nah, i’m serious.” his voice was quieter now, and when you looked at him, his eyes were on you, steady and unflinching. “i mean it. you’re all i’ve been thinkin’ about lately, and it’s been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane.”

your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break through your chest. “you’re just saying this because you’re high,” you said weakly, not meeting his eyes.

“bullshit,” he shot back, his voice sharper now. “this isn’t the weed talkin’, alright? this is me. i’ve been feelin’ this way for ages, but i didn’t wanna fuck shit up between us. but, god, it’s killin’ me,” he paused for a moment. “but tonight i was sittin’ at home, high as fuck, and i just couldn’t stop thinking about you. like, your stupid laugh, and the way you always steal my fries even when you say you’re not hungry, and how you—fuck, this is so embarrassing.”

you stared at him, your mouth slightly open but no words coming out.

he looked up at you, his eyes serious now. “i think i’m in love with you. no, fuck that, i know i’m in love with you. and i don’t know what to do about it, ‘cause i don’t wanna lose you, but i also can’t keep pretendin’ i don’t feel this way.”

you felt like the air had been knocked out of you. you sat there, stunned, your brain scrambling to process what he’d just said.

“say something,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

you swallowed hard, your mind spinning, and he laughed bitterly. “shit, i knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “forget i said anything, alright? just—fuck. i’m sorry.”

he started to get up, but you grabbed his wrist before you even realized what you were doing. “wait.”

he froze, looking down at you, and you swallowed hard. “you’re not..wrong,” you admitted quietly.

his eyebrows pulled together. “what do you mean?”

you hesitated, but only because you were scared. scared of what this could mean, of how things might change. but then you thought about all the little moments over the years—his hand brushing against yours, the way his smile could light up your worst days, the way he always knew exactly how to make you laugh.

“i mean—i think about you, too,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “but i didn’t wanna ruin anything, either.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. then, slowly, he sat back down. “yeah?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“yeah,” you said, meeting his eyes.

his eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

then he did move, leaning in just a little, his gaze flicking to your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and a little raspy. your breath caught, but you nodded. “yeah.”

and then his lips were on yours, soft and warm and a little hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to want this as much as he did. but when you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, he deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cup your face like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

it wasn’t perfect—his nose bumped yours, and you could taste the faint tang of weed on his lips—but it didn’t matter. it was warm and messy and real, and it made your heart feel like it was about to burst.

when he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he was smiling—this soft, almost disbelieving smile that made your chest ache in the best way.

“fuck,” he whispered. “that was..better than i imagined.” you laughed softly, your cheeks burning. “you’ve imagined this?”

“yeah,” he admitted, his smile turning sheepish. “a lot, actually.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “you’re such an idiot.”

“your idiot,” he said, grinning.

you groaned, shoving him lightly, but he just laughed, pulling you into his arms. and for the first time, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

[twistedtwintaker]

50% opacity

Warning: strong language.

Story: you've just moved into a new home, only to discover the ghost of a witch it's hunting the house.

Light angst and fluff. Use of y/n

Y/N should have known the day would be a disaster when the movers dropped her coffee table on the front porch. The “haunted” house her cousin pawned off on her had looked normal enough—just a little dusty, maybe leaning a bit to the left.

It started small: a whisper in the hall when she knew no one else was there. Lights flickering ominously, doors creaking open on their own. Y/N had seen enough horror movies to know what was coming, but what she wasn’t prepared for was the ghost herself.

“Nice aim,” a smooth, sarcastic voice commented after Y/N threw a shoe at the flickering lightbulb.

Y/N spun around, heart pounding, to see a woman leaning against the wall. She was tall, with wild curls and a smirk that radiated smugness. Her clothes looked old-fashioned, but her sharp wit was unmistakably modern.

“What the fuck?” Y/N blurted, scrambling for her broom. “Who the hell are you?”

“The ghost, obviously,” the woman replied, completely unbothered. “Agatha Harkness. And you?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “The living person who owns this house.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Owns? Cute. I’d say you’re more of a temporary guest.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Y/N jabbed the broom in Agatha’s direction. “If you’re gonna haunt me, at least do something useful, like pay rent or clean up around here.”

Agatha chuckled. “Pay rent? Sweetheart, I’ve been dead for centuries. You can’t charge me for haunting rights.”

Y/N groaned. She’d barely been here a day, and she was already done with this place.

Over the next few weeks, Agatha made it her mission to be the most annoying housemate imaginable. She moved furniture when Y/N wasn’t looking, “accidentally” turned off the hot water in the middle of showers, and kept leaving cryptic messages on the bathroom mirror.

“Seriously?” Y/N growled one morning, scrubbing at the words “Nice bedhead” written in condensation.

From the hallway, Agatha peeked in, grinning. “What? I’m just being friendly.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Agatha said, smirking as she floated past.

“You know, you could try dusting once in a while,” Agatha quipped one morning as Y/N struggled to clean the fireplace.

“You could try leaving once in a while,” Y/N shot back.

Agatha smirked, floating lazily in mid-air. “I can’t. This house is mine, remember? You’re the intruder here.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Y/N threw her cleaning rag on the floor. “If you’re so attached to this place, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you died.”

Agatha gave an exaggerated gasp. “Ouch. So rude. No wonder you’re single.”

Y/N flipped her off without even looking.

slowly painfully, even Y/N started to warm up to Agatha. The ghost, as annoying as she was, had her moments. Like when Y/N couldn’t figure out how to fix a broken chair, and Agatha “accidentally” revealed she knew woodworking because she “used to build her own furniture back in the day.” Or the time Y/N had a terrible day at work, and Agatha distracted her with a dramatic re-enactment of how she scared off the last potential buyers who came to see the house.

“You’re insane,” Y/N said, laughing despite herself.

“And yet, you’re still here,” Agatha replied, her smirk softening into something warmer.

Months passed, and their banter became less biting, more playful. Y/N found herself talking to Agatha late into the night, sharing things she hadn’t told anyone else—dreams she’d given up on, relationships that had ended badly, fears she didn’t even like admitting to herself.

And Agatha listened. For all her sarcasm and sass, she had a knack for cutting through Y/N’s bullshit.

One night, as Y/N sat on the couch scrolling through her laptop, she felt Agatha hovering behind her.

“Do you mind?” Y/N asked, not looking up. “You’re creeping me out.”

“I’m a ghost. It’s literally my job,” Agatha said, leaning over her shoulder. “What’s that you’re working on?”

“None of your business,” Y/N muttered, trying to ignore the way her heart jumped whenever Agatha got too close.

“Suit yourself.” Agatha floated away but stayed in the room, watching Y/N with an expression Y/N couldn’t quite read.

It wasn’t until one particularly quiet evening that Y/N finally said what had been on her mind for weeks.

“Do you ever wish you could leave this house?”

Agatha, who was lounging in the air with one leg crossed over the other, looked startled. “Why would I? This place is my home.”

“Yeah, but… you’re stuck here. Don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

Agatha hesitated. For once, her smirk was gone, replaced by a flicker of something vulnerable. “Maybe. But I don’t get that choice, do I?”

Y/N frowned, guilt twisting in her chest. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant.” Agatha sighed, running a hand through her curls. “But the thing is… this house isn’t so bad. Not anymore.”

Y/N felt her face heat up. “Is that your way of saying you like me?”

Agatha’s smirk returned. “Oh, sweetheart, I never said that. But if the shoe fits…”

“You’re impossible,” Y/N muttered, but she couldn’t help smiling.

They didn’t have all the answers. How could they? One of them was dead, and the other was barely holding her life together. But as Y/N sat beside Agatha on the couch, listening to the ghost ramble about her favorite books from the 1800s, she realized she didn’t care.

They’d figure it out. Together.

[olderthannetfic]

Of course people are being defensive, Spotify Anon. You rolled into the Fandom Old corner of Tumblr to tell us to examine our biases based on a streaming platform that only half of us even use at all.

Someome compared it to the f/f wank and they're right. If you accuse people of bullshit based on completely ufounded speculation, half of them will block you and the other half will explain to you why you're wrong. And we can't block other people's anons, so you're just going to have to endure a barrage of "this is bullshit and here's why". You asked for this, this is us examining the racial bias in our spotify wrapped and going "huh, it can't show bias if it doesn't exist" or "how does the fact that I listen to weird non-American music you've never heard of say anything about my feelings about the personhood and rights of American popstars I've never heard of?"

--

Spotify wrapped season is really popular broadly (though not so much around here) to the point that I find it very annoying since you apparently have to download the app to see wrapped??? I hate this season every year.

I use spotify via a browser, grudgingly, because some friends' fun guess-the-song stuff is on there. I had to use it at the fertility clinic because that's what they use to play music while injecting you with eggs. (I picked Mono if anyone is curious, but given how insanely painful being inflated with saline was, I should probably have picked D-2. I just thought it wasn't available because Spotify used to NOT FUCKING HAVE most of BTS' side projects because Spotify sucks donkey balls. Have I mentioned lately how much I resent the ubiquity of this piece of garbage? Have I?)

The thing that gets me that I hadn't quite worked out until just now is that 100 songs is the precise right amount to feel huge and significant without actually being so. Top 100 albums or artists is still an illusion of knowing what someone listens to. (Spotify has been improving, but they still routinely don't have the stuff I want.) But at least there, by the time you get to my 100th most listened to artist for a year, you might have some kind of picture of what I listen to.

Now, if you only listen to prog rock on vinyl, maybe your top 100 songs represent about 50 albums. >:D But let's say you're listening to some modern albums with bonus tracks and shit on Spotify. Your top 100 might be March When I Broke Up And Listened To The Same Five Albums Day And Night. No matter how diverse and interesting the rest of your musical diet, your bland-ass breakup playlist is now ninety out of one hundred songs on your Spotify Wrapped for this year.

I think it's that previously not totally conscious thought about how many 100 songs really is that was annoying me until just now.

Sure, it's just one scenario, but I think this sense of what 100 songs means is what's really annoying me about how people go on about Wrapped. Not just here and about racism: All the mainstream blathering about Wrapped annoys the shit out of me too every damn year.

It's a little like kudos. The top 200-500 most kudosed things in a big fandom may well show some pattern I find interesting. The top 100 most kudosed things show that people like that daily updating omegaverse crossover ship epic with Tony Stark.

Okay, okay, with kudos, you could probably exclude the top 10-30 depending on fandom size, but you know what I mean. Your last 100 fics read mean little, IMO. Your last 100 fandoms read, which is likely to be significantly more than 100 fics, is interesting to me.

It's my usual Numbers Are Deceptive complaint about how people love stats but do not contextualize things well.

[dellalalakang]

triple n: RIP kang della

masterlist | main masterlist

— lhs, pjs, sjy, psh —

well.......

contains: fivesome. really rough (choking, slapping, etc.), DELLA HAS AN IUD!!, della getting absolutely manhandled, her hands gets restrained for a bit, BUT THEN THERE IS A BIT OF DOM!DELLA ACTION, double penetration (as in anal), tiiiiiny bit of breeding kink, kitten as a nickname kink, daddy kink (sorry guys lol ik i said i wouldn't but i can't help it), i also said that they're never goofy during sex but we have the 02z in one session y'all— it's bound to get a little silly, LONGEST FIC I'VE WRITTEN (7.3k WORDS), longest + most detailed + most insane smut i've ever written omg i dont think i will EVER top this

happy belated anniversary my darlings 🤍 happy two years to della and her men (and alice) ✨

AND HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO ENHA'S (5/8) LOSS IN NNN! this chapter takes place on midnight 2022/11/11 (so i kinda thought that was today bcs dumbo self messed up the dates so i'm one day late but it's all good)

hi guys! i missed you! i will try to reply to asks soon! i'm so sorry for disappearing again, life has been rough and moving too fast 😭 DID NOT PROOFREAD BECAUSE I AM EMBARRASSED

Kang Della is going to die tonight.

While not literally, she was definitely going to be reborn as a new woman.

"Lala, stop praying. You're not actually gonna die," Sunoo said, more interested in his phone than his overreacting girlfriend. "You're gonna have so much fun, and we have the day off tomorrow. It'll be great."

"Sunoo shut up and help me pray," Della herself was already dressed, cleaned up and ready to head out.

But certainly not ready to meet the hyuppas.

"Why are we even praying when you're going to be doing something so sinful?"

There were three possible outcomes from tonight; One, the hyuppas being so annoyed that they prefer to ignore her for a bit. Though that is just her anxiety talking.

Two, they would take turns with her for four days straight. Which also means that she would have a limp and some back pain for a week or so.

Or three, they would all have their way with her, at the same time.

And the last option seems to be the most likely.

❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆

"Oh, hi! Oppa! Really funny seeing you here but Sunghoon-oppa asked for beer, so here—" Jake immediately pulled Della into his room before she could escape from what was coming.

"You're in massive trouble, young lady," the girl would've laughed if the situation wasn't as serious. Who actually says that sentence in real life? Sim Jaeyun, apparently.

"Oh, wow! All the hyuppas are here!" Della laughed nervously. "Seems like you guys are preparing to have a celebration together! Wouldn't want boring 'ole Della making things all boring!" 

The stern look on all four men made Della withdraw into herself. She avoided eye contact by playing with her nails, mentally preparing herself for the scolding.

"Kang Della, sit down," Heeseung ordered, gesturing the couch with his eyebrows.

"Ah.. I really need to my room though, Yunji-unnie's waiting for me," Della hopes that she could somehow avoid the earful, though it is looking very improbable. "So I'm just here to hand over the beer and—" she gasped when Jay slowly took her hands and held them behind her back like a criminal.

"Do you know how hard it was to wait for you?" he said in a low tone. "The only reason why we did this stupid challenge was because of you."

Jay's deep voice caused Della's skin to erupt in goosebumps. She bit her lip as her heart started pumping faster. She tried to look into his eyes but quickly adverted her gaze when she saw how handsome he looked with his expression. She could feel herself getting wet again.

"The fucking audacity you had to lose to someone who wasn't even a part of this bullshit of a challenge," Sunghoon walked over and held her face with both hands. He noticed a familiar scent within the proximity. "You've been fucking drinking too. You did a lot with Sunoo, huh?" 

She had forgotten about the alcohol in her system, now understanding why her brain seems so hazy. She barely drank anything, but she is a major lightweight. The drink Sunoo gave her, mixed with the lack of sexual attention (and undeniably, Sunoo's seduction) must be why she lost the game so easily.

"I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't plan it or anything. Honest!" she replied with puppy eyes. While the look stirred something inside Sunghoon, it certainly wasn't sympathy. 

"Even if you didn't plan it, you still did it, didn't you?" he asked in an eerily calm voice. "You can't really take it back now, can you?" he brushed her bangs back but kept his hold firm. "Even if it was silly little foreplay."

Everything Sunghoon did just made her core uncomfortably wet. She was embarrassed to clutch her legs tighter but her mind was just occupied with how stunning he looked and how hot his words were.

"No," Della whined, shamelessly staring at his lips. "I'm sorry, oppas."

"Do you know what's gonna happen now?" Sunghoon asked, staring at her lips as well.

"Am I getting punished?" Della bit her lip at the thought.

"You're gonna deal with us four, yeah? We've been stupidly waiting for over a week," Sunghoon caressed her cheeks before forcefully making her look at the two boys on the bed. "Look at them. We all deserve to be relieved from this challenge, hm?" he whispered in her ear.

"Nghh," Della whined at the sight of Jake and Heeseung. They were sitting on the joint bed with a can of beer in their hands. They were intently staring at the three of them, anticipating their next moves and patiently waiting for their turn. They knew that hard-dom Sunghoon would be the best at disciplining Della in bed, while romantic Jay would really show her just how serious they are.

"Do you think you can do that?" Sunghoon whispered again, causing Della to gulp and nod her head. "Use your words."

"I'm gonna deal with all four of you," she said timidly. She has never handled more than two people before, and now she's jumping straight to four.

But she is excited. Extremely excited.

"Good girl," Jay kept his hold with one hand, using the other to stroke her hair. "Your safe word today is red and yellow, okay? Regardless of Korean or English."

"Okay, oppa," Della closed her eyes at the gentle kiss Jay left on her hair. Suddenly all the nerves left and she's just left with pure anticipation.

"Good girl," although the words were identical to Jay's, Sunghoon's praise sounded rougher, more possessive. "Now come here."

Sunghoon connected his lips to hers hungrily while his hands moved to grope her bare breasts under her pyjama top. 

Jay let out a small smirk, his hands busily tying her wrists with the neck tie he prepared. His recently free hands then moved to unbutton her top, helping Sunghoon get easier access.

"You're not wearing a fucking bra. Sunoo must've enjoyed these babies, huh?" Jay said against her neck as his hands replaced Sunghoon's. The latter's opted to move down and roam his hands on Della's hourglass figure.

"Did he? Answer Jay," Sunghoon mumbled on her lips before shifting his kisses to her neck.

"No, he didn't," Della whimpered at the stimulation. Her legs were now almost crossed at how eager she is for some sort of sexual activity.

"Aish, that kid," Jay cursed, pulling away from Della to grab himself a beer. "Won 3N but didn't even fully enjoy it," he then pat Heeseung's shoulder and sat down beside Jake. "Tag. You're it."

Heeseung smirked, taking a big swig of his drink before making his way to Dehoon. With some liquid courage, he knew that they would all have a long, wild night ahead of them. They all definitely need a few cans because they desperately need this.

"You could've tagged me, y'know?" Jake pointed at his roommate.

"Shut up," Jay sipped his drink. "Just go over and join them– who's stopping you?"

"Nah, I'm actually enjoying the view," the younger laid back and rested his upper body weight on his forearm. The two watched as Sunghoon pulled away as soon as he noticed Heeseung.

"I told you to sit down, didn't I?" Heeseung practically mumbled, using his free hand to push her down onto the couch. "Why didn't you listen to me but obeyed Sunghoon and Jongseong?"

Della's mouth watered at the angle. If her instincts were correct, she was gonna suck someone off, most probably Heeseung. 

And she absolutely loves giving head.

Heeseung especially tends to let out these adorable sounds that are music to her ears. She knows that he will try to hold them back since they're not alone, but she is determined to have this gorgeous man let loose of his (almost) equally gorgeous noises.

"I'm sorry, oppa," the lower angle made Della's puppy eyes look even more cute. "I was just nervous."

"You know what those eyes do to me," Heeseung ran a thumb over her lip. "Should we forgive her, Sunghoon?" he sucked in a breath when she took his thumb into her mouth to suck gently.

"We'll see about that," a loud zipper sound filled the room as Sunghoon aggressively undid his pants. "Open up," and his cock was in front of Della's face in no time.

She did not need to be told twice. Her eyes instantly closed as her tongue swirled around the tip. She played around with it for a few seconds before pushing it all the way to the back of her throat.

"Fuckkk, I missed this," Sunghoon threw his head back. "So fucking good," he bit his lip harshly.

Upon the sight, Heeseung hurriedly lowered his sweatpants with one hand, but struggled to get his hard-on out from the tightness of his boxers. He eventually succeeded once Sunghoon helped by taking the beer out of his hands.

"Pay attention to hyung too," Sunghoon said and took a large gulp of the liquid. 

Della wasted no time in having Heeseung inside her mouth with her tongue swirling around the girth. She didn't care as her hair got everywhere.

"Thereee you go," Heeseung grunted, pushing the hair behind her shoulders and brushed her bangs back . "Ah fuck!" he bit his lip to try and contain his sounds.

"Ya– I meant divide your attention, not completely move on to him," Della gasped as Sunghoon pulled her hair so she could come back to him. "Back and forth, baby, you can do it."

It is definitely difficult. Della has never given head with her hands tied before, let alone with two dicks.

But if the boys know anything about their baby, they'll know that she is not a quitter; she will persist until she's absolutely certain she can't.

She bobbed her head two times on Sunghoon before switching back to Heeseung to repeat her movements, and doing the same to Sunghoon again. The perspective was so hot that Sunghoon's breath turned heavy and Heeseung's moans were audible again.

Jay and Jake, on the other hand, were getting a bit impatient because they could barely see anything. Sunghoon could almost sense it, and as he turned his head to look at his two best friends, he found Jake fiddling with his can while Jay tapped his hand in wait.

"Hyung, let's move to the bed," Sunghoon breathed out, pulling Della away from him and up from the sofa. Della whined at the loss but let herself be moved around like a doll. "Be fucking patient. You were willing to wait for a month, you can definitely handle a few seconds," Sunghoon slapped her lightly.

DellaTheMasochist only gave him an annoyed look with a bratty pout, making him slap her once more. 

"Oh you're gonna be a little brat, huh? I'll deal with you fucking later," he then carefully pushed her to Jay's arms, causing Della to smile in adoration. No matter how rough sex is with Sunghoon, he's still a huge softy.

"Well hello there," Jay caught her with one hand. "Were you being a bit bratty?" he asked while fixing her hair gently.

"No, never," Della shook her head innocently. Sunghoon grinned as he opened himself a can, sitting on the bed beside Heeseung. 

Her absolute brattiness only comes out to Sunghoon. She's an angel with Jay, putty with Jake, and a dominant with Heeseung.

"Of course not, you're our princess," Jay breathed down her neck and captured a nipple in his mouth. He blindly handed Jake his drink so he could use both hands to hug her waist. He spent a few minutes slowly enjoying her boobs, leaving hickeys all around the area. 

The three knew that Jay liked his intimacy, so they didn't interrupt.

He eventually laid her between himself and Jake, opting to just stroke her hair for now. Della was settling into a more comfortable position when Jay noticed that Jake's hands were now free from the cans he was holding. 

He gestured for the Aussie to begin, eliciting a grin from Jake before hovering above Della.

"Hi, baby," Jake whispered. His attractive face and accent left a small blush to her cheeks. "I missed you," he connected their lips together in a steamy kiss. 

The thing with Dake is that they don't always have a clear dominant in the bedroom. Most times it's Jake while others it's Della. What's crystal is that they are really passionate together. Practically straight out of an erotic movie.

"I'm still annoyed about Triple N but I miss you too much to fucking care right now," he ran his hands down from her sides, eventually tugging her shorts and panties down as far as he could. "Just wanna devour you."

He then proceeded to make his way down until he was off the bed with his face in between her legs. He completely got rid of her lower garments and took a deep breath, biting his lip before diving into her heat. One of his favourite things to do with her, and something that she desperately needed.

"Ah fuck!" Della threw her head back, pressing her thighs against his head. "Ahhh Jakey!" she whined. 

"Sensitive babyy," Jay cooed and held her face with his hand. "You almost gave this up for a month, you know?" he left small kisses all over her face.

"November's my birthday month, she ain't gonna give this up for the whole thirty," Jake pulled back slightly to comment. With his accent and slight mumbling, Jay could barely understand what he was saying. Della, however, understood perfectly.

"I told you that I would give you an exception, right?" Della's answer just connected the dots for Jay. Big mistake.

"You promised him an exception?" Jay halted his caresses to seriously ask. But Jake had resumed his mission, and Della is far too distracted to answer. "Fucking answer me– you gave him an exception?" he tightened his grip on her face.

"Y-yeah, for his birthday," Jay let out a scoff at her answer and humourlessly chuckled.

"I was gonna go easy on you and let these guys do their own thing," his voice turned rough, something he didn't think he would do tonight. "But you were gonna give Jake an exemption and that– pay attention," he slapped her lightly when she moaned to his face. 

"Sorry, oppa," Della whined, finding it difficult to concentrate when Jake's mouth was pleasuring her so well.

"It pisses me off," Jay whispered roughly. "Instead of just calling the challenge off, you were gonna make the three of us wait 'til the end," he smirked at how hard she was struggling to contain her sounds of pleasure. He let go of her roughly to sit up."Sorry man, I gotta take it from here," he pat Jake's shoulder. 

"Mmkay," Della moaned loudly when Jake gave out one last suck to her clit. "I call dibs on cleaning her off though," he smiled widely while licking his wet lips.

"Deal," Jay immediately flipped Della over onto her stomach. "Tsk tsk tsk, Lala..." he swiftly took his shorts and boxers off in one go. "Stay down," he firmly instructed as he removed her restrains.

The three boys couldn't stop the grin when they watched Jay unleash his beast. The Jay they've seen before was nowhere near as aggressive.

"Have fun, bro," Sunghoon hollered. "Have fun, princess," he toasted his beer at Della when she made eye contact.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah?" Jay whispered in her ear. He noticed the goosebumps that rose on her back as he was lifting her hips and parting her legs. "Hold on tight," he warned, handing her a pillow.

He bit the bottom of his sleeveless shirt just so he could get a clearer look of his shaft rubbing against her folds. 

"Aghh," both Della and Jay groaned when his full length entered her. "Fuckk!" after ten days, he knew he had to let Della adjust a little. Yet he also knew that she didn't need long based on how wet she is and how Sunoo had prepped her.

So not long after, he pulled back and thrusted into her. Hard.

"Ngghhh!" Della squeezed her eyes shut while tightly hugging the pillow. "Oppaaa!" she moaned loudly.

"God! I fucking missed this!" Jay grumbled out. The cloth was no longer in his mouth and he had his head thrown back. "Fuck!"

He kept his hands on her hips as he pounded into her. Slow, but powerful thrusts.

"Ahhh! Oppaaaa!" Della continued to moan loudly. "Oh my God!" she realised how noisy she was being, so she began to muffle her sounds into the pillow.

"Oh no you don't," Jay grunted. Instead of taking the pillow away from her, he decided to flip her onto her back. Essentially switching to the missionary position. "Oh hi there, sweetie," he smirked at her, leaning down to place a kiss on her lips. "Hold on," he forcefully placed her hands on his shoulders before resuming his thrusts.

"Shit!" Della gasped, struggling to maintain eye contact with Jay as he continued to fuck her in the same manner. "Jay-oppaaa!" she practically screamed. Her nails starting holding on for dear life, scratching the skin of his biceps and her mouth was stuck open with nonstop moans.

The three other boys were turned on as hell.

Jake kept adjusting the bulge in his pants while Sunghoon and Heeseung had to constantly shift in their seats.

Waiting was especially hard for Heeseung as he barely got to touch Della in ten days. So he downed two cans and working on his third in no time, making him slightly tipsy and extremely impatient. 

And the sight of her mouth opening just reminded him of something.

"That's it," he crawled across to Jella's side of the bed. "Sunghoon said we were moving to the bed, so you're not done sucking me off," he sat on his knees beside Della's. "Sorry, Jongseong-ah," he breathed out and helped guide Della's mouth to his length.

"By all means, hyung," Jay pulled away and halted his movement to let Della find a comfortable position. "You better do your best. We know you can do it, baby," he whispered to Della, taking off his shirt as he waited.

"Shittt!" Heeseung moaned practically straight after Della's mouth wrapped around him. "There you go, baby– just like that," he assisted by thrusting so that all she had to do was just suck around him and pump what she can't.

"I'll start moving again," Jay began thrusting as soon as he alerted Heela. "Aghh," he grunted, furrowing his eyebrows together. The view of Della sucking someone off in front of him just made him want to fuck her even harder.

He needs to hear her moans even if they were muffled.

"Ahh! Lala!" Heeseung whined when Della kept moaning around him. "Just like that! Sooo good! Nghh!"

Since his mind was foggy from the alcohol, he didn't even bother to hold back on his moans. Even when they start to get a little too subby.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon and Jake wanted to join in so badly, but fear that they would overwhelm their baby. Though they can't just sit there and do nothing.

So they decided to devise a plan for when their turn comes.

"Have you... ever done anal?" Sunghoon awkwardly asked Jake after covering his dick with a pillow. "Like do it from the butt?"

"Me or Della?" Jake's question made the ice prince slap his arm.

"Della, of course," Sunghoon scolded.

"Ack! No– I just gotta make sure I understood what you meant," Jake explained. "No, we haven't."

"I have and I brought condoms and lube," Sunghoon pointed at his luggage. "So here's the thing... Della has been quite curious to try like.. two people.. like.." Sunghoon tried to find the words to explain it in a way that Jake would understand, knowing that the guy mostly knows English sexual terms.

"Like at the same time? Double?" Jake asked while bringing his hands up for gesture.

"Uh, double," Sunghoon nodded, instantly feeling awkward again. "Do you... wanna try it with me? It's her first time and maybe you can do the... back because you've never tried it before."

Jake was quick to make up his mind, all thanks to the two beers he had downed.

"Let's do it," he raised his hand to dap Sunghoon up. "Jellahoon, am I right?"

"Of course," Sunghoon grinned.

"Fuck! I can't cum already!" Heeseung grit his teeth and slowed down his hips. "Lalaaa," he whined.

It was then when Della finally pulled away from the blowjob. She looked into his eyes whilst her hand kept pumping his shaft.

"Heeseung, babyy. What did I tell you about holding back?" she forced herself to restrain her moans just so she could remind him who's in charge.

Fortunately, Jay, who was finding the exchange amusing (also wanting Della all to himself during his orgasm), had slowed down his thrusts to help her focus.

"To never do that because only bad boys hold back," Heeseung's rational thoughts went straight out the window. He was fully going to show his dongsaengs that Lee Heeseung is a sub. A major one. "But I'm not even inside you yet!"

"Come here, baby," Della got up from her position. "I'll be back," she placed a quick kiss on Jay's lips. 

"Go ahead," Jay was so intrigued at his hyung and girlfriend's new side that he didn't care about his delayed orgasm— as long as he gets it straight after Heeseung reaches his.

"Poor babyy," Della cooed at Heeseung, brushing his hair back. "Why don't you sit comfortably and let Lala do the work?"

The 02z watched in amazement as they discover how their hyung is actually like in bed. They watched him obey Della's instructions like clockwork, as if he's done this a million times.

He rested his back against the pillows with his legs ajar. His large bambi eyes were stuck on Della the whole time, looking absolutely lovestruck.

"Take off your shirt," Della pointed lazily, getting on top of his lap. "You're a good boy, right?" she connected their foreheads together and aligned him to her entrance. 

All Heeseung could do was nod enthusiastically.

"Then don't hold back," Della whispered before sliding down on his length. 

"Ahh!" both Heeseung and Della let out high-pitched moans. As Della bounced up and down, Heeseung's hands automatically went to wrap around her waist.

"Sh-shit!" Heeseung hugged her tighter while squeezing his eyes shut. Because he was already close earlier, it took no time for him to reach that point again. "Lalaaa!"

"Feel so good, Heeseung– ahhh!" when it comes to Heeseung, Della (most of the time) tries to compose herself. She's taking care of him after all.

"Shit– is that what it looks like when Della rides you?" Sunghoon asked under his breath. "That's fucking hot."

His hand then tried to secretly stimulate himself, making sure that neither Jake or Jay could notice. Jay, on the other hand, was openly pumping himself, not caring that his best friends could be looking.

"Damn, you're pretty big, bro," Jake suddenly blurted out at Jay. "Nice one."

"Thanks, I guess," Jay chuckled and kept moving his hand, not feeling awkward in the slightest.

"Why were you looking at his dick?" Sunghoon snickered, but that brought Jake's attention to him and that's when the latter noticed his sneaky hand.

"Why are you secretly jacking off? Just do it like Jay, no balls!" Jake slapped his calf. "We're literally in the middle of a fivesun—"

"Fivesome," Jay corrected him.

"Fivesome!"

"Ew, no! I feel so exposed! Like I'll be jerking off in front of you!" Sunghoon completely removed his hand from his dick. "And it's easy for you to say! You're still fully clothed!"

"It's not like we've never seen you naked bef–"

"02z, if you're not gonna suck each other off then shut the fuck up," Della interrupted their bickering while making eye contact. "Your hyung's trying to cum in peace."

"Yes ma'am," "Sorry," "Sorry," they all apologised quietly, hoping that no one notices their erection hardening even more. They hate admitting their thirst for Della's dominance. 

Or to be accurate; They love her dominance, yet hate admitting their desire to be like Heeseung.

But it's not like the 02z have never been docile to DommeDella. 

"Sunghoon, don't be fucking weird or I'll repeat last month's occurrences," Della's threat immediately made Sunghoon's skin erupt in goosebumps. He just hopes that she won't elaborate and reveal to his friends what exactly happened.

Thankfully, she didn't.

"Are you okay, baby?" Della went back and cooed to Heeseung, keeping her pace steady as she cradled his head.

"I'm gonna cuuuum," he sobbed. "Fuck! Lalaaa!"

"There you go. Don't hold back, Heeseung baby," Della mustered up all the energy she had to quicken her pace.

"Ahhhh! Lalaaa!" Heeseung used his tight hold to assist her bounces before ultimately letting out a loud gasp as he released spurts and spurts of warm cum. "Oh my God, babyy," he sighed and relaxed his shoulders.

"Good boyy," Della halted her thrusts, caressing his hair lovingly. "Filling me up soo good," she placed tiny kisses on his head. "I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Lala," Heeseung breathed out. "Thank you," he pulled himself away to connect their lips.

They were stuck in a slow make-out session for a while before Jay grew impatient and pulled Della away from the older. 

"You didn't forget about me, did you?" Jay grumbled in her ear. "I gave you time to fuck hyung but now you forgot about us?" he lifted her up like she weighed nothing and placed her front facing down.

"You're being rude, Jay. Your hyung needed to—" Della cut herself off with a gasp when Jay landed a firm spank on her ass.

"You're not in control no more," he said in a low voice, lifting her waist up slightly. "Where are your manners?"

"I'm sorry, oppa," Della whimpered when he spread her pussy lips. She could feel Heeseung's cum slowly pouring out of her. As always, he came a lot.

"Shitt– hyung," Jay called for Heeseung to see. The latter had pretty much sobered up from earlier and is back to his usual self.

And at least for now, he still had not realised what he had done in front of his dongsaengs. 

"Keep it in, baby," Heeseung took two of his fingers and pushed the cum back inside her, causing Della to gasp. "Add onto it, Jongseong," he patted Jay's bare shoulder with his clean hand before heading towards the bathroom.

"My pleasure," Jay whispered. He wrapped his arms around Della's body and instantly pushed himself inside her once again. "Fuckkk, Della."

"Yess! Oppaa!" Della squeezed her eyes shut, letting out babbles of words that barely made any sense. She could feel Heeseung's cum slowly absorbing inside her as Jay fucked it deeper. The sounds of the moisture only turning on everyone in the room more.

"Fuck! You're gonna cum soon, aren't ya?" Jay's hard-but-slow pace tried to quicken when he felt Della tightening around him. "Just a little more, baby– Oppa's almost there, wait for me," he left kisses on the side of her face as he tried to concentrate on cumming together with his girl.

Fortunately for him, Della knows exactly what to do in this situation.

"Fill me up good, oppa. Make me feel so full," Jay had never verbally admitted it to her, but she knows that he has a breeding kink. "Stuff me full of—"

"FUUUUCK, I'm cumming!" Jay's left hand frantically went to search for Della's. "C'mere baby," while his right hand went to bring her face to his. 

They connected their lips together, essentially muffling their moans (and screams). Della used her free hand to hold onto his head, making the scene look even more sweet.

"I love you, Della," Jay mumbled against her lips.

"I love you, Jay," Della whined at the feeling of her own orgasm mixed with Jay's (and Heeseung's). "So, so much."

"So, so much," Jay left a final kiss on her forehead before getting off of her back. His eyes immediately went to her cum-filled entrance. "Good girl, keep it in," he grunted, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of barely any cum leaking out. 

He chuckled when Della wiggled her ass for fun. "How cute," he slapped her ass and stood up. "Agh fuck, you really milked me dry."

"Come on, it hasn't been THAT long, guys," Della rolled her eyes. "We didn't even last the whole month."

Just as she finished talking, a harsher slap was placed on her ass.

"You fuck four men on a daily basis– you still think you could've handled it?" Sunghoon asked, flipping Della onto her back. "Do I also need to remind that you were the one who gave in first? YOU?" he grabbed onto her leg to pull her closer to the edge of the bed and closer to him. "Don't make me teach you a lesson."

"Go easy on her, Sunghoon-ah. She's about to receive a handful with you and Jaeyun," Heeseung reminded. He grabbed Jay's and his cans of beer before joining Jay on the bed. The two were now dressed in their boxers.

"Yeah, just shut up and let's do our shit," Jake impatiently took off his pants but kept his shirt on, only removing his zip-up. "You've done anal, baby?" Della nodded her head in enthusiasm. "Yeah? And you like it?"

"Mhmm! Are we doing what I think we're doing?" Jake chuckled at her excitement. 

"You're adorable. Isn't it gonna hurt, baby?" the tips of Jake's fingers began grazing Della's thigh.

"I wanna be closer to my men," Della gave out a seductive look to both Jake and Sunghoon, making sure to use Korean so Sunghoon would understand.

"How cute," Sunghoon mumbled. "Don't forget your safe words," he ran a hand through Della's hair before laying down on the bed, legs still seated on the edge.

"Is she getting on top of you or me?" Jake asked his partner. "Isn't it more comfortable with you on top?"

"I mean... It's easier for me to thrust but it's more comfortable for her to hug me, no?" Sunghoon explained. "Won't it be unstable if she lays on her back?"

"No– Della should be on her stomach, on her back is difficult, I think," Heeseung pointed at the three.

"Are you doing double?" Jay's eyes widened when he realised what they were discussing. 

"Uh," Jakehoon replied briefly.

"Then Della should be on her stomach and the one who does the back thrusts from behi– on top," Jay gave his take.

"No– the reason why I say she should be on her back is because she needs to be distracted from the pain and Sunghoon would be able to thrust and properly do that," Jake tried to explain his take. "Otherwise his movements are limite—"

Their discussion was cut off by a loud groan from Della, followed by the girl hovering over Sunghoon chest-to-chest.

"Stop taking so fucking long and just fuck me," she wasted no more time and slipped Sunghoon's cock into her entrance.

"Oh my God!" "Oh fuck!" the two hissed at the sudden feeling. 

"Fucking finally!" Sunghoon threw his head back. "Come here, kitten," he repositioned Della a little so he could move more comfortably. 

Thanks to his long legs, all he needed to do so was to hold her in place.

"So fucking tight," he said with gritted teeth. He was never one to make a lot of noises in bed, but with his buddies around, he's determined to look cool. He was gonna try to contain his facial expressions, which is something he never holds back on.

Yet his plan went straight out the window when Della adorably cuddled into his chest. 

"Oppaaa," she whined.

"Aww, kitten– my princess," he cooed, bringing one of his hands to hug her close. "Does that feel good, kitten?"

Della could only mew louder and nuzzle her head more, making all four boys coo at the sight.

"This seems enough for you, baby. Do you really need more?" Jake went up to her face to tease while his lubed finger equally teased her back entrance.

Della looked into his eyes and said the one name that the two have kept a secret for a long time. 

"Please, daddy?" 

Jake halted for a second, taken aback at the sudden change of mind. He was not one to be shy about his kink, but Della was a bit apprehensive that the members just won't understand.

But weirdly enough, none of the boys reacted, as if they already knew of the fact.

"Sunghoon, stop moving for a second," Jake went back to his position and squeezed more lube onto Della's hole. "Stay relaxed, darling," he warned Della before pushing a finger in.

"Mmm," she closed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"I'm right here, princess," Sunghoon whispered in her ear. "Relax some more," and immediately continued his movements.

"There ya go, good girl," Jake muttered, slowly twisting and pumping his finger. When Della was almost fully relaxed and resumed her previous moaning, Jake gradually added another finger in and followed by another once she adjusted to that as well. "Such a good girl."

"Ahh! I'm gonna cum!" Della announced, pushing her upper body up to catch a glimpse of what Jake's doing. "Fuck!" her eyes rolled back as she turned back to Sunghoon. "Oh my Goodness!" her moans only got louder when she looked at Sunghoon's facial expressions.

As always, his eyebrows were furrowed the whole time while he switched between biting/licking his lips, having his mouth open or gritting his teeth. He had completely forgotten about his initial plan of restraining himself.  

"Go cum, darling," he choked out, giving his last few hard thrusts after Della threw her head back and cried out. 

He almost let out a sigh of relief. If Della waited just a few seconds longer, he too would've been calling to cum and he did not want that just yet.

"Relax a bit, kitten," neither Sunghoon nor Jake pulled out, but they wanted to give Della time to catch her breath.

"What a good girl," Jay noticed Jake ripping open the condom wrapper and immediately sprung to action. "Taking four men so well," he continued to drop praises while caressing her hair.

"If it gets too much, please let us know and Jake can jerk off for the night or something," Heeseung also joined in with a joke.

"Hyung!" Jake whined. He somehow successfully got the condom on with just one hand, and is now lathering his length with the lube.

"Byee daddy" Jay added fuel to the fire by grinning and waving at him. 

"Shut the fuck up, Jay, I complimented you earlier," Jake sent a glare at his friend.

"The tension is insane. Now kiss," Della lifted her head to comment.

No matter how many times she has teased them, they have never expressed or voiced their discomfort, which she knows they aren't afraid to do. In Della's mind, this would imply that the possibility of it happening is not zero.

"Aish Lalaa!" "Eyy!" "Babe!" "Aghh" the four boys complained, with Jake adding an additional smack to her ass.

"You think his dick is big, right? You have my permission and sucking ONE dick does not make you ga—" 

"Okay, that's enough," Sunghoon spoke up and gave her one hard thrust. "Jake and I still need to cum, princess. Stop the yapping."

"I'm sorry, oppa," Della whimpered, bringing her head down to rest on Sunghoon's chest again.

"I'm only letting you off since you've been so good to us, understand? Don't test my patience," he said in a low voice, his hips starting to move in a steady pace once again.

"Understood," Della let out a high-pitched moan at the stimulus but was cut off with her own gasp as Jake pulled his fingers out.

"I'm putting it in," Jake breathed out. He squeezed some more lube on Della's rim before slowly entering. "FUCK!"

"Mmh!" Della had her eyes squeezed shut, trying to adjust to his size (especially with Sunghoon in her other hole).

"Our strong baby," "Such a good girl," Jay and Heeseung showered her in praises, using their hands to caress her arm and back while Sunghoon does so with her hair.

"Fuck– so fucking tight," Jake threw his head back when he was fully inside her. "Hang in there, baby, good job," he smoothed his hand over her ass.

"Yellow?" Heeseung asked about the safe word, just in case.

"Green," she quickly answered. "Can you move slowly, oppa?" her head shifted to make eye contact with Sunghoon.

"Of course, darling," he placed a kiss on her hair before slowly pumping her. "Shit, kitten," he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back.

Because of Jake, she felt tighter than usual but was still wet as ever. He knew he couldn't last long, especially after nearly cumming earlier.

"Jaeyun, please move," Della breathed out, starting to feel pleasure again.

Both Jake and Della let out a loud gasp at the sensation. The pace began to quicken in no time, making the scene look like it came straight out of an incognito site. 

"Oh my– fuuuuuuck!" Della moaned loudly, feeling fuller than she's ever felt. "Oppaaa! Daddyyyy!" little tears began pooling in the corner of her eyes. "Aaaaaaahhh!"

"So good, baby. Taking both of us so well," Jake leaned forward to mumble in her ear. "Shittt, so tight baby," his face held a large smile and left temporary hickies around her neck and shoulders. "My good girl."

There's no doubt that the back end is tighter, but Jake's favourite was really the sight of having two of her holes stuffed, and the fact that him and Sunghoon were the first ones to do that.

The three were so into each other that they didn't notice Heeseung getting up to retrieve Sunghoon's old, red iPhone. He knew that they would want the scene to be recorded— for their eyes only, of course.

"I'm recording," Heeseung announced before pressing record. They all turned to Heeseung for a second and resumed like nothing happened.

"Come here, kitten," Sunghoon grunted, pulling Della's face in for a kiss. She moaned into his mouth when she felt her two best friends quicken their pace. 

She noticed Jake tugging at her hair, so she broke the kiss off to then connect her lips with his, bringing a hand back to hold his head in place.

Jay, who did not want to just lay there beside them, started playing with Della's tits while palming himself. He personally doesn't need more, but he did not want the video to appear awkward. 

"You guys really look so fucking hot," Heeseung commented. He turned off the recording and went back to his original spot. "I wanna kiss, baby," his head got closer so Della could easily kiss him.

"FUCK! I'm cumming!" Della pulled away to scream out. Her eyes were closed shut and her open mouth spewed out loud whines after whine.

"Yesss, kitten," "Me too, baby, me too," Sunghoon threw his head back while Jake buried his face in her neck. It did not take the three long at all to reach their orgasm.

"Jay-oppaa," Della managed to let out, weakly stretching an arm out so he could come closer. "I haven't kissed you."

Jay felt his heart swell in adoration and he swiftly did as told without hesitation.

"Fuckk! Aaaahhh!" Della pulled away but kept their foreheads together and squeezed Heeseung's hand.

They looked absolutely ridiculous being in one big huddle (and it was certainly not the most comfortable), yet that was the moment when the five of them were just connected. It's what they needed and exactly what they hoped for tonight.

"I'm cumming, baby," Jake's voice was shaky, and his thrusts started faltering first. "Shit! Good girl, baby. Good girl, good girl!"

"Shit! Shit!" both Jake and Della came around the same time. The former usually takes his time to ride out his high but he almost instantly pulled out so Sunghoon could finish properly.

Sunghoon looked at him in thanks, immediately adjusting his position and hurriedly chased his orgasm. Della started shaking and screaming with overstimulation, letting go of Heejay to hold on tightly to Sunghoon.

"Shit! Ahh baby, almost ther– NOW KITTEN. NOW, now, now!" Sunghoon babbled a bit as his orgasm overtook his body. "Shit," he sighed and relaxed his body, still holding onto Della tightly. "You're amazing, princess. I love you," he chuckled breathily.

"I love you, my prince," Della breathed out with a smile.

The two shared a sweet kiss before Sunghoon pulled away and shifted Della over to Jake, who was now lying beside him.

"What a good girl.You're an absolute champ and you're incredible," Jake couldn't help but chuckle. "We're so fucking lucky, baby. I love you so much," he then connected their lips in a passionate kiss.

"I'M so lucky to have you guys and I just love you sooo much," once they pulled away, Della's head instantly went to rest on Jake's chest. "Let's clean up before we get too tired."

"Oh no you don't," Jake shifted their position so Della would lay on her back. He got on top of her with a mischievous grin on his face. 

"I called dibs on cleaning you off, remember?"

Eventually everyone washed up and got ready for bed. They decided to all sleep together on the makeshift king-sized bed with Della in the centre. They were cuddled closely, but it didn't really matter anymore to them.

"Guys, we're actually really cute," Heeseung giggled. "I fucking love this relationship."

"Just a bunch of bros with our girl" Jake sighed. He held Della tighter to his chest and shut his eyes, ready to sleep.

"For a second there, I thought you were gonna call me a hoe," Della giggled, looking up at him. 

"I'm never gonna call you a hoe, babe! I'm not Sunghoon!" Jake's reply made Sunghoon smack his shoulder.

"I will never call her that!" Sunghoon looked at him with betrayal. "I don't even know what that means but I know it's bad!"

"You call her names in bed, we all know it!" Jake protested back.

"Ya– rarely ever, right princess? Only on certain times and we both have no issues with it," Della nodded at Sunghoon's defence. "See?! Don't kinkshame me, daddy."

"YAA!" Jake shaking Sunghoon's leg off of his own. 

"Today's session just revealed everyone's kinks," Jay laughed. "Sunghoon likes to call Della 'kitten', Jake likes to be called 'daddy', Della apparently likes anal," he stopped himself for saying Heeseung's out of respect.

"Pffftt, okay mister kinky. Didn't know you could go hard like that," Sunghoon grinned. "I thought you just liked vanilla but you were slapping Lala and everything."

"Why do you like to get slapped?" Jay ignored Sunghoon and asked the girl he was semi-holding.

"I don't know! Sometimes I just like things!" Della shrugged defensively. "I like a whole bunch of things!"

"Yeah and your boyfriends all like different things too," Sunghoon chuckled. "You're absolutely perfect for us."

"Awww," Della grinned but got shy and hid her face in Jake's chest. "I'm sorry for making you all join No Nut November. This was really dumb and I'm also really sorry for losing to someone who didn't even join."

"Don't worry about that, darling. It's all forgiven and practically forgo—" Jay's words were cut off by the boom of Heeseung's voice beside him.

"WAIT!" Heeseung shot up straight in realisation. Della and Jake both jumped in surprise while Sunghoon and Jay flinched. Heeseung looked back at them with horror in his eyes.

There was a reason why he was quiet the whole time. It's because it just hit him how;

"YOU GUYS FUCKING SAW ME IN MY WEAK STATE!"

i gotta be honest, i hate to be that person but i was feeling really insecure about my writing tbh. like the first draft was not hot AT ALL and i wanted this long awaited/overdue smut to make you guys all hot and bothered y'know? i think it's much better now and i'm feeling both proud and insecure but i hope you enjoyed it and happy anniversary! taglist: @duolingofanaccount @lalalalawon @clar-iii @deafeningballoonpeach

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚Not Too Late

✧.* Pair - Miguel O'hara x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Swearing, a tiny bit of violence, sexual and also little violent choking, implied smut at the end.

✧.* Summary - Miguel knew from the moment he laid eyes on her, she would cause a lot of trouble for him...

✧.* Extra - Reader is a variant of Black Cat. Also I was listening to Not Too Late by Kali Uchis while writing this so... do what you want with that.

✧.* Word Count - 1,012

Miguel has dealt with many creatures, bad guys, and anti-heroes in his life being in places where they shouldn't, but there was one specific situation that he couldn't get rid of. He was utterly confused as to why he couldn't simply send her home just like the others. According to him, she was annoying, arrogant, sneaky, infuriating, and downright a bitch. Lyla would always tell him to give her the benefit of the doubt, but he always just rolls his eyes whenever the hologram tells him that.

"If you hate Y/N so much, then why don't you send her back home?"

He always hears that question over and over again whenever he unknowingly goes on rants about her. Most of the time Miguel ignores the question or makes up a stupid excuse about her being useful in certain missions. He knew his excuses were bullshit. He would never send Y/N on any missions because he "doesn't trust her".

Yet, that little voice inside his head couldn't help but admire Y/N. She is an insanely strong human being. Good with sneaking around, had excellent vision and balance, had a unique ability to alter bad luck, attractive, plush thighs, plump lips, and soft skin. Miguel hated whenever he would think of something positive about Y/N, but he couldn't help it.

Some would think that Miguel's "hatred" for Y/N was love in disguise. Lyla would poke at him for "secretly being in love with Y/N". No matter how many times he would deny it, the little voice in the back of his head would only laugh at him denying it. There are moments Miguel would think about Y/N; how she would look outside of her tight latex suit, waiting for him in bed, ready for him to fuck her. But no matter how many times he would think of her that way, he would express his feelings of hatred towards her to the public.

She had sex appeal and he couldn't deny it. And if there was a chance, he would fuck her.

Y/N was a one-of-a-kind woman. The moment she laid her eyes on Miguel, she knew she had found the one... to pick at. She loved getting under his skin. Why? According to her, it was hot whenever he looked like he was on the verge of beating the shit out of her. She also loved arguing with him. It didn't matter the topic. She just loved the way he would raise his voice at her.

Y/N knew Miguel had sex appeal. She would do anything to get dicked down by him.

Well, luckily for Y/N, she was stuck in one of the situations where Miguel was mad at her. It all started when Miguel sensed her presence in his working headroom.

"Get out, L/N."

Y/N could only smirk, "Oh, but why would I do that, O'hara?" Y/n walked closer to him and stopped once she was about 2-3 feet away from him. He was looking at whatever boring multiverse task he needed to concentrate on with his back turned to her.

"Because I don't want you in here distracting me. Go bother someone else." He stated with annoyance in his voice.

"Why are you always so miserable, Miguel? The Spiderman on my earth is always open to listen to my jokes and have fun." Y/N said with a hint of teasing in her voice.

Miguel could only roll his eyes, "Then go to that Spiderman and leave me alone."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. She hated whenever he would say something like that because truth be told, she didn't really like hanging out with the other spider-people. Unless it was Jessica, Hobie, Peter B, or Gwen. She always wanted to be around Miguel because she loved messing with him.

Suddenly, she got an idea in her head. An idea that she knew would piss him off.

"I hope you know a lot of the spiders are running around, spreading that you have a little crush on me. And that's the reason why you won't kick me out because you secretly love being around me." Y/N imparted.

Miguel paused what he was doing, and his eyes became slightly wider. His entire world seems to have fallen apart, but why? He pretends to despise her, but does he also have romantic feelings for her that he is unaware of? Why was it so important to him that she told him that? Miguel turned around to look at Y/N.

"From the look on your face, I can see that-"

"Who is spreading this misinformation?" he asked in a demanding tone. Y/N could only smirk.

"Wipe that smug smile off your fucking face and-"

"That doesn't matter," she walked closer to him and started rubbing her fingers up and down his muscular arm, "It's okay to admit you love and need me. I know things could get a little lonely down here and-" but before Y/N could finish her sentence, Miguel grabbed her by the throat and slammed her on his table. (Lyla calls it his working table. ) Not too hard to hurt her, but to force her where she needed to be.

That was the moment he realized he was done hating. He was done ignoring the fact he was attracted to her. He was done ignoring the fact that there was always sexual tension between them. He wanted to shut her up and destroy her. Make her a whimpering and moaning mess because of him. He was finally happy to release all of his sexual frustration and anger on her body.

He got on top of her and started zipping down the zipper to her suit, exposing her tits and the black panties she wore underneath. He started to lower himself to the same level as her pussy and looked up at her with those venomous eyes. He started to slowly remove her panties and smirked at her reaction.

"Maybe this will finally shut you up."

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

yo

[star-girl-05]

Together Forever??

James Wilson x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

For the better part of a week you’ve noticed James has been acting suspiciously. At first you thought it was just your imagination, now though you're convinced that he’s cheating on you. It was small things at first, staying at work late, leaving the room to answer phone calls. You tried to ignore it but with his history you just couldn’t let it go. Though instead of confronting Wilson you’ve decided to question House. If Wilson’s cheating on you he would know. 

So with determined steps you make your way to House’s office. You find him bouncing his signature red ball against a wall seemingly deep in thought. Not that it, would stop you from questioning him.

He ignored you as you entered the room, his only acknowledgement is he stopped tossing his ball. “Tell me what's going on with Wilson”, House chuckles at your bluntness. Finally turning towards you. 

“Why-” you already know whatever he’s going to say is going to be complete bullshit. Just by that look on his face. 

“Don’t lie, just tell me what's going on with him.” you didn’t want to sound pathetic but you can’t help but ask him, “Is Wilson cheating on me?” you're scared to look him in the eye just waiting for whatever wisecrack he was bound to say, and he was about to but the look on your face made him stop. 

“Shouldn’t you ask him?” He of course knew what was up with Wilson, and he was definitely not cheating on you. 

“If he was cheating on me would he really admit to it?” 

“You think I would tell you, there's a code to these things Bros before hoes” He was trying to get you to leave but you were determined.

“House, tell me or... I’ll slash your motorbike tires”, yes that’s how desperate you are. House pondered your threat only for a second before finally telling you that Wilson was not cheating on you. Which in all honesty shouldn’t convince you that he wasn’t but you were so desperate for it to be true that you just believe him. Though you can’t help but ask him what other explanation there could be. Trying to eliminate any doubts you still had.

“Would you just go bother Wilson. Why he’s so infatuated with you is a mystery to me, you must be really good in bed to make up for you being so annoying.” You can't help but roll your eyes, if Wilsons so infatuated with you why is he acting so sneaky. Answering all those phone calls in another room, saying he's staying at work late only to find out he's left hours ago. All clear signs he's cheating on you. What other explanation could there be?

It all seems to click, “He’s proposing” you don’t even realize you’ve said it out loud till House responds back. 

“Wilsons going to be disappointed you figured it out, he’s been planning this for the longest time.” You can’t believe you thought he was cheating on you, when in reality he was planning on proposing. You felt like such an asshole, and now not only did you think he was a cheater but you ruined his proposal. 

There was still time you could salvage this. Wilson had no idea you knew so you could just pretend you didn't. House is sure to play along otherwise Wilson is bound to rip him apart.

Just like you predicted, House agreed to keep this a secret from Wilson. So all you had to do was act like you had no idea your sweet, perfect boyfriend was proposing. Which was harder than you anticipated since every time the two of you were together you thought he was proposing. It was honestly driving you a little insane waiting. After a week (which felt like an eternity) he popped the question, and of course you said yes.

[blushweddinggowns]

Would love to see your take on 23 or 28 good potential for fluff or angst or maybe both?

I am such a fluffy bitch! I can't help myself. If I get another one of these I will do angst because I need to work on that. But for now fluffy bullshit is my safe place <3

But I will say this tickled my uh not sfw brain, so watch out for a possible ao3 E addition the other prompt. Maybe! (Probably. the potenial of "Come and get your fix" is insane) But this is "Was it worth it?"

~

Honestly? You'd think Steve would be used to this by now. He was just not the guy that anyone wanted to be with. First there was Nancy, the worst heartbreak he ever had. Then there was Robin, which was better but still kind of sucked. Until Steve realized that oh, wow, this girl is literally my long lost sister. So with that, he had to admit that he was pretty grateful that she was gay as hell. The alternative would have been an absolute disaster. But even before all of that, girls just didn't like being with him. Or at least staying with him.

He was too much of a hopeless romantic, too clingy, too weird. He always fell beneath expectations. People expected him to be cool, suave, to actually match the whole "King Steve" label and be the high school dream boat that he should be. But...Steve just wasn't like that. He wanted too much too fast, always opening up and sharing shit that made people uncomfortable. That made them pull away and find someone less annoying. So he'd retreat back into the popular boy thing, be charming and a little dickish, find a new girlfriend, and start the process all over again.

People just... didn't like going there with him. Not when there were better options. It felt like the only one who could really handle him was Robin. And lately... Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson who was currently in the middle of crushing all of his feelings into the dust.

He thought...Steve wasn't sure what he thought. But it felt like over the past year they had been moving somewhere, to something more. They were friends by circumstance, from all the Upside Down shit and then with Steve being Dustin's chauffer to the hospital for visits. It had all been so simple at first. They would all talk as a group, it would be fun, and then they'd be on there way until Dustin called him up next. Until one day Steve just went by himself. He wasn't quite sure why he did, but the bright smile that lit up Eddie's face when he saw him made sure that he'd keep doing it.

And they would talk for a long time. For a stupid amount of time honestly, all the way until the nurses kicked him out for getting Eddie too rowdy and excited. But it didn't stop when he got out of the hospital. Steve just started going to house, helping him and his uncle out as they got to know each other more. It's not like he had anything else going on. He just never expected Eddie Munson of all people to slowly become the center of his life.

They just... clicked. In a way that no one had expected, least of all them. They were so different, but they also weren't. Not in the ways that mattered. Besides, Steve liked all the play fights and debates they would have over music and movies. He liked ribbing each other over their taste in clothes and their mutual inability to get girls. He loved it even more when Eddie came out to him in the silliest possible way.

"I can't get girls because I'm gay as fuck and they can sense it. You can't get girls because every straight woman that lives here is apparently stupid. Can being too hot ruin your dating life?"

At the time it had made Steve laugh. It also stirred... something in his chest. Something warm and nice that he didn't have time to examine, not when he was too busy reassuring Eddie that yes, he's okay with it. But no, girls couldn't smell it on him. Not that Eddie cared but Steve actually had 0 clue on why no one was interested in him. Just because he was gay didn't mean the girls of Hawkins high knew that. Why weren't they fawning over him? He was so freaking pretty, and creative and fun and...and that's how Steve realized he wasn't as straight as he thought he was.

And because Steve was Steve that meant that he had to make things weird. He started doing stupid shit, like staring at Eddie's perfect mouth all the time, wearing his clothes with permission, just to smell him throughout the day. They started giving each other little nick names, stupid shit that was so close to being romantic. Like sunshine and angel. They started sleeping in the same bed together, spending more nights with each other than apart. Steve would wake up with Eddie wrapped around him, clinging to him like...like they were something more.

And it felt good. Comfortable and safe. And Steve really thought that this had been different. That whatever was going on with him had to be going on with Eddie too.

But now here he was, standing shell-shocked in his kitchen while his very good friend was trying to talk to him about his crush. His crush that had nothing to do with Steve. It wasn't exactly shocking that Steve had made all of that flirtation up in his head. It wouldn't be the first time, he was just delusional like that.

But that didn't stop his heart from breaking when Eddie said, "So...there's this guy whose like, insanely hot? And I think he might be into me. But... I don't really know what to do about it."

Steve really did not want to hear about this. He didn't like it, the horrifying thought of Eddie getting a boyfriend. Because what partner would be cool with them cuddling up together in bed? Who would be down to have their boyfriend's creepy buddy hanging around them all the time? Calling them stupid shit like sunshine? It wasn't going to happen. And acknowledging that hurt...so much more than Steve had expected.

But Steve was a good friend. That was probably the only thing he had going for him. He'd get past it. He always did. He was just going to have to completely restructure the life he had built around Eddie. That's all.

He shoved his feelings back, smiling despite the fact that he felt like he was dying a little inside, "Oh yeah? Tell me about him."

Steve wasn't sure why he asked that. And the dreamy smiled on Eddie's face when he started talking wasn't helping, "He is just awesome dude. Total catch, an absolute sweetheart. And he just fits with me y'know? And, um, I think he feels the same way. But I'm not sure. I'm too much of a bitch to even ask if he's into dudes. I don't know if telling him is worth the risk."

Part of Steve wanted to be a real piece of shit with that. To tell him that yeah, it's not a good idea. He's probably straight and definitely wouldn't be good for him. They wouldn't love him like Steve could. But that didn't exactly count as being a good friend, did it?

Steve kept it all back, his smile tight when he said, "I think that sometimes the risk can be worth it. Do you think he's worth it?"

Eddie laughed, like Steve said something funny instead of trying to be sincere. But he was smiling, staring down at the counter as he fiddled with his rings, "If it worked out, it would probably be the best thing that ever happened to me."

Steve really really did not need to hear that. He could feel his eyes getting wet. He needed to wrap this shit up and send Eddie on his way to mystery man's house before he started crying, "If that's how you feel then go for it man. He'd be lucky to have you."

Steve's voice broke on the last word, something he tried to hide behind a cough. He just wanted this to be over already.

"I think I'd be lucky to have him," Eddie said with a shrug, "But... do you really think I should? Just go for it?"

"Yeah dude, why not tonight even? If he's not doing anything else you can just hop right over," Steve was willing to sign up for anything that got him out of here faster.

Eddie laughed again, completely out of place. He was circling the counter, coming to a stop in front of Steve with a nervous little smile, "You really think so?"

Why did he have to look at him like that? With this big doe eyes, filled with hope. It was silly, what Steve thought didn't even matter, this had nothing to do with him. But that little fact wasn't helping to clear the lump in his throat.

Steve nodded, not trusting himself with words. He expected Eddie to grin, thank him, and head out into the night to profess his love for some other dude. But that's not what happened.

Instead Eddie settled his hands on Steve's shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. He looked nervous, but excited, his eyes boring right into Steve's. He took a deep breath before blurting, "I'm in love with you. Like full-blown. A-And it's probably way to early to be saying that but it's true Steve. It's been driving me fucking insane, because I like want you man. In very non-friendship ways."

Steve stared at him, his mouth hanging open like an idiot. He didn't-wait-huh? What? That can't be right. Eddie couldn't have been talking about him because he didn't-he wasn't-but... now that Steve thought about it, who the fuck else would he be talking about? How would he even have a chance to meet someone else when they were attached at the hip?

He felt so stupid. And so relived. He didn't even know what to do with himself, besides stare at Eddie like a moron. And his silence wasn't helping anything.

"I-um, thought that you might feel the same way since, y'know. Everything. And I know you're not gay-"

It was true, Steve wasn't gay. Not entirely but, "I can be gay for you. I'm so gay for you. I might as well be an Eddie-sexual at this point-"

Steve didn't have time to finish his cringy spiel, not when Eddie was pulling him closer and smashing their mouths together. Steve would thank him later for it, but for now he was too busy melting into his arms.

He felt weirdly good when they finally pulled away, almost like he was high. Just from one little kiss.

Eddie was grinning at him, looking at Steve like he was the best thing that ever happened to him. And what an insane thought that was huh? But Steve would take it.

Steve smiled up at him, taking the time to wrap his arms around Eddie's neck, "So...was it worth it? The risk?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, his hands wandering downward to rest on Steve's hips. And then Eddie was actually lifting him into the air and onto the counter, settling between his legs like the gesture didn't just send Steve into a tailspin. Why was that so hot? When did his nerdy friend (boyfriend?) become so smooth?

Eddie chuckled before leaning back in. He pressed a light kiss to the side of Steve's lips, sweet enough for him to know it would be burned into his memory until the end of time, "Like you have to ask."

[iwaasfairy]

Since someone brought up isagi as a big brother, how about bachira as a younger brother? feel like he'd be kind of a pervert, trying to peek at his older sister through the crack of the bathroom. :3

Since I’m always on my big bruDDER bullshit I’ll give little bro some love too pHDHFJSHHD but honestly if he was your younger twin???? HeD ACTually be so insane for it iT WOULD WORK SO WEll just listen

He’s been with you since he was born (technically even before that), you two were inseparably attached at the hip until you were much too old, he’s seen you through every growth spurt and every dip and twirl has been with him, by him. He’s the only person you fall asleep with. The only person who can slip into your bathroom while you’re peeing without even blinking. The one person who could probably read your mind in a dark room— and people are gonna try and tell him he can’t be with you however he fucking pleases?

YOUVE always been the only person who’s understood him. You’re the only person who he’s ever thought of with his hand wrapped tight around his cock and panting until he spills cum all over his stomach. You’re jus so pretty, soft and forgiving, and he likes you so much. He likes you so much, it’s honestly enough to make him sick. Enough to make him nervous and annoyed when someone looks at you for too long, and really, even a little murderous. Because really, why the hell are they looking.

The monster likes you too, loves you even. He doesn’t get caught up in what it tells him often, but when he says to sneak into your room late at night and play with your tits - it’s easy to agree. He wanted to do that anyway. Or play footsie under the table and get handsy too, sliding his fingers around under your panties in the mess of slick and cum. Or fuck his cock raw into your clenching little cunt when he ties you to his bed, moaning your name a little bit too convincingly.

Bc you love him, you’ll let him. You always do.

[the-crow-binary]

dude i was rewatching the netflix show to prepare for nocturne (i’m super late i know) and it’s insane to me how childish and poorly written it is. like, it was literally embarassing to watch it on the tv in the same room as somebody else because of all the “swearing is funny” humor and the excessive amounts of “well, that happened!” jokes. like damn i understand why this show got hated on so much… anyway uhh yeah i’m sending this to ur inbox bc i saw one of ur posts on my feed and i was like “this guy gets it”

Haha, I watched the four seasons with one of my big brothers! (Well, I watched the first two seasons alone, but rewatched them with him at some point after s3 came out) You can imagine my embarrassment at... Certain scenes... At the end of a.... Certain season.... 🙃

Honestly the swearing and the awkward jokes are the least of the problems this show has lol (even if it can be annoying and straight up bullshit when Alucard and Sypha swear and blame Trevor's influence on that. No, they were rude cunts before Trevor.) But I'm glad my humble opinions aligned with yours! ❤️

[nonpracticinghumanbeing]

Revenge is the safe space is such a ridiculous take that I have to get it out of my system or I will go insane.

Revenge is a ship whose captain is utterly useless. He gets the ship beached because he forgets someone should be steering it. He loses the hostages AND gets himself caught by the natives who only let him go because they realize he poses no threat (which is super telling given their history with white colonizers). In the Republic he immediately gets himself in trouble with Jackie and it's only Blackbeard's reputation that saves him. He walks straight into Geraldo's trap and almost gets killed, only to be rescued by Edward again. He is too much into Ed and too fucking polite to question Jack's motives until it's way too late, thus putting all of his crew in harm's way.

Revenge is a ship whose captain inspires zero confidence in his crew. They all know he's terrible at being a pirate and they keep saying he will probably get them all killed. He admits he has no idea what to do, which can't be great for the crew's morale - and on a ship the crew's willingness to carry out orders without hesitation may be a matter of life and death. He fucking treats his whims and fancies as more important than the crew's well-being and gets annoyed when the Swede gets scurvy after wasting all their oranges on a cake. And he doesn't even see it was his mistake.

And it's not even like the crew get space to be themselves in return either. Stede is great at talking about how they can be themselves on the Revenge, but in reality, they either get scolded when they don't do what he would like them to do or he doesn't notice their feelings at all because he's too preoccupied with his own bullshit. He tells them to enjoy their vacation however they like and then immediately scolds Wee John and the Swede for rough and tumbling because it's not how he would like them to behave. He doesn't notice Lucius is upset after being locked by Jim because he's too annoyed at not having his scribe to take down his musings. He doesn't notice how upset Jim is about their trip to St. Augustine because he's too excited about treasure hunting with Edward.

So let me ask: who exactly is safe on the Revenge? For all his terrible management style, Izzy would at least make sure the ship was stocked properly and had all stations manned at all times. I would 100% prefer Izzy to be my captain than Stede because Izzy would at least keep me as safe as it's possible for a pirate to be - and all he really wanted in return was discipline which is the most basic thing on a properly run ship.

So yeah, Izzy needs to change and learn to be more accepting, but Stede needs to learn EVERYTHING, from being a sailor to fucking noticing his crew's mood.

On a more personal note: I'm truly perplexed how many people think safe space simply means a space where one can talk about their feelings without being judged. It is that, sure, but that is step two. Step one is making sure the space is safe from the outsiders. It's taking up arms and carving this place out in a hostile world and then standing one's ground and defending it. Izzy stopped on step one and refuses to go any further. But Stede would like to have step two without ever taking step one and that’s not how the world works.

[rizz-god]

Happy 1 Year to Burning Shores! (plus me being cringe and sappy)

The fact that it's already been entire year is honestly insane. Despite being a newer-ish fan to the Horizon series, these games have had such a huge impact on my life. And when the Burning Shores was announced, little did I know what would be in store for.

First off, Aloy's story post-Forbidden West was handled so incredibly well. Seeing how far she's come since Zero Dawn and her evolution throughout FW has been such a treat to watch. It still blows my mind that high school me thought ZD looked boring and uninteresting then and now I can without a doubt that the Horizon series is one of my favorite video game series.

Burning Shores is still my favorite DLC to this day and I am so glad Guerilla Games told this DLC's story in the way that they did. Seyka's introduction to the series was such a breath of fresh air. And her and Aloy's journey together was some of the most wholesome shit I've ever seen. I pretty much declared myself a Seyloy shipper the moment those two awkward dumbass lesbians (affectionate) started talking to each other, and watching their relationship develop over the course of the DLC nearly brought me to tears.

As a little chaotic lesbian enby, seeing this sort of representation in media as popular as Horizon made me so happy to see and I absolutely cannot wait for what GG has in store for Aloy and Seyka in H3. No matter what direction they decide to take, I have no doubt that GG will handle these two and the story at large in an exciting and meaningful way.

But above all of this, not only did Burning Shores tell an impactful story, it also led me to meeting so many incredible people who I am so honored to call my friends (this is where I'm going to cringe and sappy).

Like seriously, I joined the Moth to Flame discord server (and then later became a mod but that's irrelevant) on a complete whim and it is still one of the best decisions I've ever made. Everyone was so welcoming to me and I felt like I fit right in and like I was finally at home (insert The Idea of Home here for dramatic effect). Words cannot simply describe how much everyone of y'all mean to me and I am honored to have met each of you. Y'all rock and I am grateful for all the late nights spent on voice chat and all of the server bullshit and memes and chaos we inflict on each other everyday.

And so, to show my appreciation and to annoy y'all's inboxes, I'm shouting all of you out because this is my post and I can do whatever I want (bite me): @cookie-druid @a-little-ferret @katiemcgrathisdaddyaf @samaelschain @verthanthi @despite-the-nora @drayna @nico-demons @xamiipholia @solitae @hartlesshart @hellcheercaine @zerodawnkitewalker

And of course, shoutout to all of the other Moths that I forgot to tag (there's too many of y'all, okay lmao) and know that I appreciate y'all just as much everyone else listed above.

Happy 1 year to Burning Shores and to all of the memories we've made along the way! <3

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

@ckhalloween23 heyyyyyy bestie(s) I know I'm an entire-ass month late, BUT

HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE ELIMETRI DARKFIC I PROMISED

Listen, y'all can't give me a "Serial Killers" prompt and the opportunity to write the dark, unhinged Demetri Alexopoulos of my dreams presented on a silver platter and NOT expect me to go a little apeshit ^^;

Or. A lot apeshit. Because boy did I let this funny little comic relief guy SNAP ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Also, funnily enough, I realized over the course of the last year or so that I'm probably autistic? For the longest time I held off on writing Hawk's POV because I hc him as autistic and I didn't think I could do him justice, but...I've unlocked this Fun Secret Collector's Item now, I guess XD Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz POV acquired!

Decided to give it a stab here, since him having NO fucking idea how to react to Crazy Demetri was just too much fun. Hawk came to me surprisingly easy once I got started, actually??? I mean I've always related to him a lot but I had no idea it was like. An autism thing. I thought it was just an ND thing akisudhlkuhyfu

Head's up to Tory and Robby stans...this may not be the fic for you. You have been warned 👀

CW for blood, violence, knife-threatening, light knifeplay, toxic relationships (although YMMV), mentions of murder, implied slut-shaming, homophobic slurs, and sexual subtext.

Fic under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

***

Hawk’s on his 30th rep when he hears the front door.

He stops mid-jab, the punching bag rattling on its chain as it sways back and forth. Scoffing, he rolls his eyes.

His mom must be home early. How fucking annoying.

He was looking forward to having the house to himself. With his father on a weekend-long business trip and his mother at her Friday night wine hangout, he was finally going to catch up on training without any interruptions.

The last thing he needs is to be outdone by Kyler Park and Robby Fucking Keene.

Hopefully his mom won’t come knocking, pestering him to watch movies or some other frivolous crap. He doesn’t have time for that anymore.

Strange. There’s a notable lack of the jingling and clattering that usually comes from 50 million things being shifted through an oversize purse. Hawk pauses, listening for any noise.

Maybe he imagined it.

“What the hell.” He takes a sip of the Red Bull on his bedside. Some sleep-deprived delirium or whatever it was wasn’t going to fuck up his focus.

Sure, he’s been averaging 5 hours a night, but who gives a shit? It’s not like anyone in high school actually gets enough sleep.

Sensei Kreese said in ‘Nam, they had to be ready to fight on a moment’s notice—geared to slaughter enemies after a mere 30 minutes’ rest in 48 hours. Hawk doesn’t strive for anything less.

The stairs creak.

His mom isn’t usually one for sneaking past his room, but perhaps she’s too tired to be chatty. He thanks the powers that be this seems to be the case, and returns to his reps.

Jab, cross, roundhouse. Jab, cross, roundhouse. Elbow. Knee to the chest.

He counts them out as he goes, power surging through him. Sensei will be sorry he started singing Keene’s praises when Hawk’s a better fighter than that piece of shit ever was.

Because throwing someone off a balcony when they had their guard down was a coward’s move. Typical Miyagi Do bullshit.

God, Hawk hates them. Hypocrites. Losers. Pussies.

He thinks of a new insult every time he lands a punch.

Miguel’s fucking insane for not appreciating what Cobra Kai did to get payback. What Hawk did to get payback.

His fists are starting to ache, fingers burning from being smashed against rubber again and again. Hawk doesn’t care.

Sensei would say the pain makes him stronger.

Jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross—

“You know, at some point, I think you’re as good as you’re going to get at punching.”

A shadow blocks the hallway light.

Dread grips him in frosty talons. His arms still, the punching bag swinging back and smacking his chest.

He gasps, stumbling back. Still, he refuses to look at the doorway.

Refuses to let Demetri see his shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

He presses as much venom into the words as possible. Enough intimidation, and Demetri will back down.

He knows now that Hawk is as real a threat as he ever was. And Demetri’s smart enough not to keep poking at a tiger that’s already mauled him.

“In what world would I not remember where you keep your spare keys?” Demetri sneers.

Well. Maybe that’s a bit generous.

“What do you want?”

Hawk keeps his tone steely, hoping he can kill whatever plans are swimming around his ex-best-friend’s head before they even form. In all likelihood, Demetri’s here to be a nuisance at best and a night-ruiner at worst.

Fucking Demetri. He’s always been such a distraction.

Hawk needs to get rid of those.

He thought he did. But Demetri is apparently either too stupid or too obsessed with the past to be properly scared away.

Irritating, but admittedly also interesting. It shows a kind of boldness that he wouldn’t expect Demetri, of all people, to have.

“Maybe I want to check in on my best friend.” Groaning footfalls as Demetri starts to slowly cross Hawk’s room. “I see you avoiding me at school. And you didn’t even bother to show when your little friends crashed Sam’s party. Perhaps I want to see how you are, hmmmm?”

And try as he might, Hawk can’t pick up the usual sarcastic edge to Demetri’s tone. He frowns at his far wall, confused.

There’s something odd in Demetri’s voice, and Hawk can’t for the life of him pick up what it is.

He still refuses to look at his oldest friend. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction of undivided attention.

Demetri is a pest, and should be treated as such.

“We’re not best friends,” Hawk says tightly, landing another punch on his bag. “Whatever we were? It’s done. Has been for a long time. Why can’t you get that?”

He finally graces Demetri with a look. He’s expecting the usual sullen look—scrunched brow, open mouth, widened eyes. Like he’s eternally surprised Hawk doesn’t need him anymore.

A look where maybe, if he prods it farther, Demetri will storm off. Or run off crying. Be out of Hawk’s sight.

Be somewhere where Hawk doesn’t have to think about that night at Golf N Stuff. Or how it felt to watch Demetri writhe on the floor. Or the streams of vomit that ripped from Hawk’s stomach as soon as he got home.

Or what he did to himself in the wee hours of the morning, when no one—not his mother, not Cobra Kai, not Sensei Kreese—was around to see.

But when Hawk glances over now, Demetri is smiling.

Not a contemptuous sneer, or a pained grimace. A full-on grin, splitting his cheeks and stretching much wider than the situation calls for.

Hawk inhales sharply.

Demetri shakes his head, laughing. “It’s almost endearing, you know. What a tryhard you are.”

He squares his jaw, refusing to budge as Demetri advances on him. “I thought I made it pretty clear what I think about you. You want another reminder?”

Hawk balls his fists, trying not to think about how hard the words are to force out. How hard he’s working to keep the iron shell he’s built around himself intact.

A strange smell hovers around Demetri. Acrid and metallic, like he’s spent too much time mucking around inside one of those computers he’s so besotted with.

“How revoltingly naïve.” Green eyes burn into him like acid, the glint behind them unlike anything he’s ever seen. “You thought you’d break my arm once and be done with me?

Hawk finds himself backing away.

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Hawk.”

Something in the way Demetri spits his new name finally gives him clarity.

“So what the fuck do you want from me?” he spits. “Why did you come here?”

“I came here because you were right. About everything.”

Any response is snatched from Hawk’s mouth.

For several seconds, all he can do is stare. Demetri smirks, apparently reveling in getting a leg up.

Hawk is so confused that he can’t even find it in himself to be angry. A strangled “what?” is all that comes out, pulling a snigger from his adversary.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out. Becoming the scariest fighter in the Valley. Making everyone quiver at the sight of you. Doing whatever you like because people aren’t brave enough to tell you no. Becoming your badass karate teacher’s little golden child. Getting rid of your weaknesses. Getting rid of me. But there’s one thing you got wrong.”

Typical Demetri. Monologuing around the point.

But Hawk is, nonetheless, finding his confusion turning to intrigue.

The mopey kicked puppy routine had gotten unbearably tedious. At least Demetri finally has the decency to give Hawk some variety.

“Oh, yeah?” He curls his lip. “What’s that?”

Demetri casually leans on Hawk’s dresser, like this is nothing more than a Friday night video game session.

“You think I avoid fights because I’m scared. But that’s not true anymore.” And there’s that grin again—that wide, unnerving grin that looks like it was pasted on from another human being’s face. The sort of manic look that would never in a thousand years belong on Demetri Alexopoulos.

“I avoid fights because I know who’s worth fighting. And who’s worth hurting.”

Well, that’s new.

Hawk narrows his eyes, trying to piece together if this is all some kind of trick.

“See, Eli, you were right that the world isn’t kind to people who get too soft.” Demetri starts sauntering over again, and that odd, metallic smell strengthens. “Or losers. Or weaklings. Or people who admit defeat. Give in too easily. Run off cowering and scared. So I’m shaking all that off. Next time I fight, I won’t lose.”

As Hawk pieces everything together, he scowls.

“So that’s what you want?” he hisses. “A rematch? Like you’d stand a chance.”

“So touchy. Do you only think of people in terms of whether you can beat them in a fight now? Boooooring.”

Demetri clicks his tongue disapprovingly. It’s a mocking gesture he’s been doing since they were little, but now something about it feels chilling.

Hawk’s back bumps his bedroom wall. Demetri’s closing in on him.

Fucking hell—he’s getting fed up with this cat-and-mouse. Why is he even entertaining this stupid nerd again?

It’s not like he gives a shit about him anymore. Then he wouldn’t snap his arm in half.

“Fuck off, Demetri!” he roars. “I fucking hate you. I don’t give a shit about anything you have to say! Get the hell out of my house, or I swear to god I’ll break your arm again.”

He fills the words with fire and force and poison, hoping something will hurt Demetri enough to make him go.

He can’t cave again. Not after he’s worked this hard to oust Demetri and everything he represents from his life.

Not after he’s severed Demetri’s bone with his own hands and smiled with his friends about it.

That should’ve been the last straw. That should’ve been what sent Demetri running for good, abandoning everything they’d once had to save himself.

But it didn’t. It fucking didn’t.

Demetri takes another step into his space, curling his lip. “You’re full of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Eli returns his stare, baring his teeth. “How are you so sure?”

“Because you hesitated.”

Hawk goes rigid.

“I begged you to stop.” Demetri’s hands slide onto the wall on either side of him, trapping him. “And you thought about it. You didn’t break my arm until all your psychotic teammates goaded you on. If you really hated me?” His voice drops to a breathy whisper. “You wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Demetri snickers.

“Poor little Eli. You’ve always sucked at arguing when you get backed into a corner.”

“I still broke it,” Hawk growls. “You know I can do it. Easily. So how are you stupid enough that you’re still fucking with me? You some kind of masochist?”

“You still care about me, Eli.” They’re inches apart now, Demetri leering over Hawk. “You never got over me not wanting to join your little club of sociopaths. Whenever there’s a rumble, you can’t stay away from me. And you want to know what I think?”

“Shut up.”

Demetri’s voice is husky in Hawk’s ear. “You wouldn’t hurt me when there’s no one to show off to.”

Hawk’s done with this.

He lunges, shoving Demetri’s chest and flying at him with an outstretched fist. He waits for that gratifying moment of shock—the familiar shift in Demetri’s features as he realizes yet again Hawk has no intention of going easy on him.

Demetri doesn’t even blink as he moves out of the way.

Hawk course-corrects, swiveling and diving for Demetri again. He throws the fastest punch he can manage straight at Demetri’s jaw.

Why the hell won’t he give up?

Demetri’s fantastic at giving up. He always has been. He gave up on standing up to bullies and he gave up on Cobra Kai and he gave up on Sensei Kreese.

So why won’t he give up on Hawk?

Demetri doesn’t dodge this time. He only swerves, allowing the fist to graze his chin.

He lets out a hiss of pain—angry, but not surprised.

Without warning, Demetri’s hands shoot up. Hawk freezes as long fingers snake across the skin of his arm.

The next second he’s screaming, Demetri’s hands twisting until his skin burns. The other boy’s grip tightens, thrusting him toward the floor.

He’s stealing my fucking moves again.

And frustratingly, he can do them fast. Hawk barely manages to use his other arm to shove Demetri off, stumbling back.

Even one moment of disorientation is too long. Demetri charges again, teeth bared like a wild animal.

One arm slams him against his bedroom wall while the other digs into his chest, squeezing the air out of him. And Hawk hates to admit it, but Demetri’s training-broadened shoulders have a terrifying amount of power behind them.

Nothing he can’t handle. Hawk’s taken on bigger opponents before.

He squirms in Demetri’s grip, his own arms loosening enough for his hands to make a grab for the taller boy’s throat. Then Demetri’s pinning hand is gone, slipping in and out of his jacket in what feels like less than a heartbeat.

Something cold and sharp presses Hawk’s throat. His hands drop, tensing against the wall.

“What the fuck…?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Eli.” Demetri tilts his head, pouting mockingly. “But you make it so damn hard to talk to you. Can’t do a thing without you coming at me like some kind of rabid coyote.”

“So you pull a…are you fucking insane?”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Red Hulk Rage Issues.” The pout morphs into a smirk. “Clearly, you’re not above playing dirty, using that sad little Eli voice of yours to get out of trouble. Figured it was time I caught up.”

Hawk feels something sticky dripping down his neck. His breath hitches in his throat.

He aims a hit at Demetri’s stomach. The taller boy bends with it, and the blade presses harder.

“Oh, come now.” Demetri tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t make me slit your throat.”

Hawk hardens his expression, channeling everything in him into hiding the shock.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you’re in a great place to test that.”

And he’s right. Hawk hates it, but he’s right.

This isn’t the Demetri he knows better than the back of his hand. The Demetri he knows so uncomfortably well that he convinced himself over and over and over that it meant he was sick of the fucking geek.

This isn’t grounded, rational, sensible Demetri. Something’s snipped his threads, made him start fraying at the edges.

He’s unraveling, floating in an ether where the pragmatic and the path of least resistance that he made his life philosophy are losing their appeal. He’s…

Well, it seems he’s done some script-flipping of his own. Decided—perhaps on a whim—to overhaul everything Hawk knew and replace it with something cold and alien and completely fucking unpredictable.

Was this how Demetri felt, that day Hawk showed up at school with spiked hair and a conniving sneer? Is this some kind of payback?

He doesn’t care if this new boy with a knife to his throat killed and gutted the friend he grew up with. It doesn’t matter anymore. That relationship only ever got in the way, anyhow.

He truly could not care less. Honest.

The only emotion he feels is annoyance that this new opponent will be harder to match, with erratic moves and a quickly-thinning conscience.

This Demetri isn’t pulling any punches. One stupid or sloppy move, and Hawk will be on the floor gurgling his life out.

He’s never taken Demetri for someone impulsive, but perhaps he just had a talent for controlling his most brutal and primal urges—for his own safety, if nothing else. Perhaps he’s lost this ability.

Hawk wonders what it says about him that he isn’t bothered by this at all. If anything, he finds the whole concept exhilarating.

Fighting Demetri had gotten so boring. Now, at last, they’re on equal footing.

Regardless, there could be a trace of the Old Demetri yet. He might be able to use that.

“Put the fucking knife away or I’ll call the cops,” Hawk snarls. “Think you’ll get into Stanford with a police report on your permanent record? Or whatever fucking nerd school you’re trying to—”

“With what phone?” Demetri interrupts. “The one you left on the coffee table downstairs so it won’t distract you from wailing on your stupid bag?”

Fuck. How did Demetri even notice shit like that?

Hawk tries not to let the dismay show.

“When my mom gets home, she’ll—”

“Mommy’s not coming for you, Eli.” Demetri’s smirk widens. “Mommy’s getting drunk with all her friends to forget her unfulfilled suburban picket fence life with her nasty, violent delinquent of a son. And Mommy’s going to crash at Michelle Galinski’s house, just like she has every Friday night for the past 10 years. And oh dear…Daddy’s out of town on his top-of-the-month business trip? Looks like no one’s coming to save you.”

Fuck that. He can save himself.

Hawk makes a grab for Demetri’s wrist, other hand clawing at the arm compressing his chest. Demetri seamlessly lifts the elbow of his knife-holding arm and jabs the bony appendage into Hawk’s skin.

The knife blade doesn’t even falter, pressing more firmly into Hawk’s neck. A sting, and he feels something warm trickle toward his chest.

The scent from earlier intensifies, and Hawk realizes abruptly that it must have been blood.

“Mmmm-mmmm.” Demetri purses his lips and shakes his head, like he’s scolding a disobedient child. “It’ll make it much easier for both of us if you don’t act up. I really don’t want to cut your throat, but I will.”

As Demetri sneers down at him, Hawk realizes too late that he couldn’t cover his alarm.

“What? Don’t think I’d actually hurt you?”

The taller boy fiddles with the knife, sending little pricks of pain rippling through Hawk’s neck.

“I guess you know how it feels now,” he purrs.

Hawk spits in Demetri’s face, sudden fury overtaking him.

This pathetic nerd’s not going to make him feel bad now. Not after everything he’s done to crush the part of himself that possibly could feel bad.

“Fuck you.”

And slowly, never once breaking his gaze, Demetri licks Hawk’s saliva off his chin. The dim hallway light just catches the moisture on his face.

“Keep it in your pants, Moskowitz. We’re not there yet.”

Now Demetri’s definitely fucking with him.

It’s growing tiresome. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want that cut in his neck getting any wider.

There’s something distinctly unnerving about the way Demetri’s eyes are boring into him, sizing him up with a kind of cold contempt. Looking at him like he’s nothing more than some ugly insect to crush under his shoe.

It’s the sort of callousness that Hawk has never once—not in the entire time he’s known Demetri—been the target of.

And maybe he’ll admit it. He dislikes it for more than just the fact it throws him off.

Demetri is spiraling into someone unrecognizable, and the sheer foreignness of the whole process makes Hawk shudder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hawk’s voice is small and weak. Like Eli’s.

He doesn’t care.

His entire sense of reality—every absolute, irrefutable truth he’s ever attached to himself and his life and his oldest friend—is uprooting and spinning out of control, and it’s not like anything fucking matters anymore.

Demetri laughs—a sharp, hollow sound devoid of any real humor.

“Like you’re one to talk. I know what you did to Brucks.”

Hawk’s blood freezes.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Demetri’s knife slides from the cut on Hawk’s neck, beginning to tease the underside of his chin. “Mitch told us what happened. And I damn well noticed when Brucks stopped showing up to school. Nice of your war criminal sensei to help you cover that up.”

Hawk’s breath comes in quick, short gasps.

Of course Demetri put two and two together. Of course he’d gone snooping so he could find something else to hang over Hawk’s head.

And the fall of that knife might be worse than the one currently tickling his jaw.

Part of him hates it. Hates being reminded of that day and hates being reminded what he’s capable of. Hates remembering the sight of a living, breathing person crumpling to the floor, and realizing they would never get up again.

But Hawk isn’t stupid. If anyone can play Demetri’s games, it’s the person who knows him better than anyone in the world.

“Demetri.” He keeps his tone as calm and non-abrasive as he can. “Who else’s blood is on your knife?”

Because it was still wet when Demetri shoved it up against him. And Demetri’s a moron if he thinks Hawk missed that.

“Ah. And we finally get to that.” Demetri chuckles, gently tracing Hawk’s jawline with the honed edge. “You see…the difference between you and me, Eli, is that I don’t need anyone’s help to hide my bodies.”

His heart drops to his feet.

“What did you do?”

“Not any worse than you.” Demetri cocks his head. “I hurt someone who deserved it.”

“Demetri.” Hawk steels his voice. “What did you do?”

Because whatever it was, Hawk sure as hell needs to take the proper precautions to make certain he isn’t next.

“Stopped at the convenience store on the way over here.” Demetri follows the knife with his eyes as he talks, expression almost affectionate. “Ran into one of Kyler’s old buddies from the wrestling team. One of the kids who used to call us fags, remember? He thought it would be fun to shove me around. So I pretended I was running my ass away, and got him to chase me somewhere a little more…private.”

Hawk gapes at him.

“Did you really…?”

“Shanked the asshole like a pig. He was so surprised he didn’t even fight back. And let me tell you, it was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

And there’s that laugh again—the broken, disjointed chortles that feel so jarringly out-of-place. Green eyes shining with a frenetic light that makes Hawk’s hands grow slick with sweat.

Demetri leans in again, knife held steady as his lips brush Hawk’s ear.

“I know how it feels, you know. I know what it is to get so angry that you don’t even know what your body’s doing until it’s too late. Watch the life fade out of another human being’s eyes. Realize you like it. Sit there panicking about being some kind of inhuman monster and then suddenly realizing you don’t fucking care. And I suppose…I suppose that’s another reason you were right. There is a certain freedom in embracing that the world is cruel and cutthroat and unforgiving. In finally unmuzzling the wild animal thrashing around inside you and letting it hunt the way it was always meant to.”

Hawk shudders.

Sensei Kreese promised no one would ever find out about Brucks. Staged some kind of car accident or binge-drinking tragedy or drug OD or some other way stupid teenagers die all the time. Kyler was barred from the funeral, with Kreese worried (probably reasonably) that the dumbass would let something slip.

Kreese told the class that if anyone snitched, he’d be more than willing to look the other way as they met the same fate as Brucks.

Hawk hated how much he enjoyed it. He hated how after the deed was done, he couldn’t find a scrap of guilt in his psyche. It made him feel detached from himself—the abstract idea that doing that to another person was bad, but the complete lack of any emotions to back it up.

But that’s who he is now. No going back, he supposes.

Perhaps, on some level, he figured Demetri would pick up on this and leave him alone. Decide that Hawk’s path was too dark and too dangerous for his pasty basement nerd tastes, and stay huddled away with the Miyagi Dos singing kumbaya.

That would probably be best for him, anyways. Hawk still doesn’t know what other horrific shit he has it in him to do, especially when his victim pleaded so hard for mercy that would never come. When Brucks’ fruitless begging gave him an unmistakable rush.

And yet here Demetri is, claiming he was in a similar position. Claiming he lost control.

It isn’t that Demetri can’t put on an act if he needs to. But on some level, Hawk’s always been able to tell when his best friend is exaggerating or embellishing to make a story more interesting. There’s a kind of snarky undertone he uses, always giving that he isn’t completely serious. Subtle, but easy to pick up if you’re familiar with it.

There’s none of that here. If anything, this is the kind of emotional vulnerability Demetri never displays intentionally.

Until now, apparently.

Hawk bites his lip. “You’re not lying, are you?”

“You’re so cute.” The tip of the knife jabs into the underside of Hawk’s chin. “You thought I was some…what? Some sissy little do-gooder? The pinnacle of morality and mercy and all great virtues? No, no.” He giggles. “I’ve always been as fucked up as you. I only managed to keep it buried longer.”

Hawk scowls, suddenly remembering exactly who he’s talking to.

“Give me a fucking break. You joined the pussy-ass ‘defense only’ karate dojo. Your entire philosophy is about being sissy little do-gooders. Like you’d have the balls to pull even half the shit Cobra Kai—”

The knife flies back to the wound in his throat, Demetri using his arm to ram Hawk harder into the wall.

“You think I ever gave a flying fuck about Miyagi-Do?” he spits. “You think I’m some slavering pet like you, tripping over my little lapdog paws to appease my sensei’s every command? You think these asinine karate wars ever mattered to me? No.” He shoves his face into Hawk’s, blood on his breath. “You’re the one so obsessed with following orders that you can’t even remember who you were before you became some demented old man’s attack dog. You’re the one so drunk on loyalty to a fucking karate dojo that you can’t see none of this shit matters.”

Hawk bares his teeth, hoping with everything he has that Demetri won’t notice him shaking.

“Easy for you to say, when you pussied out after one punch in the face,” he sneered. “Of course you want to believe all of this is pointless when you’re on the losing team. But I’m not like you, Demetri. I’m no quitter.”

“Oh, how admirable.” The knife presses a little harder. “Tell me then, Hawk. How’s being on the same team as Kyler? As fucking Robby Keene? You excited for the chance to help them hurt Miguel again?”

Red-hot rage rips through Hawk. He lifts a leg and knees Demetri’s shin as hard as he can.

Demetri barely even winces. His other foot kicks up, ramming the side of Hawk’s knee. Hawk scrambles for balance, heart pounding as he just avoids falling into the knifepoint.

“Thought that’d hit a nerve.”

“Fuck you!” Hawk spits. “Keene was from your fucking dojo! You fought with him, too!”

“Not since he hurt Miguel.”

Demetri’s voice is frigid, rivaling the most biting winter rains. Every inch of him drips with a venomous hatred that Hawk has never seen before.

Not directed at him. Not directed at anyone.

“And now he’s in your dojo. Funny how that works.” Demetri clicks his tongue. “Guess your roaring rampage of revenge was all for naught.”

“It wasn’t.” Hawk curls his lip. “You were all responsible, and we got our paypack. It’s not our fault Miguel wasn’t grateful.”

“Ooooh, gotta love the Hawk’s impeccable logic! ‘Ah, yes, I think I will terrorize everyone in this dojo except for the person who actually almost killed my friend, who I will agree to team up with for some reason!’” Demetri returns his sneer. “Are you really such an obedient little bitch that you do whatever your precious sensei tells you? Even when you damn well know it makes no sense? You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

“Park and Keene know their place,” Hawk hisses. “They know I’m the alpha. They answer to me.”

Demetri cocks his head, looking amused.

“Even if I were to believe that. Do you like sharing a class with those assholes? Do you like knowing that if one of them were to get their ass handed to them by a Miyagi-Do or an Eagle Fang—by Miguel—that you’d be expected to rescue them?”

“I’d do it.” Hawk grits his teeth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I’d fucking do it. Sensei Kreese gave Sensei Lawrence and the others a chance to join back up with Cobra Kai, and they said no. Miguel chose his side.”

Demetri sighs, expression almost pitying.

“I guess ‘Cobra Kai for life’ trumps a Cobra’s desire to beat another Cobra into the damn ground. Kind of a shame. I think you’d enjoy hurting them.”

What Demetri said earlier circles back into his mind.

I avoid fights because I know who’s worth hurting.

Hawk straightens, keeping his composure.

“Sensei says we need all the allies we can get,” he says. “Even if we don’t like them. I’m putting up with Kyler and Robby long enough to win the tournament, and that’s it. Then I’ll find some way to weed them out.”

“I doubt it.” Demetri smiles down at him. If it weren’t for the knife, Hawk would punch his teeth in. “Contrary to how you act, I know you’re a smart guy. If you knew how to get rid of them, you would have already. No, Eli…” His voice drops to a purr. “You’re stuck with them, aren’t you?”

Hawk feels sick.

Leave it to Demetri to pinpoint his deepest fears—a karate clan filled with the worst people Hawk knew. Not a single friend to speak of, and a sensei with constantly divided attention.

Even Tory was turning out to be a fucking snake in the grass. She certainly took to the boy who nearly killed her ex with not an ounce of guilt.

And yet she believed with all of her being that Demetri deserved a broken arm for what Robby Keene did. That he was a pussy for crying out in pain. Actions didn’t matter to her—only the name branded across the merchandise you wore and the color of your gi at tournaments.

For the first time, the thought makes Hawk seethe.

All this time she’d seemed nothing but tough and fearless, but all she was was a shallow bitch who cared more about rank and status than a damn thing you actually did.

She was always going to hate Sam LaRusso for being rich and popular. She was always going to hate Miyagi Do for its association with LaRusso. But the second Keene bailed? Put on a belt with a cobra on it and showed off his snake-snatching skills?

She couldn’t wait to get on his dick. The filthy slut.

And suddenly Hawk realizes that he hates her, too. He hates so many of the people who are supposed to be his allies. But he can’t afford to think like that. And most of all, he can’t afford to let Demetri see it.

He glowers up at his ex-best-friend, keeping his gaze stony. “And why do you care? You have your posse of Miyagi losers to pal around with. Why do you give a shit what I do? Just go home to your little—”

“I left Miyagi-Do!”

The words come out in a forceful scream that practically knocks Hawk even further into the wall.

The sheer disdain in Demetri’s eyes for the group he had so cozily assimilated into sends Hawk reeling. He’d never—not in this lifetime or the next—expect Demetri to toss the whole lot of them out like garbage.

Demetri breaks into another grin, reveling in Hawk’s stunned silence.

“See, that’s another difference between you and I, Eli. I don’t need some washed-out old man telling me what to believe and how to fight. I can think for myself. And frankly, I got sick of the ‘safety in numbers’ business when it seemed ‘the numbers’ were always the ones who got to pick my enemies for me. And no one—” His eyes burn into Hawk. “No one decides that but me. I hurt who I like when I like, and I’ll fucking gut anyone who gets in my way.”

Hawk exhales slowly, keeping his scowl pulled tight.

“So…what?” Hawk sneers. “You’re going to fight Cobra Kai by yourself now? That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Not all of them. Some of your class are just brainwashed idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.” He sighs, shaking his head. “And you, Eli…well, I think you’ve lost sight of who your true enemy is. I was hoping I could help.”

“You really bounced?” Hawk narrows his eyes, still trying to make sense of everything. “After everything, you…just up and left?”

It can’t be that easy. He knows it wouldn’t be in Cobra Kai.

“Yeah.” Demetri shrugs. “And now I have way more time for important things.”

“I don’t get it.” Hawk’s frown deepens. “Why would you strike off on your own? Did something happen?”

“You happened.”

Short. Simple. Concise.

Completely baffling.

Not that that was anything new today.

Maybe it’s Hawk’s imagination, but the knife loosens a little.

“Don’t you get it?” For the first time all night, something like genuine anguish prods through Demetri’s voice. “I meant what I said. I never gave a rat’s ass about the karate wars, or the stupid dojo feuds. All I ever wanted was to be worth your fucking time again.”

All Hawk can do is stare.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“And sure,” Demetri concedes after a moment. “At first, I wanted to do right by Mr. LaRusso. By Sam. They were the ones who taught me. Toughened me up into something worthwhile. Worked with all the shit you thought was a lost cause. But it was always a means to an end to stay relevant to you. Then after what happened with Moon, I genuinely thought the Miyagi-Do philosophy would help you. But I learned soon enough that you were in too deep for appealing to the Old Eli to work. No, I had to speak to you in your own language.”

He licks his lips as the knife starts to slide up Hawk’s neck again, dancing over the bottom of his chin and onto the plump skin of his lips.

“Aggression. Violence. Dominance.” He chuckles. “Wasn’t my go-to, but if it got your attention, I could make it work. And I guess I did, huh? I riled you up enough that you couldn’t leave me alone.”

“You wanted to piss me off?”

“If that’s what it took to keep you coming back for more.” And there it is again—that wide, sadistic grin that feels so brutally wrong. “You can leave me, Eli. You can disown me. You can shit on everything we had and make my life a living hell. But you can’t bring yourself to just ignore me. Because you’re so weak that you can’t bear to refuse the bait when I press your buttons. Because as much as you claim to hate me, you can’t move on from me.”

“And now you ditch your team to…what? Fight me on your own?” Hawk matches Demetri’s grin with one of his own. “I’d wreck you. And deep down, you know it.”

“So presumptuous.” Demetri shakes his head, tutting. “Frankly, I came here tonight because I’m sick of fighting you.”

“Says the one with a knife to my throat.”

“That’s because you don’t fucking listen without me having to resort to extreme measures,” Demetri hisses. “I think we’re a lot closer to being on the same page than you think. And maybe if you dropped this whole tribalism bullshit, you’d see that.”

So Demetri wants a truce. Hawk should have known.

He’s not surprised. But the way they arrived here?

Now that’s a twist.

It’s still an insane concept. Like he’s supposed to let his greatest enemy off the hook. Let Demetri get away with all the ways he’s undermined him and humiliated him and put the Old Eli—the weak, pathetic nerd Eli—on blast for all the world to see.

But if Demetri really left Miyagi Do…

Hawk finds himself wondering how much of his rage against the Miyagi Dos is his own, and how much is Sensei Kreese’s. And if Demetri’s truly deserted “the enemy,” does Hawk still have to hate him?

Does he even want to?

Demetri isn’t that pathetic, sniveling dweeb anymore. He’s crushed his old self as brutally as Hawk has.

Because the Demetri Hawk has known all his life could scarcely bring himself to cook with sharp knives, let alone use one to threaten another human being’s life.

Or take one.

But despite everything, something still doesn’t add up.

“I heard about your little rousing speech,” Hawk says. “About how important it was for Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang to unite against the ‘biggest assholes in the Valley.’ And now you’ve abandoned both of them. Was that all just a load of crap, then?”

Demetri is unfazed.

“Call me naïve, but I thought if Miguel and I were on the same team, you’d finally see some damn sense. You’d hurt me, sure. I’ve known that for a while. But I never thought you’d touch the kid you went on a vengeance quest for.” He shrugs. “Color me surprised when you wrote him off as just another enemy.”

“I told you.” Hawk works his fingers against the wall again, uneasiness trickling over his skin. “Miguel chose his side.”

“Be that as it may. I figured if you were so far gone that you were ready to wail on literally every person you used to be friends with, I needed to adjust my strategy.”

“For what?”

“For getting through to you. For getting you to tell the truth.”

And Hawk doesn’t want to think for too long about what truth Demetri has in mind.

“So you pull out a fucking knife.”

“Mhm.” Demetri snickers. “That’s how you communicate, yeah? Threats and intimidation?”

Hawk clenches his jaw. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Is that so.” The arm suddenly lifts from squeezing Hawk’s chest, long fingers seizing his wrist. He’s too surprised to pry them away.

He really should be expecting this kind of insane bullshit by now.

“Your pulse is going haywire, Eli,” Demetri murmurs. “Either you’re a liar, or something else has you energized. I wonder what that could be?”

It’s then Hawk’s mind fully catches up to its surroundings.

He rips his wrist away, pivoting away from the knife and sending a knee into Demetri’s ribs. The knife tip slices his cheek, but so be it. He’s endured worse.

Demetri gasps, stumbling back. Hawk makes a grab for the knife.

The taller boy is still too quick. He holds the weapon out of reach, using his other arm to thrust Hawk’s body back.

Before Demetri can do anything else, Hawk squats down and sweeps his leg. With a grunt, his opponent stumbles to the floor.

Something seizes Hawk’s ankles as he stands. He cries out as he’s yanked backward with surprising force, landing on the floor next to Demetri.

Hawk scrambles for the bed, trying to writhe out of Demetri’s grip and hoist himself up by the covers.

It’ll be over when I have the high ground.

What a stupid reference to think about.

It reminds him of the kind of game he and Demetri might have once played. Whoever made it onto the bed would get to be Obi-Wan, and whoever stayed on the floor would have to be Anakin, drowning in lava.

The idea leaves him feeling strange.

Demetri doesn’t let go, snarling like a hyena as he tries to tug Hawk back. The knife teases his skin, an imminent threat if he makes any moves too sudden.

He’d kick the annoying asshole away from him, but he doesn’t want the sole of his foot sliced open. If he can’t walk, he can’t fight.

Suddenly, Demetri cries out, grip loosening. In Hawk’s struggles, he must’ve rammed into a sensitive spot. He yanks himself free, scrambling onto the bed and frantically trying to plan his next move.

He realizes his mistake a half-second too late.

Demetri, gleefully bluffing, rises to his full height. Smirking, he pounces like a jaguar.

He lands heavily on Hawk’s stomach, slamming him against the bed. The back of his head smacks against the headboard, filling his vision with stars.

He barely has time to let out a pained gasp before Demetri’s knees are digging into his quadriceps, pinning him again. Growling, he aims a punch at Demetri’s throat.

His fist meets its target, pulling a strangled gasp. Hawk clasps his arms around Demetri’s torso, trying to thrust him off the bed.

For a moment they struggle, yanking and shoving wildly in an attempt to gain an advantage. Then Hawk feels long arms wrap around his back, bony fingers clutching at his throat.

The tingling pain of blade against skin, and Hawk realizes Demetri kept hold of his knife.

Whenever I think he’s finally going to drop that damned thing…

The knife jabs into him, strengthening its grip until he’s pressed flat on his back. At last Demetri loosens his grip, sizing up his victim with a satisfied beam.

Hawk squirms, bed creaking as he does his best to jostle Demetri off. The other boy holds fast, gazing down at him with a pitying look.

The blade digs in again, and Hawk’s struggles weaken.

“Come now. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Let. Me. Go.”

“I don’t believe I was finished.”

Demetri tilts his head to the side, breaking into another crazed grin that sends dread trickling straight down to Hawk’s bones.

“Shut up Demetri.”

“I see you staring at me. All this time, and all these girls you tried so hard to fuck, and everything always comes back to your stupid middle school infatuation.”

“SHUT UP!”

Hawk squeezes his eyes shut, trying to bleach Demetri’s cold, smug expression from his mind.

“Right after you had your Bar Mitzvah, you asked me to kiss you. You figured since I already had mine, we were both adults now. And adults do grown-up things like kissing.”

“STOP IT!”

And suddenly Hawk is screaming at the top of his lungs because he knows where this is going. Because they were just stupid kids, and that can’t mean anything.

“I said of course I would, because I’d always liked you, Eli.” Demetri’s voice only grows louder—more insistent. “And I go in to give you a peck, and you grab my arms and stick your entire tongue in my mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Demetri!”

He feels something wet dribbling down his face, and wonders if the cut on his cheek got stretched wider in his and Demetri’s scuffle. It’s certainly stinging enough for it.

Unless…

Hawk wishes he could dissolve.

“I told you I’d kiss you a thousand more times if you wanted.” Demetri’s voice has grown sharper than his blade. “And I would have. And for a long while, I thought there might be the most infinitesimal possibility that you felt something, too. Now I know I was right.”

He laughs, the sound acrid and bitter and full of flint.

“Because even after everything, you’re still obsessed with me. You watch me across the lunchroom and pretend you’re ‘monitoring the enemy,’ but I know you miss me. You miss when I made you laugh, and you miss when I talked to people so you didn’t have to. You chase me around in every battle, but when it comes right down to it, you can’t hurt me in any significant way until you’re bullied into it. You pick fights with me so you can put your hands all over my body and not have anyone look at you askance for it.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Maybe if he screams loud enough, Demetri won’t pay too much attention to the wet trails smearing the blood from his cuts.

Caustic breath is hovering inches above Hawk, misting onto his lips. Still, he refuses to open his eyes.

“It must be exhausting, you know,” Demetri whispers. “Living your life in denial like that. Wearing your entire personality like some cheap Halloween costume and convincing yourself that’s a fulfilling existence. Don’t you want to be free?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Hawk growls. “I do whatever I like. It’s not my fault you don’t like who I really am.”

“Who you really are, hmmm?” Demetri’s lips brush his earlobe, voice a barely-audible murmur. “So tell me the truth then, Eli. Do you still want me?”

The bluntness of the question almost blows a hole in his composure.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Stop fucking lying!”

All at once, Demetri’s voice is a deafening, furious scream again. The knife slices Hawk’s jaw.

Not enough to do any real harm, but enough to really hurt. Hawk freezes, held prisoner by the burst of sharp, sudden pain.

“It’s always lies, lies, lies with you,” Demetri snarls. “Fake name. Fake hair color. Fake personality. Fake interests. Fake friends who only kiss the ground you walk on because they’ve never seen you at your weakest. Fake relationships with girls you barely let know you—to the point you think they’d leave you for liking to code. And the absolute drivel you feed yourself that this goddamn farce is what you want to live in forever. You think you’re starring in some martial arts epic, and you’re so wrapped up in your stupid method acting that you never want to step offscreen. Like everyone’s on the edge of their seat about your pitiful life like it’s the fucking Truman Show. And at the end of the day? You’re still too much of a pussy to tell me the truth.”

Hawk’s skin tingles, shivers rippling through him. If his heart was pounding before, it’s thundering now.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like fear. He’s used to this new version of Demetri enough not to cower from him.

No, it’s something far worse. And Demetri knows it.

“You can’t hide from me.” The other boy’s tone drips with haughtiness, savoring the ability to confirm Hawk’s worst fears. “I see right through your bullshit. I always have. So I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want me?”

The knife slides down to Hawk’s throat again, pressing firmly.

“Lie and I’ll kill you.”

He’s probably bluffing. Maybe. Surely.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter anymore. Sprawled out on his childhood bed, underneath the only other person he frequently shared it with.

The person he used to watch sleep, wondering wistfully if the freak with the lip scar ever made it into his best friend’s dreams.

He opens his eyes and finally meets Demetri’s gaze, in all of its searing, insurmountable beauty.

“Yeah.”

He breathes it out quiet and fragile—a soft promise. A rare moment of openness that he lets free of his unbreakable shell.

Demetri drops the knife. It falls behind the bed, thumping onto the carpet below.

He swoops down, seizing Hawk’s neck and yanking him up. When their mouths meet, Hawk is nearly thrown back with the force of it.

Demetri kisses like a starved animal, lapping and nipping in a crazed frenzy. The weight of his muscle-toned body is crushing, locking Hawk firmly against the mattress.

He tastes like blood and cold steel and cruelty. Hawk shudders.

This time, he’s certain it isn’t fear. It’s a rush he only thought he could get from smashing his fists against plastic or skin, or feeling another person’s body go limp and lifeless underneath his.

And it’s ironic. The more Demetri tries to devour Hawk, the more Hawk wants to let it happen.

There’s an odd satisfaction to it, he thinks. Being completely at someone else’s mercy.

And Demetri isn’t fighting with any.

***

OKAY, time for some #authorrants because I feel like some of the choices I made in this fic are. Controversial, to say the least. Lmao.

So something that has bugged the crap out of me for a while now is people in this fandom acting like there is any world where Demetri would choose Robby over Miguel. I remember after S3 dropped, there was a lot of "dId tHeY fOrGeT tHe dEmEtRi-rObBy FrIeNdShIp" type sentiment floating around irt why Demetri didn't stay in contact with Robby the way Sam and the LaRussos did. Maybe it's because, I don't know, Robby threw the guy Demetri never actually stopped being close friends with over a balcony and almost killed him???

Like. Not that these showrunners don't ever forget things, but this absolutely is not one of them. Robby paralyzing Miguel is a BEYOND valid reason to sever ties with him, especially when you were just casual dojo bros for a couple months tops. When push came to shove, Demetri pretty unequivocally CHOSE MIGUEL. He brought him a comic book in the hospital! He was thrilled to see him back at school and picked up their friendship right where it left off! He DOES NOT VISIBLY FORGIVE ROBBY UNTIL MIGUEL DOES! Idk idk it just really riles me when people do not take Demetri and Miguel's friendship into account when discussing the Demetri-Robby relationship and why they stopped being friends when they did. Tbh I don't think it's that hot of a take to assume Demetri would have more loyalty to the guy who befriended him when he was a nobody and proceeded to be one of his closest ride-or-die friends for a whole-ass year over the guy he was casual buds with because they happened to share a karate instructor -_____- I could go on about this for several more paragraphs, but that's a rant for another day.

(As far as the LaRussos go, they were all closer to Robby and were basically his adoptive family, which is why they--particularly Sam--were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say the Miguel thing was an accident. Demetri didn't know Robby well enough to make that call, and had no actual proof it WAS an accident except for maybe Sam's word.)

Some other things to ramble about:

I remember in some interview a while back (I think with Martin Kove?) someone asked about Hawk and Marty or whoever was being interviewed said he was "on his way to being a serial killer" or smth. And Jacob's talked a little bit about the kind of escalating delinquent shit Hawk would get up to if he was never redeemed, etc. So going with that: Bold of y'all to assume the kid simping for Hawk since episode 1 wouldn't renounce his morals and join him on the path to villainy. Sorry but I truly believe Demetri's horniness for Hawk can and would win out over any ethical qualms in the end. Also Demetri is horny for violence and evil this is canon otherwise he would in fact not have simped for S3 Hawk so PAINFULLY BADLY god bless

Also this was partly inspired by those post-S3 jokes that were like "lol what happened to Brucks??? Did Hawk kill him???"...well, what if he did, tho? O_____O

Disclaimer that I promise I do not endorse the Tory slut-shaming!!! Tbh I didn't really wanna write it, but...I think given the circumstances, Hawk WOULD be pretty furious at her for getting chummy with Robby and "betraying" Miguel. And unfortunately, since he's a teenage boy with (canonical!) misogynistic tendencies...I do think that would most likely come across as slut-shaming D: But y'all have brains y'all know I don't condone everything I write about aknhdksuyhf (Murder is probably not something you should try at home either btw)

Hopefully I didn't make Hawk too weaksauce in this ^^; My excuses are a) I suck at writing fight scenes and tend to just want to get to the psychosexual dialogue and knife-teasing, so. If I rushed anything to get there I apologize. b) Going by the school fight, Hawk is indeed thrown off when Demetri takes the offensive (especially in a super dramatic kind of way) and his confused pause is in fact enough time for Demetri to get an advantage and c) The man is thrown off his game!!! Thrown off his groove, even!!! His sissy pussy nerd ex-friend shows up acting like a disturbed maniac and he is so O_____o about it that his moves are off!!! He's sucking a little but it's not his fault 💔It's Demetri's for subverting expectations 💔

I also feel like if Demetri started McFucking Losing It and was generally less grounded in the physical and rational world, physical pain wouldn't register quite as much. Like he's in his head enough now that he's kinda lost his grip on reality and things happening in the physical world don't seem as relevant or immediate, if that makes any sense? Also idk. Maybe after the arm break his pain tolerance just went up :O Anyways that's why he recovers pretty fast when Hawk DOES land a hit. Demetri is nuts now 💙

I will die on my hill that Demetri like. Really REALLY isn't as morally upstanding as people like to think XD Like I say this with love but from the top he's been a self-interested little shit who just happens to be extremely loyal to the very small handful of people he actually likes. My dudes, he didn't join Miyagi Do because he liked their philosophy better--he joined because they were less on board with punching him in particular in the face XD This dude saw Cobra Kai being fucks and playing dirty at the AVT and he STILL up and says "I wanna come back because I like the 'safety in numbers' aspect of joining a gang" XD I always got the vibe the "well at least I'm not an asshole LIKE YOU" he throws at Eli later is more because he likes to feel self-righteous. I say all of this as his biggest fan btw. I think more people should embrace the self-interested king he is and write about him and Eli being absolute dicks together instead of to each other 💖

I guess that's what I'm here for!!!

Anyways I think Demetri and Eli have the same potential to be absolutely horrific people, and I think we're all very lucky that Demetri was too lazy to challenge his comfort zone and stick with Cobra Kai XD We're very fortunate he happened to end up using his speed and his brains to help his friends who happened to be on the Good Guy Side rather than his friends who happened to be on the Bad Guy Side.

I also think people put WAY too much stock in Demetri's ability to staunchly stick with the good guys and have enough of a moral backbone to just keep opposing Eli's douchebaggery indefinitely. My mans is NOT that much of a saint, trust. From how quickly he forgave Eli for a HUGE number of atrocities, he seemed to be like. Waiting on his ass for Eli to come back to him. And if Eli never did???

I mean. Bruh. Someone you've been deeply in love with for years throws you out like last night's trash and just progressively starts being more and more awful to you??? You think it's feasible for my boy Demetri to stay strong and sane and reasonable forever, and just keep on fighting the good fight??? HELL NO. This dude is either a) quitting karate and moving schools so he doesn't have to deal with constantly being pummeled by the dude he's in love with or b) going completely fucking insane from the cognitive dissonance of being in love with a dude who constantly beats his ass.

Listen. I have been in love. If my friend who I was in love with turned evil and joined an evil karate school and started wailing on me all the time, I would either pull an Aisha and haul ass out of there or I would simply lose my mind and become evil. Go full Jinx from Arcane. Sorry if you're a hater who doesn't think Demetri Alexopoulos has it in him to go apeshit, but you're wrong and also boring. The funny kooky comic relief guys are always one thread away from losing their shit because everyone assumes because they're funny and kooky they have no depth and no end to their bullshit tolerance. I would know because I am one of these Guys in real life. Put some respecc on my boy's name and also give him another knife 🔪

For anyone looking at me askance like "Demetri doesn't have it in him to kill!" Yes he does. I'm sending him over to your house to stab you right now 🩵

No fr tho, like there was MURDER in this man's eyes when Kyler was bullying Eli in the library. There was MURDER in this man's eyes fighting Robby at the AVT in S4. I have full confidence that if he could get away with stabbing his enemies, he would. So would Eli but I feel like this is a less contested opinion.

Also this is interesting so it's something I might go into detail about in another post, but one thing I noticed while kinda brainstorming how Demetri would snap is that Demetri is loyal to people, while Eli is loyal to concepts and ideas.

Demetri I don't think is actually that married to or slavish about MD principles tbh. Demetri isn't really averse to violence conceptually (even back in S1 it's only ever about him disliking BEING hit, not disliking hitting people!!) and doesn't actually do the defense-only thing that often. Several times we see him instigate with Hawk, or help Sam instigate with CK in general. The times we see him stick his neck out to really help Miyagi Do, he seems like he's doing so more out of loyalty to his friends (namely Sam, Chris, and Nate--also Miguel irt the dojo team-up at the end of S3) than loyalty to Miyagi Do as a dojo.

Eli, meanwhile, is way more loyal to concepts he puts a lot of stock in than the people in his life who challenge this. He sees Cobra Kai as this almighty saving grace that is for LIFE, and he doesn't think twice about ditching Demetri and Miguel when they turn their backs on it. He stays in this dojo even as his friends leave and it fills up with people he hates, and his sensei dismisses and ignores his concerns. Because this dojo saved him from his horrible, bullied life, and now he feels like he owes everything to the Cobra Kai name, despite who's actually behind the name. Also why I think Demetri uses "my karate dojo needs your help!" as the selling point to get Eli to join MD in S4. HIS motivation is probably much more that he just wants him and Eli to stay together, but he knows Eli values dojo loyalty above everything, so Dem kinda makes it more about that than friendship.

Anyways! That's all for now! The whole fic should be up on my AO3 sometime in December :3

[hornyjorny]

late night distractions

river ward x fem! v

summary: river decides he's finally had enough of the office, and decides to invite you over for a much needed break ;) an- i've literally been working on this for like. a fucking month by now lmao. anyway enjoy. will be posting more in the future warnings- smut (18+ mdni), soft dom river, sub!v, oral (f receiving) public s3x (whoops) , creampie, f!ngering, mild degradation, you are both horny gonks who desperately deserve a break, johnny is being annoying again

wc: 8k??? holy shit me wtf

In the darkness of his office, surrounded by stacks of paperwork and casefiles, all River Ward can bring himself to think about is you. 

The room is silent save for the endless droning of the ceiling fan above, and the distant hum of the city beyond. The dim, flickering fluorescent lights cast long shadows that dance like phantoms, wrapping the room in an eerie solitude. Outside the office window, the neon lights of Night City painted a vibrant tapestry of chaos upon the lonely walls. Piles of unsolved mysteries loomed around him, their weight pressing down on his weary shoulders. 

River Ward sits in front of his computer, hands poised on the keyboard. All he can do is mindlessly stare at the open file on the bright screen before him.  He can’t focus like this.  

He can’t stop thinking about you. 

Truth is, River just misses you. He yearns for you like a junkie craves a fucking boost. The demands of his work as a private investigator in Night City have become a never-ending fucking acid trip, a labyrinth of dead-end leads, and goddamn conspiracy theories that seem to lead to jack shit.

It’s been a long fucking couple of weeks.

Sure, he knew becoming a private investigator in N.C. was no easy task—it’s what he’s signed up for, after all. But by fuck, he’s drowning in his work with little resolve. River can’t really complain about the pay, either. He’s actually starting out not-so bad— but fuck, he’s always busy. And when you live in a world where there’s a literal ticking time bomb in your girlfriend’s head, ready to go off at any moment, the last thing you wanna be is fucking busy. The demands of his work feel like a fucking all-consuming whirlwind, a never-ending shitstorm of new info that all leads to buttfuck nowhere. And worst of all, he just wants to be home with you, enjoying the little time you guys have left together. 

He aches for the way he’s able to pull you in his big arms, missing the way you always get on your tippy-toes to reach in for a kiss, having to reach up for him just to reach his lips. What he truly craves more than anything else in the world is your presence— your infectious goddamn smile, your  laughter, your soft and tender touch. But he can’t go anywhere. Not till he makes a break in the case, at least. 

River's fingers hover over the keyboard, but as he tries to focus, the words blur into a goddamn kaleidoscope of nonsense. His work, his responsibilities—it all fades into the background, overshadowed by the overpowering sense of longing. He shifts his gaze from the computer to the neon-drenched shitshow beyond the window, the vibrant chaos of Night City. As he thinks of you, a goddamn tidal wave of longing washes over him, drowning out the relentless work-related bullshit that usually occupies his mind. 

But fuck, as much as he tries to be respectful, he just also really misses fucking you. It drives him insane how easily you submit to him whenever you’re stuffed with his huge dick. River’s just enamored by your sweet, soft little muffled cries of pure pleasure while he overtakes your deadly cunt. He loves the way your shoulders tense up when he hits particularly deep, loves the way your little face twists and contorts with sheer pleasure, all weakened and already fucked out within minutes of him shoving himself in.. 

Shit. He can't take it anymore. The case can wait. He wants you, and he wants you now. No use heading home now, right? 

It’s fuckin’ late, well past 12 AM.

…but it’s also when you happen to be out you’re usually out and about after a gig. 

Why not give it a shot? 

River’s heart aches a little as he pulls up your contact over the holo. He just really, really fucking misses you, and internally prays that you’ll pick up, even if just to hear the sound of voice for a little while. He just craves any semblance of you. With an unsteady breath, he finally calls. 

The eerie ringing of the holodex against the silence of the night’s air was deafening. His chest raises, heart pounding, desperately hoping you’ll pick up. 

But then, the call finally connects, and you’re greeting him with the biggest, most mischievous grin on your face. Fuck, hes glad you answered. “Shit, was just aboutta’ text you, you know. Been missing you, Detective..”

River's lips curl into a smile he couldn't hold back—relief washing over him at the sound of your voice. Hearing you admit that you missed him too made him damn-near light headed. He takes a steady, deep breath to prepare himself before he speaks.

“Been missing you more than just words can say, V," he finally replies, his voice laced with a blend of longing and affection. "I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you, you know. It's been... tough here without you lately. Still at the fuckin’ office, too..”

You can distinctively sense River’s distress, he looks exhausted, and you can’t help but to feel the pang of longing that fills your heart. You really did miss him too. But turns out River was right— you were actually out and about on one of your little hot-shot missions, and it so happened you were closeby. Your honest, original plan was to just catch up with your boyfriend, maybe stop by his place if he so happened to be up. 

 “You know what, River?" You reply, voice tone a mix of playfulness and genuine concern. "I've got news that might make your night a whole lot better.” 

Well shit, now you’ve got him reeled in. “Was actually gonna ask you if I could stop by— Jus’ finished a gig not far from your place. Been thinkin’ about you a lot lately, Riv.” 

Oh, fuck. What were the odds? 

His heart starts to jump in his chest. 

“I’m at the office right now,” He breathes quickly, voice dropping an octave as he whispers into the holo.“Would really love it if you wanna stop by..” He just sounds so fuckin’ soft, so needy, your heart melts a little bit. 

“Be there in five, Detective.”

“Preem,” he smiles. “See ya then, V.” 

When you walk through the door, River’s weary gaze shoots up from the mountains of papers scattered casefiles on his desk. His mechanical eye flickers a shade brighter— and he’s beaming. Fuck, he’s glad you showed. To him, you merged like an ephemeral beacon. His weary gaze, burdened by the weight of investigations, was abruptly lifted as it collided with your presence. 

Before you had entered, the  room was cast in an eerie quietness, illuminated solely by a dim desk lamp that struggled to push back the encroaching shadows. Beyond the window, the vibrant neons of the city painted a fractured mosaic on the walls, offering a glimpse of the relentless nightlife far below. 

It felt kind of… lonely, almost. A heavy quietness hung in the air, broken only by the distant hum of the city, reminding River of the isolation that often accompanied his late-night work. Regardless, you skillfully navigate the precarious stacks of paperwork strewn like toppled skyscrapers across the floor to your boyfriend. 

"V," he breathed, his voice a low rasp of longing, "you have no idea how good it is to see you right now.” 

Before you could make it into his arms, your digital companion materializes before you, the air around him fracturing into millions of tiny blue shards, peering over River’s shoulder, aviators raised downwards. 

“Things are lookin’ rough for Detective Dumbass,” he pauses, looking back up to you, a smug grin plastered across his face. “…Looks like there’s something other than work on his mind. Better come let your dog off the leash before he snaps.”

You internally groan. And so it begins. You shoot Johnny a look— before you turn back to River. 

“Guess I can say the same to you, Riv..” You sigh with a smile, reaching out to tenderly touch his arm. “Can’t stop thinking about you, you know. S’ been a while since I saw you..”

“I know,” River whispers, his heart when you wrap your arms tight around his waist, resting your head against his chest. Your hearts beat in tandem, a silent symphony of love rekindled.  “Couldn’t be without you for a second longer if I tried, V..think I would’ve finally lost it.”

You can hear it in his voice— he’s tired. Exhausted. 

So you decide to give your detective a moment of reprise amidst the chaos. Fuck it, you’ll be the first one admit it— you’re desperate too. You haven’t seen River in god knows how fucking long. Haven’t felt his skin against yours in ages. 

“Well, I’m here now, Detective Ward...” you whisper, tracing your index finger along his chiseled jawline, down his chest, down to the loops of his belt. “Why don’t you show me just how much you’ve missed me, then?” 

But regardless, your words carved through a path of intimacy that ignited a smoldering, burning fire. You swore mechanical eye shimmered with newfound brilliance. And in response to your playful assertion, his lips curved into a smile as radiant as the moonlight over the city's nocturnal canvas.

 “Be glad to, little merc.”

Oh shit, you hadn’t heard that little nickname in a while. But fuck, how you love when he calls you that. With little patience remaining within you, you finally crash your lips against his, and he borderline whimpers into your mouth, hands grabbing your ass as leverage to hold your shorter frame up into him. 

The sensation of his lips against yours feels borderline intoxicating. Everything about him drives you absolutely fucking insane— his mouth crashes against yours, letting out a little low groan into your mouth. You can’t help the way his excited eagerness sends little heatwaves down to your core. In that suspended moment, the world outside vanished into obscurity, all that mattered was him. 

But River pulls away, and your lips finally part. It seems like all time stops around you when you gaze into each other's eyes, your heavy, needy breaths rising and falling together in sync amidst the quiet of his office. 

“You know, V..” River whispers real low, finally breaking the moment of prolonged silence. “I’ve missed you so fuckin’ much. Missed everything about you. Can’t focus… can’t do nothin’ right now.”

Oh, you absolutely know what he’s getting at. 

But then, the familiar materialization of blue pixels flashes before you, digital companion appearing before your very eyes, leaning against the door frame. You can’t help but to internally groan— not again. Always picking the worst times to interject. 

“Told you so, dipshit. Detective’s sniffin’ around for more…”

Before you can snap back, he’s gone. 

Ugh. 

The remnants of your playful distraction lingers like a promise in the air, your fingers tapping along River’s beefy arm. “Soooo, River? Gonna ask me to help you out?”

Steady heavy hands grab at your hips, holding you into place. River leans down to your ear, his voice a salacious whisper; an uncharacteristically animalistic growl leaving him as he leans in close. 

“I’ll fuck you right here, right now, if you’ll let me, V…” he pauses, steely gaze meeting yours. “That’s how much I missed you.”

Oh, shit. 

It didn’t even cross your mind that he would ever actually wanna fuck in his own goddamn office. Your heart begins to pound in your chest. 

You’re Night City’s most dangerous merc— and he’s a fucking up-and-running detective, one whose job is made harder by people like you every day— your relationship defies any and all odds, but by Christ, you can’t deny that offer. Not when you crave him oh-so-desperately, not when he’s towering above you, peering down at you like you’re about to become his next meal.

Your breath catches in your throat immediately, his words sending a euphoric shockwave of lust to your core. Rationally, it’s a terrible fucking idea, kinda a public misdemeanor, and just borderline nasty. Sure, it’s late as hell, but River’s office isn’t the only damn one in his building. Getting caught is the last thing either of you need right now, but fuck, you both need eachother like you need oxygen. Neither of you want to hold back.  

Truth be told, you’d give anything to be fucked right here and now. This was a side of River Ward you’ve never really seen before— and you’re here for it. 

“Huh,” Johnny appears in your line of vision—lighting up a conjured cigarette from the depths of your imagination. He takes a long drag before exhaling,  the digital smoke dancing in the dim lighting around you. “…Didn’t actually think he had it in him to do that type of shit.”

You don’t even hear Johnny at this point. You completely push him aside. 

“Here? In your office?” You repeat, a sly, shit-eating grin stretching across your face. “Isn’t that a lil risky, Detective Ward?” 

River’s staring down at you like you’re about to become his dinner, both his dark amber eye and white mechanical one bearing into yours in anticipation of your answer. You’ve never seen him so… feral. You’re almost intimidated. 

“Don’t start, V..” He growls, the warmth of his ‘ganic hand brushes tenderly against your cheek, before he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “…Risky isn’t something that’s bothered you before, has it now, little merc?” 

So of course, you feed into him. You know how to play him better than he can play himself. Your hands reach down to his chest, slowly down to the loops of his belt. You give it a weak little tug, all whilst maintaining eye contact. Innocently, you look up at him, batting your eyelashes— then you shake your head. “Never has, never will, Detective Ward.” 

He can’t deny that, can’t deny you— not when you look at him like that. “That’s what I thought,” A wild grin stretches across his face—his usual soft demeanor now completely thrown out the window. He presses a brief, sloppy kiss to your lips before pulling away. 

 “Keep at it, then. See if you can handle me.”

There’s something about the way he delivers the words that makes you tremble, like prey standing helplessly before its predator. River doesn’t stop there—he growls; dragging his lips to your neck; trailing sloppy bites, spattering blues and purple marks. Before you can miss the heat of his hands they’re back on your waist, slowly just trailing down your sides. River’s hands are fucking huge— able to cover you almost entirely, and it makes you shudder a little. Sure, you’re dangerous enough, could easily handle him in a fight, but sometimes you felt like River could really snap you in half if he really wanted to. 

His fingers travel underneath the hemline of your shirt, caressing against your bare skin. His ganic’ hand against you is so warm, almost burning against your skin, while his damn-near freezing metal hand makes you shudder. It’s a familiar balancing of the two sensations that you hold so so dear, and your appreciation for the feeling only amplifies  when they slide underneath your bra. 

River stops in his tracks hands rising to grasp at your chest, squeezing your sensitive nipples for just a second, and you fucking whimper. This time, he offers you some reprise— and finally tugs both your shirt and your bra off of you, leaving you exposed to the cool air of his office. 

River swore your body was a fucking work of art, dimly-lit curves protruding through the darkness of the office, your hard nipples perking up at the coolness surrounding you. You look so cute when you shiver just a teeny bit when his thumb runs over your nipple. River smiles dumbly at you, a breathy little chuckle escaping him. 

“Best merc in all of Night City…” His deft fingertips move towards the waistband of your shorts, tearing them off of you as if they were nothing before stopping abruptly to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. “…And I’m about to fuck her stupid.”

You shiver a little at his words— your cheeks heating up, a familiar burn rising in your lower stomach. And before you can even respond, River’s pushing everything on his desk to the side, sending stacks of paper cascading to the floor, and he’s grabbing your ass again, lifting you up to rest your ass against the cool metal of the desk. 

River lowers himself to your ear— his voice real low. “Gonna take care of you now, pretty girl.” 

His big hands reach for your panties, deftly  tearing them down to your thighs. The air in the office is cool, and you shudder when his warm palms spread your thighs apart. Rough, calloused fingers inch between your legs to your glistening cunt, spreading your folds and slipping his digits into the wetness of your slit, moving up and down, collecting your slick with each little passing movement.

You can’t help the helpless curse that escapes your lips when his thumb slides across your wetness, before pressing it so softly over your now-exposed clit. You reel back with a desperate moan— and you begin to throb. Fuck. Shit. You feel so vulnerable and desperate, your thighs spread open for him on top of his desk, just waiting for his next move as he stares down at you with hunger shining in his eyes. 

River’s literally rock hard at this point, literally aching to be inside of you, but shit, you just look soo soo cute already, and you’re just so fucking needy for him. And all he had to do was call for you. 

River leans down to your level, taking the sensitive bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue around against it, before switching to a soft suckling. His touch is tender— gentle, 

and sends little jolts of lust down your spine.  “F—Feels good…” you whimper weakly. 

He pulls away when you wiggle against him, a string of saliva connecting your nipple to his lips. You exhale deeply, eyebrows knitting together as your hips arch up a little— but you’re growing impatient again. You want, no, you need, more of him. Your core’s literally on fire. You swear, your mind is beginning to fog with nothing but the thought of his dick. You’re just so fucking horny— and he’s refusing to give you what you want. 

You’re about to beg him for more again— but before you can, his hands are on your hips, pulling you towards the edge of the desk so your legs drape off almost entirely. You know what River is about to do when he settles down on his knees between your thighs, his gigantic hands coming up to press them apart against the cool metal. 

River can't help but to stop dead in his tracks for a second to stare at your cute pussy glistening so heavenly in the dim light of his office. Man, it made his night at work actually totally fucking worth it. He was so grateful for his pretty merc, so grateful you allow him to delve between your thighs after a hard day. 

But the way he’s staring down at you sends literal goosebumps across your skin, he’s just enjoying the view for juuuuusstt a second. He can’t help but to admire your glistening cunt— you’re just too damn pretty. 

“Missed this preem pussy of yours, baby…” He sighs against you. “Can’t ever get enough.”

But you’re growing fucking impatient, the way he’s staring at you makes your insides burn and your pretty pussy drips eeeveen more against his desk.  “Stop starin’, hurry up…” 

“Nah,” he laughs. “Wanna enjoy the view first.” He's grinning as he parts your sticky folds with his thumb, rubbing tenderly at your clit with his thumb. 

Your lips immediately fall open with a moan— his breath hot against your throbbing cunt as he gives you the attention you needed for so fucking long. 

He moves up, and this time, he flattens his rough tongue to your dripping slit, sliding all the way up from your drenched hole, excruciatingly slow. Then, as if you weren’t already struggling to keep yourself under control, He folds his tongue up against your puffy clit, looking you dead in the eye. 

And you can’t take it. 

You shiver underneath him, cheeks flushing as you turn your head away to avoid his gaze. But oh, he knows how much he’s embarrassing you, and he loves it. He pulls away from your sopping cunt, his voice switching to a soft coo. “Awww, baby…” He pulls away from you. “Can you look at me, lil’ merc?”

He almost loses it when you peer down him with that cute, innocent gaze of yours when you each for his beefy shoulders, trying so hard to stop your thighs from squeezing around him as he starts slurping at your aching bud. “Good girl… Always followin’ orders..”

You whimper soft curses into the night’s air, his name leaves your lips, and River perks up— letting out a little pleased hum against you. Then, he wraps his beefy ganic’ arm around your hips, holding you close to him as his cold metal fingers brush against your wetness, before sliding into your tight hole. 

A jolt is ripped through you, a whine escapes your lips at the sudden intrusion. You can feel the way his fingers stretch you out with such ease— they’re fucking thick, and long— they reach so so deep inside of you. “Y—You’re reachin’ deep, Riv...” A filthy moan falls from your parted lips. 

And he grins, tapping his fingers faster against your sopping walls. “You’re so fucking needy— s’ cute,” River chuckles.  “You’re just as bad as I am..” he whispers, and begins to drive his digits in and out of your sloppy cunt. Immediately, your back arches— and within seconds, he’s ripping desperate little whimpers from your throat as he renders you fucked dumb with his fingers alone. 

You sob out a little curse—using what little strength you had left from the day to squeeze your thighs around his head. He’s filling you nearly full again, your tightness constricting around his single digit. 

Instead of pushing your thighs away, he embraces it, siding his free hand underneath your ass to guide your tired hips as he presses a sloppy wet kiss to your aching bud, slipping in another finger. This time, you cry out— and you buck your needy hips against his face. 

“Careful now,” River warns, tightening his strong grip on your hips, actually holding your hips down now, “Be nice, baby…” he mumbles between your thighs, growling against your pussy. “Tough it out fr’ me and stay still.”

A little twinge of embarrassment runs down your spine. You truly cannot help it. “Y—Yes sir…” you absent-mindedly moan.  You're barely holding it together. 

“Sir?” River repeats, big fingers are drilling in and out of you, stretching you just so perfectly. “Is that what you’re calling me now?” His digits tap soo deeply inside of you, fucking you harder and deeper than your own ever possibly could.

“Look at you, V… you’re fuckin’ desperate fr’ me. Turned you into my whore again real quick.”

 His words make you fucking throb— and you can’t do anything but whimper incoherent little cries of pure humiliation, and you try to bury your face in your hands as your cheeks burn.  

Your boyfriend, however, immediately catches on to your embarrassmenf. River’s voice lowers to a soft coo—“Didn’t tell you to stop callin’ me that, now did I?” he pulls away from your hole for just a quick second— ceasing his abuse to give your clit a quick little kiss of appreciation, eyes looking up at you as if you were his fucking universe. “Keep at it, lil’ merc. Doin’ sooo good for me.”

And then he begins again, sucking and licking at your poor clit. God, you love him. You’ve always lost your fucking mind whenever River stuffed his big fingers inside of you, it just feels so good. 

Even worse, he’s literally moaning against you, sending little vibrations throughout you. It’s far too much, he’s soo mean, but you couldn’t possibly get enough of the euphoria he’s giving you— you feel like you’re fucking drowning. 

You want to buck your hips against him so so badly, but you know fighting is futile at this point. So, your tired thighs begin to shake beneath him, your drippy pussy already beginning to throb in anticipation of an incoming orgasm. You’re fucked. 

“River— Detective— Sir…” you choke out. “M’gonna… gonna cum.”

He can feel the way your thighs tighten around him, the way your sharp nails start to dig and scratch into his big shoulders. Your cute sloppy cunt is starting to twitch and pulse beneath his licks, and your pretty face starts to twist in pure euphoric bliss. River hums against you, a pussy-drunk grin plastered on his face. He knows you’re gonna cum, and he’s being damn-smug about it. 

But oh, he can’t take it. You feel the coolness of his metal hand against your ass, and before you feel inclined to face him, you hear the telltale “ziiip!” and shuffling of fabric as he pulls down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his throbbing, rock-hard cock with one hand, running his ganic hand up and down against his hard shaft. Anything to keep those thoughts of fucking you at bay (for now). 

He’s so fucking mean with the way he’s eating you out, overstimulainng your already sensitive cunt hard. No matter how hard your shaky thighs try to squeeze around his head, he just keeps sucking your clit, shoving his thick fingers in and out of you as your stomach coils and your cunt throbs. You’re cumming. And you can’t help it anymore. 

You’re well-past the point of giving a fuck about how loud you were being. You lose yourself, then. “Give it to me, V,” he groans against you, and his name falls from your lips like a prayer— a mantra. You’re keening into sweet “ah-ah-ah’s” as he slurps at your cunt, repeatedly tapping his big, thick metal fingers inside of you, devouring you whole. 

River’s heart flutters in his chest when he feels your legs begin to shake in his rough grasp as you finally gush all over him. He can’t decide whether to focus on your fucked-out face, looking all cute with your saliva-coated lips forced ajar, your eyes all glossy— or your destroyed, soaked, puffy cunt. 

“Love my messy lil’ merc..” He coos softly in your ear. “Got no idea how proud I am, pretty girl...”

Your cunt squelches and drips onto the desk everytime he pulls his cool metal fingers in and out— fucking you through your explosive orgasm, and you’re just whimpering and moaning so fucking much. He’s forcing electrical shocks down your tired body as he renders you destroyed with his tongue alone. 

But oh, you ache for the way his throbbing cock splits you in two, you miss his little whimpers and groans when your tight, sloppy pussy hugs him tight. 

And suddenly, you’re overcome with the desire for more. 

River continues pumping his veiny shaft in tandem with the thrusts of his fingers as little moans fall from both of you. You squeal when his harsh licks become too much for your overstimulated pussy, yanking your thighs away from his head. 

He stops immediately—pulling himself away from you,  and looks back up at you with his entrancing white mechanical eye with such genuine concern, eyebrows raising as he stares up at you. “You okay, baby?” 

You pant— breaths heaving from your chest, and River rests his head against your plush thighs, looking up at you with concern. You sit there for a minute, panting. Your pussy pulsates and throbs beneath you, and you’re completely and utterly overwhelmed already. But fuck, there’s something else inside of you— and it wants more. No, you need more of him. You ache for his cock. 

You collect yourself— you want him now. “Y—Yeah, m’fine…” you pant. “…Want you to fuck me now, Riv… please,” you pant. 

River grins— a little pleased hum falling from his lips as he presses a little soft kiss to your thigh. “You sure, V?”

“Please, sir…” you whine, wiggling your hips. You truly, genuinely swear you need him inside of you at this point. 

“That’s all you needed to say,” he whispers. With little warning, his metal hand gives your ass a slap, your body jolting with a nasty moan. “Breathe deep for me an’ stay still.”

You just can’t help but to follow his command, allowing yourself to take a deep breath in, bracing yourself against the desk. River’s cock is literally throbbing. He’s been aching to be inside of you since the moment you fuckin’ walked in. He slides his thick cock against against your slick, soaked folds up against your sore, aching clit. He chuckles when you let out a little whimper. But truth is, he’s just as down bad. You’re so fucking wet, so warm— he needs you now. 

You feel his tip prod at your hole again— but this time he’s pressing deeper and he’s giving into what you both want.

Your chest heaves and struggles for air as your glossy eyes stare back into his, whimpering so so softly as River gently begins to roll his hips, the tip of his cock nudging at your slit with each slide up, his ganic’ hand resting on your lower tummy to press down, while his metal hand slides up your body to press against your throat.

River’s thickness slides all the way into you until he finally bottoms out. Your mouth falls agape as he knocks the wind from your lungs. He’s fucking big. Thick. Hard. His eyes hungrily trace over your body; observing how your chest rose and fell, your scarred body shaking in his arms; legs trembling as you struggle to take him fully.

And although this definitely isn’t your first time, you briefly struggle to handle his size, and it even aches a little. It’s been too fucking long since he’s filled you like this, and you both know it. “Forgot how—forgot how big you are..” you breathe. 

River, on the other hand, is in heaven. 

You’re literally dripping around him, hole clenching tight around him as his cock struggles to stay still inside of you. His big, beefy arms come down besides you— pinning you down to the desk. “You’re so tight, V. Haven’t been stretched out good in a while, huh?”

You shake your head. His cockhead is literally nudging at your cervix, and it’s making you feel dizzy and lightheaded. You feel… good. 

“Think you can handle this dick?” he smiles, and you nod, your eyes fluttering open as 

River’s metal hand wraps around the back of your neck, his fingers coldly pressing up against the sides of your throat as he squeezes. 

“Yes, sir!” you cry out hoarsely. The feeling of his firm fingers pressed firmly against your throat makes you fucking weak— causes you to get eeeeven wetter, and even more fucking desperate for him. 

River is letting out low groans that echoes within the quietness of the room as his hard cock delves into you. He just can’t help himself— his lil merc’s pussy takes him too fucking good, and he can’t help the way his hips rentlessly slam into you.

He’s ripping pathetic, high-pitched whines and whimpers from your lips, loving the way your smaller hands hands grab at his shoulders for dear-fucking-life as he fills you to the very brim, the tip of his leaky cock pressing agaisnt your cervix. It feels… amazing. You can’t help but to be vocal—River’s cock always stretches you out so so fucking well, and there’s even a little ache from the way he stuffs you completely full over and over again, slamming you into the desk with little remorse, just using you like a fucking toy. You’re trying sooooo hard to compose yourself, to keep yourself from sobbing and clawing at him. But oh, you’re such a terrible liar, you’re enjoying him sooo much. 

His dick is literally rock-hard, even beginning to tremble a little bit inside of you, and he has to force his hips to stop. He takes a shaky breath, a low groan falling from his lips, and you can’t help but to just stare at him, his eyed half-lidded, mechanical one dimming softly against the darkness. He’s soooo needy and it's just straight up adorable. He’s literally aching to fuck you stupid, it fucking kills you. But god, it’s just the perfect opportunity to tease him a little bit.

A little smug grin forms across your lips as an idea pops into mind. Ever-so-slowly, you begin to move and grin your roll hips back against River’s, fucking yourself back into him the best you possibly could given his huge size. “Thinka— ah—Think you can handle me, Detective?” 

But River’s not having it tonight. Not about to handle shit from his dangerous little doll, not about to let you, the most dangerous merc in Night City, win this one. His hips snap to yours viciously, pulling his thick cock all the way out before pumping it back up to you full-force, filling you to the literal brim over and over again. “Don’t start shit with me now, baby,” River growls. “You were doing sooo well— was bein’ such a good little merc for me..” he coos. 

River’s hand grabs at your hips again and forces hard hits into you. It’s far too much for your little mind to handle, but by god, you loved it.  River can’t get enough of the way your nails dig into his back, the way your legs kick out over and over from underneath him as you struggle to bring yourself to form words. “S—Sorry, Detective Ward..” you sob 

He peels himself off of you, bracing himself internally as his hands move to pry your legs apart as he forces himself even deeper. River’s voice is a deep growl, as if encouraging you to acknowledge the mess he’s making between your thighs. “Guess we know not to talk back now, huh baby?” 

River grins when you cry out little “uh huhs” and hips begin to ram into your ass, big hands digging into your hips for leverage. With each thrust, he’s knocking the air out of your lungs, forcing literal jolts of pleasure to fire from synapses.

Through the tiniest, weakest gasps, and through the soft, wet sounds of River fucking himself into your dripping pussy, you feel like you’ve already been broken in at this point. Purely fucked stupid. Your brain’s beginning to feel like it’s short-circuiting, your core’s on fucking fire. 

You’re totally unaware of yourself at this point as he slams against your ass, uncaring as you let desperate, depraved whiny moans escape your lips. You sound filthy— you no longer care about getting caught, the only thing on your mind is him. Your pussy squelches against the quietness of the office, your nasty moans bouncing off of the walls. All you can do is hiccup little “thankyouthankyouthankyou!!’s” as River stuffs you full, and he loves it. 

“There you go, V. Good girl, givin’ in….finally.”

A gasp escapes you, your pussy clamping down on him as you nod over and over again. But he can’t help but to give you a little chuckle as his ganic hand wraps around the your throat juuuusssttt enough to squeeze a little. And oh, just like that, he’s entirely set you off. Within minutes, he’s fucked the most dangerous merc in Night City into submission. What a fuckin’ achievement that one is. 

You’re so so out of it, mind dumb from the combined pain and pleasure. the wetness of your cunt squelches and drips whenever he pulls out his cock to fuck it deeper. Your slick even drips down his balls— and it drives him fucking crazy.  River is ripping sobs and little hiccups  of pleasure from your throat as he angles his cock deep inside, almost folding you in half, your knees wrapped right around his back to hold him deeper. But fuck, he’s getting loud too. You both are. 

You’re fucked out by your pretty cop boyfriend. You. The most dangerous merc around. It’s a funny fucking thought, almost. Johnny’s gonna lose his shit again after this, but your head is literally spinning, your thighs beginning to tremble against River’s mean thrusts. You feel drunk off of him, and your pussy literally trembles whenever he looks you dead in the eyes as he fucks the life outta you.

 You swear your system is genuinely being overloaded by sheer fucking pleasure. Jolts of electrical euphoria slide down to your best spots over and over again. But there’s a creeping, burning feeling burning up within you, and your body seizes. 

Fuck. You’re already close. Like the obedient merc you are, you warn your detective, even as tears of dumbfound pleasure slide down to your cheeks, even as you struggle to let the words fall from your lips. “C—Close!!” you hiccup. 

“Already, baby? Finishing up so soon?” River teases, and he can’t help but to stare down at you at the absolute, utter enchanting way tears begin to spill from the corners of your eyelids as you try so fucking hard to hold your orgasm back for him, to not let it overtake you even when your tummy coils and you’re forced to heave out your little breaths and moans as he literally fucks the air from your lungs. 

“Riiiivvvvv…” you whine, half-kisses eyes

closing. “Jus.. jus’ lemme finish..”

He can feel the way your juicy pussy attempts to milk him dry, the way your entire whole body shivers and trembles beneath him. River presses a little kiss to your forehead, still driving his hips into yours. “Hang on a little while longer for me, yeah?”

River swears, you look fucking adorable. All spread out beneath him on his desk, your nails desperately scratching at his bare back while you try to wrap your legs around his waist. Your eyes are tear-filled and glazed over— your mouth slightly agape. He’s grunting, panting— River feels every little contraction and pulse of your tight cunt around his thick, veiny cock.  can’t hold back for any longer— he needs you to finish.You’re trying sooo hard to hold yourself back, and fuck, it’s adorable—he can’t help but just to tease you a little. 

River hunches over you, getting real close in between his ruthless thrusts and little groans of pleasure, his voice is hoarse— low, as if he’s struggling to keep himself together. 

“Ask nicely, V.”

A twinge of embarrassment shoots down to your core at his filthy demand. At this point, you know you’ve got no choice but to obey. You open your mouth, and let the sinful, filthy words you know he wants to hear slide from your lips, and you sure as hell can’t tell whether you love it or hate him for it. 

 “Please let me cum, Detective,” you whine, your chest beginning to heave as you struggle to hold yourself back from releasing just yet. It’s fucking almost painful the way you’d body convulses and just seizes; he’s just giving you too much pleasure.  “Been s—soo good for you… been takin’ alla you so well…” You babble out, the first tears of pleasure beginning to slide down your puffy cheeks. 

 “I want you, River. Need you now. Need this. Please, just let me—please…” you beg. And River finally gives in, leaning down to press a little kiss to your forehead whilst in the middle of absolutely destroying you. 

And oh, River Ward just couldn’t get enough. 

A little smirk of satisfaction spreads across his face at your debauched little begs. River was always so proud whenever he got to make his lil merc finish— and just fucking looved to hear you beg beneath him. 

“Go ahead, little mercenary, you can cum for me,” River growls, relishing in the way your pussy tightens when he growls deeply in your ear. “N’ don’t hold back on me, sweetheart.”

So you finally heed his command, and finally let go of the insane amount of tension building up within your stomach. Within seconds, you’re gushing against him, pussy constricting impossibly tightly around his dick, and your entire body jolts— your back arches entirely off of the desk as your jaw goes entirely slack. You’re genuinely not able to talk, you’re too fucking absorbed in able to letting the crashing euphoria overtake you. 

“O-Oh, Fuu—ckkk…” River groans, his voice cracking so subtly sweet as he struggles to chase his own orgasm. You’re literally milking him for all he’s worth— and it’s been too long, he’s literally aching to cum, and you know it too. 

You’ve got him whimpering, his head is thrown fowards as he fucks you through his own orgasm. Through your half-lidded eyes, you watch your beloved detective. “Cum inside… please, Riv. N—Need it,” you cry out. 

River chuckles—his  thrusts are animalistic— borderline furious as he drives his hips into yours. “Remember, you asked for it, little mercenary…”

You literally can only watch when River rocks his hips back and forth into you, as if testing how deep he’s claimed his deadly merc. But even with a muddled mind and blurry eyes, even as your sweet detective boyfriend roughly grasps onto the meat of your thigh hard enough to bruise, you notice his hips beginning to falter, slow down, his own thighs beginning to tremble. 

You genuinely swear you catch his eyes rolling back for just a second.

“Fill… me… up,” you pant, and as if on cue, hips finally stop as he presses his weight onto you with a groan— and pushes himself as deep as possible, filling you up to the brim before he shoots velvety ropes inside, pumping you full of of his hot cum.  “Fuck—fuckfuckfuckfuck…” 

It’s just been so so long since’s he’s felt your warm,  pretty pussy clench around him, and he’s thrown over the fucking edge. He can’t bring himself to pull out, not like this, he just needs to enjoy the feeling of you milking him of all he’s worth, he needs you to take every single drop. It’s just been far too long since he’s last felt you like this. Around his trembling, aching dick, you clamp and squeeze against him in like a fucking godsend. He can’t get enough of your pretty pussy dripping all over him, letting him pump your pretty pussy full of his cum. 

You look utterly etheral in the dim glow of his office, naked, fucked-out, panting and heaving with tears of pure, dumb-founded pleasure running down your cheeks from the orgasm he genuinely ripped out of you after sooo long. 

You both sit still, quivering and shaking as you pant and struggle to breathe as you come down from your respective highs. 

Your eyes flutter open when he pulls out of you, a trail of cum sliding from your abused hole down to your ass. His calloused fingers cup your chin so so gently as he slides his overwhelmed cock against your soaked folds, still trying to savor your juices while he still could. 

Another moment of silence passes between you as you sit still for a minute, all spread out and panting. 

“Need you to look at me, V…” he pants, a dumbstruck little smile spreading across his face when you tilt your timid gaze up to meet his, your eyes fluttering open. The pad of his thumb slides across your cheek— and your heart burns with love at his gentle touch. “Thank you,” he breathes, voice shallow, chest heaving a little. “I… I needed that.” 

River's strong hands find their way to your waist, pulling you impossibly close until there was no space left to bridge. You willingly slump against him, finding solace in his warm embrace. 

"I know you did," you reply with a weak smile, your voice reduced to a meek whisper. With a shaky hand, you cup his jaw, your touch conveying more love and appreciation than your words ever could. "I needed that, too."

As you both lay entangled in each other's arms, the dim office around you seemed to fade away. The quiet hum of the city and the eerie darkness disappeared, replaced by the warmth of your long-awaited embrace. In the daring midst of Night City's chaos, you and River had finally reached a moment of peace and solace in each other's arms.

A lingering moment of silence passes, and River finally speaks, his voice raspy and exhausted. "V, let's go home. Can’t fuckin’ stand this office anymore..” he sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling back to gaze longingly into your eyes.

You meet his steely gaze,  your eyes locking with his. “Mhm... was thinkin’ the same thing," you replied with a knowing smile.

River’s strong, reassuring hands lift you off of his lap. With the most gentle and softest of touches, River helps you dress, sliding your clothes back onto your exhausted body. The moment is intimate—filled with an unspoken affection that neither of you dared to disturb. 

….Except for Johnny. 

Your digital companion strikes again, ashing out his cigarette against the concrete.

 “Well… guess the star-crossed lovers are finally on their way out. Enjoy this while you can, V— ain’t gonna last.”

You can’t bring yourself to bitch back right now— the moment between you and River is just too perfect, so you just mentally shrug off Johnny's caustic remark. You knew him well enough to understand that, beneath his shitty cynical exterior, he harbored some form of care for you. 

Johnny's holographic form appeared, leaning against a digital wall as he continued his tirade."I've seen a lot of 'em come and go, these star-crossed lovers," he spits, his tone still dripping with sarcasm. "But you, V, you always manage to surprise me. Guess I should be happy you found someone like River to put up with your crazy ass."

You can’t help but to laugh inwardly, your thoughts projecting to Johnny, "Well, aren't you just a bucket of sunshine today? You know what they say, Johnny, love makes the world go 'round."

He snortes, his cyber visage maintaining its cool composure. "Yeah, love. The most preem emotion in the 'verse, huh?"

Your smirk was evident in your mental reply, "Jealous, Johnny?"

He rolled his virtual eyes, flicking his digital cigarette away. "Nah, I've had my time, V. But for your sake, I hope it lasts."

As you and River reach the exit of the office building, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment, knowing that, for now, you have found a love that was worth cherishing, no matter what Johnny or Night City throws your way.

Hand in hand, you and River leave the office behind, heading toward the sanctuary of your shared world—where your love could flourish and bring you the peace you both desperately desired after such a long day. Home was where your hearts truly belonged, a place where you could find solace in each other's arms, where love thrived amid the bleary, unending chaos of the city around you. 

[osaemu]

could you do professor aizawa who has a student always running late to lectures and loud and annoying. And he catches her breaking the law (doing graffiti or something) and threatens to expel her but comes to a compromise and sees a different side of her? If not anything u write is amazing anyways! ❤️❤️

ミ★ who says? 🜚

pairing: aizawa x reader

summary: your reputably strict teacher catches you breaking the law – minor offense or not, who knows how he'll react?

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: no explicit romantic interest, but you can interpret it that way if you want. cursing. graffiti? mentions of illegal activities. half-baked character backstory. barely proofread.

a/n: hey anon! sorry this took a while, i just haven't really been motivated lately so um my bad! i wasn't sure if you wanted the request in a romantic way so i went the safe route, just lmk if you want me to write another one!

"what the hell are you doing?"

caught off guard by the sudden sound of a deep voice, you yelp and quickly turn around. a tall, dark figure emerges from the shadowed alley behind you, and to your dismay, it's your taciturn professor.

fuck.

"oh, hey, sir!" you say hurriedly, desperately trying to appear casual while leaning to the left a little. you attempt to hide the neon spray paint decorating the wall behind you, even though you know your efforts are futile. "...what are you doing here?"

aizawa scowls and takes a step forward, letting the flickering lamplight illuminate him. "cut the bullshit and answer the question," he says irritably. 

that would be a problem. his eyes were already trailing to the paint behind you, and the last thing you wanted to do was explain why you were in a dark alley in the middle of the night.

you should've expected that he'd be here, lurking the corners of the city like a stray cat. actually, was that a tuft of cat hair on his shoulder?

well, whether the answer was yes or no, there was certainly a scowl on your teacher's sharp features. the shadowed alley and dim lamplight further accentuate his face, and it's right then when you realize that hey, your teacher was kinda...

nope. not going there.

thankfully, aizawa didn't really give you the time to reflect on your possibly-broken brain before his narrow eyes focused on the neon scene behind you. "the hell is that?"

when you don't immediately answer, his sharp gaze lands on you. his scowl deepens before he continues "listen, i have a busy night. i can't be dealing with a student's mess right now." he nods at the graffiti behind you and wrinkles his nose slightly. "explain yourself, and make it damn quick."

fuckkk.

you knew better than to argue at this point, so out with the carefully curated story you had dreamt up the night before.

"oh, this?" you wave your hand at the graffiti. "nope, wasn't me. i stumbled upon it and i was trying to figure out who did it. you wouldn't happen to know, would you?"

well, the excuse sounded better in your head. out loud, it sounded a lot like a rather pathetic lie, despite the way you tried to turn it around on your unamused teacher at the end.

to your dismay, aizawa sighs and massages his temples with his calloused fingers before looking down at you, somehow looking even more irritated than before. "if you don't want to talk to me, you can talk to the principal instead."

oh, shit. you couldn't get in trouble again, especially for something as stupid for this. you were already on thin ice with u.a's insanely-patient staff, and even then, you didn't want to push your luck.

"ah, no, never mind!" you say quickly. despite your chronic carelessness, you were genuinely grateful that you were at u.a, and it wasn't worth jeopardizing your spot over a little fun. "i'll talk, i'll talk."

"damn right, you will," aizawa snaps, pulling a water bottle out of nowhere and opening it. "explain this," he says, waving at the graffiti before taking a sip of the water. "and cut the bullshit. straight to the point."

seeing as you have no choice, you decide to tell him half the truth. you'd rather keep the last part to yourself, and frankly, it felt plausible enough.

"it was just a dare," you mumble, carefully monitoring your expression to make the half-truth believable. "lost a bet to my roommate, and i had to do something illegal."

"you couldn't have just stolen some alcohol or something?"

"are you condoning theft and underage drinking?"

aizawa scowls again, but there's an amused undertone to the scoff he lets out a second later. "just sayin', there's plently of other illegal activities that don't involve damaging public property."

you shrug. "seemed like something memorable."

"so, you want to tell me the whole truth now?" your teacher says dryly. when you look up, surprise visible on your face, he shakes his head. "don't try to hide things from a high school teacher. i've seen it all, now spit it out."

you sigh and look away, frantically thinking about ways to squirm out of this situation. but no matter how many half-formed plans you concocted, you knew that there was no escaping an explanation.

"fuck." you didn't mean to curse out loud, but the word somehow escaped your lips. fuck.

surprsingly, your muttered curse drew out an amused half-smirk on your typically stone-faced teacher. so the way to his heart is through curse words. noted.

"watch your language," aizawa says offhandedly. his tone and body language make it clear that he's only saying that out of obligation, not because he gives a shit. "and watch the damn clock. i don't have all night. i'm a hero, for god's sake."

"oh, yeah, my bad." well, it wasn't like you had any choice at this point. 

so you reluctantly tell him about how you never really got to enjoy your elementary and middle school years because the atmosphere was so competitive. because everyone wanted to get into u.a. and even though you didn't really care as much as the others overcome by the hero-fever, you couldn't stand being the only one left out. so the years of your life where you were supposed to enjoy youth were thrown away in pursuit of a far-off success. 

it all kind of came tumbling out, one sentence after the other, and when you finish your sob story, you realize that you probably just word-vomited all over your teacher, who probably doesn't care.

what if i just die of embarrassment?

aizawa doesn't respond to your words for a heartwrenching second, and right when you're sure he won't, he speaks.

"that explains why you're so damn immature. always running late to lectures, passing notes in class, and more focused on theatrics than content, yeah?"

the words sting, and it probably shows on your face, because a second later your teacher's stern expression softens.

"could be worse," he mutters, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "c'mon, i'll walk you back to the dorms. can't have you out alone in this part of town this late."

aizawa beckons for you to follow him, and when he starts walking, you jog behind him to catch up. "wait, so am i in trouble?"

he continues walking with his hands in his pockets but looks over his shoulder at you, expression unreadable. "i won't report this to admin, so not officially. but you're in a shit-ton of trouble with me."

"watch your language," you mumble, suppressing a grin when his dark eyes narrow into a glare. "what? can't take your own advice?"

he scoffs. "watch it. i'm still your teacher."

"yes, sir."

"damn right."

the rest of the walk back to the dorms happens mostly in silence, and when you finally arrive well past midnight, he walks off without another word.

it doesn't feel right to let him leave without a thank you, so as his dark shadow blends into the night, you call "thanks! and good night!"

and maybe you imagine it, but you could've sworn that he raises his hand in a farewell gesture as he disappears into the darkness.

"so, what happened? you in trouble?" your wide-awake roommate croons, looking at you curiously. "i saw you come back with mr. aizawa – are you expelled? he does that a lot."

you pause, toothbrush halfway to your mouth. your roommate's right. aizawa does have quite the reputation for being a di- a rather harsh teacher to his students. and honestly, he had every reason to expel you, or at least threaten to tonight.

your roommate repeats your name a couple times before you zone back in and smile distractedly.

"no, you're still stuck with me," you reply, staring blankly in the mirror. 

"huh. that's weird."

yeah, it really is.

"fuck, you damned hero! keep you and your righteous head out of my damn busine-"

aizawa tightens his hold on the low-grade villain's hair and scoffs when the guy yowls in pain. "i get paid to deal with your bullshit."

"you damn heroe-"

before the villain can say the rest of his statement, aizawa jams his fist into the man's mouth and uses the other hand to call the poilce. after a brief summary of the capture, the police send a couple cars over and retrieve the villain.

aizawa watches them drive off, dark eyes tracing the cloudy horizon. his mind flickers back to earlier today, when he found one of his more... problematic students graffiting a back alley.

had it been anyone else in their place, they would've recieved a severe warning or expulsion on the spot. but, unlike what some of the kids said about him, he wasn't cruel – he was a teacher. and a damn good one at that.

most cases were solved by the simple threat of expulsion. but in cases where a threat would make things worse, sometimes letting the culprit go without an explanation worked better.

a sigh slips through aizawa's dry lips as they curl upwards into a smile. he wouldn't be so nice next time.

a/n: if you read all that, i'm sorry for the shitshow of a fic that was 😭 it's been a hot minute since i wrote for mha, and even then the plot was super rushed fjsjdjsjd

i promise my jjk and bsd writing is better check my profile i pinkie promise 🙏🙏 love u lots

if by any chance u actually liked this, reblogging would help me out of my misery thanks sm