#does mile have gag reflex?

[nattaphum]

The boys before him: *have difficulties trying to fit 1 entire cookie in their mouths*

Mile with 2 cookies:

😳

[kisakis-boyfriend]

ah i forgot sorry ♦️

Sub Boothill x Dom Top Male Reader because I am very normal about this man

Author's Note: I wanted to do HCs for this because I have some ✨ideas✨ I hope that's alright with you!

Pairings: Boothill x male reader

Sub Boothill… 🤤

Ugh, he can be such a tease. Seriously

This man knows he's attractive, he knows what his voice does to people, and he knows how to use these things to his advantage. And he does so REGULARLY

I can picture Boothill buying skimpy clothing and wearing it at random times just to rile you up

Booty shorts, thongs, crop tops. Anything that he thinks might get you going

Obviously, the cowboy enjoys riding you

His metal ass grinds down, and Boothill feels your cock reach deeper inside of him

His butt and thighs are so slap-able… alas, they are made of metal and it would hurt tremendously to slap them 😔

But you can at least still admire his booty. He looooves it when you admire any part of him, actually

Body worship is a big kink of his 👀👌

The faces Boothill makes during sex… good lord…

With those pointy teeth of his too? UGH his face is just too pretty. I cannot–

He is an absolute god when it comes to lapdances or strip teases

I need to write stripper Boothill headcannons or something 🥵

Anyways! Boothill is truly a wonderful sub all around. He's very good at following the rules and being a good boy, he's a lot of fun to play with, but he's also a great disobedient sub when you're both up for that too!

I haven't even talked about his genitals yet–

As written in the other Boothill request; I think he can use different attachments down there. He has a built-in hole, but he can switch it out with different hi-tech, fleshlight-like inserts

He can also use different dick attachments. Or, perhaps he could order something custom made? Such as a fleshlight with two holes? 👀

Basically, he can do whatever he wants down there. And/or make his partner's dreams come true

His 'cum' is artificial, but it works the same as regular semen. He can fill up a compartment with the substance and pump it through a cock attachment, or have it ooze out of any orifice

The attachments don't have any nerves until they attach to him though. Not unless you program some special ones…

So that you use one of his fleshlight inserts and it feels like he's getting fucked even though he's in the middle of combat 🥴

Give the cowboy a bj from miles away by sucking off one of his dick attachments… oouyhhdhkdjfk

On the topic of bjs, Boothill is excellent at giving you head

His gag reflex is non-existent, so you can fuck his throat all you like~

I also think he can be a bit of a size king sometimes

I want to get a massive, thick dildo and make Boothill sit on it and bounce on it until his circuits are fried 🥵

[astronomyandfrogs]

𝐍𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃.

after marc and jake rock your world in the bedroom, steven is there to cherish you. [o.7k]

tw: mentioned smut, suggestive themes.

you could still feel their heavy hands on you — slapping your ass, chocking you, groping your breast. and yet, it almost passed an hour since marc or jake touched your body.

“you feeling better, love?” steven asks “things got a tad intense there”.

“m fine” you murmur thickly, your voice low from the soreness of your throat, caused by the previous clenching of the walls around their lengths and their (mostly jake’s) need to be buried in you all the way down your throat, till your gag reflex was triggered.

now, your mascara and eyeliner are running down your cheeks, direct consequence of the previous naughty hours, which evidence can be found on the black stained pillowcase.

steven is in front of you, holding a cotton disc drenched in make up remover in one of his hands. with his free hand, he locks your chin in his hold to secure your face and delicately wipes the black traces of tears from your skin.

his touch on your face is delicate and light, this fingers even hardly brush your face, so smoothly that, with your eyes closed, they feel like gentle feathers against your sensitive skin — found and precious.

the tenderness helps your muscles to relax and you doze off, shifting time to time to an awaker state (but not quite awake yet) each time steven moves around the room.

he places his hand on your hip and squeezes it lightly. in protest, you turn on the side, hiding your face between the sheets. in cold nights like this one, laying in your bed under the duvet with your lover is your favourite hobby, but it seemed like said lover had other ideas. 

“come on, love,” steven says “there’s a warm bath ready for you”.

you smile against the white pillow. since the day you met him, steven had shown many love languages, each different and each sealed your relationship’s mile stones.

one of the first times you spent the night in his apartment, you caught him sneaking out of bed to grab a book to read, to defeat his insomnia, and under your request, he started reading it out loud. you found yourself captivated in the way the words rolled from his lips, marked by his british accent, and the way he interpreted the narrative. since that day, many times you have fallen asleep lulled by his readout.

after you moved in the apartment, he also got into the habit of keeping sugar treats in the house to satisfy your sweet tooth, expectedly during your period, were your cravings for chocolate (and every other food) increased.

your favourite however are the baths. if it’s late in the evening and the sun has already dawned, he usually puts a pair of scented candle on the surfaces to create a romantic atmosphere. then, you and him sulk in the bubbly water for whole hours till your skin is rough and thick.

which is the reason why, as steven scoops you up the bed, you smile. between his arms you are still naked, while he wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

as previously anticipated, the bathroom is enlighten only by a bunch of candles. vanilla candles, you think by the smell that inebriates you.

when he puts you down, your feet touch the cold floor and a shiver runs throw all your body. he is quick to embrace you, to share some of his warmth, while stroking his hands on your side and arms to produce heat.

“you should jump in the bath, before you catch a cold”.

“well, i sure hope i’m not taking this bath alone” you allude, and tug at his shirt. he stares at you with his big doe eyes, lost in his own thoughts — a quite common response at your flirting — and you can’t help but giggle as you lean against his chest to give him a kiss.

within the blink of an eye his shirt is gone, just like the boxers. you help each other in the tub, your legs still like jelly.

you lay on his chest and he hold your waist with one arm, while the other one is busy playing with your hair. you close your eyes, your senses intoxicated by his smell, his touch, his voice and somehow, still his taste.

[remyfire]

ooh... #2, "things you said through your teeth," or #18, "things you said when you were scared" for beejtrap?

"Things You Said" Prompts AO3 Crosspost Percy, you are feeding me so fucking well, god bless. Beejtrap my beloved!! Set in a beejtraphawk verse because I know what we're about fhkfd Things you said...through your teeth

When Trapper slams the hood of BJ's car shut, BJ is still standing off to the side, arms crossed and hip cocked out as he stares down the silent, empty road. The closest people to their current location are the ones who own a gas station about two miles behind him, and he knows this because his calves are still smarting from walking there since he's fallen behind on his jogging from how busy he's been lately. He'd remembered driving past it, remembered seeing in his rear view mirror the crudely hand-painted sign that announced they were the last station for forty miles in the other direction, remembered wondering at how such a place could stay open when there were only a couple of cars in the lot that seemed for all intents and purposes to belong to the two staff members working there. A teenaged girl blowing bubbles with her chewing gum had been behind the counter and she'd pointed to a payphone outside when BJ finally got there and inquired after it.

He'd really, really, really hoped it would be Hawkeye who answered. And it had not been, because of course not.

He's not being fair and he knows it. If his battery was gonna die in the middle of him driving home from his trip—for fuck's sake, why does this shit always happen when I'm as far away from the garage as possible?—then he should be thanking his lucky stars that anybody but Hawk was coming to his rescue. He's pretty sure that Hawk wouldn't have even been able to open the hood of their second car. But the problem with it being Trapper is that as he wipes the sweat from his brow with his forearm, something immense boils inside BJ, something that threatens to bowl him over even after all these months of sharing the same space. Something that isn't pure virulent anger. And he really can't let it continue to expand.

"You're all set." Trapper flashes a grin. "Couldn't have picked a hotter day for it to putter out, huh?"

BJ rolls his eyes and shifts his weight to his other leg. "Mm, yeah, McIntyre, I orchestrated the whole thing just to make you waste the gas."

"With all the words you're shovin' in my mouth, you're lucky my gag reflex is loosening up," he teases.

A potent cocktail mixes itself within him. Frustration that he can't tell if Trapper's trying to humiliate him or not. Embarrassment that he's not sure which of those he wants to be true. The faintest stream of desire that he immediately tries to block off.

When a good five seconds tick by without BJ finding his tongue, Trapper cocks his head. "You got anythin' t'say to me after all that?" His smile widens.

BJ shakes his head. "Nope. Not that I can think of."

"Really?"

"Goodbye?" BJ suggests.

For a long moment, Trapper is silent, and BJ's cheeks warm as he begins tapping his shoe on the dirt. The flush is probably just from the sun. It's almost unbearable today even for him, a guy who was practically nursed on the sticky humidity. He'd forgotten how pleasantly dry the air could be the further he was from the bay. He misses it now.

BJ finally wanders back to his car. "Well, since we don't have anything else to say—"

Trapper grabs him by the arm and BJ whips around, ripping it from his grasp. Trap scoffs. "I just wanna know if you see the funny thing about this." He comes so close that BJ can smell his musk, rich tendrils of sweat and something so uniquely McIntyre wrapping around him like vines. An instinct has BJ sway an inch forward, but stubbornness makes him fall back again as though it was simply a breeze that drifted by. Trap flicks his gaze from BJ's eyes to his mouth, stays there just long enough to make the sensitive skin tingle, then stares him down once more. "If this situation was swapped—if you were the knight riding in to rescue me—you'd be struttin' around and getting real pissy if I didn't show you any gratitude. You'd hold it over my head for a fuckin' month. Am I right?"

BJ inhales slowly and deeply, then turns his head, his jaw clenching to the point of pain.

"Hey." Trapper touches BJ's cheek and brings him right back around.

As flames erupt where his fingers are, BJ balks. "You don't get to touch me," he warns.

Trapper's brows shoot up. "Don't I?"

There's a spark suddenly, a remembered warmth that blooms on his hips, a place where Trapper's fingerprints are tattooed. The last time they shared Hawkeye, they'd been frantic like they were trying to devour an ice cream sundae before it melted. BJ was inside of Hawk at that moment, pounding him, dizzy from the overwhelming need to possess him as utterly as he could, and it had taken Trapper grabbing his hips from behind to notice that Hawk had started to drift in that pretty way he does when he's so blissed out by their hunger. "Y'wanna slow down, tease him a little?" That's what Trapper had asked. And BJ did, if only because what he'd suddenly found himself craving was the press of Trapper's body against his back, skin on skin, Trap's chin on his shoulder and his whisper in BJ's ear of exactly how he should take Hawkeye, and that had terrified him.

That's not what they do. They don't touch. They're not close. For one moment, BJ had lost his mind and forgotten who and what they are to each other—The Other Man. All mixed up in a strangely cozy home.

And yet Trapper is still running his thumb over BJ's bottom lip. And BJ is letting him.

"You're a real piece of work, honey," Trapper breathes, and though BJ waits for him to tack on the rest of his surname, he doesn't. Not only does he let the endearment stay just as it is but his voice is so warm, it's like he's not all that angry at him in the first place. His mind jumps to the next possibility—waits for a light but painful smack on his cheek in the style of Leo—but instead Trapper drags his thumb so gently over his cheek and leaves a path of tingles in his wake. When he steps back, BJ's body pulls him forward again, but Trap's already turning away, unaware. "I'll see you back at the house."

It's the most infuriating thing he's ever done in his life, he thinks, but when the flare of panic in his chest explodes at the sight of him walking away—probably disappointed, probably hating BJ, because why wouldn't he?—BJ chokes out a tight, suffocated, "Thanks."

Trapper stops. Turns back around. "Come again?"

Of course he's gonna make BJ say it again. BJ snarls at him, teeth gritted, then tries once more. "Thank you."

For a long moment, they simply watch each other. He waits for Trapper to rub it in his face, maybe laugh at him for finally, God, submitting or whatever the hell this is. But Trap saunters toward him with fire in those honey brown eyes and BJ's heart begins to race. Yeah, sure, the road's quiet. Nobody's coming from either direction. But when Trapper puts his hands on the hood of the car on either side of him and crushes his mouth against his, BJ still thinks he must be hallucinating. Dehydration, sunstroke, something. He tastes too fucking sweet for this to actually be happening.

But the weight of his body as he slowly pushes forward, that's real. Just like the shirt that BJ grabs fistfuls of for support until his back hits the hot metal. Just like the persistent pressure of his cock directly against BJ's through their jeans.

God. Oh God, he wants him. Fucking hell, he wants him more than he can say. Fuck.

When Trapper finally breaks the kiss, it feels like it's been a century, and BJ wonders, of all things, if his palms are blistered from being pressed against the hood for so long. But whatever's brewing today in the thick California summer heat, he's not totally unaffected by it. No, he's panting just like BJ is. And he's equally as hard. And because BJ is too afraid to make the next move, they simply watch each other, frozen, not saying a word, not until Trap finally grins and murmurs, "Just a little positive reinforcement for you. It'll do you good."

"Shut the fuck up," BJ shakily replies.

Trapper chuckles. His hand finds BJ's waist next, dragging down until it cradles his ilium as though it belongs there, and when he squeezes, a treacherous grunt bursts free from BJ's ribs. Trap hums in response. He starts to pull away but BJ can't get his grip to loosen right away, and they hover a few seconds longer before he can finally bring himself to let Trapper go. Trap's visibly hard in his jeans, a thick and overwhelming length that BJ spends far too much time trying not to stare at when they're in bed with Hawk, and when he risks a glance back up, Trapper is staring right at BJ's painful erection too.

Trap licks his lips. "I'll be waitin' for you at home."

His stomach somersaults. "Waiting for what?"

Trap shrugs. "I'll let you show me." He spins around on his heel and throws his hand up in a lazy wave over his shoulder. "Be safe gettin' back, honey."

Before Korea, BJ spent the greater majority of his adult life feeling like he was in complete control, hands on the wheel at ten o'clock and two o'clock, going nice and slow, knowing his exact destination. He's been off-roading without a map now for months. And as Trapper drives away, he gets the first real temptation to speed as fast as he can and see what happens if they collide.

He doesn't know what the fuck he's gonna show Trapper when he gets back either. But for once, he's able to admit that he's damn curious to find out.

[chasingcrystal]

Hello from the Corinth Canal! This man made canal is 80 kilometers or about 50 miles from Athens, Greece. It connects the Ionian Sea to the Aegean Sea and is 6.4 kilometers long and 21.4 meters wide, or 4 miles long and 70 feet wide, which means it is super narrow! Fun fact! I’m scared of heights and I actually get nauseous from looking over the edge. I wasn’t always like this, but in the last few years, when I look over the edge of something high off the ground, I get a gag reflex from the anxiety and will usually start gagging. I don’t throw up, but I think it’s my body’s way of releasing the stress. Is there anything you’re afraid of? Does your body have any reactions to your fear like mine does? Just because we’re afraid of something, doesn’t mean we need to turn away from it. Bravery is not the absence of fear, but to face it even if it scares you. Let’s face our fears 💪 #chasingcrystal #femaleriders #motorcycledream #sportbikelifestyle #ladyriders #motorcycles #womenwhoridemotorcycles #asianstyle #asiangirls #asianwomen #greece #greece🇬🇷 #visitgreece🇬🇷 #greecetravelgr #greecetravel #corinth #corinthcanal #afraidofheights #canal #hondamoto #hondamotorcycle #hondadominator #hondadominator250 #solorider #motortouring #motortouringadventure #faceyourfears #faceyourfearsliveyourdreams (at Corinth Canal, Greece) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ccf1-wQt5Au/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[voltagesmutter]

The Dickening.

Kink: Masochism || Hair-pulling || Orgy 

Pairing: 7 Demons x MC (F) [Lucifer x MC, Mammon x MC, Leviathan x MC, Satan x MC, Asmo x MC, Beelzebub x Belphegor x MC]. 

Fandom: Obey Me.

Warning: Fingering, Oral (Male and female), vaginal sex,   over-stimulation, breath-play, multiple-partners, spit-roasting, marking, rough-play, internal cum-shot, aphrodisiac. 

Day 14 of  @alloveroliver​.

Including prompts from @xxsycamore​​​

Thank you once more to @theinariakuma​​, @crystal13unny​​ and @andinewton​​​ for beta-ing (You are all angels).

Part 2

Tags: @thequeenofotakus-blog​, @kumovii @fairstival @acr2m @lilliansstuff @coldnachopeace @omg-mz-fanfic  @mammonsmainsimp​​​ @0-miles-away

“These should… help with the process,” Lucifer presented to you a table full of different bottles. Half of them glistening pink with shimmers of glitter, the others sky-blue with swirls of green inside. “The pink should help to… how do I put this… give additional help for you to ease the entry,” Lucifer turned slightly red as he gestured to the bottles.

“It’s an aphrodisiac sweetie,” Asmo giggled, “It will help you to take us,”.

“T-Take us? How big exactly are you!”  You questioned, eye’s widening as a blush took over your face.

“Well speaking for myself, you’ll need a whole bottle, maybe two,” He winks in response to you, causing a shot of arousal to tingle down your spine, thighs clenching in anticipation. “Oh sweetie, you already smell so good, I can’t wait to simply taste your delicate flower,” Asmo already sensed your arousal as he ran a hand up your thigh, causing a hitched breath from you. 

“Hey hands off my human! Once I’m done with her, she’ll simply be begging for me and forget about the rest of ya,” Mammon huffed, a pink tint to his cheeks as he caught your eye. When you turned back to face Lucifer, Mammon made a gesture with his fingers in the shapes of ‘L’s to try to show to his brothers just how big his cock was. 

“Anyway,” Lucifer rolled his eyes at the annoyance of being interrupted, “The blue is for afterwards, I dare say my brothers might get a bit handsy during their time and I want, - I mean we want no discomfort on your behalf, any bruises, marks, bites, any… of their…” Lucifer went redder and redder as he spoke. 

“Basically we can cum in ya with no worries,” Beelzebub finally took over, “Of course if that's okay with you,”. 

“As Beelze so crudely put it, but what he said is true, there is no fear of any… mistakes happening, in heat our product tends to be extremely fertile and urges take over, when we… well you know,” Lucifer once again fading out. You can’t help but try not to laugh at his awkwardness, but this is clearly new territory to his and them all as it is to you. “Solomon has worked tirelessly to perfect these, you have nothing to fear, I assure you,”.

“Okay,” You nod with a swallow, “So how does this work? Are you all, like at the same time?”.

“No,” Lucifer quickly interrupts your question, “No, heat will last over the next week, each of my brothers have chosen a day to spend with you as long as you wish to continue,”.

“We wanted to give you a day of rest so me and Beelze have shared a day,” Belphegor perked up. “I hope you handle two demon cocks at the same time princess,” He whispers into your ear as he leans over your shoulder, causing a deep blush to rise on you. The remaining brothers protesting to see it and yell at Belph to get off you.

“I apologise for him, he always seems to be most affected when the build up starts,” Lucifer scowls as Belph quickly pulls back from you. “Is there anything?”.

“No, that's all,” You smile softly as Lucifer takes your hand and gently squeezes it, his own kind smile matching yours, “I- I know you guys won’t hurt me, I trust you,”.

-

It was a rare time in the house of Lamentation, for the first time ever all the brothers' heat were syncing up to take place over the same week. Normally they had separate weeks spread throughout the year, only this time heat week occurred from the eldest to the youngest. And to make matters worse, you, their little precious human, was there. They all knew heat was coming two weeks before it started, intolerable lust coursing through their veins, extra sensitive to smell, being in demon form without any control. All were suffering.

Lucifer had offered for you to stay with Solomon, but his at times harsh humour and persona would make it a very un-enjoyable week. In all honesty you wanted to help the brothers, they did so much for you that you were desperate to give back.

You couldn’t even deny the sexual tension between each and everyone of them. As if each one wanted to claim you, pact with you, but couldn’t due to their brothers. It lingered thick in the air, a too long touch of the hand from Satan, a heated gaze from Lucifer when no one was looking, a playful grab to your ass from Mammon. All little things that held value to you, cherished moments and feelings towards them all.

So when you awoke a week before their heat, all of their faces shocked at your words during the morning meeting over breakfast, “Well, what if I help you?” After some much needed discussion, Mammon, Levi and Asmo needing no persuasion, you came to an agreement with the brothers.

And that is how you found yourself being prepared to be the ultimate sex toy amongst six devilishly handsome demons. 

-

Day One:

Lucifer was right, the potion you drank in the morning had sent your nerves alight, heat and want pulsing throughout your body. Your stomach twisted in knots, arousal shooting straight down your spine and to your core.  

With bated breath you made your way to Beelzebub and Belphegor’s room, dressed in only a thin tank top and shorts. You didn’t even make it to the door where it was flung open, Beel eagerly licking his lips, eyes the colour of the galaxy now swarmed with a clear lusting cover. 

“I could smell you all the way down the corridor,” He hummed, holding your waist and pulling you into his room, his face buried in your neck, “You smell delicious, almost too good to eat,”. A groan comes from the other side of the room, Belphegor sat atop of his bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a sly grin. Both were already in their demonic forms, heads adorned with onyx horns as iridescent wings slowly fanned the room. A thick tail with hair fanned out at the bottom twitched occasionally as they undressed you with their eyes. 

There was no time for formalities or jokes in the situation, you were here to help them with heat and that was exactly what you were going to do. Clothes dispersed around the room, two sets of hands stripping them off you as fingers touched every inch of your freshly exposed skin. Sandwiched between the two, lips fighting a tongue battle with Beel as Belphie sucked on your neck, leaving red growing marks in their wake. The size of their cocks had made you clench over nothing, both long with thick girths, Belphies with a thick meaty vein running from base to tip on the underside. They both growled to see your eyes widen at them, red-hot and pulsing with need.

“You're so wet already,” Belphie hummed lowly into your ear, the soft brush of his tail grazing between your spread legs to feel the wetness already at your slit, before sinking his teeth into your lower lobe. You moaned into Beels mouth, unsure of whose fingers were running circle motions over your clit whilst two more pushed straight into you. 

A sharp hand in your hair turned your face to the side so Belphie could kiss you, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, leaving it red and bruised as he sucked on it before releasing with a lewd pop. Beel kissed his way down your torso before dropping to his knees. The fingers on your clit stopped at he slid them to your ankle to grip it gently and lift your leg to rest on his shoulder. 

“Fuck you smell so good,” He muttered bringing his nose to your exposed flesh and inhaling deeply. The tiniest flick of his tongue over your clit sent you clenching over Belphie’s fingers causing a hiss from the demon behind you. 

‘Move!” Beel growled at his brother's fingers as he licked a long stripe from where they entered you to the end of your clit. 

“I wanna make her cum first,” Belphie hissed, pulling himself away from the red-marks he was leaving along your neck, moving his fingers to curl inside you. You let out a whimper, the potion inside you drastically increasing your sensitivity. Every little touch, breath or noise was tenfold the usual, your skin and blood on fire as you craved more and more. 

“Please,” You whimpered, “Please I need more.” The two brothers exchanged a nod in silence, both of them stepping away as you whined at the loss, only for them to guide you onto one of their beds. From there they lay you down on your back, head hanging off the edge of the bed. Beel sat between your spread thighs whilst Belphie stood in front of you. His cock right in your eye-line as you stared up at it with hooded eyes, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“Now be a good princess,” Belphie cooed softly as you let out a high pitched whine to feel Beel already with his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your heated flesh like it was his first meal of his life, “Let Beel eat that pretty little pussy of yours whilst I fuck your pretty little mouth.” His cock already in your mouth by the time he finished his sentence, groaning loudly to see your lips stretch as he pushed more of him into you. 

It was awkward in the position to move your head, letting Belphie cup the back of your head where it met your neck as he thrusted into your mouth with wild abandonment. “Oh you can take more, I know you can,” The pink liquid you had taken helped to ease the motion as his head hit the back of your throat, choking you slightly without the repercussion of a gag-reflex. One hand grasped on his thigh while the other sought purchase in Beelze's hair, tugging and grasping at each movement of his tongue.

Saliva pooled in your mouth, running down your face each time he thrusted out and back in, a twisted smile on his face as he kept his eyes focused on you at all times. A humming growl of primal instinct came as he thrust faster, watching the outline of his cock at the top of your throat appear and disappear each time. 

Your throat tightened as Beel’s tongue thrusted into your core after such teasing of his tongue over your clit causing your eyes to widen and a low groan to roll in your throat.. 

“Do that again and I’ll cum.” Belphie groaned with his head tossed back, a particular harsher thrust down your throat as you attempted to swallow the pre-cum already releasing from him. 

Beel did the action again, this time curling his tongue which made your back arch off the bed, thighs pushing tightly against either side of his head. The grip in his hair tightened, anchoring him in place to where you needed him most. You were already so close. You hummed again but this time louder, the vibrations of your enclosed throat proving to be too much as Belphie gripped your head tightly, pushing his cock to be fully hilted inside you as you choked around him once more as he came. Hot-white salted release dribbling down the back of your throat, filling your mouth to the point it leaked from your lips leaving a trail of essence and saliva down your mouth.

“What a pretty sight princess, what a good girl you are taking all of me like that,” Belphie running his thumb along your cheek as you tried to catch your breath but mewls fell from it as Beel tongue fucked you harder. Belphie dropped to his knees, leaning your chest up and resting your head on his shoulder as he cupped your breasts, tugging sharply at your nipples causing another moan and buck of the hips from you to Beel’s face. The angle Belphie put you in gave you a perfect view of the ginger brother between your thighs. The hand now free from Belphie’s thigh joined the other to grasp Beelze’s hair, clutching to it to ground you as he brought you closer and closer to ecstasy. “Now be even better and cum all over his face,”.

It didn’t take much more than those words and Beel’s heated gaze as he peered up from between your thighs whilst his tongue twisted and curled inside you to find a release. Only you didn’t cum. 

Hot arousal pulsed from within you, starting from your scalp down to your toes as your back arched full of Belphie, fingers now twisting into the bed sheets below. Your hips bucked wildly as you cried out, core pulsing tighter and tighter.  Your eyes screwed shut as you collapsed back down, ragged breaths from you and deep monstrous groans from the two brothers. Only when you open your eyes did you realise what had happened. 

You’d squirted. 

Something you didn’t know you were able to do, all over Beel’s face which was dripping down onto his godly-defined torso. The sight itself made you clench and thighs clamp together. 

A snarl came from Beel, as Belphie continued to thumb over your nipples, gripping your thighs and wrenching them open as he knelt back between them. One hand keeping them open as the other wrapped around his throbbing cock, his eyes focused on your pulsing core before moving up to whine at your cum stained mouth which was still dripping with Belphies release. His wings fluttered quickly, the horns embedded in his orange hair seemed to throb in time to his cock. Two quick jerks, a deep groan and Beel found his release, spewing hot seed onto your stomach and thighs. 

His cock still stood solid after as had Belphies, arousal still high in the air between all three of you as you realised none of you would be satisfied until you were passing out.

“I can’t wait to feel you squirt all over my cock,” Belphie groaned into your ear followed by a groan from Beel as they moved you into position on your hands and knees.

-

Day two:

The bites and marks the two brothers had left all over your skin were no-longer visible the following morning, the seed that filled you to the point of dripping from you was also gone. No aches, no pains, nothing. 

“I trust my brothers treated you well yesterday?” Leviathan asked when you turned up to his room, inspecting your skin for any marks or bruises.

“Yes, Beel and Belphi-!” You started only to be cut off as Leviathan pinned you to the solid oak door.

“Oh normie, normie, normie,” He chuckled darkly, his orange eyes burning into your soul as they hinted a darkness behind them, “Don’t you know who you're dealing with?” His tail snaked up around your abdomen before curling gently around your neck, “Don’t ever mention another man's name when in my presence.” followed by a light squeeze to your neck. 

The avatar of envy for clear reasons.

Levi led you over to his bed, a bathtub now filled with water and the heavenly scent of rose. Your normally shy friend wasted no time, pulling you to him as he kissed you softly, holding you close to him as he gently tugged at your clothes. “Off!’ He whispered as he bit your lip before pulling back, pulling off the large hoodie he was wearing along with jeans with pure commando underneath. You couldn’t help but gasp to see the already-semi he’d gotten, although between your thighs were also already wet.

He helped you into the water, lying down as he pulled you to straddle him, his lips already re-attaching to yours as his hands fondled your breasts. The snake-like feel of his tail inching up your thighs to brush against your sex, both of you hissing at the feel of it. Thick and smooth. 

He moved one hand down to cup your ass, whilst the other held your waist as he moved hot kisses down to your collarbone, a sharp bite every now and then before focusing his attention on your breasts. Capturing them in his mouth as he sucked on a nipple, sharp teeth grazing over them as you threw your head back, unable to stop yourself from grinding over his tail that rested against your clit. 

“Oh Levi…” You moaned out, the gentle push of the tip of his tail into your core. Never had you felt something like this, warm yet cold, thicker and thicker it went as he slowly pushed more into you, stretching you ready for the girth of his cock. You cling to his shoulders for support as he thrusts slowly in and out until your arousal runs down his tail and mixes into the water below.  

Heat rose to your cheeks as the tip of his tail curled inside you, searching until-

“Oh!” You cried out, clenching tightly as he found the spot he was looking for. 

“I want you to cum on my tail,” He groaned against your skin, continuing to repeatedly hit that spot over and over again. Your vision flooded with stars, breaths becoming more sparse with each second as you grinded down against his movements.

“I- I wanna...Levi...I,” You whimper, scratching red marks down his chest, the pit of your stomach dropping as the coil tightened like your muscles around him.

“Words baby, tell me,” He gently pushed a piece of hair stuck to your sweating forehead behind your ear. 

“I wanna cum on your cock…” Embarrassment pushed to the side as you felt him still for a mere second. A lowly chuckle fell from his lips, sitting up in the water to slap your ass before squeezing it.

“Begging to be fucked already I see?” He sucks on your lower lobe, “You good girl.” The motion of his tail quickens, bringing on your orgasm in rushed speed as you wither in his hold, circling your hips as they buck against him. Head thrown back with a trail of sweat running down your back as you collapse against his chest. “Now,” He pulls his tail out of you as you whimper slightly, only to have the head of his cock pushing into you, “You can come on my cock,”. He pushed into you slowly, he was thick with a stretch that still burned slightly even with the potion and you were still sensitive from your orgasm. 

“L-Levi! S-Stop!” You gasp, pushing your hand to his chest as he completely stilled, even in heat a demon knew ‘no’. 

“Is everything okay? Should I pull out? I-I,” Levi’s normal persona slipping through the cracks of his heat, cock still buried partly inside you. 

“N-no I, I’m gonna cum,” You say in short breaths, focusing your hardest not to move as his cock currently pressed against a spot inside you that was about to have you undone in seconds. 

“Oh baby girl,” He grins with a cheshire smile, “Then cum.”. With that he shallowly thrusts into the same spot, the angle of his cock, the throbbing of his head, the push of his tail against your clit sent you hurtling off the edge with only half of his cock inside you. You convulsed around him, squeezing him as you pulsed, only for him to push further into you, fighting against your tightening walls. Your head dropped to his shoulder moaning loudly, your chest pressed to his as he held your hips to guide you into a grind. You whimpered from over-sensitivity, tears pooling in your eyes as you glanced up to see Levi smirking down at you. 

“Don’t worry baby,” He thrusted into the grind, tail never slowing its movements on your clit as you spasmed over him, “I’ll give you exactly what you asked for.” Thrusting into you at a speed where water splashed out of the side, another wave of pleasure hit you as you bonelessly collapsed against him, letting orgasm after orgasm wave across you until your mind was blank.

-

Day 3:

Sore muscle? None.

Imprints around your neck from where Levi’s tail had gripped you? None.

You woke up the next morning to an ache between your thighs, as if you were already desperate to be filled once more by another brother. 

Only it turned out the ache wasn’t purely from you.

“Good morning sweetie,” Rose studded eyes peering from between your thighs as you looked down, Asmo with his chin and mouth slick, “I must say I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to wake up after the way you’ve been calling out for me all morning,”. You can feel the slickness already dripping down your thighs and ruining your bedsheets.

“Asmo…” You wither, throwing your head back as a long stripe of his tongue started from your core to your clit, a hum of approval as he does. You try to reach down and bury your fingers in his hair but a cold movement stops you, your hands bound by handcuffs to the bed. 

“Sorry sweetie, but the way you were tugging my hair, I was going to lose control,” Followed by a gentle nip to your thigh. 

“How long-... how long have you.. fuck,” You whimper, pushing your heels down as you feel two fingers thrusting into you, the sound of wet arousal already filling your room.

“Three my dove, and I think,” He twists his fingers causing your back to arch with a pleasant sigh, “Your about to give me a fourth.” And just like that you came again around his fingers, crying out to feel your walls tense and pulse. “I knew you would taste sweet.” He whispered against your clit, pulling his fingers out to replace them with his tongue. Curling the lengthy muscle inside you to lap up all your sweet release. 

“Looks like the aphrodisiac is starting to work on you.” He teases, head still buried between your thighs as you turn to see two empty bottles of it beside you, Asmo had clearly poured them into your mouth whilst you were asleep. Not that you minded, this was a beyond pleasant way to wake up.

“Asmo!” Hips bucking, fists tugging against the steel of the cuffs around you, “More, god please more.” The lips around your lower ones suck once before releasing with a wet pop. 

“Oh sweetie…” He hums, pulling himself away, crawling slowly up your body to press his wet lips against your ear, “There is no god here, there is only me.” Your eyes widen to feel the heated length sliding against your folds, coaxing himself in your arousal. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, tongue running around your lower before pulling back. “You taste like sweet berries,” He giggles. “Now,” He strokes a finger down your arm before it meets the handcuffs, “Shall I take these off… oh I guess I’ll leave them on then”. Half through his sentence you shook your head, a meek ‘Please keep them on’ came from you. 

Kneeling up, Asmo kept himself between your parted legs as he stroked himself. You let out a whimper to see him-

-Asmo was right, you definitely needed two bottles to take him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” Asmo stroked your thigh as if sensing your nerves at his size. The stretch of him as he pushed in brought tears to your eyes, the drag of him against your velvet walls sent a heat across your body. Cheeks rising as you panted already, the feeling of being so full as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. His name fell over and over from your mouth as he pulled back to thrust forward, the squeak of the bed growing louder with each quickening thrust. His hands gripped on to your waist as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as he thrusted into you, your ass resting upon his thighs. 

“You feel so good,” Asmo rolled his hips into you, hitting every sweet spot inside you that made you sing out to him.

“Oh… fuck Asmo… harder.” You moaned beneath him, digging your heels into his lower back to spur him on.

A chuckle isn’t the reaction you expected. 

“You want it harder sweetie? My beautiful little human likes it rough?” He teased, peering down to watch you nod eagerly.

“Oh sweetie.” He smirked, hoisting your legs off of him and throwing them over his shoulders as he slammed into you, hands tightly holding your ankles. Your heated screams of pleasure were drowned out by the headboard shunting against the wall, the mattress struggling to cope with the roughening thrusts. Springs beneath you threatening to snap, like the coil within you that was already on the verge of breaking. 

The position of your hands above you gave him a perfect view of the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, admiring the way they slapped against your skin like the way his hips did against yours. 

“Gonna… gonna cum Asmo…” You groaned, back raising off the bed as your thighs began to tremble. Within the next breath Asmo pulled out and flipped you over, pulling your hips up as he thrusted back into you, he’d been kind enough to cross your arms when he cuffed them so during the flip it was a comfortable position. 

“Cum for me my sweetie, let my brothers know who’s making you feel so good,” He sings out, thrusting in abandonment into you. A bite to your neck pushes you over the edge, his name crying from your mouth so loud it could be heard throughout the house. 

-

Day 4: 

“Mammon…”

“Mammon…!”

“Mammon!” 

The moans from you getting louder and louder in pitch from the kitchen. Sat upon the wooden work surface, legs spread wide with white tufts of hair between them. Mammon ravaged you on the spot after he told you, ‘I need my breakfast’. The normally teasing demon swept you up straight up on the counter and tugged your shorts and panties down before you could even take another breath. 

“So good, so sweet my human.” He groaned, holding your lower lips apart with one hand as the other pushed against your thighs to stop them from crushing his head. 

Head thrown back to hit the tiled wall behind you, fingers grasping on to his horns causing him to rutt his hips against the cabinets, the lewd wet noises of him eating you like a feast filled in the air. Chest rising up and down as you tugged your top down with one hand, toying with your own exposed nipples for a slight added stimulation. The grunt that left Mammon to peer up and see it, was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. It was a purely erotic sight to be hold. 

He took you against the counter, hips thrusting into you with pure control and precision. Mammon unraveled you faster than he could swipe Goldie. Only the orgasm you gave him was much more satisfying to his needs than spending money. Leaving a sticky trail of evidence upon the counter, for only someone else to discover later in the day. 

Your lips were wrapped around his cock at least three times. One in the shower, once on his bed and once upon the pool table. Each time ending in your mouth full of his release, too much for you to swallow causing it to dribble out down your chin and spread against your chest. Mammon burning the sight into his mind. 

He bent you over every piece of furniture he could find, ramming his cock into you from behind until your legs threatened to buckle from under you. He’d lean over and whisper dirty words into you just to feel you clench over him, your muscles trying to stop him from pulling away each time his hips pulled backwards. 

“My tight human pussy,”, “Ya so wet and it’s all for me,”, “Fuck, ya look so good with my huge cock pounding you like this,”, “Cumming again? Yeah that’s right baby girl, let go and let me just take care of ya,”, “Ngh-Ya squeeze me so much, ya pussy already knows who it really belongs to, look how sensitive it is just from me pushing my cock into ya,”, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna cum over and over again. Fill this tight pink pussy up with the Great Mammon’s sperm,”. 

His personal favourite position of the day was when he fucked you atop of the pool table. You’d engaged in foreplay to start with, three fingers curling inside you as you leaned over and sucked his cock. Mammon under-exaggerated his length to say the least. You could barely wrap a hand around it, not even fitting half of it into your mouth before it was hitting the back of your throat. Thanking the heavens (and Solomon) for the potions allowing your gag-reflex to vanish for the time, taking Mammon down your throat until you almost choked without air. A ‘Fucking hell human. Fuck that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,’ groaned from Mammon as throbbed in your mouth, threatening to release as his eyes watched you. Nothing in his lifetime could compare to the sight. 

By the time you were close to coming, he pulled his fingers away before slamming his cock into you from behind, pushing your face down against the green felt. From the edging of the foreplay and the feeling of his head hitting your cervix you came instantly. Mammon gripping your shoulders tightly to the point they drew blood, trying to hold back his release. whilst he could hold it for a few deep thrusts, it was the whimper of his name as you turned your head over your shoulders to meet his gaze, watery blue eyes hinted with coin bronzed yellow swimming within a pool of lust that pushed him head first off the edge. He came so much he filled you to the point it gushed out onto your thighs and puddled upon the green felt of the table, hand having to jerk himself off as he continued to spurt his release onto your ass. 

The sight of white upon your skin, just like his markings, set off a primal instinct within him and within minutes he was ready and roaring for more, determined to paint your skin in his essence and markings. 

-

Day 5:

You were mind-blanked. Nothing but Satan filling your mind and body, lost in the white light of pleasure. Unable to form sentences, a babbling mess of incoherent words as you let pleasure ripple across your body like a surging river. 

“I’m not like my brothers,” He cooed softly when you walked into his room, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You’d seen Satan in demon form before but this was a softer side to him, demon form by lust and not from anger. “We’ll do this however you feel comfortable,”. 

“I like to be on top.” You smile, bringing a hand to cup his face. Satan was the one you were most worried about seeing his anger from before and almost, extremely mildly almost, frightened that he would bring this anger out into his lust. Alas, Satan cared for you the most and wanted to attend to your needs. ‘I can control myself in heat’ he told you. Words he soon forget in moments later. 

“You're so big!” You mewled, digging your fingers into his chest as you rose your hips once more before lowering down, this time taking him fully. His back rested against the headboard as he sat up, you straddled across him with your hands splayed across his chest whilst he rested his on your waist. “Oh fuck Satan, Yes...Yes!” fell from your mouth in-time to your slowly rolling hips. 

Whilst he wasn’t as thick as the others he was by far the longest, able to hit every needed spot within you as you grinded over him. Flush spread across your cheeks and down your neck, heated pleasure coursing through your veins as your mouth dropped into an ‘o’. One hand scratched at his chest leaving red marks in their wake whilst the other reached into the blonde of his hair and gripped onto his curled horns. It caused a hiss from him, eyes widening open as he panted heavily, the grip of his fingers sinking harshly into your skin. His self control slipped quickly with each roll of you upon him. Calling his name in a trembled voice, back arching so your breasts pressed against his chest, full skin on skin contact with him as he held you tightly. Your grip on his horns tightened like your muscles over his cock, the motion being his undoing.

With a strangulated groan followed by a whimper, heat surged inside you, one you had grown accustomed to over the last week. Satan’s head collapsed against your chest leaving you stilling your movements, to feel him continue to pulse and throb into you as he breathed heavily against your chest. 

You’d heard demon horns were sensitive during heat, but you never expected it to be that sensitive. 

“Satan...is everything okay?” Awkwardly still straddling him, his cock still hard inside you as you waited in suspense. You weren't far off finding a release yourself but now you felt it slipping further and further away. 

A growl unlike you’d heard anything before left from Satan, the noise purely demonic. With a scream you were pulled from off of him, a demonstration of his hidden strength as he held onto you, pushing off the bed and slamming you into the nearby wall. 

“Oh my little kitten,” A toothy grin meets your eyes, a slick tongue darting out to lick his lower lip as his eyes practically glow whilst covered in lust, “You have no idea what you do to me.” The vibrant green of his tail worms it way up across your body, taking its time to fondle and press over your dripping folds before continuing its way up to your body. You feel the scales of it wrap once around your neck and just as it squeezes slightly with control, his cock once again fills you to the hilt as he slams his hips into yours. Eyes roll from both of you to the back of your head, one arm holding beneath one of your thighs whilst the other pushes onto the wall next to your head to keep you caged in his hold. 

The roar from him makes the desk nearby tremble, objects perfectly placed on his desk rolling around and spilling onto the floor. He effortlessly bounces you off his cock in a pace that brings stars to your eyes in seconds, gasping as his tail continues to gently squeeze your throat until he feels you withering whilst you cum around him. 

“Yeah that’s right kitten, give into how good I make you feel.” Snarling as he says it, leaning down to catch a bouncing breast into his mouth as he sharply nips at your nipple causing a large red mark to form upon your skin. Unable to help you cling to him, red marks of dark lines grace his back as you claw into him, on the verge of a second orgasm already from how he’s pounding up and into you. 

“D-Don’t stop.” You manage between moans, unable to hold back at how good this feels. Your skin and blood almost on fire, one or two tears rolling down your cheek only to be licked up by Satan, groaning as he laps up the saltiness. 

The movement that made your mind blank into boneless-ness was when the tip of his tail pushes into your mouth, forcing its way into your wet cavern as he thrusts it in in-time to the thrust of his cock. Unable to focus you let it twirl in a battle with your tongue, drool pooling from your lips as it drips down your body to mix with sweat before hitting the point of where Satan and you meet. Weakly, you drag your arms up to once more grip his horns, danger threatening in Satan’s eyes as you tightly hold onto them. 

It was fair to say Satan completely lost-control, roughly taking orgasm after orgasm until you blackout from over stimulation.

-

Day 6:

You’d be fucked to an inch of your life and it felt like it. Whilst the potions you took helped to remove muscle ache, the vast amounts of sperm pumped into you, bites, marks and everything else, it couldn’t remove the memories of feelings of the brothers upon you.

You spent more of the day in bed, just lying in a complete bliss of contentedness. Heat turned out to be just as enjoyable for you as it had the brothers, using you to fulfil their needs whilst also ensuring your own outer-body pleasurable experience. Even after their way with you they still cared for you like they normally would, ensuring you were okay, making sure you took the potion to heal your ruined body before carrying you to bed and letting you rest. Heat would definitely change the way you saw them all, the softness of Levi now filled with memories of him fucking you with his tail, Satan drawing out as many orgasms as he could before filling you over and over, Beel’s cock in your mouth as you choked on it whilst Belphie pounded into you from behind, Asmo teasing your clit to the point you came from a few quick strokes against it with the head of his cock and Mammon unable to control when he needed you taking you against the nearest surface he could. 

The only brother you hadn’t come into contact with over the week was Lucifer. He refused to partake in your offering over heat, deeming he was a man and that he “should be able to control his urges without the help of a human.” That was Lucifer's way of putting it but what he really meant was he loved you too much and was too frightened he might lose control around you and ruin whatever this ‘friendship’ between you was. It scared him how much he lost himself around you, worried he would become a feral beast if he even got a whiff of your scent whilst he was in heat. And for that he kept himself locked away in his room.

-

Day 7:

It was the last day of heat and the rest of the brothers were slowly calming down, you could finally be in a room with them without them trying to tear off your clothes or burying their noses onto your skin just to get a smell of you. 

As you sat in the kitchen, a noise so loud it made the cabinets near by rock on their study legs, the solid oak door to the exit of the house squeaked on its hinges and plates threatened to break from the way they shook. It was a noise similar to the one Satan had made, a growl from the deep depths of within a demon. One that made your core clench tightly. 

You’d already taken the last potion you had in the morning, just in case one of the brothers' needs hadn’t been filled, it was better to be prepared. And as you stood outside Lucifer's door, slowly pushing it open to be emerged into a darkening sight. You knew there was one last brother who needed you. 

The inside of Lucifer's room was dark, tatters of thick curtains ripped apart letting light inside the room. Stacks of paper were tossed onto the floor in shreds, ruins of books and momentous were scattered amongst the room, marks upon the wall where they’d been thrown leaving huge dents. In the midst of the room stood a figure hunched over, black as dark as night heaving on the toned back that raised and lowered with deep breaths. Clothes ripped upon his body, as if he’d torn at them themselves, unable to keep himself caged within them. 

“Lucifer…” You meekly called out into the room, taking a bold step forward into the room, letting the door shut behind you softly. When no reply came you took another step forward, closing the distance between you and him. 

And on your third step, red-beaded eyes glowing like the rising sun turned to find you, staring at you like a predator upon prey. It made you freeze. For the first time you weren't seeing Lucifer as Lucifer, you were seeing a really powerful demon. 

“Leave.”

“Luci-“

“I said go!” Lucifer's plea came out in a yell, one that echoed off the walls and ricocheted off the furniture in its way. He turned on the spot, standing tall and proud, the exposure of his toned abdomen beneath peering through the barely together shirt. The normal trousers he wore were nothing but torn shorts, half opened and falling down his waist as black boxers poked from underneath them and as your eyes travelled down-

-A bulge clearly visible travelling far down his thigh, thick in girth and straining to be freed. 

“Lucifer I-“ You take a step forward, you should have been frozen in fear from the way he was hungrily staring at you but this beast, this demon, was still your protector Lucifer.

In the next moment he was stalking towards you at breakneck speed, clutching his hands to your forearms as his breath came in waves. 

“Your aroma is so… powerful,” Leaning down to slowly lick your neck causing a soft whimper as you tilted your head to allow him better access. As if realising his actions he pulled away, dropping his hands from you. “Please- I… I can’t control myself around you,” His voice breaking as he tried to keep himself away from you.

“Lucifer please, let me help you.” You softly whispered, reaching a hand out to gently cup his sharply defined jawline, a growl stirring in his throat. 

“I won’t be able to hold back… I- I’ll hurt you… I’m not like my brothers, my heat is worse…” Lucifer swallowing, the bob of his adam’s apple clear from above you. The reason as to why Lucifer kept pushing you away for heat was clearly visible. 

“I’m not scared of you Lucifer,” Softly rubbing your thumb over his skin, “Please, let me help you, I want to help you.”

The hands that held your arms came back to grip your face, pulling you up as he leaned down, pressing his lips tightly to yours as his tongue forced its way into your mouth. He gripped the back of your neck forcing an angle so his tongue could slide further into your throat, pushing the full length of his body against yours. The hand on your arm bunched your shirt up and ripped it off your body, leaving your torso exposed as he bit your bottom lip. Greedily he palmed your breasts, pulling his mouth away from you, you fell to your knees.

You were lost in the haze, completely taken over in lust as Lucifer’s grip in your hair tightened. One hand wrapped partly around his base whilst your mouth worked down over him, thrusting and fucking your mouth until your eyes watered and spit fell from your lips and onto the floor below. His cock was bigger than the rest, solid and pulsing it stood, flushed red with veins that throbbed down the side of it just aching to be touched. Growls and grunts fell over and over from him, fucking your face as he pushed the whole of his cock down your throat until you gagged and choked over it. He spilled into your mouth with nothing more than a few ragged breaths, the fingers in your hair twisted and tugged as he throbbed. Thick spurts of white falling with saliva from your lips, running down your throat as you held eye-contact with him, swallowing the more than plentiful release. 

Your shorts were ripped from you as well, the sound of fabric tearing filling the room as he positioned you upon the bed on your hands and knees. He wasted no time lining up and thrusting into you, groaning so loudly that the bed rocked beneath you. Even with your own arousal and the potion, it was still a matter of patience for him to fully enter you, patience which Lucifer currently didn’t have. He shallowly thrusted with urgency until half of him slid in without any resistance, your tight walls clenching over him to stop him pulling out with every thrust. Until finally, he spat down to where you met and hilted himself fully into you.

“Lucifer!” You grip tightly to the bed-sheets, the force of him enough to make the air inside your lungs leave your body. Painted red nails of sharp spiked fingers clutch to your waist as he pulls your body back, not giving moments to adjust as he pushes over and over into you until slapping of wet skin is almost louder than the noises you're both making. He drives purposefully to the spot that makes your back arch, an orgasm building up already with little to no second to savour the feeling. The blood inside you is flaming, spreading a heated wild-fire inside you as every nerve is set alight with intensity. 

As your muscles tighten rapidly, Lucifer roars out as sweat drips down his body completely giving into his heated need as he fucks you with primal urgency. His pace growing rapid as he feels your orgasm so close, unable to stop his nails breaking into your skin as he grips at you. The experience verging on painful as your elbows collapse, your face falling onto the pillows beneath as your body shunts forward with every powerful thrust. 

“Fuck you look so good taking me like this,” His eyes focusing on the way his meaty cock stretches you over and over again as he thrusts in and out of you in tight controlled movements, unwanting and unwilling to even pull himself fully out of you. 

You couldn’t help but scream out as you came, watery tears leaking from your eyes at the intensity of the white flooding your eyes, whilst highly pleasurable to a new level, it came fast and hard from Lucifer's punishing movements into you. The hands on your waist move, one leaning over you to grip the headboard showing his strength as it snapped. Splintering wood now lay in his hand as his whole body shook from the grip whilst you pulsed over him. The other hand clutched at the back of your neck and sunk scratches upon your shoulders that threatened to bleed. The sound of all four wings racing in speed to match his thrusts, unbridled passion of lust seeping from every inch of him.

Lucifer continued to thrust, the over-sensitivity of your spot being repeatedly hit boarded on painful. 

This was no longer Lucifer, this was a creature pulled from the deepest pits of hell, brutally taking you until you could give no more. 

Your teeth bit into the pillow, trying to obscure your whimpers but Lucifer heard them loud and clear. Pulling you up gently by the back of your hair, pulling up until you rested on your knees, your ass resting on the top of his thighs as his chest pressed against your back. A strong arm curved around the front of you to cup a breast, the weight of it bouncing in his hand with each thrust as his index and thumb rolled your nipple between them. The hand in your hair loosening to run his palm down your stomach, crying out loudly to feel his fingers spread your folds and rub tight circles around your clit. Head rolling against his shoulder, eyes falling to the back of your head as his lips press soft kisses down the contour of your neck, pleasure taking over every sense in your body. ‘Lucifer… Lucifer… Lucifer’ Over and over it falls from your mouth like a sinful prayer, body’s entwined like those of lovers. An erotic sight of pure loving pleasure upon his satin sheets. Gone was the rough fucking from moments before, Lucifer kissing the areas up on your shoulders where red marks lay as if trying to melt the pain away. 

The softening tenderness was a surprise side of him you never expected. Deep penetrating thrusts, hitting inside you as he pulled partly out to thrust back in, groaning deeply as you came around him again in little time. This time feeling the full force of pleasure spread through your veins, not rough or forced like the one before, this one connecting you and Lucifer in an almost spiritual experience as you cried out his name to the highest of heavens. Skin ablaze whilst your toes curled, arms reaching behind you to wrap around his neck, burying in his raven hair to pull his face to yours. One hand wrapped around the ebony horn to keep him close, the added stimulation of that and your tightening walls was all he needed. The stuttering flutter of his rapid wings from behind indicated his release before you felt it. Lips meeting in a sloppy kiss, as you felt his heat surge inside you, biting his lower by accident as another orgasm blends into your waves of pleasure. 

Trembling in his hold, hips rocking against his as you pulse to the point mixed arousal dripped down your thighs as he pulled his softening cock from you. Whimpering from over sensitivity as your muscles still squeezed him to try stop him from pulling out. “Shh little one, I’ve got you.” He cooed softly, kissing your lips over and over in softening pecks, hands running up and down your sides. Both of your skins aglow with sweat, ragged breaths meeting together, foreheads stuck and pressed against each other. Sharing a tender embrace with the eldest brother, two racing hearts beating at the same time. 

“I hurt you.” His eyes full of shame to see the marks upon you caused by his own hand, his heart heavy and wounded to know that he did this to you. 

“I’m okay, Lucifer I’m okay.” You whisper against his lips, slowly turning to face him. None of it hurt, all that mattered was that Lucifer knew you were fine and that whatever happened didn’t change your opinion on him. You bury your hands once more in his hair to kiss him, softly pushing him back until he lay on the bed as you straddled him, lips never parting for a second. He was still erect and most likely would be until the end of his heat that night. Slowly, you lifted your hips and let yourself sink back down onto him. He groaned so softly into your mouth as he protested at your slowly grinding hips, you interlaced your fingers with his. “Just let me take care of you.” Pooling eyes full of lust and love meeting each other as Lucifer nodded at your words, giving you full control to him as his thumb slowly rubbed over yours. Rocking your hips slowly, a complete change in atmosphere as you brought each other to a slow burning climax for the following of the night.

-

Day 8:

You woke up wrapped in satin sheets, a strong arm around your waist and a heavy breath against the back of your neck. Turning in the embrace to see Lucifer, sound asleep and more importantly back to his human form, heat was finally over. Lucifer had been the first brother to spend the night with you after sex, watching you drink every drop of the blue potions until he knew for sure that no-harm had come to you for his actions. 

“Good morning.” A groggy voice yawned as the arm around you pulled you closer, resting you against his chest.

“Good morning,.” You whispered, pressing a sweet chaste kiss to where his heart lay. 

Whilst heat may have given you the experience to be an individual part of the brothers for a week, when you woke up today was where you were meant to belong. In the strong hold of your loving protector, Lucifer.

Like my work? Send a donation of support here Kinktober masterlist here.

[goshen-applecrumbledore]

Fic: 'Snooping and breaking things' timestamp (Sam POV)

I wrote Sam alone in their motel room while Dean was out in Snooping and breaking things. body swap, mentioned sam/dean, PWP, pining.

Wearing Dean's body was a nightmare for several reasons. The heartburn was bad and his aching joints were an annoying hassle, but the fact that Sam had wanted to be inside Dean's body in a very, very different way ever since he could remember was by far the hardest to deal with.

Wearing Dean's body was a nightmare for several reasons. The heartburn was bad and his aching joints were an annoying hassle, but the fact that Sam had wanted to be inside Dean's body in a very, very different way ever since he could remember was by far the hardest to deal with.

Dean was out with Katie wearing Sam's body like a meat-suit, but he couldn't think about that. Because he couldn't think about that, or the fact that Dean wasn't answering his phone, or the fact that Dean was thirty minutes late, Sam was sitting alone in their motel room in one of the uncomfortable dining chairs with his hands folded on the tabletop like a pious schoolboy. Folded where he could keep an eye on them. His thoughts were harder to keep in check.

He saw you naked. He said you have a big dick. He probably touched it.

Dean wouldn't. He told him not to, and maybe their boundaries were a few skips away from healthy, but Dean wouldn't. 

He sounded like he liked it, though. He sounded impressed.

Sam groaned, alone, to himself. It was Dean's groan, so it didn't help.

You're reaching. You're making shit up. You're pathetic, he was just razzing you.

His hands moved at some point without his say-so, because he had the pads of his fingers against his lips. Against Dean's obscene mouth.

He pulled them away, burned. Then, with another glance at the door, he put them right back.

Don't. Stop. Do not.

Dean's lips were pillowy. He tried to remember if he'd ever felt Dean's mouth before, but nothing came to mind, and there was likely nothing beyond clapping a hand over his mouth to shut him up. Touching them so intentionally was new. Tracing them.

He put his fingers in his mouth.

Logically, he knew he should stop. Physically, Dean was sucking his fingers, and he didn't stop.

He let his-Dean's mouth pull at his fingers, sucking gently, the hot wet soft curl of his tongue. He always wondered. He was so stupid, and he always wondered. It was better than he thought. He finally knew what it would feel like, both to have Dean suck his fingers and to suck Dean's fingers, all at once.

It was easy to imagine. His, Sam's, fingers working into Dean's mouth, the way he'd take them, the give of his soft palate and his throat as he pushed them in. Dean pretended like he didn't know, but he did, he had to, Sam saw the way he looked at guys. No real gag reflex, which had to be practiced.

He tried not to think about Dean liking guys, most days. It was too close, it gave him hope he had no business having, because 'guys' didn't mean 'brother,' not by a mile. He wasn't stupid, he was just… broken. Only a little.

He was hard now, too. It was an insane sensation, getting hard with someone else's dick, familiar and still not. He took his fingers out of his mouth, pushed his chair out from the table and looked down at it, which only made him harder, because it was Dean's. He'd seen Dean's hard dick in his jeans more times than he knew what to do with, a life spent sitting next to Dean as he popped wood over a waitress' tits, the same at eighteen as he was at twenty-eight.

Sam wanted to touch it so bad he spread his hands back on the tabletop.

You're better than this, he thought, this does not define you, Dean does not define you, that rotting kernel inside you that makes you want to fuck your brother is only a kernel, insignificant, a speck. It's not important, it's not you. This fucked up thing is not you.

It felt like him, though. A lot. It had been an elephant in his mental room since he hit puberty, and he didn't always think about it, but it never went away. It skulked behind him, waiting for an opportunity—an unintentionally flirty comment from Dean, a caught look, and his brain went crazy wondering: did Dean know? Was it even remotely possible that the thing that was eating him alive was also eating Dean?

He didn't let himself entertain the thought. Dean wouldn't know a healthy boundary if it fucked him in the ass, but this particular beast was entirely Sam's own.

He ran his hand up his thigh, dangerously close. Dean was more sensitive than him, even the friction of his hard-on against denim was getting him there, Jesus, how did he live like this?

He couldn't help it, he slid his palm over it and hissed at the feeling.

It was big. Some of that had to be genes oh God don't think about that, don't, never mind, it was— it was good, thick and full under the push of his hand. He could play with it a little, that wasn't so bad. One stroke, two, the angle awkward through his jeans. He pressed his fingers against the head and made sparks of pleasure race up his spine, too sharp, knees opening wide. His mouth was dry. He kept petting it, rougher, each stroke making it harder to stop.

He thought about how often Dean did this alone, in the shower and in bed and any time he had five halfway private minutes. Sam had heard him enough to know, his reluctant grunts of pleasure and poorly-stifled breathing, the same he was hearing in his own ears, out of his own mouth.

His back was starting to sweat, hot and damp in the valley of his spine, in the tight black t-shirt that drove him crazy. He resigned himself about thirty seconds ago to the fact that he was going to come, he couldn't go back, but if he did it in his jeans, the odds of Dean finding out went up exponentially. He had to take it out. No choice, really. That's what he told himself.

He went to the bed, standing for a moment in front of his own before going to Dean's. He sat back against the headboard and fumbled his belt and then jeans open with numb, nervous hands. He paused to push up his shirt and smooth a broad hand over his stomach, flat and hard with a bit of soft, just enough to make him want to dig his fingers in. Up higher, over his pecs to brush over a nipple and feel the amulet bump against his knuckles, which, when he was a kid, made him go nuts: knowing that Dean never took it off, which meant he wore it when he was with girls, a piece of Sam there to bear witness; he wondered if Dean told the truth if a girl asked about it, my brother gave it to me, and how soon before or after sex his name might be in Dean's mouth because of it.

Sam was more mature now, and he didn't think about that stuff so much, but he thought it then. Wallowed in it, even. It was a special occasion. 

He slid his hand back between his (Dean's) legs, over his boxers, and all but melted back into the pillows. He was so hard and warm under his fingers, big, and he could smell him. Guilt grew and grew inside him but he didn't want to think about it, he couldn't, he was too far gone. He groaned and it sounded like Dean, it felt so good, he was so stupid. He cupped himself (Dean) through his boxers and tipped his head back.

"Fuck me," he said to himself, shame burning in the back of his throat. Then, worse—don't say it don't say it don't say it— "Sammy."

Fucking pervert. Pathetic.

He pulled his boxers down, eyes screwed shut like that was any better, and took him in his hand. The skin on skin was electric and better than he ever thought, terrifying and hot and perfect. He stroked himself and couldn't stop thinking about Dean doing it, and how he now knew exactly how he felt when he did, and he lasted all of ten seconds before he looked down and watched, and after that he was fucking gone. He was gone the second he said 'Sammy.'

He knew he had to get it over with, God only knew when Dean would get back and turn a bad situation worse.

He stared down at Dean's hand on Dean's dick, working it in his fist, thick and pretty, proportioned, a goddamn vision. He sunk into his fantasies the way he'd sink into Dean if he could, in some opposite universe where Dean let him, where Dean was just as messed up as him. Dean making the choked-back noises that were coming out of his own throat, Dean losing his mind over it, Dean babbling at him fuck shit yes yes just like that oh fuck, clawing at his back, his arms, going crazy with it.

Even better, the idea of getting Dean to finally shut up was erotic all on its own; fucking him so good and so hard he didn't have anything to say about it, couldn't say anything about it, bravado gone, annoying veneer stripped, just going to pieces on Sam's dick. It was the best thing in his godawful spank bank, fucking Dean stupid like that. Usually face down. Usually with a hand on the back of his head to keep him there.

He slid down the headboard and his head tipped back into the pillows, body going taut with pleasure, teeth clenching, so close his toes curled and he stopped being able to hold anything back, so, even worse, or a hell of a lot more dangerous, he thought about Dean fucking him.

It was humiliating and awful but he let the daydream sprawl in his mind as his hand sped up helplessly—Dean sweating and heaving above him, the ache of him inside him, smoothing his hair back and whispering in his ear, rock-salt rough, you feel so good Sammy you're doing so good I want you to come for me okay baby I want you to

The orgasm caught him off guard in the new body, the signs just different enough, and he watched with slack-jawed lust as Dean's dick spurted over his hand, over his shirt and fuck, Dean would notice, now he had to do laundry, or— he couldn't stop pumping it, it felt so good, all the way through his whole body until he was tingling with it, and way past what he thought was possible it still felt good and he was still jerking it, he couldn't stop, holy shit, what was wrong with Dean? What was wrong with him?

He was still hard and still leaking over the circle of his fingers, all of it slicked up and wet now, and he kept stroking it just because it could, because it made his face burn and his body twitch and it felt amazing, razor sharp but just short of wanting to stop and he kept jacking it and it felt like just-came and not-yet altogether, Dean was a fucking freak, if Sam could ever find a way to talk to him about this, he would, but there was nothing— nothing—

A sensation coursed through him that was less like coming than it was falling off a cliff and he let go of his dick in shock, overwhelmed, and only then did he realize he was coming again. It pulsed and dripped untouched against his leg, getting all over his boxers, a short sharp stab of unbearable pleasure that was over by the time he got his hand around it again.

He collapsed down to the bed, boneless and panting and hot all over, thinking vaguely of laundry and Katie and trying to keep the guilt of it all from killing him. What Dean didn't know wouldn't hurt him. 

He'd get up just as soon as he could move. He raised a numb hand to his (Dean's) mouth and touched it again, and dreamed. 

(read the full fic here)

[necros-writing-stuff]

Big brother Bailey pls. Using a horrible combination of praise and nice words or whatever but also, uh, the opposite of affirming? If that makes sense? Him saying things like 'You're only good for warming my cock.' and other hot nonsense that sort of hurts but makes you feel things. Basically, somewhat affectionate but twisted and fucked, obviously manipulative. Anyway I'd like to apologize in advance bye

You hadn't seen him in a while. You're both adults with demanding jobs, so it's to be expected. But as you sat in the chair across from his in his office, avoiding the intense eye-contact he had initiated as his cigarette drips ash onto the flat of the desk.

You can't look at him. Not when he's smirking like that, not when he's making the face he used to when he was balls-deep inside of you.

"Been a while," he starts, a hint of amusement in his voice. You look nice in that outfit. It suits you, hugs your body very nicely. Hell, you're looking very healthy. Very nice.

"Yeah, sorry. My boss has been working me to the bone."

Doesn't he know what that feels like. But he knows the lie from a mile off. He knows you. He knows you've been avoiding him since the two of you had that argument that led to you promising to never touch each other again. Afterall, siblings should be close like you two were. No, he shouldn't have had his head between your legs making you squeal, but he had.

And he wants to do it again. Because fuck him, he missed it.

He gets up and rounds the desk, coming to a stop in front of you. Still, you avoid his eyes, briefly looking up before focusing on the décor again. That won't do. Grasping your chin, he angles your head up, tutting at your shyness.

"You never used to be so bashful with me. Why start now? Just because you haven't had my cock in your mouth for a while."

You have to look away. It’s too much right now, he’s right. “Bailey! Don’t say it like that-”

“You liked when I was crass before, though.” His stare remains hard. The ends of his lips curl up, obviously amused. And then he lets go of your chin to unzip his pants.

“We said no more,” you insist, but Bailey ignores you to pull out his shaft and pump it till it’s hard.

“Like either of us meant it,” he laughs, gripping onto your hair and urging you close. The head rubs against your lips, Bailey looking down expectantly. Of course you have to flick your tongue out and lick the slit, already leaking pre. How long had he been wanting this?

His taste is familiar. His scent, how he feels, the gasp he lets out; all of it is something you know and find comforting. You’ve known it for so long, the two of you taking comfort in each other when the world had seemed to want you dead. 

You pull back and shuffle onto the floor, kneeling so that you can to it properly. Bailey’s grip holds onto your hair - not yet pulling, but firm. He’ll fuck your throat if he wants to, and there’s nothing you’d do to stop him. 

He’s always used you how he wished, and that meant that you had to develop some kind of tolerance to pain. Even when he was being gentle, Bailey tended to scratch, pull or bite. 

With a practised movement, you suck in the tip, your tongue swirling as your hands grip the shaft and balls to pump and fondle. Ever stone-faced, your big brother takes out his box of cigarettes and lights one up. ‘Oh, by all means, your majesty,’ you think, rolling your eyes. He just smiles, and pulls you down his cock further.

It’s been a while, so your gag reflex does kick in when he hits the back of your throat. However, you’ve had enough practise to know when to pull back and when to keep going. You trust yourself, you know your limits. And so does he. 

“That’s it. Good,” he groans with his head falling back, losing himself in his pleasure as his taste, smell and touch take over your senses. He’s all you know. He’s all you’ve ever known, but it is what you crave to make everything seem okay.

You’ve been so stressed without his affection, you forgot how much you needed it. You want his tongue on you. You want his teasing, his torturous pleasure to make you shiver and come undone. But Bailey isn’t in the mood to throw you a bone. He’s frustrated that you’ve been away for so long. He only wants to finish with your assistance.

Despite having earlier let you control how he fucks your throat, he grows impatient. Thrusting hard and deep, Bailey invades your throat and laughs when you splutter, your oesophagus spasming around his length. Not even your insistent banging on his thighs stop him.

“Now, now. Calm down, you’ll be fine,” he growls, with no sign of slowing down. A burning rises in your throat, but you know it well. You can do this.

With absolutely no warning what-so-ever, a salty taste hits your tongue as he finishes down your throat. With no fucking warning at all. The fucking bastard. 

“Bailey!” you screech once he pulls away. He only laughs and tucks his cock back into his pants. 

“Relax, you little brat. Give me a few minutes and I’ll give you a proper seeing to.”

[raviliuz]

Slytherin Boys' sexual orientation

Okay, let's start from the oldest so

Terence Higgs — bisexual

Honestly, Terence has never questioned himself about his orientation. His parents and older brother are really lovely, supportive people and he was raised to believe that it doesn't matters who do you love. So when he found out he is into both, he just shrugged it off, not finding it unusual. He has never actually come out, like "hey I have to tell you something... I'm bi". Nah, one day he just mentioned liking a boy in a conversation with parents

Marcus Flint — gay

Dude, it was hard for him. He's gay and he has been sure about that since he was 12 and had a GIANT crush on Charlie Weasley. Marcus himself is really tolerant, even though he doesn't look like he would, but his parents... Flint family is one of pureblood, noble families and Marcus is a huge disappointment for his parents. Not only does he have awful grades and can't even imagine working in Ministry but also turned out to be gay and stubborn enough to scare every girl his family introduced to him. But now he doesn't stay in touch with his family and his a happy person with an amazing boyfriend

Cassius Warrington — unlabeled

He was sure he's straight... Until he wasn't. He fell in love with a boy and it was harsh. Cass wanted to spend time with him and it was mutual. They became really close but Cassius still didn't find out he's attracted to him, not wanting to admit it even to himself. It caused a whole drama because Ernie (that boy) asked him out, being sure Warrington has feelings for him (like guys, he acted like they were already a couple). Cass blurted out he's not gay and fucked up pretty badly. Ernie was crying, Cassius realised he IS in love with him and was hating himself for hurting the boy. After a long talk with Terence, Cassius came to Ernie's dorm to explain his behaviour and say sorry. They are dating now. Cassius prefered to stay unlabeled, not really thinking about his orientation because naming it can be confusing and he doesn't want another crisis

Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole — straight

There is not much to talk about, they are straight. Never questioned it but they are really supportive and if one of them falls in love with a boy, he would just accept it. U know, being comfortable with your sexuality >> being confident about it

As a fun fact I can add that Lucian has no gag reflex which is a perfect topic for his friends to joke about. Terence once straight up said that he's wasting himself on being straight

Adrian Pucey — pansexual

Love is love, live in peace. Adrian, since he can remember, believes that gender doesn't matter. If a person is not a dickhead, he likes them and can love them. He did actually come out to his parents and friends but it's not much of a story, he has known they will support him and they do.

Graham Montague — i dont know how to name it

Okay, it's complicated. Graham doesn't think about his orientation at all. He doesn't really care about it, not liking naming things especially when there is no perfect term, which would describe him on point. He has been in love only with girls but he doesn't reject the thought of loving a boy or someone in-between. But the most important thing is that he doesn't seek for love. He doesn't find it necessary to be in a relationship, never trying to find a girlfriend or feeling the need to be in love. If he feels something, he will try it but it is not important for him. He would never use any type of dating app

Miles Bletchley — straight

He was questioning his orientation and wanted to try. Ernie (yes, the same Ernie from Cassius part, that's actually how Cass and Ernie got to know each other and became close) knowing how hard it is to be questioning orientation and seeking for true yourself, wanted to help. He and Miles started dating (it was clear for both of them that that can not work out and Miles might be straight and they were okay with it). Ernie was lovely but Miles became convinced he's straight, they are still close friends

Fun fact, Adrian was really opposed to the idea of dating someone to find out your orientation. He knows Miles made it clear and Ernie was okay with that, but Ade, being in love with his best friend, knows better than anyone that you cant choose who you love and you can fall in love knowing, you have no chances of dating that person. He was worried that Ernie, acting with Miles like a couple, might fall in love (it's not that hard when you are physically affectionate) and be hurt

Also — Draco bi, Theo Nott hetero-romantic, asexual, Blaise Zabini pan, Pansy Parkinson gay but likes making out with both, she just likes kissing and gender doesn't really matter, but yeah, loves girls

Well, it's longer than I thought it would be. Anyway, there was my school's day today and instead of lessons we have a topic day — every class had to choose a topic and dressed like that and decore classroom. My class did casino and it was awesome and I looked so hot and my tutor/main teacher did it with us and he was a dealer

I love my school (sometimes)

[loves124]

Neighbors ch.5

First of all,

I am so so so sorry that it took me so long to write this.

It's my first time writing smut, so I was a little intimidated by the task.

I hope it suits your all's tastes though :)

(if there are any errors please tell me, and if you guys have any recommendations please tell me as well!)

Thank you,

Love you,

Enjoy!

Warning: smut (18+ minors DNI)

(Shouta Aizawa x fem!reader)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pissed can't even begin to describe how I feel right now.

I was ready to be dicked down and he is talking about food?

The hell?

I make do with what I have though. I sit and enjoy the food infront of me, the meat is packed full of flavor and is so tender. The reviews about this place were spot on, I now know my new comfort restaurant for a while.

Currently, I am eating on the floor in front of the tv, my back is leaning into the couch. Aizawa finished eating a bit ago and moved himself to sit onto the couch, he has me comfortably positioned between his legs. It's nice I'll give him that, even if I was hoping for more.

I savor in the moment, it's something that I want to remember as a sweet memory. But I can't help but let my mind wander off a bit. Are we in a relationship now? What is this and what are we? Does he want me to be his girlfriend or am I just going to be a fuck buddy?

I'm really hoping that its more of a genuine relationship, even with how scary of a thought that is. I will make sure to keep myself more in check this time. If this is going to be more than a fling, I want to make sure equal efforts are put into the relationship. I don't want it to be as one sided as my previous relationship. I want a sense of respect and adoration to be exchanged between us, and Aizawa seems like the type of guy who could commit to that.

I finish up with my food and start to gather all of the trash to clean up. Shoving used napkins and disposable chopsticks into the, now empty, takeout containers. You both absolutely devoured this meal, there are no leftovers whatsoever.

The one thing that I'm a little nervous about is if we have any end of the night kissing. I literally just ate a bunch of meat along with broth, and I am fully sure that my breath stinks to high heaven at this moment.

"Aizawa?" I can see his head peak from where it is on the couch to my direction, he gives a soft smile as if asking me to continue.

"Sorry, but I'm just going to run back to my apartment to do something real quick, okay?" I head towards the door.

"Okay," he grins "I'm probably going to change."

I quickly run over and give myself a quick check in the mirror. I go the full mile: using mouthwash, brushing my teeth and tongue (going way back in my throat triggering my gag reflex with the toothbrush), going in again with mouthwash, using my lip scrub and putting on some chapstick.

You should wear your good underwear too.

Oh that's an idea. It doesn't mean anything is for sure going to happen but if it does, I wanna be prepared.

I look through my drawer and find some of my cuter "wear for special occasions" underwear. I throw them on real quick and give a glance to how they hug to the shape of my butt well. I giggle a bit to myself. They're so cute.

You shouldn't wear a bra. I mean he wants you to be your most comfortable self in his home right? Since when has a bra ever been comfortable?

point taken.

I make my way back, not sure whether or not I should knock for him to open the door. Is it okay for me to just walk back in? I want to play it safe and not seem like I'm being too intrusive too soon.

I'm probably overthinking this.

I knock anyways. A cold chill blowing through the air knocks into me, causing me to grasp myself for warmth.

Aizawa answers the door with an expression that's a mixture between amused and confused, "You could've just walked in you know?" he chuckles and he welcomes me inside, closing the door behind.

I rub my hands down my arms trying to create friction for warmth, "sorry, I just didn't wanna be rude or barge in."

"Barge in all you want, especially if it's damn cold outside" he rubs his hands up and down the sides of my arms. He lightly grasps my hand cupping them in between his and bringing them to his mouth blowing hot air into them, rubbing them a bit more for a little extra heat. He glances from my hands to my eyes, giving a soft smile he takes a second and kisses my hand.

Might have to go the the fucking ER cause my heart is melting right now.

Enveloping my hand in his, he leads me back to the couch before taking a seat in front of me. He grabs my hand and leads me to stand in between his legs, wrapping both arm securely around my waist and having his head pressed against my stomach. I smile and instinctively reach my rands down to run through his hair.

"I love your hair, -t's so pretty" I tell him while parting pieces of it to braid.

"I think about cutting it sometimes" he responds, but it's a bit muffled by my shirt.

I halt my movements, and with no hesitation I say "the day you do that is the day I stop coming over."

He responds with a deep chuckle, and I can feel it vibrate into my abdomen. "Well now it looks like I can never cut it." He moves his head to look up to meet my eyes and gives a big cheshire grin. He pulls me closer and closer to where I am now straddling him on the couch. His head is laid back a bit, his eyes are closed, and both of his hands are rubbing circles into the sides of my stomach.

Giving me butterflies galore. I continue to play with his hair, giving him different braids and then unraveling some of them and starting new ones. I let my hands roam a bit, landing on his ears. I start tucking stray strands of hair behind his ear. Grasping it lightly I start to massage it a little with my thumb, working up from the cartridge down to the lobe.

Aizawa gives me a light groan, his hands tensing a bit on my sides. I smile and continue my work, "-s this your sensitive spot?" I question.

"Careful princess" he chuckles amused smile plastered on his face. I softly giggle, I look and see that his eyes are still closed, I shift slightly and lean into him more putting my face closer to his ear. When I finally work up the nerve, I lightly graze my teeth over it before nipping slightly at the top. This causes the man under to grasp my hips firmly, pulling me in closer to him, "-t's a dangerous game your playing baby, I'm not sure if you're ready"

I hum into his neck, pressing kisses up and down his neck and raking the root of his hair with my free hand. I realize, and mentally mark where each spot on his neck causes him to tense and dig his nails into my hip. Noting that those are sensitive spots that I could probably use to my advantage later.

Aizawa is more responsive than I thought he would be, being granted with a couple of hums, moans, and groans from the man beneath me. Only making me more valiant in my efforts.

But it's still not enough.

As I continue my patchwork on his neck, I slowly start to roll my hips on his growing bulge. Feeling his fingers dig more into my sides and absolutely relishing in this feeling of control.

Aizawa's hands travel from my sides to my ass, earning a moan from me when he kneads it with this practical death grip. I roll into him harder with my hips, eliciting a slight gasp from the much needed friction. My head withdraws from its place in the crook of his neck, leaning back to make eye contact. My hand moves it position and slowly comes up to caress his face, thumb slowly and gently caressing over his features. Dragging it across his bottom lip and watching it bounce back into place.

My focus breaks a little when I notice that Aizawa was now watching me with very intense and lustful eyes.

"Can I- fuck- can I touch you sweetheart?"

I hum a yes along with a small nod. He moves his hand up and takes a gentle grip of my chin "I need words sweetheart."

"Yes, please, touch me" I plead.

In an instant the power dynamic shifts, he is 100% in control and I am 100% here for it. Aizawa drags my face in for a slow and sensual kiss, slowly and increasingly getting more and more heated. Gripping the back of my thighs he effortlessly lifts us both up, carrying me and moving our bodies towards the kitchen. I hiss a bit as my bare thighs touch the cold counter. Aizawa breaks from the kiss and I can feel his hands rub against the inside of my thighs traveling up slowly til they reach their destination.

He grips onto the waistband of the fabric, "Lift up sweetheart we need to get these off you."

Waisting no time I help him my lifting my body as he drags the fabric off of me before dismissively throwing it behind him. He looks at the black lace underwear with a mischievous grin,

"cute, but we won't be needing these either" he swiftly aids in stripping them off and setting them next to me on the counter. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears, I'm barely able to even focus at the moment. All I know is I feel very uncomfortable down there, and need some much needed attention that I'm currently not getting.

Aizawa slowly uses his hands and pry's me open for him, feeling a little insecure on full display.

"This all for me?" he grins, thumb dragging up my lips collecting the slick substance. I whine from the contact, nodding my head and hands gripping onto his shoulders.

"I thought we talked about this?" he chuckles darkly, "use your words sweetheart, now who are you this fucking wet for?" He drags his slick thumb over the bundle of nerves applying light pressure.

"you Aizawa" I huff out, hips bucking into his hand, trying to get some more pressure where I need it.

"Shouta, baby... call me Shouta" he tells me before attaching his lips back to mine. Applying pressure he promptly moves his finger in a circular motion, I whine into his mouth and he wastes no time using it to deeper the kiss.

I continue to buck my hips into his hands, eagerly trying to chase the high that I know is coming. (or should I say cumming?)

Shouta is gripping the outside one of my thighs in one hand and playing me like a fucking fiddle in the other. His mouth trailed from my mouth to my chin and neck, littering me with kisses and marks. He reaches one spot on my neck, and I'm not sure if it's from the overstimulation or not but I shiver as he grazes it with his mouth. He picks up on my response and sucks feverishly on the spot, I whimper out , "S-Shouta" ,and gasp when I feel his teeth graze and bite down over the spot. Giving it a lick and kiss he continues his actions, picking up the pace with his fingers adding more pressure.

I'm gripping onto his shoulders, anything for some sort of support. My breath is hot and heavy

"Awh look at my baby, what a pretty little mess from my fingers"

"S-houta, 'm need more"

He chuckles, shifting his arm from gripping my thigh to hooking it under one of his arms. He removes his hand from it efforts, bringing it up to my face.

"suck baby"

I grab onto his wrist with Bothe hand bringing it into my mouth and flattening my tongue against the pads of his fingers I soak them in my saliva.

"such a good girl for me"

I glance back up at his eyes and see that they are heavy lidded, but studying each and everyone of my movements. Pulling them out of my mouth you hear slight wet kiss as they leave my lips, and can see them glisten in the kitchen light.

He brings his hand back down, chuckling as he drags his fingers through my folds again.

"-fuck baby, didn't need to suck on my fingers huh" with his middle and rings fingers he drags up collecting my arousal, "you're fucking drooling down here baby."

He eases his fingers into me, my eyes screw shut and an 'o' forms from my mouth from the added pressure. It's a little uncomfortable

God I guess I haven't done this in a while, huh?

I moan and whimper into his shoulder and he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of me. He curls them a bit inside and rubs on that one good spot inside me. My hands latch themselves and hook around his neck. Body curling in at the building pressure in my gut.

I look up to him, face flushed and tears pricking at the sides of my eyes. "pleas-, please faster" I pant to him.

"baby wants me to go faster? hmm?" he quips, sly smile plastered on his face. I bite my bottom lip, frustrated and trying to make out my words but being interrupted by whimpers and he. starts a scissoring motion inside me, spreading me out.

Through whimpers I beg "please, S-Shou-ta."

He hikes up my leg that's hooked on his arm a bit more, "Oh, well, since you asked me so nicely"

I gasp and whine as he picks up the speed, I can hear the wet squelching sounds and his fingers mess around with me. I's doing nothing but turning me on more. I finally feel that heavy pressure weigh deep in my gut, scraping my nails against his shoulder as I release over his fingers.

He helps me ride it out, slowly pumping them in and out.

My body starts to cave a bit from exhaustion, and he releases his fingers bringing them to his mouth and moaning at the taste.

I feel my checks flush as his mouth is coated in, well me.

He dips his head down and gives me a kiss and I can taste myself on his lips.

I make my way to drop down from the counter, thinking of getting on my knees and helping him with the tent I see emerged in his pants. He halts my movements though dropping to his knees.

"babe, we’re not done yet. I’m still feeling a bit hungry,” he grins up at me.

Grabbing my hands he leads them to his hair. "Just try and keep my hair back for me, can you that for me sweetheart?"

I look down at him completely flushed give him a lazy and meek nod.

He grins, "good girl."

[cruisingthedemimonde]

America’s Gay Men in WW2

World War Two was a “National Coming Out” for queer Americans.

I don’t think any other event in history changed the lives of so many of us since Rome became Christian. 

For European queers the war brought tragedy.

The queer movement began in Germany in the 1860s when trans activist Karl Ulrichs spoke before the courts to repeal Anti-Sodomy laws. From his first act of bravery the movement grew and by the 1920s Berlin had more gay bars than Manhattan did in the 1980s. Magnus Hirschfeld’s “Scientific Humanitarian Committee” fought valiantly in politics for LGBT rights and performed the first gender affirmation surgeries. They were a century ahead of the rest of the world.

The Nazis made Hirschfeld - Socialist, Homosexual and Jew - public enemy number one.

The famous image of the Nazis burning books? Those were the books of the Scientific Humanitarian Committee. Case studies of the first openly queer Europeans, histories, diaries - the first treasure trove of our history was destroyed that day.

100,000 of us were charged with felonies. As many as 15,000 were sent to the camps, about 60% were murdered.

But in America the war brought liberation.

In a country where most people never even heard the word “homosexual” , historian John D’emilio wrote the war was “conducive both to the articulation of  a homosexual identity and to the more rapid evolution of a gay subculture. (24)” The war years were “a Watershed (Eaklor 68)”

Now before we begin I need to give a caveat. The focus of this first post is not lesbians, transfolk or others in our community. Those stories have additional complexity the story of cisgender homosexual men does not. Starting with gay men lets me begin in the simplest way I can, in subsequent posts I’ll look at the rest of our community.

Twilight Aristocracy: Being Queer Before the War

I want us to go back in time and imagine the life of the typical queer American before the war. Odds are you lived on a farm and simply accepted the basic fact that you would marry and raise children as surely as you were born or would die. You would have never seen someone Out or Proud. If you did see your sexuality or gender in contrary ways you had no words to express it, odds are even your doctor had never heard the term “Homosexual. In your mind it was just a quirk, without a name or possible expression.

In the city the “Twilight Aristocracy” lived hidden, on the margins and exposed their queerness only in the most coded ways. Gay men “Dropping pins” with a handkerchief in a specific pocket. Butch women with key chains heavy enough to show she didn’t need a man to carry anything for her. A secret language of “Jockers” and “Nances” “Playing Checkers” during a night out. There is a really good article on the queer vernacular here

And these were “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.”

In public one must act as straight as possible. Two people of the same gender dancing could be prosecuted. Cross dressing, even with something as trivial as a woman wearing pants, would run afoul of obscenity laws.

The only spaces we had for ourselves were dive bars, run by organized crime. But even then one must be sure to be circumspect, and act straight. Anyone could be an undercover cop. If a gaze was held to long, or lovers kissed in a corner the bar would be raided. Police saw us as worthy candidates for abuse so beatings were common and the judge would do all he could to humiliate you.

Now Michael Foucault, the big swinging french dick of queer theory, laid out this whole theory about how the real policing in a society happens inside our heads. Ideas about sin, shame, normalcy, mental illness can all be made to control people, and the Twilight Aristocracy was no different.

While cruising a park at night, or settled on the sofa with a lifelong lover, the thoughts of Priests and Doctors haunted them. “Am I living in Sin? Am I someone God could love?” “Is this healthy? Have I gone mad? Is this a true love or a medical condition which requires cure?”

There was no voice in America yet healing our self doubt, or demanding the world accept us as we are. And that voice, the socialist Harry Hay, did not come during the war, but it would come shortly after directly because of it.

Johnny Get Your Gun… And are you now or ever been a Homosexual?

For the first time in their lives millions of young men crossed thousands of miles from their home to the front.

But before they made that brave journey they had another, unexpected and often torturous journey. The one across the doctor’s office at a recruiting station.

In the nineteenth century queerness moved from an act, “Forgive me Father I have sinned, I kissed another man” to something you are, “The homosexual subspecies can be identified by certain physical and psychological signs.” 

These were the glory days of patriarchy and white supremacy, those who transgressed the line between masculine and feminine called the whole culture into question. So doctors obsessed themselves with queerness, its origins, its signs, its so called catastrophic racial consequences and its cure.

“Are you a homosexual?” doctors asked stunned recruits. 

If you were closeted but patriotic, you would of course deny the accusation. But the doctor would continue his examination by checking if you were a “Real Man.”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Did you like playing sports as a kid?”

If you passed that, the doctor would often try and trip you up by asking about your culture.

“Do you ever go basketeering?” he would ask, remembering to check if there was any lisp or effeminacy in your voice.

Finally if the doctor felt like it he could examine your body to see if you were a member of the homosexual subspecies. 

Your gag reflex would be tested with a tongue depressor. Another hole could be carefully examined as well.

Humiliating enough for a straight man. But for a gay recruit the consequences could be life threatening.

Medical authorities knew homosexuals were weak, criminal and mad. To place them among the troops would weaken unit cohesion at the very least, result in treachery at the worst. In civilian life doctors had much the same thing to say. 

The recruit needed a cure. And a doctor was always ready. With talk therapy, hypnosis, drugs, electroshock and forced surgeries of the worst kinds there was always a cure ready at hand.

Thankfully the doctors were not successful in their task, one doctor wrote “for every homosexual who was referred or came to the Medical Department, there  were five or ten who never were detected. (d’Emilio 25)”

Here’s the irony though, by asking such pointed and direct questions to people closeted to themselves it forced them to confront their sexuality for the first time. 

Hegarty writes, “As a result of the screening policies, homosexuality became part of wartime discourse. Questions about homosexual desire and behavior ensured that every man inducted into the armed forces had to confront the possibility of homosexual feelings or experiences. This was a kind of massive public education about homosexuality. Despite—and be-cause of—the attempts to eliminate homosexuals from the military, men with same-sex desires learned that there were many people like themselves (Hegarty 180)”

And then it gave them a golden opportunity to have fun.

The 101st Airborn - Homosocial and Homosexual

“Homosocial” refers to a gender segregated space. And they were often havens for gay men. The YMCA for example really was a place for young gay men to meet.

Now the government was already aware of the kind of scandalous sexual behaviour young men can get up to when left to themselves. Two major government programs before the war, the Federal Transient Program and the Civilian Conservation Corps focused on unattached young men, but over time these spaces became highly suspect and the focus shifted to helping family men so as to avoid giving government aid to ‘sexual perversion’ in these homosocial spaces.

But with the war on there was no choice but to put hundreds of thousands of young men in their own world. All male boot camps, all male bases, all male front lines. 

The emotional intensity broke down the barriers between men and the strict enforcement of gendered norms.

On the front the men had no girlfriend, wife or mother to confide in. The soldier’s body was strong and heroic but also fragile. Straight men held each other in foxholes and shared their emotional vulnerability to each other. Gender lines began to blur as straight men danced together in bars an action that would result in arrest in many American cities.

Bronski writes, “Men were now more able to be emotional, express their feelings, and even cry. The stereotypical “strong, silent type,” quintessentially heterosexual, that had characterized the American Man had been replaced with a new, sensitive man who had many of the qualities of the homosexual male. (Bronski 152)”

Homosexual men discovered in this environment new freedoms to get close to one another without arousing suspicion.

“Though the military  officially maintained an anti-homosexual stance, wartime conditions nonetheless offered a protective covering that facilitated interaction  among gay men (d’Emilio 26)”

Bob Ruffing, a chief petty officer in the Navy described this freedom as follows, ‘When I first got into the navy—in the recreation hall, for instance— there’d be  eye contact, and pretty soon you’d get to know one or two people and kept branching out. All of a sudden you had a vast network of friends, usually through  this eye contact thing, some through outright cruising. They could get away with  it in that atmosphere. (d’Emilio 26) ”

Another wrote about their experience serving in the navy in San Diego, “‘Oh, these are more my kind of people.’ We became very chummy, quite close, very fraternal, very protective of each other. (Hegarty 180)”

Some spaces within the army became queer as well. The USO put on shows for soldiers, and since they could not find women to play parts, the men often dressed in drag. “impersonation. For actors and audiences, these performances were a needed relief from the stress of war. For men who identified as homosexual, these shows were a place where they could, in coded terms, express their sexual desires, be visible, and build a community. (Bronski 148)”

“Here you see three lovely “girls”

 With their plastic shapes and curls.

 Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?

 We’ve got glamour and that’s no lie;

 Can’t you tell when we swish by?

 Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?”

The words camp and swish being used in the gay subculture and connected to effeminate gay men.

I would have to assume, more than a few transwomen gravitated to these spaces as well.

Even the battlefield itself provided opportunities for gay fraternization. A beach in Guam for example became a secret just for the gay troops, they called it Purple Beach Number 2, after a perfume brand.

This homoerotic space was not confined to the military, but spilled out into civilian life as well.

Donald Vining was a pacifist who stated bluntly his homosexuality to the recruitment board as his mother needed his work earnings, and if you wanted be a conscientious objector you had to apply to go to an objector’s camp. He became something of a soldier chaser, working in the local YMCA and volunteering at the soldier’s canteen in New York he hooked up with soldiers still closeted for a night of passion but many more who were open about who they were. 

After the war he was left with a network of gay friends and a strong sense of belonging to a community. It was dangerous tho, he was victim of robberies he could not report because they happened during hook ups, but police were always ready to raid gay bars when they were bored. “It was obvious that [the police] just had to make a few arrests to look busy,” he protested in his diary.  “It was a travesty of justice and the workings of the police department (d’Emilio 30).״

Now it might seem odd he was able to plug into a community like that, but over the war underground gay bars appeared across the country for their new clientele. Even the isolated Worcester Mass got a gay bar.

African American men, barred from combat on the front lines, were not entirely barred from the gay subculture in the cities. For example in Harlem the jazz bar Lucky Rendevous was reported in Ebony as whites and blacks “steeped in the swish jargon of its many lavender costumers. (Bronski 149)”

The Other War: Facing Homophobia

“For homosexual soldiers, induction into the military forced a sudden confrontation with their sexuality that highlighted the stigma attached to it and kept  it  a  matter  of special  concern (d’Emilio 25)”

“They were fighting two wars: one for America, democracy, and freedom; the other for their own survival as homosexuals within the military organization. (Eaklor 68)”

Once they were in, they fell under Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: “Any person subject to this chapter who engages in unnatural carnal copulation with another person of the same or opposite sex or with an animal is guilty of sodomy. Penetration, however slight, is sufficient to complete the offense.”

Penalties could include five years hard labour, forced institutionalization or fall under the dreaded Section 8 discharge, a stamp of mental instability that would prevent you from finding meaningful employment in civilian life.

Even if one wanted nothing to do with fulfilling their desires it was still essential to become hyper aware of your presentation and behaviour in order to avoid suspicion.

Coming Home to Gay Ghettos

“The veterans of World War II were the first generation of gay men and women to experience such rapid, dramatic, and widespread changes in their lives as homosexuals. Bronski 154”

After the war many queer servicemen went on to live conventionally heterosexual lives. But many more returned to a much queerer life stateside.

Bob Ruffing would settle down in San Francisco. The city has always been a safe harbour for queer Americans, made more so as ex servicemen gravitated to its liberated atmosphere. The port cities of New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles became the prime destinations to settle. Vining’s partner joined him in New York, where they both immersed themselves in the gay culture.

Other soldiers moved to specific neighborhoods known for having small gay communities. San Francisco’s North Beach, the west side of Boston’s Beacon Hill, or New York’s Greenwich Village. Following the war the gay populations of these cities increased dramatically.

The cities offered parks, coffee houses and bars which became queer spaces. And drag performance, music and comedy became features of this culture.

These veterans also founded organizations just for the queer soldiers. In Los Angeles the Knights of the Clock provided a space for same sex inter racial couples. In New York the Veterans Benevolent Association would often see 400-500 homosexuals appear at its events.

A number of books bluntly explored homosexuality following the war, such as The Invisible Glass which tells the story of an inter racial couple in Italy, 

“With a slight moan Chick rolled onto his left side, toward the Lieutenant. His finger sought those of the officer’s as they entwined their legs. Their faces met. The breaths, smelling sweet from wine, came in heavy drawn sighs. La Cava grasped the soldier by his waist and drew him tightly to his body. His mouth pressed down until he felt Chick’s lips part. For a moment they lay quietly, holding one another with strained arms.”

Others like Gore Vidal’s The City and the Pillar (1948), Fritz Peters’s The World Next Door (1949), and James Barr’s Quatrefoil (1950) explored similar themes.

In 1948 the Kinsey Report would create a public firestorm by arguing that homosexuality is shockingly common. In 1950 The Mattachine Society, a secretive group of homosexual Stalinists launched America’s LGBT movement.

References:

Michael Bronski “A Queer History of the United States”

John D’emilio “Coming Out Under Fire”

Vivki L Eaklor “Queer America: A GLBT History of America”

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

The Lesbians

In 1947 General Eisenhower told a purple heart winning Sargeant Johhnie Phelps, “It's come to my attention that there are lesbians in the WACs, we need to ferret them out”.

Phelps replied, “"If the General pleases, sir, I'll be happy to do that, but the first name on the list will be mine."

Eisenhower’s secretary added “"If the General pleases, sir, my name will be first and hers will be second."

Join me again May 17 to hear the story of America’s Lesbians during the war.

[cinnaminsvga]

intermission • v | moonshine

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. jihope + seokjin) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: homoerotic tension (?), delulu shippers, seokjin is a nosy motherfucker (as per usual) → words: 7.3K → a/n: it’s been,, ten million years,, sorry to my fox rain readers but let’s just say my brain has been a smoothie for a while but now!! it is still a smoothie but perhaps a little chunkier ;w; anyway, we love jihope in this household,, and seokjin,, is seokjin,, we love him too

— • masterlist | prev | intermission v | next • —

In a small studio apartment somewhere close to your university campus, notoriously handsome and oh-so-talented Kim Seokjin wakes up in cold sweat, his heart beating a mile a second and a chill running down his spine. “There’s been a disturbance in the force,” he mutters lowly to himself, a drop of sweat making its way down his razor-sharp jaw.

He had been in the midst of a wondrous dream wherein he, the universe’s protagonist, was being showered with praise and adoration after the sensational debut of his autobiographical documentary. Men and women alike were at his feet, peppering his heaven-sent toesies with the worship that he deserves. Everyone was there, even you had been there, his self-declared rival! But just as you were about to reach the head of the line, lips puckered and ready to go, Seokjin was ripped away from his kissies without warning.

You, of course, were not the reason for his mind-bending, earth-shattering, cock-jizzing premature arousal from his slumber. No –– Kim Seokjin does not wake up prematurely, for every moment of his life is a beacon of perfection. Only events of the most catastrophic order were able to wake him up from his slumber, so whatever cosmic force caused him to awaken must’ve been no joke. He had to take this seriously, as it might mean thousands of lives were at stake.

Seokjin jumps to his feet with a flourish, his entire body oozing grace, so much so that it would make any grown ballerina cry. He rushes to unplug his phone from its charger, unlocking it and immediately going to search through his social media accounts. As he scans through the tweets and posts, his well-trained eye sifts through the dreary and the mundane, his only intent to find whatever it is that might forewarn him of a natural disaster.

His follower count is stable. His engagement graphs show that his posts are at an all-time high. To any other novice, this might have been a sign that his gut feeling had been nothing but a fluke. Surely, nothing is wrong in the universe? But no, Seokjin is not some mere amateur! He wouldn’t be as successful at being a prick celebrity social media influencer if he didn’t have the reflexes that he did. He has to keep searching and pick out any little thing that might indicate that something was amiss.

It takes a hot minute (three hours to be exact) for Seokjin to find it, but he does. And oh, his intuition had been right: this was a level nine catastrophe. To give you an understanding of what that might mean, then here’s some context to scale: a level eight catastrophe would be if you ever found that he might have had a crush on you when you first met each other; a level ten catastrophe would be if Kim Seokjin lost all his followers overnight and was forced to relinquish his title as an Instagram baddie. So yes, level nine was dire, if not almost life-threatening.

The evidence?

...

...

To the untrained eye, it might look like nothing. But to a delulu devoted JiHope stan? This was a living nightmare.

Oh god, the signs are all there! The context, the timestamps, the emojis… They all made sense in Seokjin’s complicated maze of a mind. Like a seasoned detective, he’s able to connect all the dots to make a valid hypothesis that yes, JiHope is in danger of breaking up*.

[Addendum: Please note that JiHope has never dated before. Kim Seokjin is a lunatic and the constraints of reality do not apply to those of his kind. Please read the rest of this report with that in mind. Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

“FUCK!” he exclaims (with feeling), dropping to his knees as he cries (with feeling). The signs are all there: something is causing a rift between his two favorite homos* from staying together and he, as the chosen one, must do something to save them before it’s too late.

[Addendum: Well, technically he’s right, but Jimin is bisexual at the very least, but that’s a matter of semantics… But that’s pretty much as “factual” as Kim Seokjin is ever going to get, so let’s take that as a blessing. Noted by: Min Yoongi (again).]

He can’t jump headfirst into this madness, however. He needs a plan; not only did it need to be foolproof, but it also had to be undeniably fabulous and downright heinous. Seokjin never did see himself as the morally right hero from those dreary Marvel comic books despite the allure of their skintight spandex and ostentatious capes. No–– Seokjin is of a higher calling, one where the hero needs to pull his dirtiest tricks in order to save the day.

Which is why Seokjin finds no error in his ways when he decides to stalk Jimin and Hoseok throughout their day, trying to pinpoint which clogs in his JiHope machine need oiling and lubing.

Nothing is ever too much for Kim Seokjin. In fact, he’ll go out of his way to follow them to their homes if he has to, but luckily (for Jimin and Hoseok), he doesn’t need to go that far. In fact, it’s a downright fucking miracle that his intuition from this morning had been correct, made apparent by hour ten (10) of his stalking misadventures:

It’s nearing five in the afternoon. Kim Seokjin’s patience and determination has been put to the test before, but never like this. He could never ever imagine himself setting foot in this damned place, what with its overflowing abundance of knowledge, nerds, and public displays of integrity. He nearly gagged the moment he took one step in the library, and not even the thought of seeing Jimin and Hoseok together was enough to settle the bile climbing up his throat.

To make matters worse, you were there too. Not that Seokjin particularly cares (he does) that you are, but there is something… annoying about seeing you just sitting there, teaching Hoseok like it was normal*.

[Addendum: It is fucking normal. As per usual, Kim Seokjin is a dipshit who has never worked a day in his life and does not understand the notion of helping others study for their courses. To this day, I can’t understand how he’s passing his classes, though I’m kind of afraid of finding out how. Some things are better left… unsolved. Noted by: Min “I’m-not-paid-enough-for-this” Yoongi.]

He had been busy following Jimin around before this, but he was forced to change targets when one of his adoring fans had distracted him while asking for an autograph, causing him to lose track of Jimin entirely. It was of little consequence, however, given that he knows that Jimin was also going to be tutored by you later on anyway, so he just hopes that Jimin doesn’t do something stupid while he’s out of sight for the time being.

Normally, he’d try to find out where Jimin was going next, but the hardest part about following Jimin is that he didn’t have a fixed schedule like Hoseok did. Even Seokjin didn’t quite understand what Jimin was majoring in, and he prides himself in knowing every single detail of both their lives. But for now, it didn’t matter; at least Seokjin was left with one schedule to follow, so it made sense to just let Jimin be and go to wherever Hoseok was probably at the moment.

When Seokjin had finally located him walking out of his last class, Hoseok hadn’t appeared all that different from his usual demeanor. A bit dazed maybe, but that could be brushed off due to the essay he had to cram for that morning (a fact that Seokjin had learned through various connections). He walks lazily to the nearby library where he would be meeting you, and with a heavy heart, Seokjin follows suit.

You were already there when the two of them arrive. Seokjin is lucky when your eyes train automatically on Hoseok, ignoring him completely. In any other scenario, Seokjin would’ve felt incredibly scorned by this. He would’ve immediately stomped over to where you sat, making sure to announce his presence to you and everyone else within a fifty-foot radius. But today was not an ordinary day, so Seokjin is forced to hold his tongue and save his bitchin’ for another day. And so, he quietly slinks away to a seat a few tables away, his contemptuous aura causing all the previously seated students to vacate the table in a rush.

Much to his chagrin, it feels like Seokjin has just wasted an hour as he watches the two of you being productive (Seokjin lets out a shudder), not even bothering to film your tutoring session due to how little information he was getting. The only point of interest is how pissed off you seem, though it’s not like Seokjin has ever witnessed you in any other state anyway. He watches as Hoseok’s sunny disposition slowly chips away at your foul mood, and to his awe and surprise, sees you crack a smile just as the hour was about to pass.

It isn’t like that was important to Seokjin, though. So what if he noticed that you were happier with Hoseok around? It’s not every day that Seokjin catches you in a good mood (and he reluctantly admits that it’s always nice to see you smiling, even if his presence unfailingly causes a deep-set frown to appear on your lips.)

That was of little importance, he told himself.

Seokjin had hoped that when Hoseok’s tutoring session would end that he might manage to see him and Jimin cross paths. Unfortunately, it seems like Hoseok has other plans as he quickly shuffles his things into his bag, looking apologetic as he waves a hasty goodbye to you. You and Seokjin gaze at the empty spot he has left in his wake, both of you knowing even without Hoseok’s admittance that this rift between him and Jimin was far deeper than either of you had imagined.

Seeing Hoseok so skittish has a terrible effect on one’s psyche, and Seokjin feels despair growing in the pit of his stomach at what might be an unsalvageable situation for the JiHope community.

“Nonsense!” his inner-voice (that suspiciously sounds like you) chastises, whacking him with a proverbial rolled-up newspaper. “There is no such thing as unsalvageable when it comes to the magnificent Kim Seokjin!”

“You’re right,” Seokjin says (out loud), slamming his fists on the table. The jittery librarian’s assistant by the front desk jumps up in surprise, but Seokjin pays him no mind.

Seokjin is so immersed by his own internal monologue that he doesn’t notice the aforementioned librarian’s assistant leave his station with a small handwritten note clutched tightly in his hand. Seokjin also doesn’t notice when he speaks to you with pink dusting the apples of his cheeks before returning to his desk, sans note*.

[Addendum: I’M SO MAD WHY DOESN’T ANYONE NOTICE FUCKING JUNGKOOK??? NEXT TIME I SEE SEOKJIN IT’S ON FUCKING SIGHT HOW DARE HE NOT SEE MY LIL BABY WALK TO HIS ***** AND FULFIL ALL MY HOPES AND DREAMS? I’M GONNA KILL YOU KIM SEOKJIN! (Angrily) Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

It doesn’t take long for Jimin to arrive, and he’s kind of hard to miss with how loud his entrance is. Seokjin nods in approval as the younger enters the drab library with an astounding flourish, complete with his hair gently flowing in the (nonexistent) wind and hips swaying to the (nonexistent) beat.

None of this out of the ordinary, especially with how unfazed the general library populace was to Jimin’s commotion. What is a little different, however, is the beaming, oversaturated, downright diabetic smile on his face, complete with his signature eyes creased into their cute little crescents.

It isn’t that Jimin wasn’t a naturally sunny person; on the contrary, his kind and gregarious personality is what drew Seokjin into shipping him with Hoseok in the first place. But there was something about this level of overflowing giddiness that is a bit… disconcerting, for lack of a better word.  

Even you appeared to be dumbstruck by Jimin’s odd mood. You squint curiously at Jimin, taking his worksheets from his hands without another word. Seokjin covertly takes out his phone to pretend to take a selfie, but proceeds to tape the whole tutoring session for him to review later that night. He strains his ears to try and catch the bits and pieces of your conversation with Jimin, but he’s left high and dry when he realizes that you were the type who actually liked to whisper at the library, further foiling his plans.

“Dammit,” he mutters to himself, hastily shoving his “textbooks” into his sling bag as he moves to a table slightly closer to the two of you. He doesn’t bother unpacking them again on the table, foregoing the pretense that he was actually there to “study” when in fact he had goals much loftier than those of an ordinary university student.

He carefully adjusts his camera, trying his best to stay out of your and Jimin’s view. He cranes his head forward as far as he can, face crumpling (handsomely) from the strain.

Seokjin had missed it when he was busy relocating to his better position, but it seems like you had finally gotten fed up with Jimin’s strange behavior. He only sees Jimin look shocked by your irritability, but that quickly fades away as his previously dopey smile comes back at full force. Knowing you, your eye is probably twitching right now, but Seokjin attributes that to the stick permanently stuck up your ass.

“It’s, umm…” Jimin looks extremely bashful all of a sudden, and Seokjin makes sure to zoom in on his face for better analysis later. There’s a slight pause, and both you and Seokjin wait for Jimin to continue. “Do you know… uh…” He takes a deep breath, blushing all the while. “Y/N, you know Lee Sera, right?”

Since you’re faced away from Seokjin, he doesn’t get to see what type of reaction you might be sporting on your face. He has a guess though, and that’s mostly because he already knows what Lee Sera means to you.

Seokjin only just saw the forum post this morning when he was going through his social media. Since he was one of the only people who actually knew you were the author, he’d known from the get-go that Lee Sera had probably written that post revealing herself as the author as a way to get easy clout. Nothing annoyed Seokjin more than people getting more famous than him, so he was honestly a strongly-worded call-out post away from revealing the truth to the masses, but was eventually stopped by the thought of your desperate face from days ago.

As much as Seokjin was a slut for drama, even he isn’t that mean. He can be mean in other ways, such as by putting an ugly filter on your face as he continues to videotape you without your consent. Case in point:

“What?” you say, almost shouting. Unbeknownst to you, there is a pooping baby currently superimposed on your forehead. The film looks shaky at best, but that’s all because of how hard Seokjin is shaking from trying not to laugh.

“Do you know if she likes anyone?” he replies, still dreamy. The AR pooping baby is also on his head, but Jimin manages to pull the look off.

Seokjin waits for your explosion to come, but he underestimates your self-control because he completely misses the next few words you say from how calmly and quietly you speak, though he only imagines that you must be on the way to a mental breakdown soon enough.

The calm before the storm, Seokjin thinks giddily to himself. He could always post your mental breakdown on Youtube for a couple thousand views. C’mon… let’s go viral, baby!

Jimin watches you eagerly from the sides and waits for your response, but you’re too busy short-circuiting right in front of him to give one. Seokjin almost feels sorry for you, but he’s too busy trying not to burst into laughter as it is. God, you’re such a fucking sad mess.

Lucky for you, your timer goes off to signal the end of your tutoring session, and Seokjin notices the way your shoulders slacken with relief. And Jimin seems to have forgotten all about his query because he’s started to pack his things already, humming softly to himself. Once he finishes, he pulls out his phone to read something on his screen, tapping away through his social media as he waits for you to say goodbye.

You’re too busy packing away your own things that you don’t notice when Jimin’s eyes begin to bug out, his mouth dropping and his nostrils flaring with the intensity of his breathing. When he scrolls a little bit further down, he lets out a sharp gasp, catching you and Seokjin off guard.

Jimin has just seen the post, didn’t he? Either that, or he saw porn on his timeline, though Seokjin doesn’t think that would excite Jimin as much as the former would. You seem to guess the same, judging by how stiff you become at his exclamation.

“Y/N! Y/N, she–– she’s––!”

Your fight or flight instincts activate, and Seokjin has to scramble after you as you powerwalk out of the library, desperate to get away from Jimin and his revelation. Unfortunately, you’re not entirely in your best shape right now, so it would be an absolute miracle if you were ever to outpace Park “abs of steel” Jimin. Jimin continues to titter beside you, unaware of the waves of tension running rivers down your form.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she? And she’s so humble to have kept quiet about the whole thing, too. Wah, she’s so…” Seokjin hears Jimin say, and he has to stop himself from snorting at how blatantly love blind Jimin seems to be. Seokjin isn’t anywhere near as good as you when it comes to writing (though he hates to admit it), but even he knows that Lee Sera isn’t as capable as you are. Jimin must really be a sucker for bitches in tight skirts and basic nude pumps because honestly… Why have the knock-off when you can have real Gucci?*

[Addendum: Hey it’s me again… Just wanted to say… Why is Seokjin lowkey kinda making me wanna ship him with Y/N… This is for real weird… Stop this… I’m scared… Noted by: Confused Min Yoongi.]

“I never really paid it much attention, but now that I’m rereading the poem… she’s so talented.” Jimin continues to gush, and you look half a second away from painting the walls with your vomit. Your head is bowed, so you don’t notice when the library doors open and a student in a loose white shirt and flowy black pants enters, looking as far removed from the environment as Seokjin did. “It’s no wonder it blew up so much, she’s such a gifted––”

“Who’s such a gifted what?” the new intruder asks. Kim Taehyung stops right in front of you in all his indie glory, and the sudden apparition of another of one of your “muses” must have frayed your unraveling mind even further. Seokjin is already turning his camera to your face with a dramatic pan left zoom, the pooping baby filter still on your head. It slips a turd onto your grimacing face.

Jimin, ever the sweet himbo, has already forgotten about you and instead rushes over to Taehyung with the news. “Tae! The author of that poem you’re always raging about––”

Seokjin watches with interest as Taehyung elbows Jimin strongly in the gut, a strong blush coating his cheeks.

Jimin continues, undeterred. “The author of the poem, it’s Lee Sera! I know I always ignored you when you talked about it, but now…” Seokjin has already stopped listening in favor of watching the way Taehyung’s expression slowly morphs from bashful embarrassment to careful indifference. His eyebrows raise even further when Taehyung’s gaze sweeps towards you, unwavering despite the animated prattlings of his best friend beside him.

Inch-resting… Inch-resting indeed…

Seokjin leaves then, not wanting to be caught by any of you as he slinks away unseen. He stops his recording, an array of thoughts swimming through his head as he tries to piece together the puzzle in front of him. He’ll need to follow you, Jimin, and Hoseok again, and he knows in the pit of his stomach that the tsunami is fast approaching.

x x x x x

And so, Seokjin follows the three of you around like a parasite, waiting for any of you to drop the ball on him. It’s the next Monday now, and he’s still not any closer to witnessing the “climax” of his JiHope prophecy. While he is aware that Lee Sera is undoubtedly going to be the catalyst for breaking his ult ship, he can’t exactly fix the problem unless something wrong happens first.

Of course, he could always slip a laxative into Sera’s disgusting tummy tea when she isn’t looking, but Seokjin finished using all of them up when he slipped them into your breakfast a few weeks ago. Plus, drinking tummy tea is punishment enough, so he’ll hold his punches for now.

Seokjin has a strong feeling that today is going to be the day where something finally shifts. He doesn’t know why he thinks this, though he likes to tell himself it’s a God-given gift of JiHope senses, but he digresses.

He’s starting to lose hope in his trusty JiHope senses, however, when he watches another fruitless tutoring session between you and Hoseok. Man, if not for the fact that Seokjin was a delulu JiHope shipper, he’d totally be the type to shove Hoseok down the toilet in middle school. That dude… he’s too smart and studious for him, and Seokjin is always threatened by anyone who can get a score above 4 in an exam.

Hoseok leaves in a rush as per usual, and Seokjin has since figured out that it wasn’t because the English major was keen on rushing back home to jack off. Hoseok’s eyes search around frantically as he exits the library, like he’s afraid of running into a certain someone. It causes Seokjin’s grip on his pencil prop to tighten, so much so that he snaps it in half when he sees it happen for the third session in a row.

The situation in the JiHope fandom is much worse than he can ever imagine, and Seokjin resolves himself to fix it no matter what. He’ll even ask you for help, if worst comes to worst.

Hoseok practically leaves a dust trail in his wake, hurriedly vacating the premises just as you say goodbye. Just as Hoseok leaves, Jimin enters the scene with his signature bubbly laughter echoing through the rows of shelves. Seokjin turns his head towards the sound, but he can feel something is amiss already. There’s… someone with him.

I can smell the cheap drug store perfume all the way from here. Seokjin sneers to himself, crinkling his nose as the sound of another pair of footfalls confirms his suspicions right away. When he turns to look at you, the look of utter rage and disbelief on your face is almost enough to make him forget about the horrendous stench of Lee Sera.

Sera tears herself away from Jimin when she catches sight of you, and Seokjin’s heart clenches when he sees the utter look of confusion replacing the grin on Jimin’s face. She was just draped over Jimin’s arm a few seconds ago, but the complete 180 definitely must have bewildered the poor lovesick fool.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Lee Sera craved the attention she was being given after coming out as the “author” of the poem, though Seokjin finds her neediness distasteful. As someone who loved being in the limelight, Seokjin didn’t go around taking other people’s credit for his success! Clearly, he was the better one (as he always is in any situation).

Anyway, point stands: you look like you’re about to shit yourself from anger. Seokjin isn’t really listening to the conversation between the two of you, instead focusing on both of your body languages. Sera is playing the role of the remorseful peasant, begging for reconciliation from you, the ireful landlady who refuses to watch another second of her quivering lip.

It’s all very dramatic. Even though Seokjin is mostly recording the fight for analysis purposes, he’s probably going to keep the video for archival purposes as well. The rage, the hurt, the chaos… Seokjin could turn this entire narrative into its own wildly popular musical! He would obviously play himself as the omnipotent, all-seeing jack-of-all-trades, and you’d probably be played by some hag he can cast from the street. Seokjin can almost feel the Tony award jutting up his ass.

Slap! Seokjin jerks to attention and his dreams of his musical fade as he watches, slack-jawed, at the aftermath of your rage. The sound reverberates so loudly that Seokjin feels his ears ringing. In his surprise, he instinctively turns off his camera, ready to go and join stop the fight. Before he can take a step forward, however, a whirlwind shoves past him in a blur, but Seokjin already knows from his lean form that Hoseok had come to intervene. Seokjin hadn’t even noticed the lilac-haired boy was still around the library, but it doesn’t matter now that he’s here to save the day like the bishounen protagonist that he is.

Hoseok holds you back, but it does nothing to quell your anger. “How could you say that to him!” you cry, arms struggling to free themselves from Hoseok to throttle Sera. You look a bit like a rabid animal, teeth bared as you squirm in Hoseok’s hold.

To the side, Jimin chokes up in silence. He’s begun to regain his senses, limbs shifting as he prepares to escape. Seokjin doesn’t miss the shine in his eyes, tears forming and threatening to fall. He turns on his feel, high-tailing out of there without another word.

Hoseok says something into your ear and you nod mindlessly in response. He lets you go, watches as you chase after Jimin. His jaw is set, fists clenched by his sides, but he doesn’t make a move to follow. He takes one last look at Sera’s bamboozled expression, tuts angrily to himself, and walks away in the opposite direction.

Seokjin is speechless.

What the fuck was that? Seokjin isn’t a stranger to the current happenings of your sad love heptagon, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It probably could have been solved much sooner if you just confessed to him already, but he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the drama*.

[Addendum: She literally does not have a crush on Seokjin. If she did, I’d block her immediately. I didn’t raise Y/N for her to fall in love with this psychopath. PLEASE. Signed: Min Yoongi.]

No, Seokjin isn’t confused about the whole Sera thing. What he’s more confused about is why Hoseok isn’t going to comfort his boyfriend lover homie like he’s supposed to! Something must have caused a rift in their friendship, and Seokjin is determined to find out and fix this mess once and for all! There’s no need to fear for Seokjin is here!*

[Addendum: “Hallelujah!” said no one ever. I hate this dude. Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

x x x x x

After spending an inexcusable amount of time planning and plotting later that night, Seokjin comes to campus early the next day to put his incredibly profound plan into motion. Lucky for Seokjin, he’s equipped with a myriad of skills that go beyond that of acting and being a nuisance, so it comes as no surprise that he’s quite handy with Photoshop. He uses his Amazing Incredible Fantastic Photoshop skillz to their limits to print out a dozen or so fake posters for a new dance exhibition on Saturday.

Why? Because Seokjin is a genius of course! He knows for certain that Jimin will want to attend the exhibition to cheer himself up after the whole Sera debacle. He always did like watching the university’s dance club from the windows, always wistfully looking but never joining even though he COULD dance if he WANTED to but of course he wouldn’t! Because his beloved Hoseokie-hyung wouldn’t be there to be his partner and it’s all very sad and romantic, yadayadayada… Long story short, Seokjin is whipped for this BL trope and he will die on this hill if he has to!

However, Hoseok is going to be a bit harder to bait... He’d never be caught dead attending a dance exhibition, so Seokjin has to scavenge the last remaining brain cells he has to think of an event that Hoseok would want to go to. He settles on making a fake poster for a book signing by Pi Ness Hughman that is “mandatory” for all English Literature majors to attend. He even goes the whole way and makes a spoof e-mail to send to Hoseok, and no, Seokjin will not be explaining how he did that because he might be bordering on being a criminal, but that doesn’t mean he wants other people to be criminals too. That’s just how great of a person he is!

And what does any of this have to do with anything? Well… He’s going to lock them together inside a classroom and hope that they solve their differences there. Is Seokjin certain that his plan is going to work? Not at all. Is it more likely to use this as an excuse to get inspiration for his upcoming 100K slow burn enemies to lover fic that he’s been planning on starting? Absolutely.

Point of the matter is that Team Kim Seokjin never loses, and he’ll still end up on top even if everything goes to shit, and that is honestly all that matters.

Seokjin proceeds with his plan, going as smoothly as he can. He places the posters around areas that he is sure the duo would pass by. He also makes sure to accidentally “misplace” other posters and advertisements on the cork board that might serve as distractions, but you didn’t hear that from him. He watches stealthily from the shadows, carefully keeping track of their movements to make sure that they see the posters and that everything goes according to keikaku*.

[Addendum: Hey, it’s Yoongi again. I just wanted to say that I saw Seokjin when he was doing this because I caught him taking down some of the ads near my residence, and let me just say that his version of “making sure they see his fake posters” is literally just shoving the papers in their faces and then running away as soon as he can. So, I guess he did succeed on what he aimed to do, but was it moral? Was it just? Well, dear reader… I’m leaving that judgment up to you. (Tiredly) Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

It’s Saturday afternoon and Seokjin has just finished setting up his “trap” when he hears footsteps approaching where he was. He quickly jumps inside a nearby utility closet, keeping the door ajar to observe the upcoming interaction. Seokjin doesn’t even need to look to know that it’s Hoseok who has arrived first, always notoriously strict when it comes to scheduled meetings. He begins to worry, realizing belatedly that Jimin is the exact opposite of Hoseok when it comes to things like this, and while that makes for a good fanfic couple trope, it doesn’t really help Seokjin in this case.

He watches Hoseok peek into the classroom, brows scrunched in confusion as he must wonder why nobody seems to be at the supposed book signing. He snatches the poster from inside his satchel, squinting at the meeting details that should say that his class was supposed to meet at this very much abandoned classroom in the Law building. For how smart Hoseok is, he certainly didn’t question the sketchiness of the venue that Seokjin had chosen.

Hoseok taps his shoes against the linoleum floor, lips pursed as he debates on what to do. Just as Seokjin is about to blow his cover and just shove Hoseok into the classroom himself, a loud bang resounds from the end of the hall. They both flinch, looking over to see a head of red hair zooming towards them.

Jimin is dressed haphazardly in a ripped jean jacket and comically short shorts – you wouldn’t be able to tell what season it was based on his clothes alone. He looks like he’d just jumped out of bed, what with the noticeable drool stain still caked around his chin. He grinds to a halt in front of the classroom, breathing heavily through his mouth and still not yet aware of the company he has found himself with.

“Jimin? What the fuck?” Hoseok exclaims, staring incredulously at him. Jimin finally looks up, pausing in his heavy breathing to stare back.

He straightens up, pointing an accusing finger at the elder. “GASP! What are you doing here?”

Hoseok points his own finger. “Did you just say ‘gasp’ in real life?”

“I asked you first!”

“I asked you second!”

“Well,” Hoseok coughs awkwardly, gesturing to the empty classroom mindlessly. “I’m supposed to be here for a book signing, but I feel like I got a fake ad by accident.”

“Hah! Foolish of you,” Jimin snorts, nose high in the air. He procures his own fake poster from his short pockets, presenting it to Hoseok. “You must be Miss Steak Anne, because this classroom is supposed to be where a dance exhibition is being held. I knew you wanted to watch them dance! You’re just trying to cover up your embarrassment!”

“What?” Hoseok splutters, snatching the poster from his hands. He reads it, narrowing his eyes at Seokjin’s masterpiece of deception. “Dude. The poster is fake too. They spelled ‘dance’ like ‘dunce.’”

Jimin takes it back, slack-jawed when he sees that Hoseok was right. “What the fuck,” he says. He groans, smacking himself in the face. “I’m the foolish one now!”

Before Hoseok can retort, Seokjin chooses that moment to burst forth from his hiding place. “Hello, boys!” he greets, not waiting for a response. The two boys jump in surprise, but they don’t even have time to scream before Seokjin promptly shoves them into the classroom. He clicks the lock in place, grateful that he scouted this place during his first year in case he’d ever need somewhere to lock his unsuspecting classmates in*.

[Addendum: Me. It was me. He locked me in there when I told him JiHope was the worst ship on campus. Y/NKook for life! Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

“Hey! Let us out!” Jimin yells from behind the door, his tiny fists banging uselessly against the door. Seokjin cackles maniacally from the outside, doing a funny dance through the frosted glass window.

“Not until you guys fix whatever angst bullshit you have going on! I’ll be back in an hour. Until then, homos!” Seokjin singsongs, skipping away from the mess he created. But not to worry, dear readers, for Seokjin had planted microphones all over the classroom in advance so that we may all be privy to the ensuing drama/hotness courtesy of JiHope! Oh, how incredibly big-brained of him! The following is a transcript of the aforementioned recording because, as you know, Seokjin always wins.

Transcript by Min Yoongi:*

[Addendum: Paid-slash-blackmailed, by the way. I would never do this willingly. He knows too much about me… It’s sickening but also he offered to buy me chicken nuggets and I’d be an idiot to decline that. Anyway, here’s this pile of shit. Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

[0:00] *heavy banging from Jimin’s tiny baby fists*

[0:10] Jimin: Ugh, this shit BLOWS! *proceeds to stomp around like a baby before sliding to the ground with a thud*

[0:20] Hoseok: Well, it could be worse. We could have been kidnapped by a serial killer.

[0:25] Jimin: I’m pretty sure Kim Seokjin categorizes as one, but go off.

[0:30] Hoseok: *grumbling* I’m just trying to lighten the mood.

[0:35] Jimin: Oh wow, thanks soooo much. This is all your fault, by the way. Can’t believe your dumbass got bamboozled by Seokjin.

[0:40] Hoseok: How the fuck is this my fault? You were fooled too! And will you stop sitting like that? I can see everything with how short your shorts are.

[0:45] Jimin: Oh, and now you’re going to police how I dress? Bitch, people would be honored to see my nuts! They’re prized nuts!

[0:50] Hoseok: *snorts* Sure, if you say so.

[0:55] *there is a short pause and you can hear Jimin’s heavy breathing* Jimin, mumbling: Taehyung says my nuts are great…

[1:00] Hoseok: Well, Taehyung is an idiot. He probably says that shit to everybody.

[1:05] Jimin: *gasps* TAKE THAT BACK! HE’S MY FUCKING SOULMATE!”

[1:10] Hoseok: Oh, he’s your soulmate, is he? Guess you like throwing that word around to just about anybody, huh? Because last time, I remember you calling me your soulmate!”

[1:15-6:15] *literally just five minutes of silence* *you can hear Jimin crying a little bit but it’s obvious he’s trying to hold it in* *Hoseok (?) or maybe Jimin is pacing around*

[6:20] Hoseok: I, uhh... *hesitates some more* I didn’t... Mean to say that.

[6:25] Jimin: *starts to laugh hysterically* Fuck…

[6:30] Jimin: *slams his tiny baby hand against the wall again* Fuck!

[6:35] Jimin, choking up: You didn’t mean to say what? That we really were soulmates? That we used to be best friends?

[6:40] Hoseok, quietly: Jimin... No, I meant––

[6:45] Jimin: What do you mean, huh? I can never understand you. You never explain yourself. It’s always a guessing game with you and I just end up getting my feelings hurt because I always make the wrong assumptions, isn’t that right?

[7:00] Hoseok, choking up: Of course not. You’re right, I’m stupid and––

[7:05] Jimin, yelling: That’s right! You are fucking stupid! You’ve been stupid since day one and I can’t believe I wanted to be friends with you! *sniffles loudly* And I’m even stupider for still wanting to be friends with you.

[7:20-7:30] *there is a long silence except for the sound of Jimin’s heavy sniffling*

[7:35] Hoseok, sighing: I know that I don’t deserve to be your friend. I’m ashamed. I’m so fucking ashamed. There isn’t a day where I don’t regret not telling you about giving up dance all those years ago. I should’ve been more open with you.

[7:50] *Jimin stops sniffling* Jimin: Yeah. You should’ve. You should be. Asshole.

[8:00] Hoseok: And every time I try telling myself that I should apologize, I’d just get cold feet. It got even worse when you started hanging around Taehyung more... And I just... Lost it.

[8:10] Jimin, laughing harshly: Oh? So you were fucking jealous? Please.

[8:15] Hoseok: It sounds childish, but yea. I was.

[8:20] Jimin, quietly: Oh.

[8:30] Hoseok: And then when I saw you hanging off of Sera’s stupid little finger like a lovesick fool, it... It really fucking messed me up.

[8:40] Jimin: Oh my god. Was that why you’ve been so moody these past few days? Holy shit. 

[8:45] Hoseok: When you put it that way... Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I’m really not a feelings guy, you know? I’m always just supposed to be the happy-go-lucky sunshine guy. 

[9:00] Jimin: You’re allowed to feel, you know? Get rid of that toxic masculinity bullshit you have going on. This is why we fucking drifted in the first place!

[9:10] Hoseok, laughing hoarsely: Yeah... You’re right. *sound of a body sliding down to the floor... Hoseok must have sat beside Jimin*

[9:30] Jimin: We are literally so stupid. Do you realize how dumb our arguments sound? We’re being so childish, and for what?

[9:40] Hoseok: *sighing* I know… I’m the asshole here. I know what I did and I’m the reason why our friendship shifted. I’ve never been considerate to you and now…

[9:50] Hoseok: You probably hate me. And I used to tell myself that it’s better that you moved on but I know the reason why you never applied for the dance program is because of me.  

[10:00] Jimin: I mean, yeah. That’s true.

[10:05] Hoseok: Wait, the asshole part or…

[10:10] Jimin: Pretty much everything. Yes, you’re the asshole. Yes, you ruined our friendship. Yes, I didn’t apply for the dance program because of you.

[10:15] Hoseok: *sighing* And you probably hate me, right?

[10:20] Jimin, softer: No, of course not. I could never hate you, hyung. Hell, I thought you hated me! You never hang out with me anymore! I literally only started taking those tutoring lessons from Y/N so that I would have an excuse to see you sometimes.

[10:35] Hoseok: ...oh. I didn’t know… I guess I’ve been a little bit too self-absorbed.

[10:45] Jimin: Understatement of the century, hyung. I just fucking miss you, okay? *sniffles loudly* God, I am so sick of crying all the time! First that shit with Sera, and now this…

[10:55] Hoseok: *panicking* Shit! Jimin-ah, please don’t cry… I’m such a fuck up! Why do you even want to hang around me?

[11:05] Jimin: Don’t you get it? You’re my best friend! How could I just erase years of friendship over what? Just because you don’t wanna dance anymore? Listen, I know I always pester you to go dance with me again, but I’d be more than happy just having you as my friend. I don’t care about that shit anymore! I just want you to look at me without looking so fucking guilty all the time.

[11:35] Hoseok: Well… I still want to dance. All the time, believe me. But… I can’t go around wasting my time when I made a promise to my dad.

[11:45] Jimin, hesitantly: Your… your dad?

[11:50] Hoseok: Yeah. He told me it was his greatest wish if I followed in his footsteps and became a teacher… I’m sorry, Jimin. I couldn’t just let my old man down like that. I…

[12:00] Jimin: Oh my god. You idiot. You fucking dunce. You dick for brains.

[12:05] Hoseok: What the fuck? What did I do now?

[12:10] Jimin: Have you ever considered… that you could teach shit other than English? Huh?

[12:15] *Hoseok.exe has stopped working*

[12:20] Jimin: Oh my god! I have a fucking feeling your dad meant he just wanted to see you teach kids, not necessarily become an English teacher like he was! You fucking stupid piece of shit!

[12:30] Hoseok: I… literally didn’t think. How the fuck..?

[12:35] Jimin: Are you literally just telling me right now that we could’ve escaped 3 years of stupid misunderstanding if you just hadn’t been an idiot? Give me a break! How the hell do you think you’d ever become a teacher?!

[12:50] *there is a pause before the two of them start laughing loudly*

[13:00] Hoseok: Jesus. Guess I really am the asshole, huh?

[13:05] Jimin: You think? Ugh, maybe getting locked in a classroom with you isn’t so bad after all…

[13:10] Hoseok: Speaking of… When do you think Seokjin is gonna let us out of here? I kinda need to piss and as happy as I am to be your friend again, I don’t think I wanna relive our toddler years together either.

[13:20] Jimin: *snorts* Gross. *shuffling* Hyung! Stand here! I’m gonna climb you and try to open the latch to the window over there. Shouldn’t be that far of a jump. Then I’ll just open the door for you.

[13:40] Hoseok: Jimin, are you insane? That could be dangerous! Let me do it.

[13:50] Jimin: You and what? Your skinny ass? Please! Do you see the gloriousness of this ass? I can get us out of here in no time.

[14:00] Hoseok, whispering: Assuming you can even squeeze through the window…

[14:05] Jimin, yelling: EXCUSE ME? I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT THIS ASS HAS WON ME MANY FREE MCDONALD’S HAPPY MEALS IN MY DAY––

End of Audio

x x x x x

Yoongi pauses from his typing to recheck the file, making sure he hadn’t accidentally paused the recording. When he sees that the audio does end there, he leans back into his chair, letting his headphones fall back to settle around his neck. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, sending a quick text to Seokjin to ask what happened to the two stupid lovebirds.

[honeyhan-123]

Extra Credit

Summary: Worried about your grades, you approach Professor Barnes, asking for some extra credit. Warnings: Grey!Bucky, Also Silver fox!Bucky, Cuckold, Professor/Student relationship (more like just fucking for grades) dubcon as he’s in a position of power.

Word Count: 2.4k AN: It’s finally here!!!! My celebration for kind of hitting that devil’s number 1666! Fair warning, this is pure filth based on a filthy fantasy I had on the day I realised I reached 1666 so I figured I just had to write it.

My Masterlist

The dismissal, brusk and to the point as always. A simple, ‘read sections 13 through 15 before Monday’s lecture.’ As always, you made sure to jot it down in your planner, taking far too long to write the single sentence as you waited for the class to dwindle out the door.

While having a five pm lecture on a Friday night seemed like a curse most of the time, tonight you were thanking the administrative gods, because for once, there was no one standing by Professor Barnes’ desk coming up with some bogus excuse to spend more time with him.

The short walk to the long wooden desk which had been present in your nighttime fantasies far too often, seemed to stretch on for miles, your nerves fraying further with each step, sweat building up, your skin turning clammy despite the lack of clothes under the beige trench coat. You got to him just as the door swung shut, the last of your peers leaving for the night.

‘Professor Barnes?’ Your voice was timid, a whisper in the large lecture hall, your breath seeming to fail as he looked up at you, his grey-blue eyes piercing through you.

‘Yes?’ His voice was curt, cutting straight to the point just as it did during his lectures.

‘I was uh, I was wondering if I could go over my recent paper with you? The one on Anglo-American relations during the war?’ A murmur from him in agreement as his attention returned to packing his notes into his briefcase.

‘Yes I figured you would. It was far below your usual standard, if I hadn't known better, I would have thought I was reading a highschool paper.’ You tried to keep your smile in place as his words cut through you like knives. While you knew he was right that it wasn’t your usual standard, he was just being unnecessarily harsh. ‘We can continue this discussion in my office if you don’t mind, the cleaners should be here soon and we don’t want to get in their way.’ You nodded, your gaze stuck on the smooth leather of his briefcase, a metal hand picking up the handle, a glint of the gold shining in your eyes as he moved.

Maybe you should just go home.

Yet, instead of listening to your moral compass, you continued on, following his lithe body as he stalked through the halls, leading you to his office. You had been here a few times before, always during office hours as you tried to pick his brain; tried to show off your own knowledge. Unlike every time before, he gestured you to the plush couch below the line of windows, your gaze flickering to his desk uncertainly, but following his instructions nonetheless.

‘Would you like to remove your coat? I have a stand if you’d like.’ You knew he was just being gentlemanly in his offer but something about the way his eyes racked up and down your body made you shiver, he couldn’t possibly know what your plan B was.

‘Thank you but I’m okay for now.’

‘As you wish.’ He sat beside you the couch dipped under his weight as you searched for the paper that had caused your distress. ‘What is it exactly that you would like to talk about in regards to your paper?’

‘Well, I was just wondering what you thought I needed to improve on, your corrections seemed vague and I know it’s a little unheard of but if I were to rewrite it, I was wondering if you would consider boosting my score?’ His eye brows rose into his forehead as you spoke, his lips pursing. ‘It’s just… I heard that you offered the same to Sofia…’ Your voice died down, drifting off as he stared, his eyes seemingly analysing your every move.

‘Well Miss Watterson’s paper was far better, her points more obscure and her topic more niche making her struggle more understandable. But yours… well it would take a lot for me to consider boosting your score. Tell me, why does it matter so badly to you?’ You struggled to compose yourself as he spoke, your heart rate accelerating even further.

‘I’m a scholarship student Professor Barnes, it’s for my academia and while this grade doesn’t exactly put me in danger of losing my scholarship, it means I can’t screw up again and I would far rather not be in that situation.’ The heat crawling up your body, rising to your cheeks, had you itching to ditch the heavy coat but you couldn’t; not yet.

‘That is unfortunate but as I said earlier, it would take a lot for me to boost your grade… but I think you knew that already didn’t you?’ You swallowed, your eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights as his hand drifted down to your knee, the gold band seeming to glow against his metal hand as it rested on your leg. ‘While your paper is helpless, I think we can arrange for some extra credit to help out your grade. What do you say?’ His voice was smooth like honey and there wasn’t a doubt in your mind he could hear your heart frantically beating against your chest.

You nodded and stood from the couch, twirling around and facing him as he sat, his arms stretched wide across the back. Your hands shook as you pulled the belt free, the beige material parting to reveal the red lace hidden beneath. The shaky breath he emitted as you shook the material from your body had arousal flooding through you, his hands reaching out to grab at your scantily clad body.

‘Seems like someone’s been a bad girl.’ He murmured as his hand snuck around your waist, pushing himself up from the couch and rubbing his face against you as he stood. He walked you back to his desk, taking a seat in the high back leather chair as you stood before him. ‘Show me. Show me how much your grade means to you.’ His meaning was obvious, his growing length only made more evident by his legs spreading to either side of you. With one last glance at his face, growing more impatient every second, you sank to your knees your hands drifting to his belt. He raised his hips allowing you to pull his pants down, freeing his pulsing length and just as you were about to lean in, he stopped you.

‘Beg. Beg for it.’

Your doe eyes blinked up at him, inches away from his thick cock standing tall and proud. ‘Please Professor, let me suck your cock.’ The words fueled the growing need in between your thighs but he didn’t seem too impressed.

‘Like you mean it.’ He spat his words, eyeing you with disdain. ‘Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know this is exactly what you want, what you’ve wanted all semester long. I’ve seen the way you dress, how you play with your pen during my lectures, taking it into your mouth and teasing me mercilessly. So beg me for my cock like you mean it.’ Any embarrassment at having been outed for your not so secret crush was swallowed by the insatiable ache that was controlling your every move.

‘Please Professor Barnes, let me suck your cock, let me make you cum, let me treat you like you deserve.’ You hands danced along his bare thighs, trailing closer and closer to the object of your desire. ‘You’ve seemed so tense these past few weeks, I can tell it’s been a while hasn’t it?’ You had no control of the words pouring from your mouth but you knew they were having the intended effect, his breathing becoming shallow, his eyes locked on you.

‘Yeah, it’s been fuckin’ ages. It’s making me so desperate and seeing you in my lectures every week kills me.’

‘I know Professor, but that’s why I’m here, to take care of you like your wife should.’ While your words should have disgusted you, you couldn’t help your body’s innate response. ‘Please let me take care of you.’ Your hand wrapped around his base, slowly moving up to his bulbous tip, flicking over the glistening drops of pre-cum gathering.

‘Yes, fuck yes. Suck me off baby, make me cum.’ You gladly dipped your head, your tongue swirling around his slit before lowering your head, his hand coming to your hair, a vice like grip around the strands. You hollowed your cheeks as you bobbed, forcing yourself to ignore your gag reflex as you took him. He was far more impressive than any of those other college boys you had been with but you weren’t surprised; a man like him surely would be.

You were sure to run your tongue along the smooth edges of the veins on the underside of his cock, earning a shudder from him. ‘That’s it baby, you feel so fuckin’ good.’ For a man from the forties and a former Avenger, he sure had a mouth on him, but you didn't mind, one hand slipping down your body and over the crotchless panties you wore. You moaned around him as your fingers danced in your slick, swirling over your pearl, giving it some much needed attention.

‘Oh fuck baby, you’re touching yourself aren’t you? So fuckin’ needy.’ You hummed in response, one finger slipping inside as your mouth moved along him, his grip tightening as his immense thighs flexed. ‘Don’t worry baby, I’ll give you what you need.’ With no further warning his hips started pistoning into your mouth, his cock seeming to fall halfway down your throat as he moved, keeping your head still.

The room seemed to dance as your need for air increased but he wouldn’t let up, spit was dribbling down your chin as you choked on him. The hand inside you picked up its pace, matching his thrusts as best you could, and soon enough the familiar coil in your belly tightened, the end in sight.

‘That’s it baby, I know your about to fucking cum, do it; do it for me baby.’ Your head was dizzy as your scream was muffled by his cock, the tension releasing from your body as you came with a shudder, stars in your vision and just as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled himself from your mouth, giving himself a few hard and fast pumps before he came, ribbons of white landing on your face, coating your lips as a few trailed down to your breasts, dipping between them.

His head was thrown back against the smooth leather as he caught his breath, his hands running through his short hair and down his face, dancing along the beard that coated his jawline. As his gaze returned to you, still kneeling between his legs, you swiped across one of the cooling ropes, sucking it into your mouth and pulling it free with a pop. ‘Fuck baby, you’re going to be the death of me.’ You smiled as innocently as you could with lips coated in cum. ‘C’mon, stand up.’

You obeyed without a second’s hesitation, leaning against the thick oak desk, trapped between his legs. ‘I can’t wait to have you.’ His own hands were trailing down his chest, freeing him of the crisp white shirt, revealing his body to you. Although it had been nearly five years since he had quit the Avengers to come teach history, it was clear he still worked out, his muscles rippled as he fisted his cock, already standing tall and proud once more.

The wood was cool against your bare ass as he tore the three piece set from your body. ‘As much as I enjoyed this, it’s just got to go.’ You moaned as the thick head of his length brushed against your overly sensitive clit, coating itself in your juices before easing into your aching hole. His pace was brutal, punishing, as he thrusted into you, his nails digging into the flesh around your hips as he moved you in time with him.

The obscene squelch emanating from your pussy and the sound of naked flash slapping filled his office, a selection of moans and groans mixed in. ‘That’s it baby, so fuckin’ tight for me aren’t you?’ Your response was a clench of your walls, tightening even further around his cock as his thumb found your pearl.

Just as suddenly as he had entered you, he pulled out, pulling you from the desk and flipping your body around. One hand wrapping around your neck as he pushed you down against the oak, his other guilding himself back to your warm wet entrance. A silent scream left you as you felt him enter, the angle allowing him to go deeper, seeming to hit your uterus with every rut of his hips.

He rubbed you with a ferocity, forcing you within arms’ reach of your orgasm as he chased his own. ‘C’mon baby, cum for me. Show me how much you want this grade.’

The hard wood pressed against your cheek, the carpet rubbing against your toes as he moved. ‘Professor, please, let me cum. Please Professor.’ Your words were like ecstasy to him, his grunt of approval ringing through the office as you came, your toes leaving the ground briefly as your walls fluttered around him, his own orgasm following yours as hot spurts coated your walls.

‘Fuck baby.’ He stepped back, pulling you with him as he sank into his desk chair, his hand wrapping around your torso, feeling every rapid breath you took as you struggled to believe that had just happened. ‘I definitely think you deserve an A+ for Extra Credit. I’ll fix your grade later tonight.’ His arms loosened from around your chest, a clear indication for you to get off his lap. Whether he just wanted you gone or he too had locked eyes with the warm honey brown ones coming from a silver framed photo on his desk you weren’t sure.

‘So I’ll see you on Monday. Don’t forget the reading.’ His dismissal was clear, brusk and to the point. Guilt clawed its way through your post orgasm bliss as you dressed, your hands shaking so badly you could hardly tie the belt in place.

You struggled to find your voice to say anything except ‘Goodnight Professor Barnes,’ as you closed the door to his office behind you, his attention already on the next stack of papers, barely acknowledging your departure but what more could you expect from a married man?

+

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My Masterlist

[saiilorstars]

Metamorphosis

Ch. 5: A Companion’s Guide

Current Masterlist // Previous Story // Renata’s Masterlist

Fandom: Doctor Who // Pairing: 11th Doctor x OFC

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother​ @anotherunreadblog​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​ @stareyedplanet​ @perfectlystiles​ @natalie-the-whovian​

[If you would like to be added to this specific OC’s taglist, let me know!]

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Chapter summary: The time travelers have to figure out who's behind the creature snatching people up while working with Liz 10 and in the end, Gabby has to urge Amy to look past the Time Lords’ anger to see what they’re truly all about.

The entire group had fallen into the chute and were thrown out only to land in a splash somewhere full of oddly colored liquid. The Doctor jumped back on his feet soon as he got his bearings, though he noted the flooring underneath was a bit odd. He flashed the sonic around to see where exactly the chute had brought them to.

"High-speed air cannon. Lousy way to travel!"

Renata thrashed the water before getting up. "You have got to stop throwing us down things when you've no idea where they lead!" She made a show by splashing some water to the side.

Despite knowing she was properly upset, the Doctor found it much too funny to be serious. She was covered in whatever liquid they'd landed in - he suspected a food refuse judging by the smell - and so all of her hair was sticking to her face. Her dress was pressed against her body again, something he'd begun to accept would be his downfall one day. She was trying to be angry but she kept scrunching her face and yelling about the horrible stench around them. Her kicking the food refuse was just a plus!

Yup. Completely, adorably, funny.

"Doctor, where are we?" Gabby was close to gagging with the odor around them.

"600 feet down, 20 miles laterally - puts us at the heart of the ship. I'd say... Lancashire. What's this, then - a cave? Can't be a cave. Looks like a cave!"

"WHO CARES WHAT IT IS! GET US OUT!" Renata shivered excessively. She might just throw up there and then.

Amy was still on her knees beside them. She kept touching the ground. "It's a rubbish dump, and it's minging!"

"Yes, but only food refuse!" the Doctor Doctor confirmed, not that it would make it better. "Organic, coming through feeder tubes from all over the ship."

"You are so dead," Renata threw him a murderous glare he chose to ignore.

"The floor's all squidgy, like a water bed," Amy pointed out. She'd been trying to figure out how best to describe what she felt and that was as close as it would get.

"But feeding what, though?" the Doctor asked while he took another read off the sonic.

"It's sort of rubbery, feel it. Wet and slimy!"

"Uh, Amy, let's not keep touching that," Gabby helped the woman stand up. "You never know what it could actually be."

And a moment later, the Doctor heard a distant moaning. He froze, letting his eyes dart to the dark 'walls' of the so-called cave. "Er...it's not a floor, it's a…" he put his screwdriver away and prepared the best way to explain his discovery. "So…"

Renata narrowed her eyes on him. With all her thrashing, she missed the moaning. The Doctor was grateful for it because now he had a few minutes to come up with a way that wouldn't get him killed.

"What is it?" she demanded a dangerously low tone.

"The next word is kind of a scary word." And it was a pretty scary moment for him right now. He moved closer to her, taking her sticky hands into his. "Take a moment. Get yourself in a calm place. Go 'omm'. Everybody! Omm!"

Gabby and Amy had no idea what he was doing but they would go along with it and see where it led. "Omm!" they collectively said.

"...it's a tongue," the Doctor had swallowed very hard, almost making it so that Renata couldn't understand him. Almost.

Her dark eyebrows arched up as her eyes widened. "A...tongue?"

"Aha...a great big tongue!" He couldn't help the excitement that crossed his face for a moment. It was a tongue! They were standing on an actual tongue! When could that ever happen!?

It was that same excitement that drove Renata mad. "I'm gonna kill you!" she pushed him away. "I hope you've enjoyed your small time in that incarnation because it's about to end!" She actually lunged on him, knocking them both to the ground. Her hands may have curled around his neck but she got a taste of the food refuse from their splash and nearly gagged on the side.

The Doctor was stunned that Renata had actually lunged on him, but he was close to laughing too. This new incarnation of hers was truly going to be an adventure. Perhaps it was a sign that things were going to change for the better now.

"Renata!" Gabby burst into laughter. Amy perhaps would've laughed if she wasn't still stuck on the fact they were inside a mouth.

Renata still narrowed her eyes on the Doctor under her. "You are so lucky there's witnesses!"

"I'm going to love you even more after this," he said before laughing. A blush bloomed across Renata's face, even more so when she realized their position.

Make a fool out of yourself why don't you? She quickly got off him and tried pulling her hair off her face. "How do we get out of here?" She reached for her pocket and took out her own sonic.

"What, you have one too?" Amy blinked at the golden-white sonic in Renata's hand. It even made the same sound as the Doctor's.

Renata gave a dismissive nod while she took a look at the readings. "This place is huge! Doctor, of all the places…"

"It's gorgeous!" the man exclaimed. She rolled her eyes in response. "Blimey! if this is just the mouth, I'd love to see the stomach." Of course soon as he heard the grunts in the back he regretted his words. "Though not right now."

"Doctor, how do we get out?" Gabby called to him. She would like if he didn't keep saying words that could get him killed by the mouth or Renata.

"OK, it's being fed through surgically implanted feeder tubes, so the normal entrance is…" the Doctor made a turn towards the white set of teeth properly shut. "...closed for business."

"We can try, though!" Amy said determinedly. She left Gabby's side only to take two steps and hear another grunt. "Or...not…"

"Oh, great, it's started," Renata lowered her sonic to her side.

Amy swallowed hard. Whatever was starting was her fault. "What has?"

"Swallow reflex." The Doctor said just before they were thrown back into the refuse. Renata yelled as soon as her entire body was covered in the refuse again. In a quick second the Doctor used the sonic on the walls to get another process started, one that he was sure Renata would thoroughly scream at him for.

"What are you doing?" Amy sat upright, too afraid to stand until somebody else did too.

"I'm vibrating the chemo-receptors!"

"Chemo-what?"

"The eject button!"

"How does a mouth have an eject button?"

As expected, Renata loudly screamed. "I really hate you! I hate this entire place and this entire ship!"

Gabby was about to ask for another explanation when they heard the creature growling and a wave of vile coming towards them. Oh, she might scream too.

The Doctor helped Renata stand up but she looked so close to murdering him he almost thought of letting her go. He winced at himself for that thought. "Sorry Renée. Only way out."

She would've indeed yelled at him had it not been for the terribly huge wave coming for them. "O-o-oh no…" Her hands suddenly clung to him.

"Right, then, this isn't going to be big on dignity," he tweaked his bowtie, not that it would matter in a couple minutes. "Geronimo!" He wrapped his arms around Renata's body to shield her from as much bile as he could.

Gabby and Amy tried cowarding behind one another, ushering the other one ahead before they would force each other to switch places. In the end, they all screamed as the bile collected them in its way.

~0~

When Gabby and Amy came to, everything was a bit distorted. They could see each other a few inches away but things were blurry. They could hear warbled voices in the background, going fast. It took a few minutes for them to realize they were lying on a hard, cold metal ground and that the voices they heard were actually Renata and the Doctor going back and forth in some conversation...or argument. Gabby wasn't sure.

"You really had to bring us there, huh? I always thought there was a wire in your head that's plugged into some box with the words 'act stupid' on the front!" Renata was watching the Doctor sonic the metal door that wouldn't open for them.

He looked over her shoulder at her, his expression a cross between wanting to laugh or be properly annoyed. "A box…?" The laughing was winning.

She huffed and folded her arms. "Being clean is something I love. I adore it. You know what I don't like? Being covered in sick! I was just thrown up like...like…" she groaned when no comparison came to mind. "It's just so terrible that I can't come up with the right word!"

"Ren?" Gabby called, alerting the pair she and Amy had woken up.

Renata turned around to help the girls stand up. "Don't worry. There's nothing broken, there's no sign of concussion and yes, unfortunately we're all covered in sick."

"And where are we?" Amy asked once she realized they were in a narrow room with, unsurprisingly, two Smilers.

"Overspill pipe, at a guess." Renata glanced back to see if the Doctor was anywhere closer to opening that door. He wasn't.

Amy crinkled her nose at the stench that seemed to be stuck on her. "Oh, God, it stinks!"

"Yeah, that's not the pipe," the Doctor paused scanning to shoot her an apologetic smile.

"Ugh! Doctor!" Gabby kept her arms away from her body. "This is by far the most disgusting thing that's happened to us!"

"Can we get out?" Amy wanted nothing more than to see a shower.

"One door, one door switch, one condition," Renata sourly said as she made her way up to the Smilers. She tilted her head at the smiling clown face. "It wants us to forget everything we saw. The audacity."

"Forget that we were inside the mouth of a creature? Honestly tempting," Gabby admitted after smelling a strand of her hair.

"Don't say that Gabbs," the Doctor gave up on the door for the moment. "There's a creature living in the heart of this ship and I'd like to know what it's doing there."

The Smilers knew the question was directed at it and, as a response, they turned around to show their angry faces.

"No, that's not going to work on us, so come on," the Doctor made a motion with his fingers for it to give the answer. "Big old beast below decks, and everyone who protests gets shoved down its throat. That how it works?"

Once again, the Smilers turned their faces, revealing an even angrier faces than the last.

Renata was exasperated with the Smilers by this point. "Would you just answer!?" She slammed her hands against the walls of their booths, at the same time expelling golden butterflies. With widened eyes, she backed away. "Oops…" she stared at her palms much like Gabby had earlier. "How does that work exactly?"

"At a first glance, seems like its connected to your current distressed state," the Doctor said, reaching for her closest hand. He examined it as much as he could with the naked eye, but there seemed to be no excess and it didn't seem to harm Renata like it had in her last incarnation.

"I got mad at the door that wouldn't open!" Gabby exclaimed, absolutely believing the Doctor's theory. "It must be when we're mad!"

"But not always, right?" asked Amy who had remembered the butterfly trick Renata showed her when the Doctor was examining the crack in her bedroom wall.

Renata seemed to read her thoughts and nodded with a smile. "Yes! But-" she dropped her smile as her eyes landed on the Smilers again, "-right now I'm beyond angry! I'm covered in sick because of a creature that's no doubt being tortured in the middle of this ship and some stupid clowns are holding back on us! So you better-" she threatened the booth with a pointed, glowing finger, "-start answering before you become Vortex dust!"

The booths opened up to let the two Smilers come out.

The Doctor quickly pulled Renata back, prompting Gabby and Amy to do the same. "May I just say, good response but terrible outcome?" he told Renata who agreed with a quick nod of her.

"Okay, what do we do now!?" Amy urgently asked them as the Smilers approached them. They were looking as terrified as she was and she took that as a bad sign.

Suddenly, the red cloaked woman had the door opened behind them and shot at the Smilers. They were momentarily stunned.

The Doctor whirled around, happy as ever. "Look who it is!? You look a lot better without your mask!"

The woman was showing her smiling face at them. Her eyes flickered past Renata to the humans. "You must be Gabby and Amy. Liz. Liz 10."

Neither girl could understand when this woman became their friend but would gladly take it!

"Bit late, aren't you?" Renata smirked at the woman.

"A thank you is in order!" the woman laughed. "Right. You know Mandy, yeah?" she moved slightly to let the others see the girl behind in the hallway. "She's very brave."

"How did you find us?" the Doctor asked her after realizing there was no the woman had been casually around the area.

"Stuck my gizmo on you!" the woman chucked a small device at him. "Been listening in."

"Let me see!" Renata took the device from the Doctor to study. "Oh this is great! It could come in handy to keep an eye on him!"

"HEY!" the Doctor was utterly offended. It didn't help that the others, including little Mandy, started laughing. "Seriously!?"

"Sorry, sorry," Renata apologized but she was still struggling to stop laughing. She held the device back to him, not even noticing when he swiped it from her hand with irritation.

"Anyways, you want to tell us what's a creature doing in the middle of the ship?" the Doctor looked directly at the cloaked-woman. "Oh, my bad, you also voted to forget."

The woman took the sarcastic jab calmly. She shrugged her shoulders and refuted the statement. "Never forgot, never voted. Not technically a British subject."

"Then who and what are you, and how do you know us?"

The woman tilted her head at him, giving him a smile asking him if he really needed to ask her that. "You're a bit hard to miss, love. Mysterious stranger, MO consistent with higher alien intelligence, hair of an idiot…"

"Oh, another insult? Seriously!" the Doctor was reaching his limit with all these sarcastic jabs. Why was it always him!?

Renata felt guilty for taking her own jabs. She always did them and poor Doctor always had to take it. It was their dynamic, sure, but sometimes she needed to reel it back. She reached up to move some of his wet strands of hair off his forehead. She felt his body stiffen but soon relaxed under her touch.

"Sorry my dear. You do have the hair of an idiot but I love it," she said with a soft smile.

Well, that made everything better for the Doctor. He wouldn't mind if he stroked his hair all day. Actually, he might ask her if she could do that later. With any luck, she would say yes and they could have one calm day together.

When Renata was sure their little disagreement was resolved, she drew her hand away - an action the Doctor almost pouted at - and turned her attention back to the woman. "So, you were explaining how you know him?"

"Both of you, actually," the woman said. "Did I not make that clear?"

"Right, except that doesn't make sense. We haven't met you."

"No, I've been brought up on the stories. My whole family was." The woman noticed the Smilers beginning to twitch behind them. "They're repairing." The group looked back to see the Smilers and quickly took a few steps away. "Doesn't take them long. Let's move." She took the lead down the hallway and continued explaining herself to the pair. "The Doctor. Old drinking buddy of Henry XII. Tea and scones with Liz II. Vicky was a bit on the fence about you, wasn't she?"

"What did you do, Doctor?" Gabby threw the man a curious glance.

The Doctor preferred not to explain considering it really was his fault. "Torchwood," he left it at that and hoped she and Renata would get the jist.

"Knighted and exiled you on the same day!" the woman laughed. The Doctor scowled at her back. So much for keeping it a secret!

"That sounds like you alright," Renata mumbled to him as she rubbed his arm comfortingly.

"And how could I forget Marchioness Renata? Good friends with Anne of Cleves, bit rocky with dear old Henry VII - I'd be too, don't worry - but nobody more rocky than Liz I, huh? Goes for you too Doctor!"

"I haven't even met her! Doctor, what did you do!?" Renata glared at the man in question.

"How do you know I did something!?"

"Because it had to be! Notice how she didn't say drinking buddies of Henry VII, right?"

"Well, but…but you were the reason we couldn't go back to any Henry VII era!"

"Hey that was both of us!" Renata snapped loudly and jabbed her finger into his chest.

Gabby couldn't help snicker at the reminder of that precise trip. Amy heard the laugh and raised an eyebrow at Gabby, asking her what she knew.

"Long story short..." Gabby pulled Amy a bit closer to speak quietly without being heard. Of course with Renata and the Doctor arguing, she didn't have to try so hard. "We met Anne of Cleves and her then-husband, Henry VII, who wanted Renata as his wife. The Doctor got jealous, made a whole thing about it and we had to run for it in the end."

Amy hid her laugh behind her mouth and turned her head at the Time Lords. They were still going at it strongly.

"I didn't do anything!" the Doctor was shouting.

"Don't lie to me! Martha also told me this Queen was particularly upset with you! And now she hates me too!?"

"I didn't!" the Doctor insisted but Renata wouldn't listen. Gabby and Amy both shared equally confused but curious glances with each other.

"Good story to come, I hope," Gabby snickered with the ginger.

It wasn't until the woman introduced herself as Liz 10 - Elizabeth X - that the Time Lords stopped arguing.

"And down!" Liz shot at the pair of Smilers behind them. "I'm the bloody Queen, mate. Basically, I rule." She led them into another corridor that would bring them to the base of a vator shaft. "There's a high-speed Vator through there."

The Doctor noticed two tentacles sticking out of a caged area, much like the one Gabby and Amy saw earlier. "There's these things. Any ideas?"

"Oh, we saw one of those up top," Gabby said as soon as she saw the caged area. "Right, Amy?"

"Yeah!" the ginger nodded. "There was a hole in the road, like it had burst through, like a root."

"It's all one creature," Renata said and shuddered. "The same one we were inside minutes ago, but now it's reaching out. It must be growing through the mechanisms of the entire ship."

Liz eyed the cage with newfound horror. "What? Like an infestation?"

"Someone's helping it. Feeding it…" the Doctor tried getting nearer to it but Renata yanked him back.

"Feeding my subjects to it," Liz muttered and stormed off. "Come on. We've got to keep moving." Mandy followed in a hurry and just as Amy and Gabby were going to do the same, they noticed the Time Lords staring at the tentacles with odd expressions.

"Guys?" Gabby called to them while Amy gestured that they needed to be following Liz.

"We should have never come here," the Doctor resolved with a sigh. The creature banged against the bars keeping it inside. He should have just ran those exams on Renata and maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't have caught sight of this ship.

Amy remembered the video she left for herself, warning her to get off the ship. Could it be related to the creature? And if so, why was it so urgent!?

~ 0 ~

Liz's bedroom was covered with a maze of glasses of water. It was a certain challenge getting around it but Liz was a master as she swiftly crossed the room to reach her bed. Sometime later would see the travelers cleaned up from showers, though Renata swore she would take a proper, long bath when they went home.

"What are these glasses for?" Gabby asked in a slight frustration after nearly knocking one over.

"To remind me every single day that my government is up to something, and it's my duty to find out what," Liz said in what sounded like a recital.

"Lovely mask," Renata eyed the porcelain mask sitting at the foot of the woman's bed. She knew the Doctor had already taken a quick study of it while she was in the shower, but she wanted to see it with her own eyes. "Guess you would need it if you're a queen going undercover to investigate her own kingdom."

Liz was dead serious as she watched Renata turn her mask over. "Secrets are being kept from me. I don't have a choice. Ten years I've been at this - my entire reign - and you've achieved more in one afternoon."

"That's him alright," Renata said without even gazing up from the mask. The Doctor stopped pacing behind her, his amused expression asking her how she knew that line had been directed at him. She glanced at him with a wink.

"So Liz, how old were you when you came to the throne?" he asked afterwards.

"40. Why?"

Amy's mouth nearly dropped when she heard that. She turned away from the mirror after putting her hair up. "What, you're 50 now? No way!"

"Don't let physical appearances fool you," Gabby said before throwing a thumb at Renata and the Doctor. "Ask them how old they are."

"Ask and it's the last thing you'll do," Renata calmly said while she studied the mask, though under her calm words there was a clear warning.

Amy chuckled and went to sit on the chaise with Mandy.

"Yeah, they slowed my body clock. Keeps me looking like the stamps," Liz added for humor.

"Do you always wear this in public?" Renata waved the mask at Liz. The woman nodded her head.

"Undercover's not easy when you're me. The autographs, the bunting."

Renata had on a strained smile before she glanced at the Doctor. He already knew.

"Air-balanced porcelain. Stays on by itself, cos it's perfectly sculpted to your face," he said quietly. Liz missed the knowing looks the pair were sharing.

"Yeah. So what?"

Renata met the woman's gaze a few seconds later with her strained smile stronger than ever. "Oh, Liz. So everything."

If they had been about to share what they knew worth Liz, they never got the chance. Four hooded men burst into the room, startling Liz out of her bed.

"What are you doing? How dare you come in here?" she rushed up to them in outrage.

"Ma'am, you have expressed interest in the interior workings of Starship UK. You will come with us now," one of the men dutifully announced.

"Why would I do that?"

The man's head then spun to show the face of an angry Smiler.

"Mm, that's why!" Gabby exclaimed in horror.

Liz was appalled as she stumbled away from the men. "How can they be Smilers?"

"Half Smiler, half human," the Doctor said, rather disgusted.

Liz didn't seem to share the same sentiment. She was beyond furious and anyone who was responsible would feel it. "Whatever you creatures are, I am still your queen. On whose authority is this done?"

"The highest authority, Ma'am," the Smiler, to his credit, did obediently answer.

"I am the highest authority!"

And that should be your first clue, Renata almost rolled her eyes. The human was too angry to even notice it.

The Smiler agreed with Liz, yet another clue that the woman missed, and announced that he would led her and the rest to the Tower of London. They were brought to a large stone room full of machinery. Only a few feet inside, Amy and Gabby noticed more of the creature's body was sticking out of grates.

"Where the hell are we?" Gabby wearily looked at the Time Lords.

"The lowest point of Starship UK," the Doctor said, giving the room a little spin. "The dungeon."

"Hawthorne!" Liz barked a gray-haired man who'd approached the group. "So this is where you hid yourself away. I think you've got some explaining to do."

"Excuse me," Renata called with a similar authoritative tone. "Why are there children down here?" Her question made Amy and Gabby realize there was a line of children doing hard labor around the room. "It seems hardly safe for them. Where are their parents?"

"Protesters and citizens of limited value are fed to the beast," Hawthorne replied with the most casual tone, easily enraging Renata in a second. "For some reason, it won't eat the children. You're the first adults it's spared. You're very lucky."

"You tried feeding children to the creature!? How dare you!?" She looked ready to lunge on him and it didn't seem like the Doctor would try to stop her.

The only reason he wouldn't join her was because his eyes had gone to the type of equipment around the room. One Time Lord for each problem.

"And you agreed to this!" Renata turned on Liz, startling the woman with the sudden change of direction her rage took.

"I did not!"

Renata's loud scoff made everyone around her flinch. "Yes, you did!"

Gabby pulled Renata back a few steps. "How could she? She's investigating her own kingdom, remember?"

"I remember, but she doesn't! This isn't even a dungeon room, it's a bloody torture chamber!"

"Ren, what are you talking about?" Gabby happened to look in Amy's way and saw the finger's mild fear. If she was in Amy's place, Gabby would agree the sight of angry Time Lady was fear-worthy. "Doctor?" she called to the man for some help.

"She's right," the Doctor agreed, speaking in a low tone.

Gabby recognized that immediately even if was in a new incarnation's voice. Oh great, they're both angry.

"Torture chamber of the Tower of London, except it's not a torture chamber, for this lot," the Doctor sourly went on as he strolled by the equipment. "I suppose it just depends on your angle." He came for Liz and, despite the woman's reluctance, he led her to an open well which was reply just a view into the engine.

Liz peered over the railing to see something huge and it was moving. "What's that?"

"It's your engine," Renata muttered, ignoring Gabby's please beside her to explain why she was so upset.

"Well, like I say, depends on the angle. It's either the exposed pain center of big fella's brain, being tortured relentlessly…" the Doctor trailed off.

"Or?"

"Or it's the gas pedal, the accelerator - Starship UK's go-faster button."

"I don't understand…"

The Doctor was getting frustrated with the lack of brains around him. The answer was right in front of Liz and she wasn't getting it! "The spaceship that could never fly, no vibration on deck. This creature - this poor, trapped, terrified creature. It's not infesting you, it's not invading - it's what you have instead of an engine. And this place down here is where you hurt it, where you torture it, day after day, just to keep it moving."

As if to help prove his point, an intermittent electrical beam shot down into the well, directly hitting the creature's exposed brain. Liz was stunned and she dared not look over the tails again.

"Tell you what," the Doctor hastily made his way up to another well to lift its grate. "Normally, it's above the range of human hearing. This is the sound none of you wanted to hear." He used the sonic on an extension that had come undone in the grate. A loud, piercing sound filled the air until the Doctor stopped it.

Gabby felt tears come to her face when she realized that the sound was like a cry, a cry of the creature. "It's being tortured nonstop?" Renata nodded at her and finally Gabby realized why the two were so angry.

Amy hadn't yet reached that level and she was suddenly wondering if she wanted to.

"Who did this?" Liz demanded to know from the workers. She was furious, just like Renata and the Doctor.

"We act on instructions from the highest authority," Hawthorne said, but Liz still didn't understand.

"I am the highest authority!" she snapped. "The creature will be released, now." But even with all her anger, nobody moved from their spot. "I said now! Is anyone listening to me?"

The Doctor slowly returned to her side and took out her mask from his pockets. "Liz. Your mask. Look at it. It's old. At least 200 years old, I'd say."

Liz could not understand what was so damn important about that mask. She recalled how long Renata had kept it under her eye. "Yeah, it's an antique, so?"

"Yeah, an antique made by craftsmen over 200 years ago and perfectly sculpted to your face. They slowed your body clock, all right, but you're not 50. Nearer 300. And it's been a long old reign."

Liz almost laughed at the absurdity. "Nah, it's ten years. I've been on this throne ten years."

"It's been the same ten years," Renata clarified as she started heading for a small table set not too far from where they entered.

The Doctor led Liz by the hand and since the woman was utterly confused, she let it happen. "The same ten years over and over again, always leading you... here."

Liz swallowed rough when she saw a screen with a two buttons in front of it, reading "forget" and "abdicate". She turned a hard glance on Hawthorne. "What have you done?"

"Well it wasn't him," Renata corrected. "He's only following your orders."

Hawthorne nodded in agreement. "We work for you, Ma'am. The Winders, the Smilers, all of us." He reached over to the turn on the screen and as soon as it came to life, a recording of Liz herself appeared. It was what brought Liz to sit down and truly listen.

"If you are watching this...If I am watching this, then I have found my way to the Tower Of London. The creature you are looking at is called a Star Whale. Once, there were millions of them. They lived in the depths of space and, according to legend, guided the early space travelers through the asteroid belts. This one, as far as we are aware, is the last of its kind. 'And what we have done to it 'breaks my heart. The Earth was burning. Our sun had turned on us, and every other nation had fled to the skies. Our children screamed as the skies grew hotter. And then it came, like a miracle. The last of the star whales. We trapped it, we built our ship around it, and we rode on its back to safety. If you wish our voyage to continue, then you must press the "forget" button. Be again the heart of this nation, untainted. If not, press the other button. Your reign will end, the Star Whale will be released, and our ship will disintegrate. I hope I keep the strength to make the right decision."

Amy felt sick to her stomach. "I voted for this?" She asked the Doctor and Renata despite already knowing the answer. Their grim faces just confirmed what she already knew. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you knew if we stayed here, we'd be faced with an impossible choice," the Doctor muttered with a growing sense of anger at the woman. "Humanity or the alien. You took it upon yourself to save us from that. And that was wrong." He turned completely to her and once Amy saw his face she backed a step. "You don't ever decide what we need to know."

Gabby sent Renata a look asking her to step in, but Renata did not move. She was just as upset but her method of expressing anger had always been to seal it away. Gabby really dreaded the idea of that trait following Renata into her new incarnation. Seeing that Renata wasn't going to help, Gabby moved to stand between the Doctor and Amy.

"Hey! She doesn't even remember doing it!"

Having Gabby in front of him didn't make his anger any less. "But she did it. That's what counts!"

"I'm... I'm sorry," Amy said, at a loss for other words.

"Oh, I don't care," he turned away, storming towards the equipment. "When I'm done here, you're going home."

Amy gasped. "Why!?"

"Doctor, that's being unfair!" Gabby called but he didn't stop for either of them.

"I made one mistake!" Amy argued as she moved to stand beside Gabby. She appreciated the girl's help but she didn't need anyone to fight her own battles. "One mistake that I don't even remember doing it!"

There was no telling if the Doctor was truly examining the equipment he would need for his new plan or if he was just distracting himself from looking at either girl. "Yeah. I know. You're only human."

Gabby's eyes widened. That one might have just hurt her heart. "Is that supposed to be an insult?" the Doctor said nothing more so Gabby turned expectantly at Renata.

The Time Lady had watched the entire argument unfold with no clear expression of which side she was leaning to. "We get it, we do, but Amy you shouldn't have chosen to forget on our behalf. You don't get to make that choice for us."

"I'm sorry," Amy insisted, hoping that at least Renata would be able to know she was being honest. All Renata did was nod though.

"What are you doing?" Liz asked the Doctor, taking a few steps towards the man but stopping when she got a better look at his darkened expression.

"The worst thing I'll ever do. I'm going to pass a massive electrical charge through the Star Whale's brain. Should knock out all its higher functions, leave it a vegetable. The ship will still fly, but the whale won't feel it."

"But that'll be like killing it!" Amy exclaimed. She didn't remember pressing any buttons but she knew, she knew for sure, that she had pushed the 'forget' button to spare them pain. She only failed to think about the creature.

The Doctor's hands slammed down on the machinery and glared up at the group. "Look, three options. One: I let the Star Whale continue in unendurable agony for hundreds more years. Two: I kill everyone on this ship. Three: I murder a beautiful, innocent creature as painlessly as I can. And then I find a new name, cos I won't be the Doctor any more!"

"But there must be something we can do, some other way," Liz said but that was the Doctor's patience had finally snapped from the thread it'd been hanging on.

"Nobody talk to me!" he roared, startling everyone into silence. "Nobody human has anything to say to me today!" After that, nobody tried to stop him anymore.

All except for one person.

'I think you may have hurt Gabriella's feelings back there…'

Nobody would notice the one second the Doctor momentarily stopped working. This was the first time Renata had spoken telepathically to him since he regenerated.

'You're that upset my dear that you've unintentionally lowered your mental shields,' Renata came up to stand on the other side of the equipment he worked on. 'Never really talked about connecting telepathically but since your door is open, I'm going to step in for a moment.'

'Are you not upset?' the Doctor raised his gaze to meet Renata's eyes.

'Oh no I am very upset. Amy did something terrible but...she did it with good intentions. I can relate to that. I'm sure you can too.'

The Doctor wouldn't give in so easily despite the kind face he had in front of him. 'They have been torturing this kind creature for centuries, Renata. How am I supposed to react!? Not everyone has your ability to bottle things in!' As soon as he thought - or said - those words, the Doctor closed his eyes with regret. His hands stopped working over the controls and drew back. 'I'm sorry. I didn't...I shouldn't have-'

Renata smiled lightly at his guilty self. 'No, no, that's completely fair. I did that a lot. But just to be clear, I'm not saying that you shouldn't be upset. I'm only saying, from personal experience, that you shouldn't push people away. When they do things like these, with good intentions, it's best to go back and see things from their perspective. I know it's hard, especially because of the circumstances but it does help.'

The Doctor smiled to himself, almost shaking his head. He always wondered how she could be so wise, even when they were younger. She always had the right words to ease something that could seem so impossible. 'I love you, you know. I'm glad I have you around...in this way.'

Renata reached over the equipment to grab his hand. 'Me too. And know that whatever you do, whatever you decide...I'm here.'

The Doctor swallowed hard as his eyes roamed over the equipment. The choice had already been made. He just needed to get through it.

~ 0 ~

Gabby and Amy sat on the ground together against the wall. They could do nothing to stop what was going to happen to the creature. All they could do was simply wait for it. Amy, however, felt like she was waiting for more than Gabby...because she was.

"I messed it up," she said quietly, bringing her hands up to her temples. "I messed it all up…"

Gabby could feel Amy's genuine guilt and put a comforting hand on the ginger's arm. "It was an honest mistake. Don't worry, you're not going home."

Amy scoffed quietly. "Oh please, you heard the man."

"You don't know him like I do. I mean...I don't know him like Renata does but I know him enough to know that he says a lot of things when he's angry. He's heartbroken."

Amy wasn't convinced. She had felt the Doctor's rage with one simple glare and she was not interested in being on the receiving end again. "If I make mistakes like that, maybe I shouldn't be around."

"We make mistakes, trust me. I did too," Gabby shrugged. Her eyes flickered to Renata who had drifted away from the Doctor to stop more children coming in from working.

Amy dropped her hands to her lap and questionably looked at Gabby. "You did?"

"Yeah, on my very first trip just like you. I pissed off Renata when I overstepped about something I heard about her. It was about her past and Renata is a very reclusive woman. I made the wrong choice by asking her, pestering her, until she snapped and threatened to drop me back on Earth."

Amy's eyes widened as she quickly glanced at Renata. The Time Lady was clearing off some soot of a child's face, trying her best to make the boy smile. She even bopped his nose with a glowing golden finger to enchant the boy. Amy couldn't see Renata acting the same as the Doctor when she was angry. Hell, she couldn't even picture Renata getting angry.

"She can get angry," Gabby said as if she read Amy's mind. Amy looked away from Renata with a light smile. "The Doctor's right, Amy, we're only human but that's not an insult. It does hurt a bit when he says it angrily," she sighed. "He's actually very fascinated with our kind. We're that good." She bumped shoulders with Amy, eliciting a smile from the ginger. "But you have to understand that even though they look young...the Doctor and Renata are actually very old. They've seen so many things that sometimes they snap. And our job as companions is to help them come back from it. We can't make them come back but we can try our best."

"So what can we do right now?" Amy helplessly asked as she cast another look at the Doctor. He was fervently working and had been for time now which meant the creature would be dying soon.

"I don't know. We better start thinking."

Amy blew a raspberry at their hopeless situation. "Great."

"Just look at the butterflies," Renata's voice carried over to the girls' spot.

Amy craned her head in time to see a few of the children 'awwwing' at a few golden butterflies fluttering in the air. A light smile spread across Amy's face as she recalled the same trick being used on her all those years ago. It had truly made her feel much less afraid of the crack. Renata gave the allusion of what a mother was.

Mandy had joined the group without neither Amy nor Gabby noticing when, but Amy did spot one of the creature's tentacles creeping out of a grate towards Mandy. Amy panicked and scrambled to get up but just as she straightened up, the tentacle only tapped Mandy's shoulder and then allowed the girl to pet it.

"Amy?" Gabby gently called to her but Amy was thinking suddenly.

"It won't eat the children…"

"The children screamed, then it came. It's the last of its kind."

Amy watched Mandy and a few other children pet the tentacle and it almost looked like the creature was trying to play with them.

"No, it's okay," Renata was soothing one of the younger children crying at the tentacle. "It won't hurt you. I'm here."

"There were, but there aren't...just us now."

Amy's eyes flickered to the Doctor after watching Renata conjure up a few more butterflies for the scared child. There was no doubt in her mind he would be trying to pull off some crazy stunt to make the scared child laugh too.

"Doctor says he never interferes in the affairs of other peoples or planets but then he does when there's children crying?"

"Oh, if there's a child crying he'd stop everything."

Amy then looked down at Gabby who was still trying to decide if Amy was alright. She'd stopped calling Amy's name but she was keeping a close eye on the ginger. Something was going on inside her head.

And indeed there was.

Amy felt like slapping herself for being so clueless! The Doctor was right, she had to have kept her eyes open! She should've noticed everything! "Doctor, stop!" she yelled and rushed towards Liz. Everyone, including the Doctor and Renata, stopped to see her taking Liz's hand and racing for the voting buttons.

The Doctor was quick to panic once he realized what Amy wanted to do. "Amy, no!" he went after them but he didn't make it in time. Amy had brought Liz's hand down on the 'abdicate' button. "AMY!"

The creature bellowed underneath them, rocking the entire ship.

The Doctor nearly fell back if he hadn't caught onto pillar. Renata's arms flailed trying to keep the children around her from falling back.

"AMY!" she yelled as upset as the Doctor.

Gabby had managed not to smack face-first to the ground, but she wasn't the same as the Time Lords. "No, let her! She's figured it out!" She had no doubt that Amy realized something none of them had. She would never put them all in danger like this. She didn't seem the type.

Amy laughed as if agreeing with Gabby. The ship slowly stopped shaking and actually returned to normal...with a few differences.

"We've increased speed," Hawthorne was stunned as he looked over their readings.

"Yeah, well, you've stopped torturing the pilot! Gotta help!" Amy dramatically flapped her hands around the room.

"It's still here? I don't understand," Liz moved over to Hawthorne's side to see the readings herself.

"The Star Whale didn't come like a miracle all those years ago. It volunteered!" Amy began to explain, growing more excited by the second. "You didn't have to trap it or torture it - that was all just you. It came because it couldn't stand to watch your children cry. What if you were really old, and really kind and alone? Your whole race was dead, no future. What couldn't you do then?" Amy started making her way towards the Doctor, her smile softening as she took in his guilty face for not realizing it before. "If you were that old, and that kind, and the very last of your kind...you couldn't just stand there and watch children cry." And just to really make her point, she purposely nodded at Renata who was surrounded by the children.

"Oh, she's good," Gabby smiled proudly at Amy.

~ 0 ~

Once everything was settled on the ship, Renata and the Doctor found it easy to slip away from the crowd. They'd wandered to the observation deck where they found such a beautiful sight of a starry space.

"It's funny how times change," Renata's soft voice broke their mutual silent wacth. "Last time I saw stars...we were fighting the Master. And we were hiding in a Vinvocci ship. Oh, and the world was ending." She let silence pass between them again when it truly donned on her where they were a short while ago, and what they were doing. "That was two days ago."

The Doctor said nothing at first as he reached for Renata's hand. "Two days ago seems like a very long time ago."

Renata side-glanced him with a small smile across her lips. "Doesn't it? Now we're here," she squeezed her hand around his and faced the stars again. "Looking at some stars, on a ship with a creature driving it…"

"Flying it, technically," the Doctor couldn't help make the correction but instead of getting annoyed, Renata chuckled.

"Flying it," she amended.

The Doctor gripped her hand again, licking his lips nervously as he turned to her and gently using their interlocked hands to turn her as well. "Renée, I don't know why I forgot about it but...would you consider connecting telepathically?" Renata's eyebrows slowly raised, her expression giving him the impression she would refuse. "I-I know we did it temporarily twice but this time, if you'd like, we-we could...officially do it. I would understand if you think it's too early, but...if I may give my opinion?"

Renata chuckled. "When don't you?"

He agreed with a sideways tilt. "Right. We've only just started a relationship but the truth is we've known each other far longer. What happened between us...it's been a long story. I've known you for my entire life even if I've only seen you in three of my incarnations. Most of my thoughts you know anyways, but I'd like it if you could see every part of me. Who knows, maybe if you see what really goes through my head you might realize I'm no good. But at least you'll have known who I really am."

"I know you," Renata said matter-of-factly. She slipped her hand out of his to bring it up to his cheek. "I've always known who you are. Of course I know I don't know all of your thoughts, or every you, but I know you. I know who you are." She stepped closer to him, leaving barely any space between them. "I would love to finally connect our minds. Who knows, you might see the real me…"

"I know you," the Doctor clarified just like she had. "My Gala."

Renata let out a small gasp at his brief Gallifreyan use. The last time she heard him say her true name in their language was centuries ago, too many centuries ago. "My Theta." The Gallifreyan just tumbled out but before the Doctor could fully process it, she'd pulled him to her for a kiss.

Their minds slowly opened to one another, inciting a slow, passionate kiss that they hadn't really shared yet. Memories from each other flooded their minds, ones that they knew - that they were both a part of - and others that were new. No secrets would be left uncovered because that was a thing of the past, something they promised each other going forwards.

~0~

By the time Gabby and Amy realized they were missing their drivers, Renata and the Doctor were already waiting for them by the TARDIS.

Amy nervously carried Liz's porcelain mask in her hands and held it out for the pair to take. "From Her Majesty. She says there will be no more secrets on Starship UK."

"My type of monarchy," Renata gingerly took the mask into her hands. "And leadership in general."

Amy smiled but anyone could tell she was bursting with questions about her stay.

"Amy, you could have killed everyone on this ship," the Doctor was the one to break the terse silence.

"You could have killed a Star Whale," she countered.

"And you saved it. I know, I know."

Renata curled her arm around the Doctor's arm and smiled at Any that kind, warm smile she'd gotten as a child. It was the one that told Amy things would be okay. "We're sorry. We may have rudely snapped. That happens sometimes."

At this familiar words, Amy glanced at Gabby and shared a knowing smile together.

"Why do I feel like we're missing something?" the Doctor asked Renata as he watched the two humans.

"Because you always do."

"Oi!"

"Don't worry, Doctor," Gabby put an arm around Amy's shoulders. "I've just been giving Amy some insight into the life in the TARDIS."

"You would," Renata gave her companion a proud smile.

"I wanted to be like Donna when I first came aboard," Gabby admitted and for a moment she, Renata and the Doctor dedicated a moment of silence to their missing friend, Donna Noble. She would forever leave a scar in their hearts.

"Thanks Gabby," Amy genuinely thanked her new friend because otherwise she may not have made it this first trip.

"Gabbs, I am sorry if I hurt your feelings," the Doctor said once he remembered the terrible look in Gabby's eyes after making his human remark.

Gabby shook her head with a chuckle as she came to give him a hug. "I like to think that I know you enough for these types of situations!"

"Still," he dropped a kiss to her head. "You're family. We don't fight."

Renata barely controlled the urge to scoff when she thought about her family. "We should go. I think we could all use nice baths."

"Mhm!" Gabby pulled away from the Doctor. "I've got some nice bath bombs, Amy! Bet you've never seen a bath bomb that shoots images into the air!"

"What?" Amy's eyes widened, making the others laugh.

"I bet you'll like the one with stars! My favorite is the butterfly one!" Gabby motioned to be followed in as she hurried into the TARDIS.

"Don't forget we need to run tests on you!" Renata called after the girl but it didn't seem like Gabby had heard.

Amy chuckled. "Do you always act like a Mum?"

Renata blinked at her and for a moment it looked like she would be saying something but instead she looked at the Doctor. "Why do they all say that?"

Now the Doctor laughed. "You really haven't figured it out?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh forget it." She turned around and disappeared into the TARDIS.

"Come along, Pond! Big day tomorrow!" the Doctor nodded at the TARDIS and missed Amy's wide eyed expression.

"Sorry, what?"

"It's always a big day tomorrow. We've got a time machine. I skip the little ones."

Amy found her breath once she realized he wasn't talking about her wedding. Her wedding. She shook her head and followed the Doctor inside. Renata and Gabby had no doubt disappeared into the corridors which gave Amy a motivation to ask, "You know what I said about getting back for tomorrow morning...have you ever run away from something because you were scared, or not ready, or just...just because you could?"

"Once...a long time ago," the Doctor came straight to the console. He started the TARDIS up and brought them into the Vortex.

"What happened?"

He turned with a smile. "Hello!"

Amy laughed. "Is that how Renata left too? Because I really can't picture that, you know."

The Doctor's smile faltered but it returned just as quick when he remembered how it was that she came aboard the TARDIS. That might make a good story for Amy. "Actually, I kidnapped Renata, stole her right off 1969."

Amy's eyes bugged out but there was a clear doubt on her face, only further confirmed by her scoff. "No way!"

"Yeah, I did! Nicked her off the ground and threw her over my shoulder!"

"Please, don't sound so regretful," Renata appeared by the corridor threshold, arms crossed and with a mock glare on the culprit. "I should've had the Shadow Proclamation on you when I had the chance!"

The Doctor just smirked proudly as he gave a little spin.

It was then that Amy realized he had not been kidding. "Wait, this actually happened!?"

"Oh yeah!" the Doctor said, once again spinning as he made a round on the console.

"Seriously, at least try to look a little sorry!" Renata walked up the glass steps to the console.

"Why would I be?" the Doctor stopped to smirk at her.

Renata mock-glared again and shook her head. "Amy, go on. Gabriella found the bath bombs." Amy nodded and hurried towards the corridor. "Not even going to apologize then?" she continued with the Doctor, but judging by his proud smile the answer was a no.

"I used to want to but now I changed my mind!"

"You're evil!"

"Smart!"

Amy laughed. "Okay, that's seriously funny!" And kind of romantic. She wouldn't mind if the same thing happened to her.

[rouiyan]

𝘚𝘐𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛 [ 𝘭.𝘥𝘩 ]

⧏ part of the before i met you collective ⧐

synopsis: "how could i ever say no?"

✧ lee donghyuck x (fem.) reader, best friends to loverz

✧ genres : plotless fluff, tiny angst ✧ word count : 2k ✧ disclaimer : swearing

✧ author’s note — guys, hyuck deadass has my whole heart.

“ahh,” you hold your mouth wide open, eyes never leaving the screen, in the direction of donghyuck who had just returned from the kitchen, snacks in hand. he’s in his usual getup of an oversized hoodie paired with basketball shorts, glasses propped upon the bridge of his nose and a messy flop of hair cascading over it. 

he sighs, “geez, give me a break. i barely just sat down.” he pinches open a bag of spicy potato chips and pops one into his mouth before reaching to get another one for you. you’re clicking furiously and muttering various curses under your breath at the opponent and donghyuck's weak heart can’t help but flutter at how worked up you get every time you fail to land a punch. he’s about to put his hand down and wait for a time when you're not so focused but your mouth snatches at the chip and he almost jumps, his hand fearing consumption.

it takes your absolute all before you finally beat the boss, you eyes almost rolling back into your head and refusing to roll back out because of how exhausted they are. school was about to start, in three days to be exact, and if you didn't finish the game now, well, it was now or never. donghyuck sat by your side, mouth full of greasy potatoes, occasionally sipping from whatever drink he had brought. there was no reason for him to be here, he just insisted that he felt you tended to need some emotional support whenever you gamed, claiming that you were always far too 'out of it' to actually care for yourself. he said, as he always does, that it was his job to care for you. and that held true; no matter if you had a boyfriends at the time or not, donghyuck manged keep his word.

turning to look at him, your breath ragged, you see that his hood is pulled well over his forehead. chuckling, you take a fistful of the front of his sweatshirt and gently yank him towards you while grasping at the material of his hood with your other hand and tugging it back. this action causes his heart to topple and his eyes to stutter wide. your nose is close enough for him to move bare centimeters and place a gentle kiss on it. your lips are close enough for him to move bare millimeters and place a gentle kiss on it. he gulps. this can't be good.

giggling and awfully unaware of your best friend's crush for you growing by the second, you scrunch your nose at him (the very nose he wanted to kiss) and purse your lips, "i wanna see your face, silly." all donghyuck can do is swallow his feelings and instead be left breathless by your side profile. the more rational side of his mind is busy scrambling for a reply that doesn’t make him sound like the lovesick idiot of the century while the more irrational side is left in a blundering mess, bouts of adoration emitting from within. he collects himself and makes sure his countenance doesn't give away his rumbling inner thoughts. “you like what you see?” 

your smile grows fonder, if possible, at his comment but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes from your face just because he knows the little blush that’s to appear. soon enough it blooms across your cheeks and he lovingly coos at the sight while your smile reverses into a small pout. “ugh, so flirty,” he hears your muttered reply although he's unsure if he was meant to. your head is already turned back to the screen after the little exchange and he holds onto it as you press ‘resume,’ replaying it in his head just to see that bright smile and little pout that he could never get sick of.

a few more chips are fed to you while you continue playing, which would be completely fine if not for your incredibly low spice tolerance. it isn't long before donghyuck notices your aggressive hissing that is definitely not from the sight of your character frolicking through a field. he's on the cusp of bringing it to your attention when you abruptly speak between two seethes, "hyuck, get me water please," he immediately moves from his spot to get water from the kitchen when you voice out your struggles once again. "actually, just get me anything. it doesn't matter." 

donghyuck watches as your tongue curls at the tingles and he gauges the severity of the situation. he quickly snatches the drink he'd brought with him, despite knowing you wouldn't like it very much, and brings it up to your lips. you take one, two, three gulps before you turn to look at him with wide eyes. he swears your about to hurl the contents onto him and he winces in preparation but it never comes. you thickly swallow, the liquid almost threatening to bubble up once again, a gag reflex. the spicy sensation is gone but is now replaced by blatant disgust as your mouth hangs open as if you’d been force fed. 

"red bull? hyuck, you're fucking kidding me!"

he bites back a smile as he settles his eye on your disbelieving face, "you said it didn't matter!"

"yeah, i did say that but that's red bull! literal poison!"

"hey, you’re not gonna die from one sip." a smirk is now forming on his face, he feels equally bad and equally good for being the center of your current attention.

"i can't believe you're still drinking that, hyuck." the pout returns and donghyuck silently rejoices, "i thought you said you were cutting back."

he bathes in your eyes for a split second before he simply replies, "i am."

"so what's that?" you eye the can suspiciously, upset that your best friend still succumbs to the unhealthy beverage. 

"it's just a little energy boost, princess. i gotta stay awake to keep you company."

the nickname that accidentally slips past his lips catches the both of you off guard, his cheeks flaming a deeper red with each moment passing. you seem to handle the flustered silence better than he does, even going as far as furthering his state by scooting closer to him and placing both hands on one of his shoulders, propping your chin upon them. he can feel your fresh breath tickle and fan the skin under his ears and he knows that if he just so much turns his head in the slightest, he will be face to face with you in all your glory, without much space in between. he's not sure if he's ready for that.

clearly you don't give a shit because you tilt your head upwards to give him a kiss to the cheek. a soft, billowy kiss that leaves him stuck in that same trance, perpetually. withdrawing, you try poking at his sides to see if his expression will budge from the fazed out gaze he's sporting, but to no avail. "hyuck? are you okay?" he can hear you but he knows he's way too 'out of it' to answer. damn, you were supposed to be the one that was 'out of it.' 

the sudden quietness of the room unsettles you and you're suddenly aware of his reaction. weird, you think, hyuck is never like this. hyuck's always and constantly flirting back and making sure he has the last word. you have an inkling on what this could be about but you almost instantly flush down the idea of bringing it up but it's hard to suppress because your gut instinct tells you that you’re right, that you should go for it. no, he really can’t like you. no, you're just deluding yourself... unless, you're not.

"hyuck," you blurt before you can even stop yourself. his head snaps up at the sound of his nickname. "do you like me?"

where it was previously beating a mile a minute, donghyuck's heart is now at a complete standstill. he can still hear it thumping louder than ever in his ears but he knows there's no way he'll live through this. taking a second to zone out of the whole situation, he notes that your character on the screen is now being mauled by a mob of freakish creatures, though the volume is turned low. he notes how your fingers are absentmindedly drumming on the fabric of your sweats as you usually would when you're nervous and that your blinking more than normal. maybe that was a sign you liked him back? maybe, but surely no. there's a dull ache in his heart that yearns for him to be selfish and just say no. he'd spare the potential loss of your presence by his side and just cope with always being the 'best friend.' but then he thinks of you meeting someone, that's not him, and dating someone, that's not him, and maybe one day even marrying someone, that's not him. he admits that the pain will be far greater than the dull ache he's experiencing now and perhaps that knowledge is exactly what he needs to persuade himself. donghyuck steels his heart because he thinks he's finally found the perfect reasons, the perfect timing, the perfect amount of courage to confess. 

and he also knows that, if this were to go downwards, it might as well be the last time he sees you like this, dressed down in the dead middle of night, hair a tangled yet endearing (or so he thinks) mess, and eyes wide, holding galaxies upon galaxies of stars, none of which could compare to the sheer light you radiate. donghyuck makes sure to revel in your presence, for what could be the very last time, to capture your features, the ones he already has committed to memory. he breathes.

then, without warning, "hyuck…i love you," wait, what?! "hyuck, i love you as more than a friend." your pupils are shaking and there's tears that are unshed but visible. there's so much more that's stuck in your throat refusing to come out but the few words that made it past the threshold of your mouth already say enough. donghyuck expects the grim reaper to appear in a matter of seconds, he expects to be able to detach his spirit from his physically unmoving figure and watch as you say those words over his dead body. any minute now. but the more he sits there the more he realizes that this is real. you are real.

you can feel the emotions building up inside of you while he just stares at you. unmoving, he stares and stares and stares until you think that you've only imagined the last few moments. your crying now and perhaps that's the only things that slaps donghyuck out of his trance. he rushes his arms around you in the most automatic matter. it isn't until your the front of your face soaks the entirety of the front of his hoodie that you feel a little less shitty. your face is smushed flush against his chest and when you finally come to your bearings, you notice his heartbeat contracting erratically on your forehead. emerging from his embrace yet still in his hold, you meet your eyes with his. they're wide and scared, reminding you of just moments ago. 

"i was- i was going to say that, exactly that but i- i guess you beat me to it."

"then... do you wanna be my boyfriend?" i want to be your girlfriend.

"damn it y/n, stop stealing my lines!" can i be your boyfriend?

"is that a no?" just say yes. i want to hear you say yes.

"n- no, yes. i mean no, it's not a no. and yes, i want to be your boyfriend." how could i ever say no?

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

[bittysvalentines]

5 times Jack failed at flirting

From: @leahlisabeth

To: @b1ttle

Summary: Jack is new to Providence which wouldn't be so bad if he didn't put his foot in his mouth/run away every time he runs into the Falconer's gorgeous, blond, PR person.  

Rating: none

Tags: Bitty does PR for the Falconers, Bad Flirting, Awkward Situations

Content warnings: Very brief mention of intended non-con

Message: Thank you so much for your prompts! I had a lot of fun writing this fic and I really hope you like it.

1.

Providence is a nice place.  It’s a decent sized city; it would have to be to have their own NHL team, but it has a small town feel.  He can go jogging around his neighbourhood instead of in a cold, sterile gym or even worse, on a treadmill going nowhere.  But it’s not so small that he’s going to stand out and he’s going to get mobbed wherever he goes. Jack thinks he likes it.

He hasn’t really had too many chances to explore, even though he’s marked a few places on the map that he’d like to check out. He’s always been the kind of guy to be a regular, to show up at the same time and get the same thing, predictable and reliable.  It’s already past time for him to establish his Providence routine.

He passes by a sweet little coffee shop as he’s jogging.  It’s getting close to the end of his five- mile run and it is in the perfect location for a post-run snack.  Making a split-second decision, he diverts his path and heads inside.

He isn’t paying attention, already looking to see what’s on their menu, when he feels scalding hot liquid soak his running shirt.

“Oh my lord, I’m so sorry.” A much shorter man is standing in front of him and waving a handful of napkins in his face.  On reflex, Jack grabs for them, stilling both the waving napkins and the hands of the man standing red-faced in front of him.  “I hope I didn’t burn ya.”

“Euh, just a little steamed,” Jack says, finally succeeding in liberating one of the napkins from the man’s grasp and soaking up some of the rapidly cooling liquid on his chest. The man stops waving his arms and tries to help with the napkin he’s still holding.

With that handled, he takes a closer look at the person in front of him and he nearly swallows his tongue.  The guy is gorgeous, with blond hair and brown eyes so large they wouldn’t look out of place on a cartoon.  He’s small but holds himself like someone who is used to complete physical control over his limbs.  His chest is also splashed with coffee even though Jack had taken the brunt of it.  

“At least coffee is your colour,” Jack says.

The man stops mopping at Jack’s chest and looks up at him with a quizzical expression and Jack suddenly has the urge to run.  “Uh, goodbye?” he says before turning around and practically sprinting from the coffee shop.  Guess he can’t ever come back here again.

2. 

Jack’s been busy since moving to Providence.  He’s had near-constant practices and other team meetings as he’s getting to know his new teammates and they’re getting ready to start their season.  He’s heading out early in the morning and coming home late at night with barely a chance to inhabit his new home beyond the bedroom and the bathroom.

Finally, he gets a day off.   He starts it off the same way he has been so far, going for a run and only stopping in to buy coffee once he’s sure he’s not going to run into that blond man again.  

But once he gets home, he’s at a loss.  He bought a couch for the living room but he doesn’t have a TV and his books are all in storage until he has the time to go get them and unpack them.  It’s a little depressing.

Another hiccup occurs at lunchtime.  He decides to splurge and make his favourite chicken tenders. But since he’s mostly been eating out since he moved, he doesn’t even have a baking sheet.

He decides to go and buy at least a few things: a TV, a bookshelf that he can start filling, and the bare minimum for the kitchen.

He’s wandering a department store in the area and comparing two baking sheets, trying to decide if it matters that it’s nonstick, when he hears a familiar voice.

“I wondered if I might run into you again.”

Jack turns and sees the small blond who’s coffee he had spilled. He’s just as cute now and Jack isn’t finding it any easier to look him in the eye. “I was hoping I wouldn’t.”

“Oh,” the blond says, a strangely disappointed look on his face.  “Sorry, I’ll leave you to your shopping.”

“No...that isn’t…” Jack protests but he’s not entirely certain what to say and he can feel the red rising in his cheeks.

“I’d recommend the stainless steel pan.  It’s higher quality and I know they say that nonstick is safe but I’ve also read it leaves bits of Teflon in your food.  If you really want easy cleanup, just use parchment paper or a silicone baking mat,” the blond says, pointing to one of the baking sheets that Jack is still holding.

“Euh, thank you?” Jack says, but the blond man is already gone.

3. 

“Jack, can I meet with you for a moment in my office?” Georgia asks him after practice.  “It’s nothing bad,” she reassures him when she sees the look of apprehension on his face.

“Sure,” Jack says.  “Should I shower first or do you want me right away?”

“By all means, shower first,” Georgia smiles at him and leaves him there.  Even with her reassurance, Jack feels a pit open up in his stomach, just like the one he’d had every time in childhood when he had to talk to any sort of authority figure.  He knows they’re not going to fire him.  They have a contract.  But he’s a little afraid anyway.

A familiar blond man turns to face him when Jack enters the room.

“Jack, I want you to meet Eric Bittle,” Georgia says.  “He’s in charge of PR for the Falconers.  He’s here to talk about your Twitter account.”

Jack frowns.  “I need a Twitter account?”

Bittle turns and smiles at him.  It looks a little forced and Jack really wants to run away from the conversation he knows he needs to have.

“Eric will explain all about it.  You have a choice how involved you want to be but you will have to have at least one public social media account,” Georgia says.

“Oh,” Jack says.  “Um…”

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Bittle says.  “We don’t need to do it right now but we should set up a meeting.”

“Coffee,” Jack blurts out.

Bittle turns red.  “Do you think that’s safe?” he asks.

“No,” Jack says.  “I know it’s not.”

Georgia looks between them, a slight puzzled look on her face.  “Are you going to need my office or are you going to meet elsewhere?”

Bittle takes a card out of his wallet and hands it to Jack.  “Here, you think about it and when you’re ready, you can send me an email and we’ll set a time to meet.”

Jack nods.  Georgia and Eric are both staring at him.  He doesn’t know what they expect from him so he awkwardly turns and leaves.

4.

Jack hasn’t emailed Bittle yet.  He feels bad because he knows he is making Bittle’s job harder but every time he picks up his phone or his laptop, a cold sweat covers his body and he has to get out.  He doesn’t remember the last time he’s been so out of sorts in someone’s presence.  He thinks maybe it’s because Bittle is so completely his type and he hasn’t even entertained the thought of dating another man since Kent.  It shouldn’t be a big deal but it is.

It’s getting late and his stomach is growling. He hadn’t eaten anything after practice and he is paying for it now. He doesn’t feel like cooking or ordering takeout.  Maybe it’s a little weird, going out to eat alone, but the alternative would be to ask one of his new teammates and the anxiety at the thought of reaching out makes him more than a little nauseated.  Eating alone, it is.

He sits down and looks through the menu.  There are a lot of choices and most of them sound awful.  He regrets choosing this restaurant and he’s thinking about walking out.  He’s only ordered a water so far.

He can hear someone talking loudly from the next booth over.  “Oh yeah, sounds totally like a serious job and not an excuse to ogle hockey players in the buff.  I know your type.”

“Excuse me?” Jack recognizes Bittle’s Southern accent and suddenly, he is hyper-focused on the conversation happening behind him.

“Seriously, whoever hooked you up for that sweet gig, tell him I want to run PR for some of the local figure skaters.  That’s what gets my motor running.” The guy’s voice is loud and slurring and Jack can see looks of disgust from the other tables in the restaurant.

Bittle’s voice is frosty and nearly unrecognizable.  “I don’t think I like what you’re insinuatin’.”

“Aw, come on, it’s a compliment.  I way prefer that tight ass to some big muscle-bound goon,” the man laughs loudly.  Jack’s fist clenches.

“I think this date is over,” Bittle says.

“Don’t be like that.  Let’s cut the bullshit.  I know you’re gagging to go back to my place so I can pound that tight ass.”  

Jack can see Bittle standing to leave and he is about to relax when the man grabs Bittle’s wrist and pulls him in close to his side.  Jack hardly knows he is moving before he is looming over the man and prying his hand off Bittle’s wrist.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man blinks up at him, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Hi, I’m a big muscle-bound goon.  I think your date said no,” Jack growls.

“This is none of your fucking business.  Leave us alone,” the man slurs.  He tries to stand up but thinks twice about it when Jack stares him down.

“Excuse me, can I get this man’s check?” Jack hails the nearest waitress.  She scurries away to get it.

The man tosses down some cash to cover the check.

“Tip too,” Jack says, counting the bills at a glance.  The man curses but throws down another $20.

“Did he drive?” Jack asks Bittle.

Bittle nods.  “He’s my ride.” He winces.

Jack holds out his hand.  “Keys.”

The man’s face grows apoplectic with rage.  He staggers out of the chair and tries to take a swing at Jack.  Jack easily dodges it and dumps him back in his chair. This time the man meekly holds out his car keys.

Jack hands them to the waitress.  “Call a cab for this man.  I’ll cover it.  He can pick his keys up here tomorrow when he’s sobered up.”

The waitress nods and stuffs the man’s keys into the pocket of her apron.

Jack drops another couple of bills on his table and guides a now trembling Bittle out of the restaurant.

“Lord, that was dramatic,” Bittle says.  

Now that the adrenaline has faded, Jack is suddenly tongue-tied again.  “Euh, Bittle...Do you like food?” he asks.

“Um...yes?” Bittle says, looking up at him in confusion.

“I mean I can just drop you at home if you want to go but I didn’t get a chance to eat and I noticed you hardly touched your dinner and then I don’t have to eat alone and the evening isn’t wasted,” Jack says in a rush.

Bittle’s face goes from confusion to a sunny smile.  “Jack, honey, that sounds absolutely perfect.  But if we’re gonna be friends now, you’re gonna have to start calling me Bitty.”

5.

Things are easier now.  He and Bitty meet up once or twice a week, sometimes to discuss new posts for his rapidly growing Instagram account, but mostly just to have coffee or dinner.  Jack’s never been much of a texter, but now, his phone is blowing up all day, every day.  He can’t help smiling every time he sees Bitty’s name pop up in his notifications.

Something is happening to him.  He thinks he’s been in love before.  Kent was all fire and passion and danger.  Camilla was all safety and comfort and security and routine and, if he’s honest, a tiny bit of boredom.  

But this is something else.  

There is passion, but he doesn’t want the side of secrecy that comes along with it.  He feels like he and Bitty have known each other all their lives, but he can’t think of anything he wants more than a lifetime to discover more about him.

The team teases him mercilessly.  Jack denies it but a little pit of sadness grows inside him as he tells them that he’s texting Bitty and of course he’s just a friend.

They go out for dinner and something feels different.  Bitty smiles up at him.  He touches his arm when no one is looking.  He touches his foot to Jack’s under the table and Jack lets him, maybe even presses right back.

Bitty blushes and Jack asks the waiter for a glass of wed rine.  Bitty laughs and Jack wants to make him laugh forever.

“Do you want to come up?” Bitty asks when Jack drops him off.

Jack nods.  Bitty’s apartment is as warm and cheery as the man himself.  Jack likes it.  He immediately feels more at home here than he has almost anywhere since he first moved to Providence, excluding only the feeling he gets in full gear at centre ice.

Bitty brings him a cup of tea and a slice of pie, maple apple and the best thing Jack has ever had in his mouth.

Bitty sits next to him on the couch and for once he’s quiet, content to sit next to Jack and enjoy his company.  

“Bits,” Jack says.  “I…”

Bitty leans in a little closer and Jack wants; it’s terrifying just how much he wants. 

“I…have to go,” Jack says.  “Thanks for the pie. It was delicious.”

He’s outside the door by the time logic kicks back in and it’s too late to go back inside.

+1

Bitty looks sad.  For the first time in several weeks, Bitty wasn’t the one to text first.  Jack knows he did something wrong and he wants to fix it.  But a small part of him also wonders if maybe this isn’t for the best.  Bitty makes things complicated.  He can’t come out anytime soon and Bitty deserves better than that.  Plus, there is the whole ethical dilemma of him dating a member of the team.  What if Georgia fired Bitty for this?  He couldn’t have that on his conscience.

It might be too late anyway.  Bitty doesn’t look at him when he enters the locker room.  He’s there talking to Tater and he keeps his focus steadily on the big Russian’s face.  He leaves without a look at Jack.

“Your boy mad at you?” Tater asks.

Jack’s heart skips a beat.  “What are you talking about?”

“Little B.  He not flirt with you or make googly eyes.  No maple apple pie in nook this week,” Tater says, clapping Jack’s shoulder with one big hand.  “Is lover’s quarrel, right? You say sorry.  We get pie.”

“You think Bittle and I are…” Jack’s voice trails off.

“Boyfriends, right?” Tater asked.

Jack is practically ready to pass out.  Tater talks so loudly and surely the rest of the team can hear this.  He looks around but no one seems to care.

“I thought we weren’t getting involved,” Marty said with a raised eyebrow.

“That was when they happy and flirting.  Not when Little B look like he might cry,” Tater says.

“Jack, we haven’t said anything because it’s not our business.  But we’re glad you and Bitty found each other,” Marty says.  “If you need to straighten something out, better to do it now than to take it on the ice.”

Jack nods and runs out of the locker room to find Bitty.  He catches Bitty in the entrance way, heading to his car in the parking lot.  He’s breathing hard and he realizes, staring at Bitty, that he has no idea what to say.

“Jack, are you alright?  Did you need something?” Bitty asks, holding his clipboard like a shield in front of him.

“My team just informed me we’ve been dating for weeks?” It comes out like a question and a shutter falls over Bitty’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.  It’s my fault.  You were so nice and we spent so much time together.  I really thought...but it’s okay.  Message received, loud and clear.  I won’t get you in trouble with your team.  I should have known better than to fall in love with a straight boy,” Bitty says, misery on his face and in his voice.

“I’m not,” Jack says.

“Not what?” Bitty asks.

“I’m not straight.  And I’m not in trouble.  And I really wasn’t sending you a message, at least not that message,” Jack says.  He takes a step closer to Bitty and Bitty drops his arms.

“What message were you sending?” Bitty whispers as Jack takes another step.

“I…” Jack still can’t get the words out.  Bitty is waiting, hope in his eyes, but that hope is fading with every second that Jack can’t find the words.  He forgets about words entirely, leans down and kisses Bitty.

When he pulls back, there are tears standing in Bitty’s eyes.  “Oh,” he says.  “Good.”

Jack just has to kiss him again.