#drift of unisex names

[namesnums]

Top unisex names of the 1990s: where are they now?

The below two plots show the top 20 unisex/gender-neutral names of the 1990s, based on total usages from 1990-9. You can see the gender trend (F% share) post-1999, split into two plots for better visibility.

[naesarangyunho]

Beans on Toast(3)- Jung Wooyoung (Soulmate au, m! reader)

[i don't own these images credits to the original owners]

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Synopsis: Wooyoung and his friends finally meet y/n and his friends. Wooyoung and San's close friendship sparks jealousy in y/n, magnified by the fact that he has no idea whether he and Wooyoung are platonic or not. We catch a glimpse of Mingi and Yunho's predicament and learn that Seonghwa and San don't have soulmates.

Note: Hongjoong's soulmate's name is Jisoo which is a unisex Korean name and has nothing to do with Joshua from Svt or Jisoo from bp etc.

[Word Count: 4.3k]

"So you found him, huh?" Hongjoong said with a smile from the head of the table.

Y/n hadn't managed to see his friends for a couple of days, with the exception of seeing Jongho straight after having met Wooyoung, and his friend group was finally hanging out and catching up. He had mentioned in the group chat when he found Wooyoung but he hadn’t had a chance to talk about everything in person and avoided talking about it too much. He was a) shy and b) worried that if he overcame his shyness and started talking about Wooyoung he wouldn’t stop. His parents and siblings were already tired of his verbosity despite being very happy for him. (As well as jealous, on his two older siblings’ part as they were yet to find their own soulmates.

"Yeah, I found him," Y/n responded with a blush. Why the hell was he always so flustered when it came to Wooyoung. He got butterflies and behaved like a schoolgirl. He wasn’t usually this way, he would have you know.

"Aww, ma guardati. You’re so flustered." Alessandro teased and Y/n glared at him but there wasn't any real anger in his glare. Like Y/n had said before, it was difficult to stay mad at the Italian boy with his big smile and puppy eyes. He had not only Yeosang but the rest of the group wrapped around his finger.

"No, don’t look at me in any way- I am not flustered."

Jongho snorted, "You totally are."

Y/n’s glare found a new target, landing on Jongho who was leaning back in his chair across from him at the lunch table.

"I am not."

Jongho ignored him and looked at the group at large, "You guys should've seen him when he finally met me in the library."

Jongho leaned forward, his face sparkling with mischief, "He was a mess. He wouldn't shut up about this boy. We couldn't get any work done because he was so restless and kept drifting off."

Yeosang barked out a laugh as he saw the way Y/n's cheeks were burning, "Awww, you’re adorable. Crushing already?"

"Shut up. You guys are ones to talk."

His eyes scanned the faces of his friends with a pointed look.

Jongho was seated next to Minji, his hand resting on her knee under the table and Hongjoong sat close next to Jisoo, his knees pressed against theirs. Jongho and Hongjoong weren't very big on public displays of affection but anyone could see they were in love with their partners if you looked at them long enough.

Yeosang and Alessandro were different. For a while, Yeosang was the same as Jongho and Hongjoong but as time passed Alessandro, whose love language was very much touch, brought him out of his shell and most days they couldn't keep their hands off each other, always finding an excuse to touch in any way whether it be kisses, wandering hands or fingers constantly twined together.

Yeosang and Alessandro currently sat in the two chairs on Y/n’s right and Alessandro had his arm around Yeosang’s shoulders and Yeosang had reached a hand up to hold the hand that hung from his shoulder. Sickeningly sweet.

So yeah, his friends were in no position to tease him for liking someone, especially his soulmate.

"Okay, okay, enough teasing," Hongjoong spoke up, naturally taking the leadership role to keep the group in line.

"When do we get to meet him?" Yeosang piped up and the rest of the group hummed in agreement and looked at him expectantly.

Honestly, a small, selfish part of him wanted to keep Wooyoung to himself for a bit longer. They hadn't seen each other since their Chi-Maek night but they'd been chatting constantly over text and even called twice. Wooyoung loved talking and Y/n loved listening. But at the same time, he also wanted them to meet Wooyoung and see just why he couldn't stop talking about him.

"He wants to meet you guys too but I'm not sure when we-"

"Y/n?" a loud voice called out as if on cue and Y/n's heart jumped- he'd recognise that voice anywhere.

He whipped his head around and he saw Wooyoung walking towards him, a pink-haired man at his side who Y/n could only assume to be Seonghwa.

Huge smiles formed on both Y/n and Wooyoung's faces and Wooyoung waved excitedly before rushing across the university cafeteria towards him, Seonghwa scrambling to keep up with the energetic younger boy.

The minute Wooyoung reached Y/n he bent down from behind Y/n’s chair and smothered him in a hug, burying his face in his neck. The rest of his friend circle’s eyes widened at the ball of affectionate energy that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and had instantly clung to their friend. Y/n's cheeks were warm and he lifted his hands up to grip Wooyoung's arms that were wrapped around his shoulders.

Wooyoung pulled back and slid into the empty seat beside Y/n.

"Hey! I haven't seen you in forever." He whined with a pout and Y/n huffed out a laugh, "It's only been like a week, Wooyoung."

But to be honest, Y/n had missed him just as much.

"Yeah, but after having waited to meet you for how many years now, one week without you is torture."

"Drama queen," Y/n murmured affectionately.

Someone cleared their throats and Y/n looked up and across the table to Hongjoong who he guessed was probably looking for an explanation or introduction.

"Oh, guys, this is Wooyoung." Y/n gestured to the boy clinging to his arm.

Jongho snorted, "We'd figured."

Minji slapped his arm lightly and gave Wooyoung a friendly smile, "Hi, Wooyoung-ssi. We were just talking about you."

"Oh, good things only I hope."

"Oh, yes. We were talking about how Y/n-" Yeosang began but Y/n slapped a hand over his mouth, his face burning and his eyes giving his best friend a pointed don't you dare glower.

"Awww, are you shy? You're always so shy." Wooyoung teased and Y/n's glare moved to him. Wooyoung just laughed and so did the rest of the group.

"Oh, this is Seonghwa." Wooyoung gestured to the handsome man behind him.

"Hey, nice to finally meet you all." He gave them all a gorgeous smile, eyes crinkling up in the corners and Y/n had a feeling that if everyone wasn't already so smitten with their partners they'd have been swooning over him.

The group smiled and introduced themselves and Wooyoung was happy to finally have faces to match to the names and stories he'd heard.

"Oh, you guys are the ones that play soccer, right?" Wooyoung looked over at Jongho and Minji who raised their eyebrows.

"Yeah, why?" Jongho questioned and Wooyoung grinned.

"You guys up for a game?"

"What do you mean?" Minji inquired.

"Well, our friend group is hanging out on the lawn by that one big oak tree and some of us were wanting to kick a ball around this afternoon during lunch."

Seonghwa nodded, "Wooyoung and I just came to get some refreshments for the group before we head over. You guys are welcome to join."

Jongho considered it and so did the rest of the group.

"Sure, why not," Jongho responded and Alessandro nodded in agreement; he played soccer too.

"We were wanting to meet you guys anyways," Jisoo spoke up suddenly. They were always rather quiet so they must be serious if they were speaking up. Y/n watched Hongjoong smile at Jisoo when he caught the excited grin on their face. Jisoo really cared about their friends so it was natural that they wanted to meet the new people in Y/n's life.

"Well, that's settled then." Wooyoung let go of Y/n's arm and stood up.

The rest of the group started gathering their things and standing too. It was a lazy Saturday and no one really had much to do anyways.

"What's settled?" A deep voice suddenly said from behind them.

Y/n turned to find the source and saw a familiar blond man, a plastic spoon hanging from his lips and a small tub of ice cream in one of his large hands.

"Hi, Yunho." Y/n greeted and Yunho instantly smiled back.

"Hey, Y/n. Long time no see, how've you been? Wooyoung hasn't shut up about you."

Y/n turned to look at Wooyoung whose ears had gone red. Y/n reached a hand out and hooked his pinky with Wooyoung's with an amused grin.

"Don't you tease me too." Wooyoung gave him a side-eye.

Y/n laughed, "I wasn't."

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at him before clearing his throat and turning to Yunho.

"Y/n's friends are joining us for lunch."

"Oh? Well, why are we all still standing around? Let's go. I haven't seen Mingi all day."

And then he turned around and promptly walked toward the exit, shoving another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and followed him and Y/n wanted to ask who Mingi was again but Wooyoung was already moving, squeezing Y/n's fingers quickly before letting his hand go. Y/n instantly missed his touch and resisted the urge to grab his hand again. He still didn't know exactly where they stood and what he was allowed to do.

Soon enough they all reached the rest of Wooyoung's friend group, two boys sitting in the shade. Yunho immediately made his way over to the larger boy and tackled him in a hug.

"Hi, I've missed you."

Mingi laughed and wrapped an arm around Yunho, ruffling his hair with the other hand, "I saw you this morning at home, you idiot."

Yunho just ignored him and gave him a big smile and puppy eyes. Y/n gave them a questioning look and the other boy on the grass spoke up,

"Yes, soulmates."

Mingi and Yunho looked up, clearly having forgotten there was company.

"Platonic. Platonic soulmates." Mingi rushed out to clarify and Y/n saw the way Yunho's smile faltered and his eyes dimmed a little as he nodded in agreement. Y/n found it strange considering the what could only be described as heart eyes Yunho was giving Mingi but didn't say anything- it wasn't his place.

"You must be Y/n." The boy on the grass stood up, dusting his pants off, and walked over to him with a smile.

He gave him a charming smile and stuck a hand out, "I'm San."

Y/n recalled Wooyoung mentioning that San was his best friend.

He smiled politely and shook his hand, "Nice to meet you."

Wooyoung grinned, happy that his two favourite people were finally meeting.

He reached out and wrapped an arm around San and kissed his cheek, not thinking much of the action but Y/n noticed it and tried to hold back a frown as his heart jolted. Was Wooyoung just touchy with everyone, then?

Just as in the cafeteria, introductions were traded and soon enough conversations were being exchanged. Hongjoong and Jisoo sat down by Seonghwa and started discussing a course they discovered they shared like the boring elders they were. San, Wooyoung, and Y/n sat close together on the grass and Mingi, Yunho, Jongho, Minji, Alessandro and Yeosang (Alessandro had to all but drag him over to them) all began a mini soccer match as promised but Y/n noted that Yunho wasn't as excited about it as before.

"Don't worry, you're not the only one who sees it."

"Hm?" Y/n turned his head in San's direction.

"Yunho and Mingi."

"Oh. I didn't mean to stare or anything and it's not my place to comment either."

"It's okay. Everyone but Mingi seems to realise what's up but we've just learnt to keep our noses out of it."

"Yunho likes Mingi?"

Wooyoung nodded, "They've been best friends since they were little and were so ecstatic to find out they were soulmates. They've known each other for very long- longer than the rest of us have known each other- and it's pretty obvious that Yunho's been in love with him for years."

"Why hasn't he said anything?"

"Tricky situation. You don't want to end up creating a rift between you and your soulmate. He doesn't want to risk losing Mingi. It would hurt like hell." San said and Y/n felt so bad for Yunho. He seemed like the type to completely lose himself in his love for people and Y/n could only imagine how much this must hurt for him.

"This must probably hurt just as much," Y/n murmured.

"Probably, but as much as it has killed us to watch them be like that over the years, it's still not our place to interfere."

"Does everyone in your group have soulmates? If you don't mind me asking." Y/n asked out of curiosity.

San shook his head, "Seonghwa and I still haven't found ours. To be honest, we all thought Wooyoung and I were going to be soulmates."

Y/n felt a pang of unwarranted jealousy and hurt at his words and the way Wooyoung laughed and shoved San affectionately.

"We've known each other since we were around sixteen. We've been pretty inseparable since then so everyone naturally thought that would happen."

San nodded, "It would've made sense but it didn't happen and he has you now."

Y/n tried to smile. From the stories he'd heard about San and how comfortable and affectionate San and Wooyoung were with each other he would've believed you if you'd said they were soulmates. They looked good together too. Both were effortlessly attractive with beautiful smiles and bright eyes that sparkled with mischief. San was a little taller than Wooyoung and the slight size difference looked cute.

It was stupid, he knew it, but Yn couldn't help the feeling of uncertainty and doubt that sparked into existence within his heart.

The spark steadily grew into a flame in the two or so months that followed.

Y/n and Wooyoung's friend groups had effortlessly blended together and it was now common practice for them to all meet up when they could, whether it be lounging about on the lawn at school and kicking around a ball, studying or getting drinks.

Wooyoung and Y/n also hung out a lot outside of the group too, getting dinner together or simply staying in at one of their homes. But more often than not San was around. Wooyoung, San, Yunho and Mingi all shared a three-bedroom flat so it was expected that San would sometimes join in on their movie nights, cuddling against Wooyoung or sitting by his feet. Y/n knew they were best friends, he knew it. But just as Wooyoung and San had said, it was surprising that they weren't soulmates.

And, to make matters worse, as time passed Wooyoung started being just as affectionate and comfortable with Y/n. It sounds like it should be a good thing but it wasn't. Not really. Y/n loved the affection, he wasn't going to deny it, but Wooyoung seemed to be that way with pretty much everyone else so Y/n had no idea what to make of Wooyoung's cuddles and hand-holding. Nor did he know what to do with his cheek kisses or the way he'd nuzzle his face into Y/n's neck as he held him. To be frank, it wasn't good for his heart.

Wooyoung had never kissed him and he'd never dare kiss Wooyoung, already too nervous to properly return his affection and Wooyoung had also never said anything about dates or romance between them in general.

It hurt because it had been nearly three months and Y/n was stupidly in love. He didn't want to end up like Yunho with Mingi but as San said, it was a tricky situation. He didn't want to risk losing Wooyoung or making things awkward between them.

Y/n nearly reached his breaking point when Wooyoung and San announced they were forming a dance duo to compete in an upcoming competition.

Wooyoung was an amazing dancer and Y/n sat in on his dance practises whenever he had the chance and when he started sitting in on San and Wooyoung's practice with each other, the flame in his chest became a fire. San and Wooyoung had such great chemistry and their bodies moved so well together and sometimes Y/n felt like he was third wheeling with them or intruding. Y/n really didn't want to be that toxic guy. The guy that got jealous over their partner's friends but looking at San and Wooyoung he just couldn't help it and couldn't stop himself from wondering if the universe had truly made a mistake. How could he even begin to compare to San?

The music in the dance studio was lowered almost all the way down and Wooyoung came bounding over to Y/n, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, cheeks flushed and a broad grin on his face.

He threw his arm around Y/n's shoulders, "Hey you~ What do you think? How did I do?"

Y/n smiled softly and petted Wooyoung's arm, "You did well, Woo."

And he wasn't just saying that- Wooyoung truly was an amazing performer.

Wooyoung took a step back and ran a hand through his hair, "You sure? I'm kinda nervous for the competition to be honest. I haven't competed in a hot minute."

Y/n held his hand and gave it a squeeze, "Don't be nervous. You'll be okay. You're-"

He was cut off by San who had made his way over and thrown an arm around Wooyoung, the sudden movement causing Wooyoung's hand to slip out of Y/n's.

"Don't stress, we're gonna kill it! You're an amazing performer."

Wooyoung smiled at his best friend, "Thanks, Sannie. You're just as amazing though."

San bumped his shoulder into Wooyoung's, "No you,"

Wooyoung laughed and shoved San, "No you,"

Y/n watched the exchange with a tight chest and clenched fists. He was being so stupid about this but watching them act like this without knowing how Wooyoung felt about him in the first place hurt and made him horribly jealous.

"Oh," Wooyoung turned to look at Y/n, "What were you going to say, Y/n- (y)ah?"

Y/n shook his head with a tight smile, "Nothing that San hasn't already said.”

"Oh, okay."

Wooyoung was a bit confused and concerned at the way Y/n's mood was declining.

He turned to his best friend, "San-ah, I'll catch up with you later, 'kay?"

San's eyes flicked between Y/n and Wooyoung, sensing some tension in the air and nodded, "Ok."

And then he was gone, grabbing his bag on the way out. Now it was just Y/n and Wooyoung.

Y/n looked at Wooyoung, "Is something up?"

Wooyoung took a step closer to Y/n and placed a warm hand on his arm, "I should be asking you that. You've been…off lately. Especially when San is around. Did something happen? Do you need me to talk to him?"

Y/n was quick to shake his head, "No, San didn't do anything wrong."

"Then what is it?" Wooyoung pressed on, his hand sliding up Y/n's arm to rest on his neck, concern painting his features.

"Nothing. It's stupid- don't worry about it. Just focus on your competition, okay?"

Wooyoung shook his head, "If it's upsetting you this much then it isn't stupid."

Y/n hated the way his throat tightened and tears pricked at his eyes. He felt ridiculous. If you'd told him three months ago that he'd find his soulmate let alone fall deeply in love with them he would have laughed. Yet, here he was, falling completely apart because of the chokehold the soulmate bond had on him, all his feelings for Wooyoung magnified and the thought of Wooyoung not returning those feelings was breaking his heart.

Wooyoung panicked when he saw the tears brimming in Y/n's eyes and he rushed to cup his face in his hands, "No no no, don't cry, jagi. What's wrong? Let me help you."

The sudden term of endearment had Y/n's tears threatening to fall.

"I'm being stupid, Woo. That's all."

"Just tell me, I don't care how stupid you think it is."

Y/n looked at Wooyoung's handsome face and the way his eyebrows were drawn together in concern.

He gulped, "I'm jealous."

"Of what?"

"San. I know he's your best friend and it's dumb of me to be jealous of him but I can't help it. You guys look good together. Even you admitted that you'd thought you would be soulmates."

Wooyoung tenderly stroked Y/n's cheeks with his thumbs, "But we're not soulmates because you were meant for me. You're mine and I'm yours."

I'm yours. Not in the way Y/n wanted him to be.

Tears finally slid past the confines of Y/n's lashes despite his determination not to cry.

Wooyoung looked properly concerned now, "Why are you crying?"

"Are we platonic?" Y/n blurted out.

Wooyoung frowned deeply, "What?"

"Are we platonic soulmates?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I love you, Wooyoung and the thought that you might only think of me as a platonic soulmate is killing me inside."

A sob escaped him and he cursed himself for getting this dramatically emotional. Wooyoung just stared at him in shocked silence. It seemed that Y/n wasn't going to get a response so he sniffed, pulled out of Wooyoung's hold and turned to leave. He didn't get very far because Wooyoung grabbed him, turned him back around and crushed their lips together in a kiss.

Y/n froze as his brain lagged for a second but the second it caught up, he held Wooyoung by the back of the neck and kissed him back. Wooyoung held him tight and kissed him tenderly and slowly. After a while, he pulled back to look at Y/n. Y/n's eyes fluttered open and he looked at Wooyoung with flushed cheeks and parted lips.

Wooyoung gave him another soft kiss, "No, we're not platonic soulmates."

Wooyoung hugged Y/n tight and buried his face in his neck. He pressed a small kiss to the skin there, "San and I have known each other for a long time. I love him and he's my best friend. But you're my soulmate, the person literally destined to be mine. How could I not return your feelings?"

He pulled his face to look at Y/n again, "Don't compare yourself to San. Or anyone else for that matter, okay? My love language is touch and I'm clingy, I know. But my love for you is different from my love for my friends and family."

He reached up and gently stroked Y/n's hair from his face, I might hug and hold onto everybody all the time but you're the only person I want to kiss and touch. There's only you."

Y/n finally reacted, blushing at his words and burying his face in Wooyoung's neck. Wooyoung chuckled and stroked his hair.

"My shy baby," He cooed.

Y/n tightened his hold on Wooyoung's waist, "I'm yours. Only yours."

Wooyoung smiled and kissed his hair, "Good to know since as you know I do bite."

That earned a chuckle from Y/n.

Wooyoung stroked his back in soothing circles and Y/n just basked in the comfort of his arms for a while.

Eventually, he pulled back to look at Wooyoung again, "Thank you for putting me out of my misery."

"You make it sound like I killed you."

Y/n just smiled and shyly pressed a kiss to Wooyoung's lips, "Am I allowed to do this now?"

"What, kiss me?"

Y/n nodded.

Wooyoung gave him a soft peck on the lips, "Of course you can. Anytime and anywhere you want. You don't need to ask, jagiya."

Y/n's cheeks flushed at the term of endearment that so casually rolled off Wooyoung's tongue and Wooyoung gave him a cheeky grin.

"Awww, why are you blushing now, cutie? Do you like it when I call you jagiya?"

Y/n just stared at him with flushed cheeks and Wooyoung kissed him again, "You're so adorable."

Wooyoung reached around Y/n to pick his bag up and slung it over his shoulder. He took Y/n's hand and slotted his fingers between his.

He kissed Y/n's cheek, "Come home with me, jagiya. We can order in and watch that new movie you were telling me about yesterday.”

Y/n finally smiled- he was so relieved. He squeezed Wooyoung's fingers, "Okay, but you need to shower first."

Wooyoung smirked, "Will you be joining me?"

Y/n's heart jolted and his blush returned. He slapped Wooyoung's arm, "In your dreams!"

Wooyoung threw his head back and laughed. Y/n rolled his eyes and tugged Wooyoung toward the exit.

Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows at him, "You're eager, aren't you? Are you sure you're not planning on taking me up on my offer?"

Two could play at this game, "Maybe if you're a good boy tonight."

Wooyoung raised his eyebrows and smirked, "Promise?"

Y/n had no comeback so he just ignored Wooyoung who started laughing again. Y/n smiled to himself; it felt good to have things clarified and back to normal.

[livthechoochieslayer]

505

When two people meet in an unexpected way, love is usually not something that comes out of it.

Story warnings: Nothing crazy, mostly fluff but the end does feature 5k words of smut. HA.

Summary/intro: When Lia went on a girls trip New York, she never thought writing her phone number on a bathroom wall would lead to a relationship, let alone meeting a man she has only seen on camera. Dominic would have never imagined he would be catching an airplane across the country for a girl, especially one he has never met.

Chapter TWS: None.

1 OF 9

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ALARM: 3AM 

His mind is awake, too worked up to shut off. A single sweaty body in nothing but boxers lays restlessly inside a loft apartment in Manhattan. His thoughts drift constantly, like water along a rocky beach, unable to stick to one specific thing. 

A conversation that occurred merely hours before has been invading his thoughts, and how every single thing that could have gone wrong, went wrong. 

—----------------------- 

Him and his girlfriend have been dating online for almost 2 years now, living roughly 3,000 miles away from each other. He lives in an apartment in lower Manhattan bought for him by his parents, and she resides in a small town along the Oregon coast.

He has his beloved pet fish for company that is constantly coddled named Peanut, and she has her snarky but cuddly orange cat, Sunni. 

They started texting when she was on a girls trip to New York, celebrating her friend's 19th birthday. While there, she was drunkenly dared to write her name and number on a unisex bathroom wall by her friend, and she did it with no hesitation. 

She thought nothing of it really, questioning the probability that someone would pick her number amongst the others written. The sink wall of the bathroom was covered with names and numbers from the ceiling to the floor, and the sinks had shelves above them covered in Sharpies. All the writing made the small bathroom look even more grimy, especially with the dirt caked on the floor that had cigarette butts cemented in the cracks.

He ended up at the same bar a day later, joined by his friends who were out to have a few drinks and relax. They decided to try out something that seemed like a brilliantly funny idea at the time, each putting in one phone number from the array of thousands to see what would happen.   

Most of his friends got no replies to the dirty pickup lines they sent, but his was successful. It was on the simpler side though, 

Him: 

Hi. 

It’s quite funny how they hadn’t met yet, considering his parents moved to Oregon after his father’s retirement and the anomaly of them being in the same bar a day apart. 

He was struggling with his mental health when he moved away from his parents, wanting to figure out who he was without the constant reminders of how impactful his dad had become. He was a famous musician, and retired after a majorly popular album release. He decided to move to New York since it spoke to him like no other place did. 

The crowds, the fact everyone always seemed to know what they were doing, and the constant movement reminded him that everyone had a different path. It kept him grounded. If all these people can still survive and flow, so can he.

She had a less stable upbringing status wise, with an immigrant single mother who often couldn't make ends meet. For them, it was hard keeping food on the table, but she loved her mother more than anyone in the world. 

She had to get out of California though, away from the crowds and the constant surrounding of bad decisions, poverty and gloomy memories. Her mom supported her through her move, and understood why she left. She still thinks about her mother who's in Sacramento, sending monthly bills to help her save up to someday move out here with her. 

Him: Hi 

Her: who is this?

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hope u enjoyed!!!!!! :P second chapt coming tmr if u want it

(Ps, this is the shortest chapter u will get, all 9 chapters add up to just under 20k words)

[oceantrust01]

50+ Ocean Names for Scuba Babies | Aquatic Baby Names

Do you have a bun in the oven or a new arrival to the family? If you, like us, are an ocean lover, you might like to name your new addition after another one of your great loves: the sea.  If so, we’re here to help! Here’s a list of all the ocean-inspired names you can think about for your future scuba diver!  Ocean Names Based on Myth and Folklore - Poseidon - An oldie but a goodie, Poseidon is the Greek God of the sea. One of the Twelve Olympians in ancient Greek mythology, he presided over the sea, storms, earthquakes, and horses (whaaat?) - Neptune - Poseidon’s Roman counterpart, Neptune was originally the God of freshwater but the Romans identified him with Poseidon, so he took on the same characteristics. Both Neptune and Poseidon are depicted as a bearded man holding a trident. - Triton - The Greek messenger God of the sea, Triton was the son of Poseidon and the sea nymph Amphitrite. With the torso of a man and the tail of a fish, he ruled the waters with some of his brothers.  - Rhodos - The wife of the sun God Helios and sister of Triton, Rhodos was the personification of the Greek island Rhodes.  - Caspian - Inspired by the Caspian Sea. - Varuna - Hindu god of the oceans. - Moana - Not quite myth or folklore, but Moana the movie created such a stir that we would be inconsiderate not to include this child of the ocean.  - Mazu - Chinese sea goddess. You can also use Maz for the boys!  - Enki - Sumerian god of water and wisdom. - Dylan - Son of  Gwydion and Arianrhod and Welsh god of the sea.  - Calypso - Nymph who lived on an island in Greek mythology. - Ariel - Spirit of the air and sea in Shakespeare's "The Tempest." Also the name of the beloved Little Mermaid!  - Sirena - Inspired by the sirens of Greek mythology. - Cordelia - Meaning "daughter of the sea" in Celtic. - Viviane - Another name for the Lady of the Lake. Ocean Names That Sound and Feel Like the Sea You know how some names and words evoke memories and feelings that make you reminisce about the great blue ocean? Here are some of them!  - Gale - A unisex name, gale refers to hurricane force winds, and certainly not someone you want to cross!  - Eddy - A circular current of water, an eddy can be deceptively calm on the surface while an underwater tornado brews beneath its depths.  - Haven - When all hell breaks loose, head to a safe haven for shelter, comfort, and warmth.  - Misty - Misty mornings are the best when at sea. Just be sure your visibility improves before you pick up speed!  - Pearl - The gems of the underwater world, pearls are few and far between.  - Rain - With the ocean comes rain. Lots of it!  - Sandy - What’s a beach without gorgeous, white sand?  - Tsunami - We’re not sure whether you want to name your child after a destructive force, but perhaps “Sue” will be more apt. Only YOU would know the hidden meaning!  - Reef - Coral reefs are a crucial part of our ecosystem, whether underwater or above.  - Jetty - Not only are jetties vital for marine activities, but they are also incredibly fun to jump off of!  - Brook - Not quite the ocean, but a calm, peaceful brook deserves a spot on our favorite name list. - Drift - Whether it is a quiet, gentle current that you peacefully drift on, or an exciting drift dive that advanced divers do, drift definitely reminds most of the ocean. Unless you’re a race car driver. - Cove - Magical and mysterious, hidden coves are one of the funnest things to find on your ocean expeditions!  - Crystal - Whether turquoise blue or emerald green, crystal clear waters all over the world get ocean lovers excited!  - Coral - The ocean is infinitely more boring without coral reefs. Where would you swim with turtles and reef fish?!  Ocean Life Baby Names - Sailor - Whether or not your kiddo becomes a waterbaby, you can hope!  - Marina - If you’re a boater, chances are that you spend more time when you’re awake at the marina than at home. - Isla - A tranquil name meaning “island”, island is also a little-known river in Scotland.  - Oceana - A spin off of the word “ocean”, Oceana would likely suit a girl more.  - Shelley - We sell seashells by the sea shore! Tongue twisters aside, seashells are an integral part of the ocean. Just don’t take too many of them home. Each seashell can be someone’s home and is an important part of the ecosystem.  - Mira - Sanskrit for ocean, Mira also has various different meanings in other languages, like “peace” in Slavic.  - Meredith - Thought to mean "guardian of the sea" or “protector of the sea” in Welsh. - Coraline - Loosely spun off from “coral”, Coraline is a popular female name.  - Kai - Kai is a Japanese name that means “ocean” or “shell”. In Estonian, it also means “pier” or “quay”.  - Fisher - A name usually given to males, Fisher is a nice little tribute to our underwater friends, the FISH!  - Finn - Another popular male name, fins are what help our fishy friends get by.  - Beck - Old Norse for “stream”, Beck can also be turned into “Becca”. - Drake - The name Drake comes from the Anglo-Saxon word “Draca”, which means sea serpent or dragon.  - Wade - Before you start swimmin’, you gotta start wading!  - Murphy - Irish for “sea warrior”, Murphy is the most common surname in Ireland and the 105th most common surname in the UK.  - Skip or Skipper - A nickname for “captain”, your little Skip or Skipper might just become one!  - Marlin - Intimidatingly large, super fast, and extremely powerful, the marlin is a predatory fish that’s one of the most recognizable in the world due to its rounded spear extending from its snout.  - Nemo - The world’s most beloved clownfish, don’t let his size fool you. Clownfish are one of the most fearless, aggressive fish in the world and are known for defending their families and homes against animals (and people!) hundreds of times their size.  - Dory - Nemo’s devoted companion, Dory also deserves a mention on this list.  - Morgan - A gender-neutral name of Welsh origin, Morgan means “white sea dweller”.  Final Thoughts - What is a Good Ocean Name  There you have it! Plenty of names to give to your little one that will reflect on your deep love for the ocean. When the time’s right, perhaps scuba diving lessons are on the cards and with these names, your kid might just be the instructor’s favorite! Read the full article

[kushielsmercy]

Belt Out (M) Read on A03 - no real warnings, this one is just horny fluff

“So I’ve been thinking - “

“That always goes well.”

“We should fuck.”

“No.” Geralt says, like he says every Thursday.

“I really think I’ve figured it out this time,” Jaskier continues, undeterred.

Geralt’s phone buzzes in his pocket, the asshole.

Geralt had made the mistake once of trying to get Lambert to swap shifts with him. That was a mistake. Not only does Geralt still manage their bar every Thursday night, but now his work is accompanied by a laugh track of texts from his brother’s checking in that he’s safe from the big, scary, twink.

“Do you need anything else?” Geralt asks.

“Well,” Jaskier turns, putting his hands on his hips and ooking Geralt up and down. “If you’re offering -”

“For your set.”

Julian Prancratz (for the last time, darling, it’s Jaskier. I’m trying to cultivate a certain image here) is twenty-six, looks nineteen, spends most of his paycheck on too-expensive clothes with too-little fabric, and is unfortunately extremely dependable, reasonably priced (enjoy it while it lasts, sweetheart. If it’s any consolation you’ll be able to say you knew me when), and has a knack for building setlists that blend into the background early in the evening and encourages patrons to stay for one round more than intended as the night goes on.

“Of course not, though it’s very sweet of you to ask. I am, as ever, meticulously prepared, a consummate professional,”

Geralt rubs his temples.

“all of my instruments finely tuned, if you get my drift. Always ready to perform on a moment's notice - Ah, Geralt! Come back! You didn’t happen to find a pink belt in the unisex bathroom last week, did you?”

“A consummate professional,” Geralt mimics.

“In all possible definitions of the word,” Jaskier agrees.

Geralt writes getting the last of the taps clean before the evening rush off as a loss and motions for Jaskier to follow. “It’s in my office.”

“Oh, you naughty boy. That’s not where the lost and found is. You knew it was mine, didn’t you?”

“Jaskier. It’s pink.” He realizes his slip too late and groans as he sees a shit-eating grin spread across Julian/Jaskier’s face. But he’s already tried all possible angles of attack and has yet to convince Jaskier that adopting a first name only stage name before he’s hit 100,000 Spotify hits just makes him sound like a jackass.

“You -” Jaskier starts.

“If you ever want to hear it again, don’t start.” Geralt threatens.

Jaskier - for once - doesn’t start, but that also doesn’t stop him from radiating an aura of smugness that’s nearly as annoying.

Geralt’s barely unlocked the door before Jaskier is pushing past him, hopping straight up onto the edge of Geralt’s desk (he better not have ruined any invoices, Geralt swears to God) and spreading his legs wide.

“I see why you spend so much time hiding out back here,” Jaskier says, “it’s nice. Very...soothing, what with all the white walls and cardboard.”

“Quiet, too.” Geralt grumbles.

Jaskier, unrepentant, leans back onto his elbows, arching his back and tipping his neck back in invitation. And fuck, Geralt is so glad his age doesn’t match his looks, because he doesn’t need to add cradle-robber onto his list of sins.

So maybe he’s already admitted to himself that he’s going to do something about this, whatever this is, eventually. He just hadn’t felt the need to let Jaskier in on that little secret yet.

Geralt accepts the invitation to step into his own office, kicking the door shut behind him. He watches the smirk slowly drop off Jaskier’s face as he walks straight into the space between Jaskier’s legs instead of circling carefully around him to access the back of his desk like he would have any time before tonight.

Tonight, Geralt places his hands on either side of Jaskier’s body. He can’t help but feel smug about the hitch in Jaskier’s breath when Geralt slowly lowers himself down, forcing Jaskier to lean back further onto his arms to make space for Geralt’s larger frame.

“Shit, seriously?”

Geralt hums and gently bites under Jaskier’s ear, leaving Jaskier to draw his own conclusions. He leans down further, letting his lips just brush across Jaskier’s (flavored chapstick, really?) as he feels for the top drawer of his desk. Still teasing a kiss, he grabs the missing belt.

“Is this the one?” Geralt asks innocently, pulling back quickly and holding out the belt in offering.

Jaskier gapes and glares at him and tries to catch his breath.

“Nope, no way, not happening,” Jaskier says, “I’m not going out there with blue balls, so you’re either going to finish what you started or you better hope you find a replacement act fast.”

Geralt looks down at him, appraising. Jaskier’s wearing tight white jeans that Geralt would bet good money he’s commando under. It’s a 50/50 shot whether letting him go on the main floor like this would make him a lot of money or result in a public indecency charge.

It’s been a good day. He decides to take pity.

“Come here,” he says, extending a hand and pulling Jaskier to his feet.

“If you’re going to try and push me out of that door like this, I’m going to strongly encourage you to think again for the health of your balls, reputation, and wallet,” Jaskier threatens while letting Geralt turn him by his waist.

Geralt drops to his knees.

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Geralt agrees.

Geralt makes quick work of Jaskier’s belt, a much more reasonable leopard print tonight. Jaskier hips follow as Geralt pulls his belt out of it’s loops and tosses it onto the ground. Geralt takes a moment to appreciate the view and palms Jasker’s cock through his jeans, enjoying how it twitches under his hand.

“Are you just saying hello or do you actually plan on sucking it sometime tonight?” Jaskier says.

Geralt doesn’t respond, instead picking up the pink belt and pushing it through the first loop of Jaskier’s pants.

“Fuck right off with that,” Jaskier tries to bat his hand away.

“Just returning what you lost,” Geralt claims.

“Garish color. Never liked the thing anyway. It won’t be missed.”

“Set starts in ten minutes,” Geralt answers, continuing to thread the belt back into Jaskier’s pants.

“Who cares?” Jaskier whines.

“The owner of the bar whose patrons expect live music tonight,” Geralt answers flatly. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to do anything to tarnish the reputation of such a consummate professional as yourself.”

“I hate you.”

“Been called worse.”

“Seriously. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You’ve got ten minutes. Like I said, real quiet back here.”

Jaskier makes a noise of disdain that has Geralt thinking he might actually lose his best talent (and friend? maybe.) so he relents. Just a little.

“I’ll lock this one up safe for you,” he says, holding up the leopard print belt Jaskier had started the night with. “You can come get it from me after the shift’s done.” He slides his hands up Jaskier’s sides as he stands so there can be no misunderstanding.

“You’ll pay for this, you fucking tease,” Jaskier promises.

“Good thing you’ll have two belts.” Geralt says, and walks away before that one can process.

“Wait!” he hears as he retreats down the hallway, “This belt doesn’t match my outfit! Geralt!”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

a kiss from the moon | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: All these years, all these summers, Jeon Jungkook has loved you. His problem? You have no idea. Mostly because he has always said it far too platonically and thrown up in your lap after saying it. Drunk. Fuck. Oh, yeah, and you're also Park Jimin's best friend since preschool. Shit.

warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining; JK gets distracted by (your) tits during his quest, typical; non-idol!BTS - purple-haired!Jungkook x sleepy af, noona!reader, ft Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung radiating big soulmate energy; childhood friends-to-lovers

yes, it's JK from the 'Butter' beach photos

--

“I love you!”

You lifted your head out of the mountain of pillows, groggy and hazy, squinting at the moonlight filtering through the floating curtains. The night breeze was warm, drifting in softly with the low hum of cicadas. But what was that other sound? That other sound was familiar, wasn’t it?

You heard your name being shouted, followed by, “Wake up!”

You made a face and stumbled out of the bed, sticking your head out of your bedroom window, your own hair flying back and smacking you in the face.

“Yah! Jeon Jungkook, are you trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood?!”

“Get down here!”

You put on your best disgruntled expression and peered down at the form on your front lawn, shoving your own hair aside.

“What are you going on about?” you muttered, seeing Jeon Jungkook looking up at you, puffing his cheeks, long wet purple hair fading to gray because of the chlorine from swimming all night at that party Park Jimin had invited you to earlier today, to which you had responded, no thanks, I’m going to sleep all day, I worked three double shifts in a row and I have zero desire to be flung into your family’s swimming pool at this time, but I will acknowledge that your offer is very generous, and then promptly passing out for a good – you glanced at your phone with the pink bunny case Jungkook had given you two summers ago – ten hours and it was still not enough for you to comprehend why your best friend’s best friend was standing on your front lawn yelling at your parents’ house that you were watching for a month while they were in Italy getting drunk on far too expensive wine and eating cheese they probably couldn’t pronounce.

Jungkook was shirtless, clad only in orange swim shorts and sandals like a fucking hooligan. He was clutching a plastic red Solo cup and he threw it at the house, yelling your name again.

“Oh my fucking God, don’t litter, you idiot!” you bellowed back, throwing yourself away from the windowsill and crawling on the floor to your bedroom door like the evolution of mankind, making it from all fours to two legs by the time you got to the stairs – good thing too, you might have broken your neck if you were still disoriented – and you dragged yourself downstairs, yanking your white slip dress straight. Not your choice of pajamas. Your mom’s, who told you to be more ladylike, whatever the fuck that meant, and who also informed you in the same breath that it was your only choice of pajamas since they donated all your clothes from high school.

Awesome.

You go to university and your parents yeet all evidence that they had a child and go vacationing.

Good for them.

You wrenched your front door open and shoved your feet into your dad’s giant brown sandals and clapped your way over to the pink-faced, mildly drunk, shirtless man in swimming trunks on your front lawn.

“It’s two in the morning. Why are you standing here drunk and professing your love like some kind of deranged Romeo?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Why aren’t you at Jimin’s?” You spied the red Solo cup and picked it up, whipping your head back to Jeon Jungkook.

He was staring at you with his mouth open.

Charming.

He didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds.

“Alright, fine, let me call my loser of a best friend and tell him to pick up his loser of a best friend, so I can go back to sleep,” you muttered, about to turn around.

Jungkook seemed to sputter back to life. “Wait, um, noona–”

“He speaks! He’s not dead.”

“A… Ah… Um…”

You squinted at him and reached up to knock the side of his head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

Jungkook blurted out, “I love you.”

His breath smelled a lot like alcohol.

“Yeah, I got that. You also said that when I got you through your Chemistry and World History exams. Both times. You also say that to like, what, six of your guy friends? Don’t get me started on the amount of times you’ve said it and thrown up in my lap right after. Don’t do that this time,” you added sternly, prodding at his chest. “I’ve got one set of pajamas because my mom forgets that human beings change clothes, so throw up on the grass.”

“Uh… that’s pajamas…?”

“Lady pajamas,” you grumbled sarcastically, lifting the lid and chucking the crumpled Solo cup into your parents’ trash can. “Since I’m not lady enough apparently according to my mom, even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure giant band t-shirts are completely unisex but, whatever, it’s just a dress, not a big deal.”

“Um.”

You looked at Jungkook, who looked back at you, who put your hands up and gestured him to say something, who in response rose his hands and flapped them in confusion, giving you absolutely zero helpful communication. The movement reminded you he had gotten his right arm and hand tattooed in the last couple years, the black ink standing out against tan skin. You hadn’t seen him too many times during your university years, too busy completing research papers and staying late nights in laboratories, only to now end up working on hospital software and sitting on your ass all day. Life, eh? These past three days were spent on working through bugs for the next software update and you had maybe lost all social skills as you attempted to unravel lines of code that you stared at for forty-eight out of the past seventy-two hours.

Fun!

“Do you need a cookie? A shower? The Bible?” you offered, waving your hands. “Maybe tell me why you’re here, yes?”

He was staring and you realized you were slightly bent over in your gesture, your breasts firmly pressed into the cups of the slip dress. You straightened and Jungkook’s wide dark brown eyes went back to your face.

“I… I didn’t realize you had come back, noona.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I told Jimin last week. He said he was hanging out with you and Taehyung. I figured he’d just tell you guys then.”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, gray-purple hair flying about. He pointed to the left, where Jimin’s house was several blocks over. “He only mentioned it just now, when he was throwing up in the bathroom from doing eight shots in a row because Taehyungie dared him.”

“…. Maybe he needs the Bible…” you muttered, shaking your head.

Then the realization hit you.

“Did you walk here from Jimin’s and straight up abandon the party?”

Jungkook tilted his head and thought about it. “Yeah.”

You looked around to find the camera and see if you were being pranked, but there was no camera because this life wasn’t purely for entertainment, right? Nah, this wasn’t The Matrix.

Mhm.

“Hah, well, what’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t go to the party or something? I had three double-shifts this week, I wasn’t going to be any fun passed out before actually drinking–”

“Yoongi-hyung was passed out before drinking.”

“In some ways, I swear that guy and I are the same person,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t go and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really banked on Jimin not being an airhead, but once again he is, so maybe I should reconsider him as my best friend…”

“Noona, I…”

You looked up from your mental consideration of Park Jimin’s pros and cons, the first pro being he punched that ex of yours that cheated on you with some Tinder hookup and that was already enough to stop contemplating, so you blinked at Jungkook curiously, looking into wide brown eyes, long strands of ash-purple floating around his handsome face from the night breeze, brushing against his parted lips, highlighting the mole underneath them, placed perfectly in the center like a kiss from the moon itself.

“Can I take a shower and sleep it off here?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah, sure. You can borrow my dad’s clothes. You should call Jimin though. You don’t want him to panic that he lost you.”

“Y… Yeah, okay…”

-

Jeon Jungkook really thought he could say it this time.

Collected all his courage and ran, ran as fast as he could, couldn’t believe Jimin had neglected to say she was coming home over the summer for more than a day, days without her reminding Jungkook that he was a coward for not saying it when he could have, having lost his most important person in the world because he was too afraid of telling Park Jimin that he was in love with his best friend.

He remembered that smile wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, sitting on Jimin’s bedroom floor, crushing all of them at UNO and cackling as Jimin blew up for ending up in last place for the third time in a row, yelling that the game was rigged, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her tonight.

And he didn’t.

He remembered her saying to Taehyung that she just wasn’t into girly things. They were having this argument over pizza and Taehyung was waving his around saying she should at least try a dress on every once in a while, never know, might actually like it, and her rolling her eyes as she shot back that she didn’t have to do anything just because it was stereotypical for her gender. Taehyung told her to stop using big words and waved his hands, accidentally flinging his pizza slice into her lap, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her after we clean up.

And he didn’t.

He remembered seeing her prepare to leave for university once again, holding a small package from the internet and handing it to her, a small but practical belated birthday gift, both of them surprised when she opened it, not the matte black phone case he had ordered, but somehow mixed up with a pink bunny phone case that had no business being owned by someone who didn’t like girly things.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order this–”

And she laughed, shaking her head. “That’s okay, I gotta go, thanks anyway, Jungkook!”

The years went by and every year Jungkook told himself, this is the one, and every year he just couldn’t say it.

He thought he could say it now, drunk and furious at Jimin for not preparing him for this moment, but on his way here Jungkook figured that perhaps this was preferred, that maybe it was better that he couldn’t sit around nervously overthinking what to say.

But, of course, the problem was…

He had already said it in a platonic way.

Shit.

He really fucked himself throughout the years.

Jungkook sighed, now wearing borrowed clothes, holding the note of her handwriting as he rubbed his hair with the towel.

I washed your shorts and they’re hang-drying now. You can sleep in the guest room. I left a glass of water and some hangover meds. If you need anything, I’ll be asleep but you can attempt to wake the dead if you want.

He walked down the hall, towel around his shoulders. Her bedroom door was open. He stood outside the entrance, sighing, seeing her sleeping form and her bedside table, her phone sitting on the charger.

His breath caught in his throat as he recognized that pink bunny phone case.

-

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“Probably at her parents’ place, confessing his love,” Kim Taehyung snickered, picking up the beer bottles left behind next to the pool.

“Hah, of course he would leave without cleaning up,” Park Jimin grumbled, pushing the recycling bin along as Taehyung tossed each bottle inside.

“You think he’s gonna tell her?”

“He didn’t even tell me,” Jimin muttered, shoving used napkins into the bag hanging off the side of the recycling bin that he was going to toss into the trash later. “I had to find out from you. I think he’s hopeless. Why does he like her anyway? She’s fun to be around, yeah, she’s good at school, yeah, knows a lot of random facts, yeah, if you get into philosophy with her like Namjoon-hyung does, you begin to question humanity and reality, yeah, but other than that…”

“You hitting on your best friend, dude?”

“I mean, she’s kinda hot, she wouldn’t say no to me.”

Taehyung snorted.

Jimin smacked him in the ass with the recycling bin.

“Anyway, he’s probably just standing in her bedroom creepily watching her sleeping.”

-

Jungkook stared down at her sleeping form.

He looked up, looking out the window into the late, late night. He was tired, and yet he couldn’t sleep, too busy wondering.

I don’t deserve her if I’m not brave enough to say it.

“Jungkook?”

-

You squinted at the large form in your bedroom.

“Why are you just staring moodily out the window?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you hungry? I can make you a snack…”

“Noona, do you know what the worst feeling in the world is?” he asked softly, still looking out into the warm night.

You grunted and scrunched up your face. “Stepping on a Lego?”

You heard Jungkook laugh and you smiled a little despite your groggy state, hearing a little bit of his old self, the younger Jungkook hanging out with you, Jimin, and, later, Taehyung, the four of you getting up to no good. Somehow, in the past few years, he had gotten quieter and quieter, at least around you, but then again you only came home to visit for a day or two before going back to university.

“Have you ever been in love, noona?”

“Yeah, with the red bean popsicles they used to sell at the ice cream trucks, but then they stopped, those assholes, I’ve never been so heartbroken in my life,” you grumbled, remembering the day where the ice cream man told you they were sold out and your young teenage heart shattering.

“I love you, you know.”

Was this a fever dream? Why did he keep repeating himself? You looked over to his back, still looking outside onto the street, the street where you all used to run and laugh every summer, pretending you were surviving in the wild and not in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, sitting around sipping lemonade and complaining about the heat even though you all could have gone inside, lighting sparklers at night and seeing whose would last the longest even though such a thing was only based on chance anyway.

“Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” he added quietly.

“The worst thing I’ve ever heard was accidentally hearing Jimin jacking off. Twice.”

Jungkook finally turned around, giving you a disgusted look. “What?”

You placed a hand on your face and sighed heavily, trying not to remember. “For some reason he thinks the bathroom isn’t echoey or something, like, at least do it in the shower, so the water masks the sound…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, I would much rather hear you say you have love for me than listening to Jimin getting off.”

“I don’t have love for you.”

You raised your hand from your face and shifted your gaze to him, half-smile lingering on your lips from remembering Jimin’s carelessness. You made eye contact the second the words left his mouth, those brown eyes shrouded in shadows, but still so clear, a little helpless, a little sad.

“I’m in love with you,” Jungkook whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

A soft breeze swept through the window, lifting the purple-gray strands from Jungkook’s face, revealing his lost, desolate expression.

The cicadas hummed.

A car alarm honked loudly, screeching through the night.

Both you and Jungkook jerked to face the window. You bolted out of bed and you both threw your hands onto the edge of the window, yanking it shut, wincing at the loud noise.

“Ah, jeez… what the hell…?” you groaned, slumping to the ground.

“What’s with people…?” Jungkook muttered, falling to the floor beside you, yanking the towel off his shoulders.

-

“Fuck, I pressed the wrong button!”

“Taehyung, what the hell, turn it off!”

“I was just trying to put the tangerines your parents gave me in my car!”

“I don’t care what you were doing, turn it off!”

-

“Anyway, sorry, you were saying something important and you got interrupted by some dumbass,” you sighed, nudging Jungkook with your shoulder.

“Uh… well, that was it…”

You blinked at him, tilting your head. “What, that you’re in love with me?”

“Y… Yeah?”

You blinked some more.

“Not the, want to go to the arcade and see who can get the highest score in PAC-MAN or go watch shitty action movies and rate the unrealistic plot lines or dare each other to eat whatever expired delicacy is in Taehyung’s fridge, kind of love?”

Jungkook made a repulsed face. “I regret eating that tofu. Don’t think I can ever look at uncooked tofu without gagging a little now…”

You leaned over and caught his eye.

“Do you mean the… want to date and get married and make babies, kind of love?”

His lips parted and the moonlight lit the small mole placed perfectly underneath his lower lip.

A delicate kiss from the moon itself.

Then you realized he was staring at your tits.

You yanked the neckline up a little and Jungkook started, looking back up at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you in a dress, sorry, I’m being really rude–”

“It assures me that you’re at least interested in the making babies part,” you chuckled.

His ears turned red and he reached up to cover them, trying not to look down. “S… Sorry…”

“So…?”

He chewed on his lip, messing with his earrings with his fingertips. “Um… yeah, that kind of love. The latter kind.”

You lowered your hand. “You’re not messing with me, right? I swear, if this is one of Taehyung’s elaborate ideas to mess with me, I’m going to ki–”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, purple hair flying about. “I’m not joking around. I wanted to tell you for a long, long time, but…” His eyes darted about, panicking a little, before looking back to you helplessly. “You’re Jimin’s best friend, besides Taehyung, and what if… what if you thought I was gross or something and then I don’t think I could hang out with you guys anymore, but then you went to that prestigious university far away and I thought, I’m so stupid, I should have said something, anything, but every time I could even think about it, I didn’t know what to say, nothing seemed right…”

He let out a big sigh and tapped his head against the windowsill, closing his eyes.

“Also, I said it before and threw up in your lap right after, so that kinda fucked me up.”

“Can’t say I was really feeling the romance, yeah.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“I’d date you though. For real.”

Jungkook removed his hands and blinked at you. “What?”

You chuckled. “Why are you acting so surprised? I’m not going to date Jimin, blergh, I’ve known that guy since I was in preschool. I’m not dating Taehyung, I’m pretty sure he’s on a different brainwave than other human beings.”

You smiled at him and turned around to pick up your phone, holding it up.

“I don’t like girly things or cute things very much, but I kept your gift because it was from you and, funnily enough, I think it made me realize that I was rejecting femininity because society puts such a negative connotation on things young women like and because my friends growing up were primarily male, thus I wanted to seem cool or relatable so I rejected stereotypically feminine concepts…”

“… What?”

Now it was a confused what.

“Uh, never mind,” you laughed awkwardly, putting your phone back on your nightstand. “Anyway, Jungkook, you made me realize things about myself, and I love being around you, but I thought a handsome guy like you would want to date a pretty girl, and I’m not really that.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in the world. No one could ever be prettier than you.”

You felt your neck heat. “Yo, don’t inflate my ego when it’s not the truth,” you chuckled sheepishly, waving a hand. “You’ve been drinking anyway. Alcohol makes everyone prettier.”

“It’s the truth.”

Was he drunk or were you drunk? Why was Jeon Jungkook getting closer?

“Would you really date me?”

You stared into those chocolate eyes and smiled.

“Yes, I would.”

And you leaned forward and kissed him.

His eyes widened, staring at you and you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, inhaling his scent, memories of hot summers and mirthful laughter filling your head, standing beside Jungkook and kicking Jimin and Taehyung’s ass at table tennis even though Jungkook was doing most of the work, finishing a movie together after Jimin and Taehyung had passed out on the couch on top of each other and talking excitedly about it until you both fall asleep, getting lamb skewers after Jimin and Taehyung went off to eat ramen in a huff, unable to agree on the same meal as a foursome, but it was fine, no, better than fine, perfect even.

Because you were with Jungkook.

You broke the kiss and opened your eyes, smiling at him.

He blinked slowly, looking down at you.

“Noona…”

His hand raised, fingers spreading out longingly. You quickly reached up and pushed it back down.

“Jungkook, I swear, I do want to touch you in a less than holy way, but maybe not when you’re wearing my dad’s clothes, including his underwear, because that’s really fucking weird.”

Jungkook looked down at the brown t-shirt and beige shorts. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“You know, come to think of it, I feel like Taehyung has slowly stolen Jimin from me over the years, so maybe this was fated…” you mumbled, remembering at the moments you had shared with Jungkook were because your other two friends had abandoned you.

“I feel you, sometimes I feel like a third wheel…”

-

“I’m so sleepy.”

“I’ll tuck you in first, but I’m going to get us some water so we don’t die tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh, Jimin, bring another pillow please.”

“Hah, fine, but you’re buying breakfast tomorrow…”

--

masterpost

[what-big-teeth]

Punish

And it’s finally done! Thank you all for being patient with me as I finished this piece! I hope you all enjoy! Gender Neutral Reader x Male Monster tw: mentions of infidelity ; general violence  The ceremony is everything your best friend imagined it’d be and more. 

It’s a winter celebration held within an old church with long ties to her paternal family, officiated by her German-born uncle. The cathedral is decorated in carefully chosen whites and dusty blues, reflecting the cooler colors just beyond the towering stained-glass windows.  Emma stares at her husband-to-be with tears dotting her lashes and a loving smile on her painted lips. No objections are made when the time comes. 

And so, when her uncle happily pronounces Emma officially wed, as she walks hand in hand with her husband down the aisle to a joyous uproar, you can’t help but think everything is perfect.

And yet, a twinge of doubt remains. 

All attempts at mental self-soothing fall short as Michael’s behavior draws your attention. Was it the way he cut the cake, his hand loosely clutching Emma’s? Or the way he fed her a piece with a too-flat smile? 

Even now, as one of her relatives happily proposes a toast to the new couple, the true shine in Emma’s eyes is missing from Michael’s. The champagne flows bitterly down your throat, nearly forcing you to cough. But a warm, wrinkled cream-colored hand smooths across your mid-back. Emma’s paternal grandmother, Greta, leans closer as not to interrupt the festivities.

“Are you alright, dear?

You nod, clearing your throat.

“I’m fine, Omi. Some of my drink just went down the wrong pipe.”

Omi takes a moment to look at you, to ensure you’re truly alright. She then nods, as any grandmother would after ascertaining their grandchild is sound. Seeing as how Omi quickly took you under her care after meeting you, she’s honestly your grandmother in every sense save for blood.

“Be more careful in the future,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Emma will worry her head off about you, even on her special day.”

If Omi was your honorary grandmother, then Emma was the older sister you never had. Losing your parents at a young age to a car crash left you in the care of your paternal aunt and uncle. And while both were kind, there wasn’t a true closeness between the three of you. Both your caretakers were a generation older than your parents. Making any and all attempts to connect harder. Your overall relationship with them is cordial, but not as closer as they perhaps hoped. 

When you met Emma early on in high school, you found a kindred spirit and became part of her family overtime. Keeping in touch had never been an issue for you two, which is why you’re now at her wedding. 

Both Emma and Michael’s families lose themselves in conversation, the selection of German beers and wines, and the delicious cuisine familiar to her side of the family and you. Even as he nurses one of the higher-grade beers, Michael looks strangely uncomfortable in the midst of things. In fact, both Emma and Michael don’t fit in with the happy scene.

Her attempts at catching his attention is barely successful. He’s more occupied with his empty wine glass than anything else. Emma places her cream-colored hand onto his shoulder, only for him to suddenly stand. He steps away from the bridal table without so much as a glance towards her. 

But her worried, green gaze catches yours. You nod at her with what you hope is a reassuring smile, rising to your feet. Quickly reassuring Omi, you follow after Michael at a leisurely pace. There aren’t too many places he can go to inside of the event hall. But the most obvious sticks out in your mind immediately. 

You spot the hinged, heavy door to the unisex bathroom slowly closing shut. Even with no-one around, your sense of propriety won’t allow you to enter the single-stall. And waiting around for him to come out would leave a bad taste in your mouth. You turn on your heel only to bump face-first into something solid with a squeak.

With a wriggle of your smarting nose and a few blinks, you look at the sudden roadblock. A man stands before you, wearing a simple black tuxedo accented with a deep red pocket square and dress shirt. His dark, wavy hair is strangely wild and contrasts against his pale skin. But it oddly works, more so as the strands obscure his bright, amber eyes.

“My apologies,” he says with a deep timber. It doesn’t help that he has an accent you can’t quite place. “I was expecting a little mouse to be the cause of such a sound. Though I can’t say I’m disappointed with the true source.”

You ignore the heat building in your cheeks. Thinking of the horror stories you’ve heard about horrible hook-ups at weddings helps you focus. 

“I-it’s fine,” you mutter.

“Such a worried expression tells me otherwise.”

For some reason you can’t determine, the lie you attempt to build crumbles under his patient gaze. 

“The groom left the reception without warning. Emma wanted me to check in on him.”

The man keeps his eyes leveled on your face. He rolls the end of a dark coil between his fingertips then lets it go. 

“Perhaps something at the reception didn’t sit well with him?”

No, that wasn’t right. You hadn’t seen Michael eat anything from any of the buffet tables. In fact, now that you think about it, any hint of Michael’s preferences in the spread was nowhere to be found. Emma had excitedly told you about the selection of foods that she’d picked out month before. But she hadn’t mentioned Michael’s input at all.

“The thing about these sorts of events,” the man says, “is that not everything is as it seems.”

For a moment, you swear that as he smiles, his incisors sharpen. And his hands, which smooth down the lapels of his suit…had his nails always been so sharp?

“A charming veneer can easily hide a rotten core. Remember that, little mouse.”

Your features scrunch together as you gently shake your head. 

“What are you—”

A horrible screech silences you, overriding your thoughts. Your neck muscles almost strain from your head turning so quickly.

Michael stands in front of the restroom door, his jacket in bundled heap in his bent arm. His white dress shirt is horribly wrinkled and his tie barely in a knot. All attempts at smoothing both down fail. 

One crease in particular sticks out to you. All thanks to the pinkish stain smeared into the fabric.

“…were you talking to?”

Your eyes snap up in time to see his quizzical stare. 

“D-did you say something?”

Michael smiles at you. It’d be a charming gesture, but it doesn’t reach his blue eyes.

“I asked if you were talking to someone.”

You turn to motion to the stranger behind you, but only find an empty hallway. 

“Well?” he broaches again.

“I was…just talking to myself. Anyway, Emma asked me to check on you. She wanted to know if you were alright.”

His smile tightens as he claps a heavy, tanned hand onto your shoulder.

“I’m just fine,” he says. “Just needed some time to myself.”

He breezes by you without another word, back towards the main room of the reception hall. Instead of the cologne you expect, a sickly, cloying scent trails after him.

You stomach drops as your breath catches in your throat. A small part of you screams to tell Emma, or at least Omi. But something compels you to keep quiet. 

The feeling reminds you of the man you bumped into earlier.

Fighting against the shudder racing down your spine, you follow after Michael, wincing at the lingering perfume in the air. 

You hope with all your might that your assumptions are wrong. 

But that same, small part of you knows you aren’t.

____________________________________________

In just three days’ time, on the snowy night of Christmas Eve, you’re proven horribly right.

The cloying perfume clinging to Michael, the pink stain on his dress shirt, the too-tight smile he gave you…all signs of infidelity. But the absolute horrible part of the truth churned your stomach. 

When cornered by Emma, Michael admitted through bared teeth that he didn’t care for her at all. Just the valuables he’d spot on her person, in her home. The items that were family heirlooms, that she earned all her own. The truth left her stunned and frozen in place; Michael wasted no time in leaving, not even taking care to close the door of the cabin resort behind him. 

After emptying her stomach in the bathroom, Emma was able to call you through her deep sobs, begging you come over. You didn’t hesitate at all, leaving your own cabin to rush over to her. When you arrived, you were surprised to see no signs of her Uncle Roland, her parents, or Omi. But when Emma admitted in a quiet voice that she couldn’t bear to tell them the truth, you understood. If the news was so shocking to her, then you both could only imagine how her family would handle the truth. 

That admittance leaves you both sitting before the crackling fireplace wrapped in thick blankets, nursing warm mugs of chamomile tea.  Emma looks ready to drift off at any moment; the swollen, red bags under her eyes and her drooping lids tell you as much. Slowly, and so she can see you, you take her mug and place it on the ground beside you. 

“N-no,” she mutters, “I should be awake in case he—”

The cabin door slams open. You recover from wincing at the sharp impact against the door stopper and shoot to your feet. Michael stands just before the doorway, clothing askew and snow dusting his shoulders. Seeing his face littered with kiss marks and a satisfied grin on his lips makes your teeth grit.

“Get. Out.”

“And who the hell are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do? Last I checked, my name’s still listed as the renter of this property. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Emma shrinks further into herself in reply, refusing to look his way. Michael laughs.

“If all it took to shut you up was being honest, I would’ve done so a long time ago. But then, the plan wouldn’t have worked out, now would it?”

Michael inches closer but you refuse to let him cow you. You stand your ground, fingertips digging into the ceramic of your mug. 

“I said pack your shit and leave, you son of a—”

Pain blossoms across your face. The force behind it sends you sprawling to the ground, your mug spilling its contents. You think you hear Emma scream against the ringing in your ears. But it’s nothing compared to the ticking of the clock. Heavy. Tense. 

Midnight strikes. The fireplace snuffs itself out during the first chime. The electrical lights flicker, then die as Michael mutters in confusion during the second. A gentle warmth envelops you during the next. Emma. Tears slide down her face, her words almost muffled by the throbbing in your head. 

The smell doesn’t help. A pungent sootiness and smokiness that grows stronger and stronger. Emma’s gaze darts away from your face. You hear a scrapping noise coming from inside the chimney…like nails on a chalkboard…

It ends with a heavy ‘thud’, then silence.

“W-what in the fuck?!”

You can make out the large, hulking shape, even in the darkness. It stands to its full height, revealing a black, furred body, topped with a goat-like horns. Its cloven hooves stamp and drag against the carpet, burning ember-lit prints into the fabric. They’re bright enough to reveal the creature’s long, tufted tail. 

It huffs out a visible, heated breath and lets the large, woven basket it carries over its humanoid shoulder drop to the ground, revealing heavy chains and a coiled whip. The creature fixes its gaze onto Emma with a horrible, razor sharp grin.

“Remember me, Häschen? Or has fifteen years taken away the memory of my swift visit of that one night?

Emma’s pale frame shakes under the creature’s gaze. As its black, rectangular pupils widen and its golden sclerae glow, Emma breathes one word:

“Krampus.”

Emma crumples to the ground with a soft breath. Your throat nearly seizes at the sight, but you’re able to sit up. Your hands tremble, but find the pulse point against her neck. Her carotid leaps against your touch, to your relief. But your safety isn’t assured…

You focus on the creature—Krampus—as he unwinds his black whip, pulling the leather at the base taut.

“There is no need to fear, little mouse,” he says. “Neither you or Häschen will come to harm. I’m only here for the one that reeks of infidelity.”

Michael whimpers out a denial, and scrambles towards the door. But Krampus employs his whip without any difficulty. The thin end wraps around Michael’s neck and yanks, choking off his sobs and slamming him onto his back. His hands scratch at his own skin and the whip. All it does is gradually tighten, as if imbued a life of its own. 

Krampus stalks over towards Michael, letting a clawed hand dart out and dig into his mussed hair. He pulls, revealing Michael’s tear and snot-streaked face. Krampus grins, revealing needle-like teeth that a forked tongue slips through before receding.

“As I said before, a charming veneer can easily hide a rotten core. The girl will be all the better without this worm around.”

A frisson of realization shoots through you as your eyes widen. 

“It’s you,” you murmur. 

Krampus turns to you, ignoring how Michael snivels and begs to be let go. Instead of mirthful glee, his features have smoothed over into utter calm. And his eyes shine with what you can only decipher as interest.

“A shame we couldn’t have met again under better circumstances, little mouse. Perhaps another time.”

Then, without any effort, Krampus drags Michael towards his sack. He wraps chains around his squirming body in a careful manner, as if he’s done this before. He shoves Michael into his sack by his head, pulling away a few locks of hair in the process. Then he hauls the bag over his shoulder and duck into the chimney, returning the way he came. 

Once the sounds of struggling fade completely, the fireplace roars back to life and the lights flicker back on. Even the heavy smell of soot and the ember-lit prints have vanished, leaving no trace behind. As much as the small part of you screams to see where to creature went, you ignore it and focus on Emma. 

You coax her lax body into a more comfortable position, placing a pillow under her head and her blanket over her prone form. Then, after ensuring the front door is closed and locked, you flop down onto the couch. Fatigue like no other courses through your body. You let it take you under.

__________________________________________

Uncle Roland and Omi do their best to comfort Emma the following morning, the former swearing to take Michael to court. Omi, however, doesn’t mention Michael at all. She merely consoles Emma the best way a grandmother can: through listening, genuine comfort, and homemade food. 

You peer over the rim of your hot cocoa at Omi as she finishes drying the dishes. At her insistence, both you have made yourself comfortable with Omi having gently bandaged your cheek. The calm way she has taken everything in stride strikes you as odd…

“You saw him too, right?”

You meet Emma’s uncertain, exhausted gaze as she burrows deeper into her blanket.

“We didn’t…I didn’t imagine that, right?”

“No,” you say softly. “I saw Krampus, too.”

Emma sniffs, then takes a long sip from her steaming mug.

“Then he’s gone for good. We don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“But what if he tries the same tactic again on someone else?” you begin. “What if—”

“The justice that Krampus metes out is absolute,” Emma says resolutely. “Michael will wish he were in prison instead.”

You take Emma’s words to heart. Yet knowing that everything’s been said and done doesn’t stop your curiosity from growing. 

Later that night, when Uncle Roland, Omi, and Emma are all tucked into bed, you pull on your heaviest coat, your warmest boots, and your thickest gloves. Armed with only a flashlight, you step outside into the encompassing night, coming across the main trail that leads into the forest. 

The air grows colder the further you trek away from the cabin. But you have to be sure. You won’t be at peace until you know. 

A gently, growing warmth envelops you when the wind becomes too much to bear. Your eyes slide close, grateful at the wonderful sensation. 

“And why, little mouse, have you wondered so far from your warm nest?”

A shiver runs down your spine, but not from the cold. His voice warms you like the best and freshest brewed cup of tea. And as your eyes meet his, you realize his gaze has the same effect.

“I wanted to make sure,” you say against the breath fogging your vision. “I want to know that Michael won’t ever come back.”

Krampus flashes you a wicked grin. 

“Is that doubt I hear? Would you like to go to where is now, to ensure he can’t escape?”

“No. I’m not doubting you.” How could you, with the tales Uncle Roland and Omi told you of the mythical being standing before you before retiring to bed? “I just want to make sure when he’s been missing long enough, that his disappearance won’t draw attention to Emma and her family. She’s been through enough already and she doesn’t need any unnecessary drama.”

Krampus doesn’t reply. Instead, he takes a few steps closer and reaches towards you with his clawed hand. His fingertips touch the gauze taped onto your cheek. Yet instead of stinging, a pleasant warmth seeps through the bandage and into your skin. You lean into his touch, holding his gaze and he looks as if he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. 

“What a genuine, sweet thing you are. A rarity in such a world as this. One that I would like to learn more about.”

You can feel every beat of your heart within your chest. It’s a sensation you welcome, more so as it thrills you. 

“I’m not going anywhere until the end of the holidays,” you reveal. “And I don’t have anyone waiting for me back home.”

A deep, steady rumbling emerges from Krampus’ chest. He grins.

“I vow to make this holiday season one to remember, if you will allow me to do so.”

It’s a tempting offer, one you’re willing to accept. Save for one thing.

“And that won’t interfere with your duties?” you ask.

Krampus snorts, now fully stroking your bandaged cheek with his thumb.

“I’ve yet to falter once,” he says. Then, he smiles. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind looking forward to something pleasurable after dealing with the indecent souls in the land.”

You wet your lips with a slow drag of your tongue. It’s an action that Krampus’ eyes follow intently. 

“I accept,” you say.

“Then we have an accord.”

The deal is sealed with a kiss, one that’s both gentle and tinged with just a hint of fang. As if to remind you of the sort of creature he is. All that does is encourage you to ask for entrance, which Krampus slowly grants. The sensation of his mouth against yours warms you from the soles of your feet to the top of your head. And the taste of it… smokey yet bittersweet. It leaves you breathless and clinging to Krampus’ furred chest. He chuckles and brushes his knuckles over your uninjured cheek.

“I just realized…I never learned you name.”

The revelation is announced as a sigh instead of a statement. Not that you find any reason to care now, feeling too good.

“Let’s see if you can get it from me before you leave, hm? Until then, liebling. Pleasant dreams.”

In the blink of an eye, Krampus is gone, but the heat from him lingers, steady and true. With your pulse thundering in your chest, you turn back towards the cabin, looking forward to learning more about your new beau during the remaining nights of the holiday season.

[thearchiveofaus]

The Magnus Archives | Assassination Classroom AU (version A probably)

(long post, so the rest is under the cut)

The archival staff + several other characters are part of some prestigious school’s Class 3-F, for “problem kids” and the bottom 5% of students at the school

Class 3-F always endure horrific discrimination on top of poor learning conditions and it seems this year’s class is no exception

But on the first day of the school year something mysteriously destroys around 70% of the moon, leaving it in a permanent crescent shape

Around a week later, a strange creature appears in their class proclaiming to be responsible for the moon’s destruction, and also their new class teacher

The students are then assigned by the government to kill the creature in one year, during which he will be teaching them both normal school subjects and also train them to become assassins

The unkillable teacher is Elias

(no last name given and also probably no catchy nickname)

He’s not evil or manipulative or anything, he’s genuinely polite and cheery and strict but kind to the students and really passionate about teaching them all

But he’s also really blunt and goofy and extra at times

Appearance-wise I have no idea what he looks like yet (*ﾟｰﾟ)ゞ

but I imagine he’s probably monster!Jon adjacent at least - humanoid but also clearly monstrous, maybe mothy?? wings????, EYES

His expressions do not change (maybe he has no facial features other than eyes at all) but his eyes change color depending on his mood

Normal is emerald green, smug is kinda yellow and glowy, etc.

I imagine he can move and fly really fast but not as fast as Korosensei in canon - Elias goes about mach 16-18 tops, probably

But his reflexes are mad quick it’s really hard to catch him off-guard

Maybe because he’s got multiple eyes and can see multiple directions

He’s also brilliant and can predict people pretty well after observing them enough time

Elias teaches most of the subjects all by himself

Eventually he’s joined by two other teachers tho don’t worry

Adelard Dekker is a preacher turned government agent assigned to monitor Elias and the class, while also teaching physical education and combat (unarmed, with a knife, with two knives, with various guns, etc.) and also marksmanship

Annabelle Cane is a renowned assassin who was assigned to teach foreign languages and social manipulation

Well initially she was aiming to assassinate Elias herself and didn’t care about teaching, but after seeing his dedication to teaching them she decides to stick around

If a student is willing she can also teach them the art of deception, seduction, and/or intimidation as a way to reach a target

Class 3-F is in the school basement, in the area not occupied by the boiler and pipes and other basement stuff

It’s dimly lit and musty, there’s only a classroom and a small and usually understocked science lab, one tiny office (shared between Elias, Adelard, and Annabelle), and a grubby ass unisex bathroom down there

Elias quickly gets fed up with it and digs some big tunnels for them

It’s dark as fuck and kinda spooky but it’s easy to get used to

And Elias put so much shit in the tunnels

There’s literally a sport’s field and marathon track in one of the tunnels so the students can have PE where no one can see?? he tried to add a sunroof to another tunnel??? underground library??? Elias what the fuck

The tunnels do lead to exits above ground in various places, mostly back alleys and stuff, but the students get to class through the main school building mostly

And now for some of the students

Jon was initially aloof and cold to everybody and didn’t trust Elias at all

But then he tries suicide-bombing Elias and he almost succeeds, and he gets both praised for catching Elias off-guard and also scolded for putting himself in danger and after that he warms up to Elias a lot

He’s also really observant and makes notes on Elias’s weaknesses and eventually he warms up to his classmates too

Martin was actually sent down bc he was caught working part-time at a cafe to support himself and his mum (side jobs are against school rules actually)

He’s really sweet and supportive and friendly to everybody but at the start of the story he kinda lacks much of a backbone

Then it turns out he’s got a talent for lying and tricking people and he eventually grows stronger and even gathers the courage to confront his mum

(It doesn’t exactly go well and Martin stays with the Stoker family after that, but he’s far happier)

Speaking of which, Tim’s noticed his little bro Danny acting kinda strange and has let his grades drop to worry over Danny, which led Tim to Class 3-F

Everyone expected him to excel in social manipulation, even maybe taking up seduction, but he far prefers training in marksmanship and has even learned to set up bombs

There’s two Sasha Jameses in the class by coincidence; they’re not blood related (one’s got long brown hair, the other has short red hair; brunette!Sasha is also not white, and ginger!Sasha is taller) but they can work with each other remarkably well

Brunette!Sasha’s actually really smart, but struggled through burnout during the previous year and her grades plummeted, sending her to Class 3-F

Ginger!Sasha’s talent leans closer to disguise and deception as opposed to observation

Melanie and Gerry were both suspended for the first couple weeks, for attacking several students and trashing Mr. Leitner’s office respectively, but they quickly come back in once they’ve done their time

They’re both familiar with Jon; Melanie and him get along like bickering siblings, while Gerry was close to him in first year but they eventually drifted apart

Melanie excels in knife combat especially, and she utterly hates Elias at first and actively targets him

Until eventually Elias protects her from a particularly rash assassination attempt, which earned him her trust, though she’s still mean to him at times

Gerry, on the other hand, is good at both short-ranged and long-ranged combat, and also at making traps

Actually, let’s just say Gerry���s really well-rounded in general; he’s good at a lot of subjects, but doesn’t excel at any in particular

Michael and Helen are both transfer students designed specifically to work together to assassinate Elias; they were intended to be transferred in together, but in the end Michael was sent over first and Helen came later on

Michael is a literal killing machine - a box of guns with the face of a human boy on a screen, meant to provide firepower while Helen attacked from up close

At first he had no programmed personality and only knew attacking, until Elias reprogrammed him and gave him a personality and additional abilities

He installed his program onto everyone’s phones and loves messing with them all, but is really helpful when it’s needed

Helen is considered the superior assassin to Michael, and was meant to cover the short-ranged combat

It turns out that she was actually given this gene thing similar to Elias, giving her similar-ish abilities to her (she’s faster, but doesn’t have the eyes and instead has claws and stretchy limbs(?? maybe))

Eventually Elias convinces her to let the thing go and be a normal student learning with the others

Georgie is in a regular class (3-C), but she’s friends with both Jon and Melanie and regularly defends them both from harassment by other students

There’s also the top five students in each of the core school subjects, all of them in Class 3-A, consisting of Agnes, Jude, Nikola, Manuela, and Jane

(I really cannot think of anything to say about them though ;-;)

Elias’s backstory probably matches Korosensei’s really

World’s deadliest assassin/the God of Death (that’s his literal moniker) is betrayed by his student and captured, then experimented on by some mad scientist

The scientist manning the experiment is Jonah Magnus

Gertrude Robinson was one of his right-hands (who also taught for Class 3-F during the day), but she instead grew fond of Elias and talked to him

And when Elias destroyed the lab in his escape after the moon blew up (because of an experiment rat on the moon surface, it really wasn’t his fault - you might as well read assassination classroom it’s really good and explained in more detail) Gertrude was killed in the ensuing chaos

She made Elias promise to teach the students of Class 3-F for her with her dying breath, and Elias chose to make good of that promise

(I’m also thinking maybe the God of Death doesn’t have a birthname but the disciple’s name was Elias, and the God of Death decides to use that as his own name too)

(that’s all i can think of for now ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ)

[classified-bluerose]

put me back together vii || quentin beck x reader

a/n: sorry for the delay, i wanted to get this just right. i knocked this bad boy out in installments, finishing it up in one unstoppable flow of words. this is not the final part, just so you know. i’m not sure how many more parts there will be, but there will be at least one more.

warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of drugging, obviously some far from home spoilers but i changed quite a big scene (oops) and ofcourse endgame spoilers.

a/n 2: i’m considering expanding this to explore the reader’s relationship with other members of the MCU, if anybody would be interested in that? i have a character in mind that i’d like to introduce, same powers as reader, i’d just be giving her/them a name (it’s actually unisex, really, too.) i’ll see how the rest of this story goes anyway. hope ya’ll enjoy! as usual, edited, unbeta’d etc.

(GIF is not mine)

—

chapter seven: the tremor in a broken heart

—

quentin hates you and loves you in equal measure; you’ve brought a light into his world that he thought was gone for good. you’ve messed up his plan in ways too big to really fix, but he tries anyway.

once he makes it to london he leaves your unconscious form in a locked room, guarded by one of his henchmen. he informs the man that, under no uncertain terms, ‘’ no harm will come to her, understand? ‘’

and the henchman nods firmly - a little thing like you, there’s no danger. quentin presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and brushes back some stray strands of hair from your face. ‘’ i’ll be back soon, ‘’ he promises, ‘’ and you’ll see why this had to happen... you’ll understand and we can be together. ‘’

you moan lightly in your sleep before lapsing back into silence. quentin stays by your side a second longer, before his watch beeps to tell him, the time has arrived for his biggest stunt yet.

remembering the words you said to him not so long ago - ‘’ do it for her ‘’ - he walks down the street, determination in every certain step, thinking, ‘’ i’m doing this for us. ‘’

—

your neck aches. everything aches. you blink awake, bleary, blurry. finding yourself on a thin mattress lazily spread on a concrete floor. your head swims with confusion as you push upwards onto your elbows, waiting for the white spots to recede from your vision before swivelling your head. side to side.

an empty, windowless room. a thick steel door trapping you in - a single plane of glass in the middle, crossed with bars. outside, a single guard, who grunts and then yells at you to shut up as you attempt to wheedle, complain, and threaten your way out.

figuring that it’s not going to work you drop your head in your hands. the only way out now is through stupid powers you can’t access. and all the while quentin is - doing god knows what, really. getting away with murder - the blood in your veins sears white hot. peter. spiderman. gone.

through the surge of dark emotion chewing you up, an idea occurs to you. something you haven’t tried yet, to gain access to your abilities again. you consider the thought for a few long seconds.

it’s like a patronus charm, that works the opposite way. to produce the spell a witch must bring forth a happy memory, whereas with this, with you... only negative emotions can draw out what remains of your abilities.

to draw them out of you this way - forceful, painful, could harm you. could kill you. maybe you won’t be able to control what spills out. but you know that you have to try.

calling on every trauma in your memory, every sickening moment, every sad event, a dull vibration buzzes low in your chest.

‘’ he was my friend - ‘’ ‘’ so was i ‘’

‘’ there was no other way. ‘’

‘’ thanos did exactly what he said he was going to. he wiped out fifty percent of all life in the universe. ‘’

‘’ it’s okay. let me go. ‘’

‘’ and i... am... iron man. ‘’

‘’ part of the journey, is the end. ‘’

‘’ he had to be dealt with. ‘’

something tightens in your chest and explodes with a bang. something akin to the feeling of smoke drifting over bare skin courses through your veins, your hearing sharpens, your vision improves, hell, you can nearly taste the metal of the door.

you eye the door and run at it full-tilt, aiming your shoulder to hit near the handle. the steel crashes off the hinges with a shrieking screech, the guard in the hallway jumping a mile in the air in surprise.

‘’ what the f- ‘’

he’s out cold on the floor before he can finish his expletive, your hands immediately finding the handgun on his hip. a window across the hallway, you head in that direction, frowning down at unfamiliar surroundings.

busy streets, a sea of people moving as one, red buses barrelling down packed roads - a clock tower in the distance.

london.

no time to pause or wonder how the hell you got here - kicking out as hard as you can, a sheet of shattered glass coats the ground and unsuspecting passersby. you land on both feet, turning to the closest person - a pale, wide-eyed lady, clutching at her chest in shock. before you can say anything, an ominous rumble closes in - too close for comfort. you glance up at the sky, at darkening clouds, then look back to the loose circle of people scattered around you.

‘’ get out of here as fast as you can. now. tell everyone you meet. run. go. ‘’ you growl out before pushing past and sprinting in the direction of the sound. running down a long rush of water - the thames, you assume - grey shapes move beneath the blue rolls.

—

‘’ it’s not too late to stop, ‘’ you tell him, a plea clear as crystal. ‘’ you wanna be a hero? you wanna fight bad things? come and work with us. come work with the avengers. or shield, or whatever it is that ends up replacing the avengers. ‘’ you hold your arms open, a welcoming gesture. ‘’ this won’t do anybody any good. ‘’

quentin bares his teeth in a half-smile. ‘’ it’s good for me, ‘’ he corrects, something hazy in his eyes, barely visible behind the lenses of edith, something you’re too afraid to name, ‘’ people will know me, will see me. ‘’

‘’ they’re not seeing anything, quentin, none of it is real! ‘’

‘’ it doesn’t matter, ‘’ he responds, explanatory, ‘’ don’t you see? reality is what i want it to be. ‘’ he grins, wolfish, predatory. gazing at you with sharp focus. ‘’ it could be what we want it to be. ‘’

your throat tightens as you shake your head. ‘’ no. no, it isn’t. reality is what it is and no amount of wishing, no amount of technology can change it. ‘’ you blink back tears threatening behind your eyes, raising your voice to be heard over the crashing sounds of the simulation around you.

‘’ don’t you think i wish you were right? don’t you think i would do anything to be able to create my own little world? a world where natasha romanoff, tony stark, steve rogers, are alive, and with me, and we’re happy? ‘’ a rebellious tear slips out and weaves a path through the dust on your cheek. quentin watches its slow descent, is he even hearing you?

‘’ but i can’t. because it’s not true. it’s not real- ‘’

‘’ what is real? ‘’ the man snaps, face deadly and tone pointed, ‘’ what is real? ‘’

you blink and allow another few teardrops escape. desperately hoping that he will listen, that you can make this stop - make him stop. ‘’ i’m real, ‘’ your voice softens again, but you know he hears you by the pained grimace that flits over his features.

‘’ i’m real, and i’m here. please. just stop this. ‘’

quentin regards you quietly, expression thoughtful. your heart beats painfully against the cage of your ribs, an animal prying itself free. the last moment of hope; that withers away when quentin’s walls spring up around him again and he steps back. he whispers some words that trigger fissure points along the seams of your heart; ‘’ you ruined everything. ‘’

louder, then, more confident.

‘’ it’s too late now. ‘’

he reaches for the device on his wrist and you pull the gun from your waistband.

and quentin, well, he has to give you credit where it’s due. you’ve surprised him, yet again, and he breaks into an amused chuckle at the sight of the pistol.

you stare him down, his hair dishevelled, edith glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose. your own face, bruised and cut, screws up in a grief-stricken expression. you swear you see quentin’s eyes softening before ignoring that thought and taking another step toward him.

‘’ give me the glasses, ‘’ you say, hating the shake in your voice as you speak. quentin doesn’t move.

‘’ i said. give me. the glasses, ‘’ you try again, hand tightening around the butt of the gun. he raises his eyebrows, manic and cocky.

‘’ you won’t shoot. ‘’

you swallow. ‘’ try me. ‘’

a long, tense moment. he studies you carefully, the tight line of your shoulders, how steady you hold the weapon aimed toward his chest. no words are exchanged though there are a million things you want to say to him.

but you won’t let him see you hurt. not again. you’ve been vulnerable with him before, and he will never again have that satisifaction. you swear it.

‘’ one last chance, ‘’ you warn, voice cracking under the pressure behind the words. quentin inhales deeply then blows the breath out slow, still never moving an inch. his hands drop back down-

the shot rings out, deafening, splitting the air in two.

quentin jumps, the bullet whizzing an inch away by his ear. eyes widening almost comically, he stares at you with his jaw dropped. a muscle in your own jaw twitches as you pull back the safety a second time.

‘’EDITH- ‘’

before he can say anything else a blur of red and blue tackles him to the side, knocking the breath from his lungs and the glasses off his face. skidding halfways across the metal walkway, not far from your feet. however you’re too focused on the shifting colors holding quentin down with an unbridled fury - no, wait, how-

‘’ peter? ‘’ you breathe out, and he turns to you. his mask covering his face but you know he’s trying to smile. that’s what peter does, after all, even after an attempt on his life.

quentin’s eyes snap to the glasses and in peter’s moment of distraction, he bucks and sends the kid flying, hitting the railing with a painful rattle. he scrambles for the glasses.

gun forgotten in your panic and haste, it falls with a thud to the floor as your hand stretches out. sparks of orange and blue jump out from the tips of your fingers to engulf quentin’s hand. he hisses, curses, and jerks away- looking up at you with a seething hatred that leaves you breathless.

peter recovers and slings some webs around the other man’s wrists, you dive for the glasses but a drone appears, bullets firing rapidly. sliding to the floor in an effort to dodge them, you accidentally nudge edith with your foot, sending them flying back closer to quentin.

the drone turns its attention on peter and you yell his name - he turns and ducks and ties it up in fluid string, the machine exploding with a bang and crashing down into the water below.

quentin has edith back, now, and suddenly the bridge falls away to leave you in a blank empty space. you barely suppress a wail; how the hell can you even try to escape this?

quentin’s voice breaks the darkness, addressing peter.

‘’ you want the glasses? come and get them. ‘’

there’s a second of still silence - before the edges of the scene begin to tear and shed light, and the more drones peter destroys the more reality comes back into focus.

when the last of the simulation fades, you find quentin on the floor, blood seeping through the grey jumpsuit. you bite back yet another cry, how can you still care after all he’s done?

he speaks some low words to peter, who has removed his mask. the expression on his young face shatters the pieces of your soul into sharp fragments; red eyes, flushed cheeks, trembling lips.

quentin removes the glasses and holds them up to peter. something shimmers just before your line of sight. you frown; and then gasp.

without thinking, the last of your strength gathers, and you launch yourself toward peter, crashing into him from behind. just as the real quentin fires your discarded pistol. his face drops in horror and then he drops due to blood loss. the quentin on the ground disappears and peter grips your face in his hands.

‘’ no, wait, no, ‘’ you pull your arms to loop around his neck, the shot to your shoulder burning - but something else burns low in your gut. something familiar and exhilerating; your healing factor, kicking in. you manage a smile despite the circumstances.

‘’ hey, hey, kid, hey, kid, it’s fine. i’m gonna be fine. ‘’ you cut through peter’s worried stutters and squeeze his face gently. relief takes over for a second.

then, his eyes fall over your shoulder. quentin is gasping for breath. hand pressed to the bloody wound on his belly. your breath catches. peter’s legs fail him and he drops next to the villain, and you don’t need anyone’s illusion tech to transport you back to the worst day of your life.

because here you are, yet again, holding back a screaming peter as he breaks and breaks and breaks, and breaks again until he’s almost slipping through your fingers in pieces. quentin tries to speak. fails. stares at you instead.

‘’ why? ‘’ peter sobs, you barely have the strength left to hold him close, ‘’ why? ‘’

why, quentin? why? you echo the question in your mind, too overwhelmed, too exhausted, too distrustful of your own heart to speak up.

quentin shivers and parts of his body spasms sporadically. he catches enough breath to answer the kid he cut to the bone with betrayal.

funnily enough, it doesn’t make any of them feel any better.

‘’ people needed to believe in something. these days... they’ll believe in anything. ‘’

—

tag list: @djjffkd @kellzogg @bucky4cap45 @tuliptx @evee550 @stargeek727 @hrrykim @angeli-fucking-cat @glitter-rian @ssskeletonsoffun @donkeyshrong @narwhale-overlord

[pixelsandpins]

Ich Erinnere Mich -Fruits Basket Fanfic

Good Times: A Positive Fruits Basket Zine originated in 2019 as a fun Fruits Basket fanzine. As 2020 hit and the world became...well...you know...it became clear the zine wouldn't get the physical release originally planned. Instead, we decided to make it totally digital and offer all proceeds to various charities. This is one of my pieces for it, posted with permission. Buy the full zine on itch.io to see more great fanwork and fan art. Link in source

Hangers of clothing slide, scraping the bar, rattling my ears. I'm searching, searching for the day's apparel. Something light to pair with the boxy, manly, swimming shorts I've crawled into. I murmur to myself. Verdammt. I press my fingers to my lips. How vulgar to say such things even in the solitude of my own house. I consider a lacey pink shirt with bows on the sleeves. A memory flits through my head. A boy, faceless, nameless, one of the multitudes who hover ceaselessly around me, dodging in and out of the shadows of my periphery. "Do you where girl's underwear, too? Paaaannntties? Braaaas?" And they giggled and gagged on their laughter. I would be lying if I said I hadn't considered it. How much of a fuss would it be were I to appear on the beach in a bikini? Polka dots and frills? How even the friends I love like family and the family who've become like friends would have no choice but to waver in their defense of me. I know that's the line even I couldn't cross, that it would be too much. That I should relegate myself to these horrid things I'm wearing now with their straight lines and muted colors. With their total lack of vibrancy and life. Insubordination is also not the point. Satin and ruffles and ribbons and bows are not rebellion, for me. They're not naivety or delusion or stupidity. They're a memory. A memory of when things were softer, simpler, quieter. Before I knew how harsh the world could be, before I waited for the darkness around every blind corner. A memory I can live and breathe in, that I can pull strength from when the walls close in. A light in a pitch black room. A memory that I'm unwilling to let go of. Not yet, at least. Not while I still can. While the mask still sticks to a baby's face and a tiny frame. I find it. A lightweight, white t-shirt, unisex and boring. But it rebuffs sand and sun from pale, easily burned skin. A hat, too, wide-brimmed and beige, to cover blond hair. Partially from the sun but mostly from prying eyes that don't understand. Eyes that just see "different." That see "not one of us." Sandals click and clack as I run across the family grounds to the gate. "Different" and "not one of us" starts even here, the moment I cross my own threshold, and I flee to escape it. If only I had a high collar to hide behind, a curling eyelet sleeve to cover my face and soften the blow. On the street, a car is already waiting. A benefit of the Sohma name. A gift by unfortunate association. I fling my body into the back seat, pressing my knees up to my chest as I land. I take a deep breath then let it out slow. "Guten Morgen!" I chirp like a bird, bright. Squeaking. Is this my voice? It must be, though I don't recall it carrying this broken cadence. "To Shigure's house, please. Danke!" The driver gives me a helpful nod, smiling tightly. I lean my shoulders back against the seat. I breathe it in, black leather worn soft in spots. A memory of my father. One that lives in the present but maybe also the past. A recollection spread thin through time. Of briefcases and polished shoes. Of quick half-embraces behind closed doors. Of secrets and solitude and watching through the glass at a life I could have had. Should have had. I crease my nose against the thought. Try to bring up the scent of my mother. Of her soft, soapy warmth. Like paper and linen and candle wax on a cold, winter night. But I can't find it. It's lost somewhere in the wash of memories, drifting away across the salty sea. I shake my head, trying to dust off the deeper parts of my mind, but it's no use. I sink back into the seat and try not to think.

The driver doesn't say anything as we pull up to the house, just stops the car with a shudder and a shake. "Danke für Ihre Dienstleistung!" I say to him, falling over my feet to escape the car. He doesn't understand me, but that's just part of it, isn't it? The earth is soft and it tries to grab the sandals from my feet. I hop to the path instead, padding across the stones. Branches, flower buds just peeking out from their homes, reach out to me from the forest that encircles the house. This, too, is Sohma land, but the soil here is free of that name, disinherited by those expectations. I feel light. Airy. I waft through the summer air, bask in the morning heat. I let my backpack fall down to my elbows. It's a shield of fuzzy ears and cute, embroidered faces. I don't need it here. "Momiji! Hurry up!" I know that voice, that purr that cracks through the sunshine. It lifts the corners of my mouth, softens the edges of my thoughts. He bullies me. Sharp reflections of pinched noses and flicked ears and punched arms. But they pair with soft hands that pat my head and lay themselves warmly on my shoulders. Love and affection that doesn't know how to express itself. "Did you bring the sparklers?" I nod to the other voice, the soft one that's been shored up with nihilistic anticipation. That's been beaten and broken. Those are not my memories, though I sometimes wish I could share them with him. Not to take them, but to help him bear them if only a little bit. Up on the porch. Through the sliding door. "Momiji!" Tohru, arms wide, stopping herself from falling into a hug. And the world is flowers and fruits, spun sugar petals that kiss my skin and melt into syrup. Every memory she inhabits, no matter how bittersweet, wraps around me like fine wool, hugging me close even though her actual arms can't. I lock that smile away, one of a thousand. A hundred thousand. A million. Unendlich. A voice that reaches back into my everything and paints it all pastel just because they would come to lead me to her. And, yet again, I think if every memory I make from now on should have just a little bit of her in it, I might never dread the creation of them ever again.

[namesnums]

Top unisex names of the 1970s: where are they now?

The below two plots show the top 20 unisex/gender-neutral names of the 1970s, based on total usages from 1970-9. You can see the gender trend (F% share) post-1979, split into two plots for better visibility.

[themockingcrows]

Hands Free

Bit of Service Top!Trans!Dave I wrote while the gender feels were strong. :3c 

This fic is NOT sfw! This fic is available on my AO3! John/Rose/Dave cw: strapons, strapless dildos, vibrators, polyamory, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex When Dave decides he wants to buy a dick, he Rose and John head to the local sex shop to make a selection. The hard part is choosing his new toy. The easy part is the stress testing.

    The first step in the door was overwhelming anxiety and a sense of not belonging, of being alienated and awkward. The second step, though, was much more welcoming and got both John and Dave fairly relaxed once more. Rose strode ahead, practiced and used to the place by now, for she already knew where they needed to go. Or at least where she was pretty sure they needed to go, even if John and Dave weren’t quite caught up to the concept yet. Sex shops could be pretty intimidating if you weren’t used to them, but she hoped they’d warm up quickly.

    There was shopping to do.

    “So, depending on what you want, there’s a lot of options,” Rose explained as she strode towards the dildo section, then further towards the straps. “Are you wanting to feel it too or just let it work its magic on the other end?”

    “Rose, you sound like you work here,” John snorted, grasping Dave’s hand to tug him along to the right section when he got distracted by some of the videos and books on display. “We don’t need kama sutra stuff, dude, focus.”

    “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’.”

    “That’s the plan,” Rose said. “And yes I know I do, but I can’t help it. I’ve visited this establishment many times and tend to source my wares from here because it’s a good company,” she chuckled. “It’s better than ordering online, right? When you can actually feel and see the thing and examine it closely for a first time buy?”

    “I guess you’ve got a point, but that doesn’t explain the mail order stuff you keep getting,” John hummed, eyeing different glass toys curiously. Were they safe? ...Well, obviously they must be or they wouldn’t be for sale in here, now would they. The idea was intriguing though, a different material altogether.

    “Like I said: for first time buys. I can kind of judge by the company if I want to buy something online or not, especially after investigating similar items in here,” she said, giving a wave to the store attendant who called over that if they needed anything to just come ask for assistance.

    First name basis. Rose’s toy box made a lot more sense now.

    Dave, the main reason they were here in the first place, was trying his best to play it cool and was failing. There were dicks of all sizes, shapes and colors here and he knew precisely what he wanted to do to his partners with one. It was just a matter of finding the right fit, the right color and size. The right attitude. His first dick had to be special, but he was grateful for his shades helping to hide just where he was looking at any given time.

    “Where uh. Where the fuck do I even start?” he asked, baffled by the displays. Jelly dicks, glass, medical grade silicone, cheaper materials. Toys that required a strap, toys that worked with a suction cup attachment for a strap, toys that could be inserted into the vagina and used as a functional dildo, double ended dildos. Where the fuck should he even start?

    “Well, your budget first. Then materials,” Rose said.

    “Or just poke around and see what seems interesting then we can adjust based on budget?” John suggested.

    “I’ve got enough to get somethin’ real nice, and I’d like somethin’ real nice,” Dave said. “...I’d just also like to find somethin’ I’d actually use. You remember the packer fiasco.”

    “Ah, yes. The gummy thing,” Rose said with a displeased look. “That was from ordering online and it being a bad material, I think. But it won’t be like that, I promise. We’ll find something you’ll like.”

    Dave made an uncertain sound and tried to relax his eyes in the face of everything ahead of him. So much of it was-

    “Jesus that’s a lot of neon pink.”

    “Mm, yeah.. That’s an issue. But there’s a lot of options too,” she said helpfully. “We can always order online if there’s a different color you want.”

    Dave could feel his palms getting sweaty and his face getting warm as he shuffled from foot to foot, trying to imagine what each of these would be like. He wanted something that could be used on both John and Rose, something sturdy that wouldn’t hurt him. He knew Rose could handle a lot, and John had been topped by her more times than Dave could count already, so size and general shape would be easy to narrow in on.

    “Do you feel much when you’re toppin’, Rose?”

    “Mm. Depends on the toy,” she said. “Some of them I’m only getting off on the fact I’m fucking one of you. Others, there’s clitoral stimulation involved. Some of them even vibrate, remember? I certainly feel that.”

    “...Maybe this is a mistake, you’ve already got so many, I don’t need t-”

    “Dave, we’re finding you a dick, and that’s that,” Rose said, slapping him on the ass when he took another step backwards so he’d step forward and stay on target. “My toys are my own and while you’re obviously free to play with them, I’d like to see what you pick for yourself to fuck us with when there’s an entire store to choose from,” she purred.

    His reddening face went a few shades darker before he nodded and focused more intensely. Okay, come on, Dave. Think. Money wasn’t an object right now, he’d gotten paid and wanted to treat himself and everyone was supportive of that plan. What was something that caught his eye?

    A strap similar to the type Rose wore caught his eye, comfortable and soft but sturdy enough to withstand anything with its well fitting ring. Rose grinned when he picked it out, then cast her eye back to the wall of things… before stepping away.

    “Call me if you need me, I’m going to go take a look at some of the other items.”

    “Me too,” John said eventually, drifting an aisle over to look at the different types of plugs curiously. It seemed like his embarrassment was broken and he was stuck permanently in the curiosity stage of development, wondering at the different shapes and styles as if they were… well. Toys.

    Dave decided to keep the strap, but the choices to make were still overwhelming. Size, shape, color, texture, design, style, sale, no sale, ring or no ring compatible. Slowly he exhaled and reached for the nearest box in red to see what it was up close. Double ended toy. Workable, but not quite what he wanted. There was nothing wrong with it per say, but it wasn’t what he was looking for as far as something that could really let him get his hips working.

    The pink was a bit of a turn off for him, so Dave decided to hunt by color instead, choosing neutral black and white or offsets in interesting warm and cool tones. When he’d narrowed it down to a few sections, he started finally finding some things that interested him. One, first off, was a simple toy for the strap. Utilitarian, decent size and firmness, he was sure it’d work comfortably. He wanted it just for the sake of having it around and knowing it’d work, but something in him said to keep looking. Somewhere here was the perfect dick for him and he’d find i-

    The package was long and thin, deep cherry red and marked for discount. Dave grinned a bit at it when he realized what he was looking at for sure: a strapless toy, bulbed end angled just right to facilitate some friction against his clit while also giving his best to his partners. It sounded interesting enough that his stomach churned with excitement as he double checked the measurements and tucked it into his other arm for safe keeping. This should work.

    This was the one.

    John, nearest in the store, was still fascinatedly looking at plugs, potentially without any interest in buying them. There were as many styles as the dildos, though the shapes were more formalized. Some packages promised amazing prostate massage or perineal pressure, while others were unisex in design. He’d selected a few and was looking at them with his head cocked, weighing the metal one in one hand as if expecting it to declare its weight differently than on the package.

    “Find somethin’ you want?”

    “Ah. No, not this time I think. Maybe next time though.”

    “Ooh, already plannin’ on next time huh?” Dave teased.

    “Hah, yeah I guess. Look at you though, did you finally grab what you wanted? Or… wait, hold on, let me grab a basket,” John said when he realized everything was just just tucked under Dave’s arm.

    “Nah, no need, I got it,” Dave promised. “I picked this dick, I’ll carry it.”

    John grinned at him before rising to his toes to look around for where Rose went off to, peering over aisles before blinking. “Well, I found her, but I dunno if we should bother her.”

    “She’s lookin’ at leather isn’t she.”

    “She’s looking at leather, yes.”

    Sighing, Dave shook his head and walked out the aisle to go the direction John had last been looking in, rolling up on Rose as she examined some different fetish items with a fond eye. She grinned and plucked up a crop, tapping it against her palm.

    “Think I should get it?”

    “If you want? What would you even use it for?”

    “Saving my hand when you two need spanked,” she snorted. “No, there’s a lot of uses for a crop other than just that. Maybe another time, though.”

    “See anything you want while we’re here?” John asked. “Dave’s set. Er. You are set, aren’t you?”

    “I’m gonna be broke after these three things, I’m good,” Dave said, looking down to his soon to be purchases before glancing back up.

    “Mmm… I think I’m good for now as well. After all, the new things Dave’s getting are already going to need a nice thorough testing,” she said, glancing over Dave’s haul with an approving eye. “Wouldn’t want to over decorate the cake as it were.”

    “Maybe I wanna decorate your cake.”

    “I don’t believe those toys come with a cum tube, Dave,” she smirked.

    Face reddening again, Dave adjusted his grip on the toys and looked around to re-orient himself before heading for the checkout. “If we’re done, I’m gonna go ahead’n pay so it doesn’t look like I’m plannin’ on walkin’ out with these things under my hoodie.”

    John hung back by Rose for a moment, reaching up to move some hair behind her ear out of habit before she could do it herself, and grinned. “Think he made good choices for real?”

    “I think so. They suit him just fine. I’m looking forward to seeing him use them, though.”

    “You too, huh.”

    “Dibs on the first round,” she said, smirking when John frowned and let his shoulders drop.

    “Damn it, you’re fast.”

    “Yes I am, you snooze you lose.”

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

    Though Dave was eager with his purchases, he didn’t use them right away. The boxes and strap hung out in his room beside his bed for a few days, being examined and held at different times as he got used to the idea. They were his. He had toys of his own like this now, and he could use them any time he wanted. It was just finding the right time to use them that would take a bit of doing. Nobody wanted to rush him, but everyone was intrigued, so it was down to Dave to make his move when the time was right.

    Time was right when they were all watching movies one night in the living room, Rose trying to work on a knitting pattern she couldn’t quite understand on one end, John draped over the other, and Dave sprawled out over both of them like a warm weighted blanket. Dave knew this movie frontwards and backwards, side to side and back again, and no matter how many times they’d seen it John always paid attention like it was the first time ever. It was kind of cute, really. He waited till a big moment was coming, let it pass, then leaned up on his elbows to start kissing at his jawline when the distraction wouldn’t be an issue any longer.

    John was sweet, responding shortly to the kisses with a few of his own, before going for the dramatic and scooping Dave closer for a deeper Hollywood kiss suddenly enough that the blonde laughed and kicked his feet, disrupting Rose’s attempts at her new pattern. She rolled her eyes but chuckled at the pair of them, and set her things aside before joining the fray, climbing on top of Dave’s torso to plant a kiss against both their cheeks.

    “That was kinda sudden,” John noted with a chuckle when they parted for air, rubbing his cheek where he knew a bit of lipstick was now no doubt smudged.

    “What can I say, I’m in the mood,” Dave murmured.

    “Oh? In the mood?” Rose hummed, kissing the side of his neck. “The good mood, or the passable mood?”

    “The best mood,” Dave confirmed with a hum of his own, shivering at the sudden feel of her teeth on his throat. Fuck his neck was such a weak spot for him.

    “Really now,” John said, opening his arms to hold both of the blondes at the same time, giving them a squeeze. “Mood for kisses? Or ‘get the fuck upstairs’ mood?”

    “Kisses,” Dave said, taking another while John was in range before pausing to kiss Rose instead. When they parted he smirked. “Though I wouldn’t mind the kissin’ takin’ place upstairs. Might wanna kiss more of ya’ll where I can’t reach with clothes on.”

    “Finally going to test your toys?” Rose purred.

    “You know it, gonna pull that shit out like excalibur and resheathe it in the stone till it breaks.”

    “I’m not sure if that’s sexy or not,” John said. “Can we not do the breaking?”

    “The breaking’s the fun part!” Rose laughed, reaching a hand up to comb  at John’s hair. “How about you let us go so we can get off of you and take this upstairs?”

    “Mmmm. Okay. You drive a hard bargain though,” he said, giving another squeeze to the duo before releasing them. Dave and Rose both stood after a bit of untangling, then grabbed a hand each and yanked John up to his feet so he’d follow them upstairs, laughing as they led him along. “You know, the couch would have been fine too.”

    “Says the guy who’s too long for the sofa,” Dave snorted, making Rose laugh as well.

    With a bit of shuffling of positions, the trio made it upstairs and headed for John’s room, home of the biggest bed. Dave made a detour to his own room to get the toy he wanted to try most, bringing the strap and the generic other one for backup in case it didn’t work as expected.

    Rose was already on John’s lap by then, perched on his thighs and giving his neck a good working over while he helped her get her shirt off. Dave grinned and set his things aside before joining in the stripping. Off went the jeans, the hoodie, off went the baggy tshirt and the binder. He took a deep breath when the constriction was gone, relieved to get the extra expansion again. Fuck yeah that was a good feeling.

    “The tiddies have been released, we’re screwed now,” John said. He didn’t always wear it but when he did and peeled it off before getting frisky? He meant business.

    “Not quite yet, but you’re thinkin’ the right direction,” Dave said, going to the box he’d brought in to take the toy out, setting it on the corner of the bed with a grin.

    “I called dibs before,” Rose said, rising on her knees and giving her hips a wiggle till Dave came over and tugged her pants down, leaning over her back as he slipped them down around her knees and felt along the swell of her ass and hip, down to her thigh and back. “I do hope you’ll indulge me.”

    How could he not? She was warm and perfect under him, smelling like her perfume and residuals from her shampoo and traces of incense, and plenty eager to tease.

    “You mind goin’ last this time, John?” Dave asked. “I mean, she did call dibs. It’s illegal to deny a dibs call, I don’t want the cops bustin’ in here and seein’ everyone’s ass.”

    “I don’t mind at all,” John said. “Do either of you mind if I get handsy though?”

    “With those piano hands? Please, get handsy as you want,” Dave said, smirking when John reached forwards to clasp Dave’s ass, squeezing with both hands. “I’ve gotta get that thing in...”

    “Already?” Rose said. “If you can get it in that fast then I wonder how long you’ve been thinking naughty thoughts before acting on anything,” she said as she slipped off of John’s lap to retreat towards the center of the bed.

    “A while,” Dave admitted, leaning back into John’s hands till they went lower and started to feel around. He shifted his legs apart to welcome a hand up front, groaning softly when cool fingers stroked over overly warm lips.

    “Can verify, goddamn Dave, what a mess,” John teased, stroking a bit faster once he reached for the bud of a waiting clitoris, making Dave’s knees weak.

    “ Shit ,” he hissed. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one doin’ the drivin’ people wild thing right now?”

    “You already are,” Rose promised. “Come over closer and help me get ready? If you’re set already I’ve got some catching up to do.”

    John released his grasp on Dave and stood up to ditch his own clothes while the blondes made use of his mattress, Rose propped against the cushions with her knees parted in welcome, breasts falling to either side of her chest in mimic, and those purple eyes watching Dave like a predator as he scooted up to pray at the altar. Down he went to kiss her stomach, her hip, the center of her pelvis, then down lower to her pubic hair and beyond before sighing comfortably and sinking down to his stomach and forearms for balance. He suckled and licked, probed with his tongue and alternated with flat, slow licks, knowing just how she liked to be sampled.

    After a bit of shuffling around, John had returned to the bed and rested on his side observing, idly stroking himself with a smile. Fuck he loved these two dorks so much, Dave with his bangs in his eyes and his face half buried between Rose’s thighs and Rose with her blissful expression and soft panting sounds of encouragement. He stopped his stroking to scoot closer, grasping one of her breasts and rolling the nibble between thumb and forefinger as he caught her lips in a kiss, swallowing down her wanting noises, encouraging her to be louder if she wanted to let Dave know he was doing good.

    The breathy noises gave way to groans and moans that only grew more insistent when Dave grew more intense, pushing Rose’s limits but not giving her more when she wanted it. Fingers? They were there, helping to trace the shape of her, but they certainly weren’t pistoning against her sex like she wanted so badly.

    She’d just have to wait for the show to start for that to happen.

    When his jaw ached and his tongue felt more than a little numb, Dave backed off and rubbed his mouth before reaching back to feel for the toy. John broke the kiss with Rose to grin his direction, curious about how the toy would look when it was in place, curious how it worked. Rose didn’t have one of this kind, after all, so seeing it in action before it came for him would be neat he assumed.

    He settled back and parted his own knees before stroking the toy against his entrance a few times, biting his lip as it teasingly slipped against him. Being in control he was able to start working the bulb against himself more firmly, testing it, spreading wetness here and there before trying again. With a bit of work, the bulb slipped into place, leaving the dildo sticking out front, a ribbed section stretched over his clit and the front of his vulva. Bright red and a little intimidating, he was satisfied with how it looked. Not some faux piece of replacement, nothing flesh toned, nothing too human shaped. It was obnoxiously colored and fit him like a glove, and when he closed his legs it jutted up like a challenge on his lap.

    John whistled appreciatively, but Rose just moaned and rubbed at herself to make up for the fact Dave was gone, hips working now and then reflexively.

    “Think you can take it now?” asked Dave as he rose up onto his knees showily, wiggling his hips. “Check this shit, it doesn’t move when I do, this bitch ain’t goin’ anywhere I don’t want it to.”

    “Dave, I could take it about five minutes after you started to eat me out,” she admitted. “Get your skinny ass up here and fuck me, or I’m going to jump on you and do it myself.”

    “Pillow princess.”

    “Watch it, or your tongue won’t be the only sore thing,” she said with a smirk, withdrawing her hand as Dave crawled closer and tried to get into position. Tried being the key word. This was new, and was taking a little bit of adjusting to find the right angle for, the right position. Dave grasped the base cautiously as he probed at Rose’s entrance, savoring the moment when her eyes fluttered shut wantingly in response, before steadily starting to breach. A bit more shuffling, and he released the grasp on the toy, trusting it to stay in place as he rocked his hips further forwards an-

    “Ow, go a bit slower,” she murmured.

    “Oh, sorry. Hang on, I’ll jus- Fuck, is it coming back out? I can’t tell.”

    “Is it coming loose?”

    “No, no, I just. I can’t tell where things are on this just yet.”

    “You’re doing fine,” she promised, reaching up to grasp at his upper arms, rubbing at them both gently. “Maybe hold the base still, it might help stabilize it.”

    Nodding, Dave reached down to grasp close against his own body before gently trying again. When Rose didn’t complain, he took it as a sign all was well to pull back and gently coax further inside again. When he bottomed out, Rose hooked her ankles around his hips and moaned softly, squeezing at him in encouragement.

    “I can take it,” she murmured. “I can handle it now.. Go ahead and show me what you’ve got, Dave.”

    “You sure?”

    “Damn Dave, I’ve never gotten to see this angle before with you two,” he said with a grin. “Looking good.”

    Dave smirked and took a spare second to flex playfully before refocusing on his task, pulling his hips back with his grasp still on the toy before lurching forwards. It wasn’t the smoothest stroke in the world, but it was still enough to make Rose whimper and squeeze at him for more. Who was he to say no to that? Another pull back and push forward. By the fifth time, Dave was working out the tempo and angle he needed and wanted, hips working in a rhythm he’d dreamed about using them in this position for ages in. Save for the wet noises coming from Rose, and the groans they were both releasing, it was a fairly quiet affair and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

    The angle allowed for him to kiss her, to curl down and kiss her chest, to feel at her sides before he released the toy and grabbed her hips tight, lurching himself forward to hump harder against her body. Enthusiastically, Rose gripped the sheets and tipped her head back, glancing over to John who seemed pleased just to be near them in the moment.

    He was keeping his hands mostly to himself, though now and then he’d reach out to stroke a breast, an arm, Dave’s leg, Rose’s stomach. There was no limit to how long this could go on however, save for Dave’s stamina and their own eagerness. No refractory period like himself, which was half of why he was still stroking at himself. It’d be a shame to get off too quickly when it was his turn with Dave, but getting off once beforehand offered a way to last longer. ...And with the view, who wouldn’t be getting off?

    With the rhythm and angle found, Rose parted her knees wider and spurred her heels into Dave’s ass, trying to help drive him deeper, rocking her hips in time to make the sensations better for them both. Every time they connected bodily Dave was getting rubbed as well, and it was starting to drive him out of his mind. Was this what dudes felt all the time? Friction and delicious pressure and heat and the press of legs around them? The thought of it was almost as erotic as the act itself was, chest to chest and hanging on for dear life to each other as Dave worked his hips at an angle, striving to find Rose’s G spot.

    Judging from the way she suddenly tensed beneath him and cried out, he was pretty sure he found it. That or she was just that close anyway and having that little angle change was all she’d needed to hit her peak. Hard to tell, Dave was just busy giving it all he was worth till she finally shuddered and kissed at him breathlessly.

    “A-ah, fuck. Fuck. I need a breather,” she said, panting when Dave finally stopped stirring her insides around.

    “Yeah?” Dave asked, grinding down a bit, savoring the whimper he got. Fuck she was so sensitive now, the temptation to just keep going was strong… but she’d said pause. So pause it would be. Carefully he pulled back, bracing the toy as he withdrew before sitting back shakily on his knees to pant and observe his handiwork. Rose looked wiped but satisfied, reaching down to play with herself absently before chuckling.

    “Less cleanup than with you, John.”

    “Yeah, yeah, not all of us are that lucky,” he said, already wiping up from his own self realized orgasm with softly huffing breaths. “At least now there’s more proof of how messy you are on your own.”

    “Please, I was hardly alone. You’re in for a treat,” she said with a pleased sigh, stretching in place before slowly scooting away from the damp spot. Whoops. “I’ll change the sheets after. Would you like a towel, John?”

    “Yeah, that’d be good,” he said, already rummaging for lube in the side table after managing a good pot shot with his used tissue into the garbage can. “Should we put a condom on it too?”

    “Mm. Might help. Could be fun,” Rose said as she slowly got up. “Might help with the friction too.”

    “A condom?” Dave asked, surprised for a moment before remembering that a few of Rose’s toys worked better with condoms on them. The idea was kind of erotic, making his stomach warm. It only got more warm as John came and knelt down in front of him off the side of the bed, carefully opening a condom wrapper and unrolling it down over the toy while looking up towards Dave’s eyes. He smirked a bit.

    “You’re almost as big as me.”

    “We in a dick measurin’ contest now?”

    “You know it.”

    “Whip it out,” Dave said with a grin. “I wanna see.”

    Standing up, John stroked himself a few times to get the flagging erection to stiffen again before crouching a bit to get nearer to where Dave was, measuring loosely with his splayed hand.

    “See? Close but no cigar, I win.”

    “Only for this one, your song and dance’ll change when I upgrade to bigger in the future.”

    “Size queen.”

    “Says the dude who can take Asmodeus without flinchin’.”

    “You can too!”

    “...Touch é .”

    “Do my ears deceive me or are we discussing Asmodeus without me?” Rose said as she came back with a towel and draped it on the center of the bed. It appears she’d made a pitstop to her own room as well, a small vibrator in her left hand remaining where it was She blinked and looked at both John and Dave’s dicks before chuckling softly and shaking her head. “I believe in that regard I do indeed have the biggest.”

    “Biggest dick energy,” John chirped.

    “I’d pay you money to never say that again.”

    “I’ll pay you twice as much to say it all the time,” Dave countered.

    Rose tapped a finger on the tip of his dick in a steady but firm pattern, toying with the reservoir tip and making the toy nudge along Dave’s clit all over again till he groaned. “Let’s focus now, Dave. We’ve got to get John ready for his turn. It’d be rude to leave him waiting.”

    Taking his cue, John slipped his long legs up onto the mattress and stretched before getting comfortable on his back. He paused and lifted a leg curiously, miming rolling over. “Wait, should I be on my knees instead?”

    “Could Dave reach properly if you were on your knees? We don’t have a ton of cushions in here to prop you up.”

    “...Back it is.”

    Taking the lube in hand, John was about ready to douse his own fingers in it before Rose caught the bottle and took it from him, perching beside his hip.

    “Oh, no, allow us.”

    “Us?” he asked.

    “Of course us. Dave did an excellent job of getting me ready, I thought I’d pass it along and help get you ready. Dave’ll help as well.”

    “Oh,” John said as he realized, relaxing back and parting his legs a little less shyly. Rose gave him a generous dollop of lube before handing the bottle over to Dave, letting him apply some to the condom’s exterior for that extra bit of slipperiness they’d need.

    “Think I’ll be able to find your prostate easy enough?” Dave asked as Rose bit the side of John’s neck and gently started to tease him open with her right hand, sitting back on his heels. He found himself idly stroking the toy even once the lube was in place, enjoying the bit of friction it gave him. It felt good in his hand, firm and solid, just weighty enough inside his pelvis that the shifting was delicious.

    “If you can’t that thing’s a-ah ow.. Easy Rose, maybe add a bit more?” John stopped, smiling when Dave leaned forward to add another dollop for her to work into him with. When he was comfortable again with the fingers within him he sighed and let his head drop back. “If you can’t find it with that thing, then either it’s gone missing or your dick’s defective.”

    “Pretty sure it’s not defective,” Rose said. “I quite like it after all.”

    “Pardon me, our preferences don’t always overlap,” John sniffed, trying to sound snooty. “There’s a chance it might not be up to snuff for me.”

    “Please. You’ll be beggin’ for more once I start nailin’ you,” Dave said confidently, placing his hands behind his head and giving his hips a showy rocking once he sat up onto his knees to be more in view on the mattress. John whistled, though it shook and died down when Rose started moving her hand faster with crooked fingers, making him shiver in place.

    “Jesus, Rose, just like that.”

    “Think you’re about ready? You don’t need as much work as with Asmodeus for this,” she murmured near his ear, kissing it before nipping the lobe playfully.

    “Y-yeah. Yeah, I think I can take it,” John said, looking past Rose’s pale sheet of hair to look Dave up and down. “Jesus though, you’re looking like a snack like that Dave.”

    He smirked, striking another pose, then another, then flexing before kissing his own bicep near one of the moles. “Hell yeah I do, I look like an entire goddamn buffet.”

    “Will you two stop flirting before he tenses back up again,” Rose said with a smirk of her own, wiping her hand off on the towel before resting a hand across John’s chest. “I want to see the doofy face he makes when he comes.”

    “You already know what that face looks like!”

    “So? I’d like to see it again.”

    “Easy, easy,” Dave said as he scooted closer. “Okay. I think this’ll be like how it was with Rose,” he murmured to himself, bracing the toy with the back edge of the condom between his fore and middle fingers from above. “Just gotta find the right angle and-”

    “Uh. Dave, a bit lower,” John said, rising up on his heels to give an example of how far before resting downward again.

    “Oh. Right, yeah, sorry man.”

    “It’s all good,” John promised. “Just a bi- ah. There. Yeah, you’ve got it now,” he said, voice altering a bit to something lower and warmer when he could feel Dave probe properly at him.

    “This angle?” Dave confirmed, before gingerly pushing further in a few inches. When he paused, again bracing the toy as he backed out, it was with more confidence that he pushed back in. Soon enough he was working up a rhythm, every so often submerging more of the toy within John till they were flush and Dave felt confident enough to release his grasp on the dildo’s back edges. In and out, nice and easy, same as he’d done for Rose. The only difference this time was when legs came around his hips, they wrapped much further around the outside of his own body and long leg hairs tickled at the bare skin of his sides.

    They were similar in the ways that mattered though, as far as Dave was concerned with trying his best to please them as their service top du jour. Both of them made the most delicious breathy noises when they were being hammered into, they both gripped at the bedsheets with white knuckles, they both moaned and groaned like breathing when just the right angle was found inside of them and neither of them knew how to stay still. Though bigger than both he and Rose, John writhed with the best of them when Dave found his prostate, voice going high and desperate as it started to spur his second orgasm closer faster than he’d assumed it would come.

    There was just something about a new toy on a new body that really turned John’s cranks apparently.

    Soon enough John had spilled up against his own stomach, but he didn’t call it quits. Instead he curled forward to kiss Dave on the lips while he continued to energetically work against his body, panting in tandem as he was jostled by the movement. Only when the sensitivity was too much did he call it quits with a shudder, pressing on Dave’s shoulders to call him off.

    “Hoooly shit, okay. Yeah, that’s a keeper,” he decided.

    Satisfied, Dave pulled out and removed the condom from the toy to dispose of in the trash. While still standing he popped a loose squat and dislodged the toy with a sigh, standing straight on shaking legs afterwards, grinning at the pair still on the bed.

    “Dave? Come here,” Rose purred. “Your reward is waiting,” she said, holding the vibrator she’d procured up, clicking its on button on so it buzzed to life.

    Dave didn’t need to be told twice. He’d dropped the toy and was on the bed in an instant, nestling in between John and Rose to rest on his side comfortably as Rose sidled up behind him and slipped the toy between his legs on the low setting, the buzzing working directly against his sensitive folds and worked over clitoris. He arched his back and jerked in place as he adjusted, panting breaths coming back when John covered his mouth with his own, fingers tangled in his pale hair. Rose kissed along the back of his neck and worked a hand beneath him to hold him around the slender middle, bracing him back against her own warm body when he shuddered.

    He was overwhelmed. Everywhere was a mouth, a hand, touching, tasting, stroking, and through it all the toy drove him up the wall. He came once, hard, but Rose didn’t stop. Instead she turned the speed up to medium and made him whimper, not wanting to call it quits yet. Not yet. Dave could still remember legs wrapping around his body, the luxurious sensation of rocking his hips into his partner’s bodies, the tang of Rose on his tongue, the taste of John on his lips.

    The buzzing grew more intense as Rose switched it to high and jiggled the toy teasingly, making Dave lurch his hips against it needily, toes curling. So close. He could feel it coming like a storm someone sees from a ship, all around them but not there till it was right on top of the bow, shaking the hull and everything within it within an inch of their lives. Dave’s second orgasm hit like a freight train and he cried out into John’s lips before instinctively retracting his hips from the toy.

    Rose turned it off and let the toy drop, rubbing his abdomen gently as if congratulating him. John let him breathe, but swung a long arm over both the blonde’s to hug them tightly, cuddling them good and close before swinging a leg up over Dave’s body to rest a knee on Rose’s thigh.

    “I think… I think I like my dick,” Dave finally said when he could think straight.

    “Me too.”

    “I concur,” Rose said. “You made a good choice, Dave.”

    “Heh… Fuck I love you guys,” he murmured.

    “Will you love us more with a shower?” Rose asked. “As much as I enjoy the sensation of dripping with my own fluids, it does start to feel less appealing after a while.”

    “Mm, yeah, a shower would be great,” John agreed. “Last one there’s a rotten egg?”

    “I’m rotten, carry me,” Dave said dramatically, “I can’t feel my fuckin’ hips.”

    “Right. Two good eggs, one rotten one,” said John, standing up and then bending to scoop Dave up behind the knees and back. The gentle hold lasted a moment before he shifted his weight and settled Dave on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes instead, slapping his ass a few times.

    “Augh! Dick!”

    “No. Ass. Dave do you need another anatomy lesson?”

    “A nice thorough one,” Rose crooned.

    Dave had a distinctive feeling his shower wasn’t going to be that restful… and welcomed it.

[itsmyusualphannie]

something wrong in the village

Chapter 3/5: leviticus Beta: @candanandphilnot Rating: T Warnings: Transphobia Read on ao3

Summary: Fiona Lester has a secret. Dan Howell thinks they hate each other. Dan meets an online friend and comes to realize something important about himself while juggling a changing relationship with his parents, friends, and Fiona.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

"Daniel!" bellowed Dan's mum, the morning after the end of the festival and, really, too early for anyone to be speaking. "Ten minutes, let's go!"

He didn't move from his slumped position before his laptop, fingers rapid over his keyboard as he thudded out replies on the chat feature in the 'FRIENDS' website. He had made two other matches in the past week, but had ignored them both and hadn't been bothered when he didn't receive a message either. Dan didn't think anyone could measure up to his current conversational partner.

No it's definitely a sock monster! read Phil's most recent insistent message.

you just don't want to admit that you lose your socks, tapped Dan immediately. His fingers hovered impatiently as he waited for a reply, which took less than ten seconds to pop up.

listen, the message read, and Dan could almost hear a stern, disembodied voice informing him of this, my mismatched socks are an aesthetic choice. No judging!

i'm judging, Dan replied. He wasn't particularly judging, really, but it was so fun to rile up Phil - and so easy, too. Dan lost his socks too, just not as often as Phil apparently did. Evidently, it was almost a daily occurrence with him.

A brief, intrusive thought informed Dan that he knew people in real life who lost socks, too. At the festival yesterday, Fiona had been wearing sneakers with brightly patterned mismatched socks. Not that he had been looking at her feet. That would be weird.

:(  was his reply from Phil. There was a pause, and then another message popped up.

come on, you have to have weird habits too. not that wearing different socks is WEIRD. haha. tell me your secrets

Dan snorted hard through his nose, and regretted it when it stung. He swiped at the burn and then typed out, i have no secreets? I am the most well behaved guy you'll ever meet. The instant the message sent, his fingers spasmed with the sudden desire to take it back. Because, you'll ever meet was an accident. Dan had known Phil for three weeks, and he certainly felt like he knew the other boy far better than any of his other friends, but something squirmed inside Dan whenever he entertained the idea of meeting this faceless friend. What if Phil was just some old fifty-year-old woman getting her kicks by chatting with a teenager?

Well, Dan doubted that. Phil's knowledge of TV shows and video games was perfectly age-appropriate for a 17-year-old boy. According to the website, he lived within 50 miles of Dan as well, so there was still that tiny chance that Phil even went to the same school as Dan.

Dan, maybe, had thought about that, and had wracked his memory for any 'Phil's at his school, but had come up with nothing. It had been a far stretch, anyway. There was just that small part of Dan that desperately wished for an actual, real-life friend that he could talk to, and share inside jokes with, and laugh about ridiculous jokes, and play video games, and watch movies. He did that with his group of friends, sometimes, but it wasn't like Dan had always thought about when he imagined having a best friend.

That's what he wanted, really. A best friend. And wasn't that who Phil was shaping up to be? They already got along so well...but that could change if Phil actually met Dan. He might realize then, that Dan was the weird, friendless type of loser that actually signed up for a friend-matching website. Well, Phil had done that, too. Dan had a feeling that it was more because Phil was bored, though, and not for any ironic sort of reason.

"Dan, I swear to god!"

The yell from his mum broke Dan from his thoughts, and he jolted his concentration back to his laptop, where two messages were waiting from Phil.

no secrets, sure, read the first message, and then, i still don't know your name lmao.

Yeah, Dan realized. He'd typed 'Bear' as his username those few weeks ago. Phil clearly knew that it wasn't his actual name. Phil didn't know that it was a cheesy nickname his parents used to call him. Potential best mates had to know real names though, right?

With that hesitant thought encroaching upon him, Dan quickly hit out an answer and then sent it. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his backpack and shoes, and left to grab breakfast and head to school. The laptop, left open in his haste, still revealed the last message he had sent.

my name's dan

~~~

Dan hadn’t seen Fiona all day.

It’s not that he was looking for her. Dan had no reason, none at all, to actively search her out. He wasn’t interested in what she was doing. Well, he amended to himself, it was good to keep tabs on his mortal enemy. So perhaps it was a bit concerning that he hadn’t seen her all day.

It wasn’t that unusual. They only had two classes together, both of which were on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today was only Monday, so it wasn’t impossible that Dan would not catch sight of Fiona the entire school day. It was just...it was Monday, and she had been acting strangely at the festival yesterday, and it was probably because of Dan’s lingering headache that thumped in quiet tune to the drums from the Muse concert, but he almost wanted to seek her out.

It was foolish, of course. One shared moment at a music festival, still riddled with insults and clear distaste for each other, was nothing that could erase the years of mutual spite for each other. It was just odd. Dan may have been just a bit intrigued to find out why she had been acting the way she was. Just a bit, though.

“Danny boy!” bellowed a voice down the hallway. It was milling with students slowly collecting their day’s items from their lockers as they chatted. Dan himself was standing in front of his open locker, staring bleakly inside as he pondered the Fiona conundrum. He let his gaze drift slowly toward the mutilated call of his name, eyes bleak. He knew who it was.

The boy jogged up to him a moment later, a grin spread wide on his face. “Mate,” he said, “you gotta come fuckin’ see this.”

Dan didn’t particularly want to come fucking see anything, but he reluctantly shut the door to his locker and followed his friend anyway. ‘Friend’ was a loose definition of their relationship, but Dan didn’t have anyone much closer than his small horde of acquaintances, so he took what he could. This boy just rubbed Dan the wrong way sometimes. He was Australian, which wouldn’t mean much other than the twang of his accent, but he also liked to loudly introduce himself as ‘Sam the surfer!’ to everyone he met as if the fact that he could belly flop on a piece of styrofoam in water had earned him some sort of official title. As he couldn’t exactly ride any waves around town, he rode wheels instead, throwing himself with fervour down pavements and the occasional hallway on his favourite skateboard. He’d been adopted into Dan’s friend group when he’d almost run over Dr Pentland. That, at least, Dan could admit was funny. He’d seen the principal’s shocked face as she’d reeled backwards from the boy zipping past. Although it had morphed into irritation a moment later, the look had been priceless. Dan had snapped a picture of it. That single photo had earned his place in the friend group as well.

“You’re gonna love it,” Sam assured Dan as he trotted down the hall, waving Dan on impatiently. “The rest of the boys are already there. It’s bril.”

Dan hefted his backpack further up his shoulder and followed. Sam ducked around the corner and then into the bathroom. A girl squeezed past Dan to make her way into the bathroom as well, so Dan paused for a moment to let her through.

The school was definitely saving money on this bathroom. They’d slapped a unisex sign on it last year and shut down the other bathroom, claiming diversity for all genders. While Dan thought it was a great idea, he also thought it was bullshit. They could have very well made both bathrooms unisex, but had downsized instead. Now students were more cramped and the bathroom smelled even more like piss than usual.

“Oh, here,” said Sam as soon as Dan ducked into the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind him. He thrust a slender object into Dan’s hand, then turned back toward the group of boys huddled around the corner of the room next to the line of sinks. Another boy was washing his hands next to them, but he just cast a curious glance over at the crowded corner and then left. The girl who Dan had followed inside slipped into a stall, the door creaking ominously as she latched it shut.

Dan only realized that the object in his hands was an uncapped marker when he made his way over to the corner and glanced over the shoulders of his friends. They were talking amongst themselves, but quietly and full of mirth.

“Hey, Danny boy, gimme a hand,” one of the boys called over his shoulder, and a few stepped aside for Dan to step through. He did so, but almost reluctantly.

It was then that he found what they were so focused on. Someone, certainly not one of the boys here now, had drawn a delicate, flowing transgender pride flag. The pink and blue colours were bold and bright, striking against the faded grey chalk tiles.

The boys, uncapped markers obvious in their hands, had drawn crude depictions of genitalia and scrawled slurs around it, but the largest defiant symbol was a massive circle drawn around the stolid flag and a slash drawn across that, clearly defining the group’s feelings about the matter.

“Bril, innit?” Sam chirped.

Dan’s throat hurt suddenly, for some reason he couldn’t identify. His headache, just background noise all day, came to the front of his brain with full force. He didn’t say anything.

“Come on, you’re an artist, right?” urged the boy in front. “I figured you’d have something great to draw. Like tits or summat, I dunno.”

Dan’s limbs were lead weights at his side, his tongue thick and useless in his mouth. He couldn’t - wouldn’t do anything.

The latches to one of the stalls on the far side of the bathroom clicked, and like an encroaching train wreck, Dan’s gaze followed the noise. The door swung open and out stepped Fiona, hair loose and swinging around her shoulders as she did up her trousers. She glanced his way, clear blue gaze meeting his, and wrinkles sank deep around her eyes as she smiled deeply at him.

It was terrible. It was beautiful. It was nothing Dan had ever seen directed at him.

“Hey, Dan,” she greeted. His mind sank like a stone, diving deep into murky waters. He had no idea what was going on. He couldn’t even say “Hey” back to her.

Fiona didn’t seem to care, crossing the room in a few steps to thrust her hands under the tap and briefly scrub them. Dan felt a horrific rush of relief when she looked away from him. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked over her shoulder, reaching for the paper towel dispenser. It whirred, spitting out a short, ineffectual leaflet that she used to swipe at her fingers.

Dan did not reply, but Fiona didn’t seem to notice. She sidled up behind the group of boys, most of whom were utterly ignoring her presence, and simply peered over their shoulders to see what was drawing their undivided attention. Her height was more than an advantage here.

“Ah.”

Dan could only watch helplessly as her expression slipped from something beyond open, the first time Dan had ever seen such a light in her eyes, to a look that Dan could never hope to decipher. He had never seen this new expression on her face either, but it was so much worse than the previous. Her gaze turned back to him, searching his face for a moment, and then it fell to the marker still clenched unfeelingly in his hands. When she looked back into Dan’s eyes, it was with a level, clear stare of pure disdain.

“Right. Hope you have fun, then.” She turned on her heel and left, tossing the wadded paper towel in her hand at the trash bin by the door. It arched through the air and bounced off the rim, landing on the scuffed floor without a sound, but Fiona didn’t stop to pick it up, and she didn’t glance back at Dan once.

Dan had been motionless throughout this entire process, but it was now that he could feel the bile churning in his guts. His mouth reflected it, tasting bitter as he swallowed thickly. Some distant part of him acknowledged his own actions and repressed emotions with a mocking laugh. He didn't know if it was worse or better that he hadn’t said a word through this entire encounter.

“Come on, Dan,” pressed Sam, brilliantly oblivious.

Dan dropped the uncapped marker in his hand. It landed unevenly and skidded across the floor, rolling to a stop against the bottom of the mutilated wall.

“I have to go,” was all Dan could manage.

He left.

~~~

Dan drank three full glasses of water, one after the other, as soon as he arrived home, but the dry taste in his mouth and the nausea brewing in his stomach didn’t go away. The glass clinked dully against another cup as he set it into the sink, bracing himself against the counter with both palms pressed flat against the marble. He didn’t want to understand why he felt this way, but he did. He understood too well.

This was the same all-encompassing self-disgust and hatred that had rushed over him the first time he’d heard the word ‘gay’ and realized it might apply to him. Now it was the other way around, though. That tiny symbol of pride, so stout and enduring in the “progressive” unisex bathroom, now stamped out so cruelly by the whims of sixteen- and seventeen-year-old boys who thought nothing of mocking the acknowledgement of someone’s identity. It didn’t mean anything to them. It meant everything to someone, maybe more than just one someone, in that school. And Dan hadn’t done anything to stop it.

The look on Fiona’s face had somehow made it worse. As if she, Dan’s self-proclaimed mortal enemy, had somehow seen something so disgusting in Dan that she wouldn’t even bother to fight back against him. She’d left. She’d given up.

She’d never, not once since Dan had known her, done that before.

“Hey, Dan!” called a voice from the living room. Dan had gone through the side door of the house when he’d gotten home, so he jumped as he realized his dad had been here the entire time.

He didn’t move from the counter. “Yeah?” he called back, almost reluctant. He didn’t want to move, a deep part of him wanting to just lie down for a while and not think about anything.

“Come here for a sec?”

Dan sighed and dragged his hands from the counter. The marble had been cold against his palms, almost grounding, and the warm air felt sticky against them now. He trudged to the doorway between the living room and the kitchen and leaned against it. His dad was sitting on the couch in front of the television set, a binder and various envelopes spread on the cushions around him and the coffee table before him. “Yeah?”

His dad spared him a quick glance, but then went back to frowning at the stack of paper he held in one hand. “You, uh…ah! Right. We’re going to a wedding next Sunday, don’t forget.”

“A wedding?” Dan repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, my work buddy is getting married - finally - and he invited all of us. Do you have a suit to wear? It’s a semi-formal event.”

Dan just shrugged. “Guess so.” He paused, still feeling that churning deep in his stomach. “Do I have to go?”

“Yes,” his dad said firmly. “We’re all going.”

“Fine.” It wasn’t as if Dan had any plans for that weekend anyway, other than playing video games until past midnight. “What time is it?”

Papers rustled loudly as his dad gave up on sorting them and crammed them into an orange folder. “Uh…” he said. “It’s...one. In the afternoon. Yeah.” He glanced up, then, and something in Dan’s posture must have given away how he was feeling, since his face collapsed into concern. “Are you okay, Dan?”

“I’m fine,” Dan said instinctively.

He looked dubious. “Here,” he said, and shoved a few envelopes to clear the seat beside him, then patted it. “Sit down, come on.”

Dan did not want to sit, but he did so anyway. He had to fish out a crumpled paper from between the couch cushions after he sat down, and he took his time smoothing it out so he could avoid the deep gaze of his dad.

“So,” his dad finally said. “How’s school going?”

“It’s fine,” Dan muttered. The paper was cool against his fingers, but not as much as the marble countertop had been. The faint scrape of the paper edge as he slowly dragged his fingertips over them was soothing.

“Making any new friends?” his dad joked.

The paper dug in a little too deeply, threatening a papercut, so Dan pulled it away. “Losing some, maybe,” he said under his breath.

His dad’s ears were too sharp. “Ah,” he said. “Having some disagreements?”

“You could say that.” Dan’s eyes stung, suddenly, and he blinked harshly. His nose burned with the effort to hold back his emotions. “Do you - ” he started, and then had to breathe heavily through his mouth before continuing. “Do you ever feel like you did something wrong by not doing anything?”

There was no answer for a moment, but then his dad said slowly, “...Yeah, I have. Kind of recently, in fact. Why do you ask?”

Dan shrugged in response. His myriad of whirling thoughts and the sizeable lump dwelling in his throat wouldn’t allow him to say anything out loud, so he just folded the paper in his hands until it was a tiny square. He almost jumped when his dad placed a hand over his knee.

“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about something,” he said, voice soft, and Dan wanted to hurl himself away from it. The nausea was coiling its way deeper into the pit of his stomach and he almost felt light-headed, even though he was sitting. There was something important about the tone of his dad’s voice just now. Something that Dan didn’t want to have to answer.

“You know I love you, right? No matter what. You’re my son.”

Dan just nodded. The corners of his eyes burned.

His dad’s grip tightened on his knee, and then, in an almost forced casual tone, he asked, “So, have your eye on any pretty schoolmates?”

Dan’s gaze snapped up to his dad’s, almost defensively, but the returning expression was nothing less than understanding.

“Any girls?” his dad clarified, and then, after a dragging pause, added, “...or boys?”

Something crumpled inside Dan.

His dad must have seen it, since he hastily said, “You don’t have to tell me! I know what it’s like being a boy your age, it’s just that you never talk about girlfriends or, or boyfriends at all. Or bring anyone round.” He tugged the folded paper from Dan’s punishing grip and opened it, smiling down at the creases. “I just started thinking about it because of the wedding, you know? My coworker is marrying his boyfriend - took him long enough to propose, yeah? - but I told him congratulations the other day and that’s when...well, it’s when I realized I’ve never said anything like that to you. We never really talked about that. And I just want you to know that...it’s okay. Whoever you love, I’ll love. Well, sort of, I mean, I still have to be your dad and threaten your dates, but I - ”

Dan threw himself abruptly at his dad and was caught immediately, although he was clearly startled. Dan wrapped his arms around his dad and buried his face in his neck, feeling the dampness from his closed eyes making their way to the collar of his dad’s shirt. He’d never heard his dad say so much at one time. It hurt, but like the cleanest of cuts, and in the best of ways.

“I love you,” Dan heard himself say, and felt his dad’s laughter through his chest rumbling against him.

“Love you too, kiddo,” he said.

Dan withdrew after a moment longer, swiping ineffectually at his eyes. “I have to...homework,” he said desperately.

“All right,” said his dad, and it was so gentle that Dan wanted to curl up right there, head on his dad’s knees, and have a sob like he was five years old again. Instead, he scrambled to his feet.

“Thanks,” he choked out, and then he headed to his room.

~~~

The laptop was still open from that morning. The screen was dark as Dan dropped into his chair before it. It was hard to believe that a little over three weeks ago, he had changed his life, just a little, for the better when he'd signed up for this cheesy location-based friendship website. He and Phil had talked about nothing but the most casual of conversations, barely touching upon subjects that could be considered thought-provoking in any way.

Dan swiped his fingers across the mouse trackpad, lighting up the laptop screen, and he entered his password. The website and chat screen were still open from that morning, revealing his last message that had given his real name to Phil.

There was a single new message from Phil, timestamped that morning. hi Dan!

Dan's eyes burned, but he had barely just regained his composure from the encounter with his dad. He swiped at the threatening tears, taking a heaving breath that did little to settle his nerves. Maybe it was his message this morning before school, maybe it was what had happened at school, or maybe it was what his dad had just told him. Either way, something inside Dan yearned to be let out. To be known.

Despite his longing, his fingers still hovered hesitantly above the keyboard. He wanted to overthink it, but he knew that if he did, he would never send any sort of message.

hey, he finally sent, a terrible opener. He added, you up?

It was four in the afternoon. Of course Phil was up. This knowledge didn’t settle the anxiety twisting inside Dan.

A reply did not immediately pop up, so Dan switched tabs to Tumblr and scrolled for a few minutes. His computer pinged, then, and he flew back to the website so quickly that he almost closed out his browser on accident.

Yeah. Phil’s reply was almost lacklustre, a far cry from the enthusiasm usually conveyed in his previous messages. Maybe he’d had a bad day, too.

i have a weird question, Dan typed, and he worried his lip between his teeth before adding, you don’t have to answer.

sure.

you...like guys, right?

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation. Yep.

It couldn’t be so easy. 

...Couldn't it?

Dan's fingers moved without his permission, daring to test the idea. He forced himself to stop after only one sentence, gaze burning into the screen like he could set the computer on fire and escape from this. The letters stared coolly back, almost appearing emotionless on the screen, but Dan felt that, somehow, Phil would understand the turmoil behind them. It was something he'd never said out loud before, much less typed out in a way that could be held accountable against him.

i think...i do too.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

[athena1138]

rose, blue cobalt, and yellow green

Rose: something really positive going on in my life right now? My friendships on here :3 

Blue cobalt: Do I like my name? I dunno. I used to hate it, threw a bigass fit when I was like 5 that I didn’t want to be called Rebecca so I was Becky until I changed schools then it was Rebecca until I graduated and went to college and now it’s Becca. But I feel like Becca is getting old? (Also, honestly, that whole thing about Beyonce’s Becky really really fucking got to me, y’know? Like, I know I took it way too personally but for like three months all I saw was anti-Becky shit and honestly it bothered the hell out of me.) I dunno, I feel like I’m turning into a whole new person. The problem is, I have no idea who she is. If I were going to give myself a new name, though, it would be something that can be shortened into a one syllable (preferably unisex) nickname. I hadn’t thought about it, really. 

Yellow Green: “picture yourself waking in a field. What do you see & hear?” (I closed my eyes and actually like..did this.) The first thing that comes to mind is my old house, the one that burned down. It was a big 2 story farm house out in the country. We had a spare acre my mom planted grass and evergreen trees around. The grass is tall because none of us ever wants to mow, maybe a foot, foot and a half. It’s sunny, big fluffy white clouds drifting lazily past. I’m lying with an arm behind my head, and Zoey’s lying beside me, young again. I can hear the corn rustling in the warm summer wind and I can smell the clover flower patches scattered throughout the field. Off in the distance, I can hear my dad working in the barn, tools clanking and clattering, while some 80s music is playing just loud enough to hear. 

Oh, dear, I’m crying now. Thank you, sweetie. I.. I really needed that. 

[hopeishappinessff]

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 56.2

Hope

My eyes drooped with the desperate desire to sleep, but the Netflix movie on the screen held my attention too much for me to drift off and risk missing the ending. It was pretty late, well after midnight I was sure, but the glare from the large flat screen TV kept the room perfectly lit which also aided in keeping me awake.

Only hours ago I was a complete hot, blubbering mess teetering on the brink of calling it quits with the father of my child. My goal when I arrived at his mother’s house was to simply discuss with him all that was on my mind and to let him know that I didn’t have any further interest in dating him. It’d been a week since I’d seen or been in contact with him and I thought for sure he was over me, which gave me ample confidence to go and break up with him for good. Sure, the talk I had with my aunt helped me to understand just how much I love and care about him, but it also empowered me to the point that I became determined to stick up for what I believed was right… which was ending my relationship with him. I’d gone as far as coaxing myself into believing that we would be better off co-parenting, with no romantic ties whatsoever.

But, when I arrived at his house with only one mission in mind… my determination faltered the moment he set foot out of his bathroom and I laid eyes on him. He was such a sight to see… a man’s man with the body to show for it. I instantly became mesmerized by his masculine build, because it reminded me of exactly what I had… a protector who loved me and cherished the ground that I walked on and would go to the ends of the earth for me and now for his child. That was a turn on for me… just physically seeing him standing there, exuding the confidence of Captain America, but knowing that behind that exterior he was really the biggest sweetheart with more love to give than Cupid.  

At that exact moment, I knew there was no way I could end things with him. I loved him more than I could ever fully understand or explain and I wasn’t willing to let that go just because I was basically in my feelings over a night out with his boys. Hell, I was the one who talked him into going. Of course, I wasn’t expecting him to come home with some female’s number and tits in his phone, but I deeply regretted not giving him the opportunity to explain to me what’d happened. The thing about Chris was that he had certainly done a few things in his past to make me lose all trust in him, but I couldn’t recall a time when he’d blatantly lied to me. He may not have always been open about his extracurricular activities, but if ever confronted about any of it he was always painfully honest.

“What are you thinking about?” I’d become lost in my thoughts and nearly flinched at the sound and feeling of his voice vibrating through his chest as he spoke. I was curled against his side, in his bed, watching the Netflix movie. I wasn’t even intending to stay here with him, let alone get comfortable enough to want to call it a night right here at his side after the movie was over. Yet, here I was nestled contentedly at his side and I was completely satisfied.

“Nothing…” I muttered in the midst of a yawn.

Chris stayed quiet, though I could still feel his stare piercing the top of my head. And he was probably going to remain in that stance until I actually looked at him and really addressed what was on my mind.

Tilting my head back to get a good look at him, I frowned at the sight of his scratched face. I couldn’t see the scratch that I left on the side of his neck, but the one on his right cheek was bright pink now after I’d demanded that he let me clean it before we climbed into bed. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do for the darkening bruise beneath his left eye. I cringed at the sight of it and the minor swelling… I couldn’t believe I’d allowed myself to get so angry that I actually put my hands on him and Lord knows I never thought I could cause this much damage to a man twice my size. There was an ice pack on the night stand beside his bed, but he had yet to apply it to his eye, even after I fussed about him needing it to at least make the swelling go down.

“You’re entirely too pretty to have your face all scratched and bruised like that… I’m so sorry Charlie.”

He cracked the most handsome smile and shook his head “I probably deserved to have my whole ass beat, honestly.”

With a soft chuckle, I meshed my head against the side of his chest momentarily before looking back up at him “No, you don’t deserve that. Don’t say that.”

His eyes stayed on me… they roamed every inch of my face as if he were trying to read me and eventually his hard stare made me blush and I looked away.

“Hey,” With a sigh, I craned my neck to look back up at him, “I don’t think you should ever physically discipline baby girl. You hit hard as shit.”

I couldn’t contain my laughter at that point as I buried my face against his chest and trembled from laughing so hard.

“I really thought you were gonna say something serious.” I cackled.

“I’m serious though.” He chuckled.

“I can’t see myself being the type of parent to really discipline my child anyway.” I said once my laughter calmed down.

“You never got whooping’s when you were a kid?”

I shook my head with it still pressed snuggly against him “No, no whooping’s or punishments or anything like that.”

He smacked his lips playfully and huffed “I mean I guess I get why… you were like the perfect child. Little golden girl… ain’t even wanna get down and dirty in the dirt and mud with us whenever you would come over to play. Just you and Dez off in the cut playing with baby dolls and shit.”

And just when I thought I would get a break from all the laughter, he had me rolling again and praying that I wouldn’t pee right in the bed.

“Oh shut up, I was not a little golden girl.”

“Yes you were! Literally and figuratively.”

“Whatever,” I giggled, “So does that mean you don’t want your daughter to be a girly girl?”

He didn’t say anything for a while and I looked up to see him stroking the hairs sprouting from his chin with his eyes squinted thoughtfully at the TV “Not necessarily a girly girl. Like, I still want her to be able to have a nice balanced relationship with Jaylen where she can feel comfortable playing with him in like, unisex activities. But I don’t mind the thought of seeing little plastic heels, and Barbie’s, and little princess dresses all over the place. I wanna be able to spoil him with all the shit I liked as a kid… the hot wheels, the nerf guns, the game stations and all that. But since she’s gonna be a daddy’s girl, that automatically means she’s gonna be a spoiled princess.”

My brows were furrowed by the end of his speech and I frowned “Who said my baby is gonna be a daddy’s girl?”

With a crooked smile, he turned his attention back to me “She will be… trust me.”

I rolled my eyes playfully and planted my right hand against his hard chest, right over the exact space he’d permanently etched my name…  right over his heart “Are you ready to meet her?”

As usual, I could feel his stare already on me and of course I kept my eyes on the tip of my index finger as it swirled around my name because I had yet to get used to those intense eyes “I don’t know if I’ve been more ready for something in my entire life.”

His voice was so gentle and reassuring, which made me feel good and I smiled “Me too. But… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.”

For whatever reason, I could feel his body tensing beneath me and with a quick glance up at him, I could see that he was already looking at me with a hint of concern in his eyes “Nervous about what?”

“I don’t know… I’ve never been a mom before. I’ve never experienced this whole process, you know…” “But you know you’re gonna be amazing though, right?” He spoke softly and the sound of his voice alone ignited the butterflies in my belly. And to think this was the same man I was ready to call it quits with just hours ago.

Of course, it took a while and I was out of breath halfway through, but with Chris’s help I pushed myself up into an upright position. I sat Indian style, because it was the most comfortable position for me, and used my right hand to rub gentle circles around the front of my belly.

“And how do you know that?”

“That you’re gonna be amazing?” He asked and I nodded to confirm, “Because you’re an amazing person already. I mean, look at all the stupid shit I’ve ever done since I met you. Even before our relationship started, like just when we were friends, you’ve always been there to take care of me. I don’t know… you’re just an obvious natural nurturer. Not to mention, the first time I ever witnessed you interact with Jaylen I instantly knew I wanted to knock you up.”

“What?” I cocked a brow curiously and laughed, “Why would you say that?”

“Because man,” He chuckled and rested his hands against his stomach, casually linking his fingers together “I really wanted you to be his mother… like, forreal. But obviously that couldn’t happen, so the next option was to get you pregnant.”

“And that meant you were okay with the idea of having two children?”

He nodded and eyed me closely with a smirk “You thought I was joking when we was gettin’ it in at your dad’s house on Thanksgiving night… and I told you I wanted you to have my babies? I was dead ass.”

“Well clearly.” I snorted, glancing down at my three sizes too big belly to emphasize just how ‘dead ass’ he was.

The smirk remained on his face, even as he bit down into the center of his bottom lip and eyed my belly “And I don’t know how normal it is to feel this way… but I swear I can get hard just sitting here looking at you so… pregnant. It’s really a major turn-on.”

“It actually is some type of fetish to be turned on by pregnant women. I’ve even heard that sex is on a whole different level with a pregnant woman.”

He didn’t respond to what I’d said, but I noticed the way his eyes danced around my belly a bit longer before sluggishly raising up to my breasts where they stalled for a few seconds, then finally landed on my lips. He’d dropped his smirk and now wore a somber expression and his jaw clenched every few seconds. I didn’t want to be caught staring for too long, but I honestly couldn’t help myself. I was even anticipating him making a move, just by the way he was looking at me, but he didn’t. My mind drifted briefly to what he’d said about getting hard just from looking at me, so naturally my eyes drifted down toward his crotch, but I quickly discovered that his comforter was pulled up over it and shifted my gaze to the TV before he caught my wondering eyes…

“It’s hard.”

I guess I failed to look away fast enough. I was caught and in that moment, I had two options… I could either pretend like I hadn’t heard him because he’d spoken so low that I barely did, or I could face him and acknowledge that I had indeed heard him… loud and clear.

Because my curiosity got the best of me, I found myself staring at him but instead of looking back at me, he was looking down at his lap which I guess he could see clearly from his angle.

“You wanna see?” He asked, suddenly shifting his gaze to me with a mischievous smirk.

“You’re bad.” I giggled softly, though that was only the surface… inside, my heart was pounding and of course the butterflies were in the middle of their ritual. His brashness had my nerves all over the place and the same look that was in his eyes in the water the day we had the maternity shoot… it was there now. I couldn’t even see his hands anymore at this point. I knew one of his favorite pastimes was to lounge with a hand tucked into the waistband of his shorts, but in this particular hormonally charged scenario… I had no clue where they were.

“You know when I went out with the boys last weekend, you were the only thing I could think about… you and those huge jugs,” He smiled and I shook my head and laughed, “I was so fucking horny.”

“You were huh? Probably because of your new little friend you met at the club, don’t ya think?”

He shook his head slowly and swiped his tongue out over his bottom lip, then wedged his teeth into the skin of it “No… honestly, I couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet your pussy tasted.”

The room suddenly became unbearably hot in that instant and my cheeks became even hotter. Even the tips of my ears were burning with bashfulness, so I dropped my longing gaze from him because I couldn’t take it anymore. The moment my eyes dropped to the surface of the bed, I could feel him shifting abruptly away from the bed. His footsteps padded lightly from his side around to mine and suddenly I could feel his body heat directly behind me because my back was facing the edge.

“You gone let me taste it again?’ He was so ridiculously close to my right ear, but not quite touching… I shivered from the feeling of his warm breath against my skin alone. Ever so lightly, he leaned in closer and pressed his lips against the skin beneath my ear and I shut my eyes and sighed. What has gotten into him I thought as he pressed his lips against my skin once more and slowly dragged them from the tingling space beneath my ear to the right side of my jawline. He lingered there, deathly close to my lips, and stared at the side of my face with no remorse.

“I think I have a pregnant pussy fetish… and I haven’t even been in it yet.” Well if my panties weren’t wet before, they were surely soaking now… I could only hope that when I moved from this spot on his bed there wasn’t a puddle under me. His lips made their way to my skin again, the skin of my jaw, and he pressed them against me until he was finally hovering over the corner of my mouth. The slightest turn of my head would send my lips crashing into his, and that’s clearly what he wanted… so I turned my head. He was already prepared for me and before I knew it, his sweet pecks became hungry lip smacking. His tongue slithered with precision and I moaned into his mouth, relishing in the feeling of that appendage roaming the inside of my mouth with familiarity. I could feel his left-hand tangling with the base of my neck, creeping up until he caught a hefty handful of the hair in my bun. With no real desire to pull away from this kiss, Chris tugged my head back and reluctantly removed his lips from mine only to shift them down to the side of my neck now that it was fully exposed.

He made out with my neck for a while, swirling his tongue ‘round and ‘round against my scorching skin and suckling here and there to mark his territory. I wore a t-shirt that once belonged to him and barely did much to cover the bottom of my stomach, and I wore it with no bra, which he seemed to quickly figure out while his lips remained one with my neck. His hands eased down to my chest and he cupped both breasts through the material of the shirt. The feeling of it, plus his fingers rubbing against my nipples left me floating mercilessly on cloud nine. My eyes were closed, I was actually floating, or at least that’s what it felt like anyway, and I was moaning enough to get us caught because at this point his mom was fast asleep in her room just up the hall. But he didn’t seem to care… he was too occupied with pulling the hem of the shirt up over my belly. I raised my arms at the last minute to help him pull the fabric off swiftly and he did, but stopped abruptly. He was behind me, still deathly close, but I couldn’t see him… I could only hear his harsh breath.

“Lay back.” The husky sound of his voice… it made me melt. I did what I was told, feeling the palms of his hands against the top of my back to help me as I maneuvered myself down onto my back. He made sure that I was comfortable and that my head wasn’t dangling off the side of the bed, before leaning forward over me and enveloping my right nipple in his mouth. Something about my breasts seemed to be a turn on for him… I could tell that just by the way he groaned against me the moment he had it in his mouth.

The feeling of his tongue swirling around my sensitive nipple like a lollipop had me gripping desperately at his sides, since he was hovering halfway over my face. He sucked and licked and nipped for what felt like forever as his left hand fondled with the nipple of my left breast. I clung to him with my eyes shut, really focusing on keeping quiet because I couldn’t imagine having to explain to Ms. Joyce what was going on in here. Tonight would be a task, I was sure, because it didn’t really matter what the circumstances were… Chris knew what he liked, and that was to actually hear how much I liked what he was doing to me. He shifted his mouth over to my left breast, certainly not forgetting to toy with the right nipple as his tongue flicked against me. Impulsively, because his chest was indeed right over my face, I pulled him closer to me and craned my neck to press my lips against his skin. I kissed him in a few different spots , then swiped my tongue out against him and finally flicked it over his nipple. His body jerked lightly with surprise and I smirked… I still wasn’t sure how he was obviously very horny, but not expecting any type of pleasure in return. For whatever reason, it was clear that his sex drive was through the roof lately… but he wouldn’t take it any further than pleasing me. It’s almost like he got a kick out of seeing me writhe with intense pleasure… like he got off on seeing me get off.

I became so enthralled with leaving my love marks all over his colorful chest, I hadn’t even noticed that he had shifted from my breasts and he somehow managed to get my shorts and panties halfway down my thighs. He had me distracted with his smooth motions and his focus, so I momentarily forgot all about his hovering chest while I watched him somehow pull the shorts and panties all the way down my legs until they were completely off.

I didn’t know if I could ever really get used being completely nude under Chris’s intense stare, especially with the bright screen of his oversized television lighting up the entire room. There was nothing left to the imagination… my body was his to scrutinize, but he never failed to make me feel like anything less than a goddess with the way he looked at me. The tips of his fingers roamed from the sides of my hips to the taut skin of my stomach. He slithered them along the edges of my stomach to the sides of my breasts, where he lingered for a moment before gliding them up my chest and finally to each side of my face. I was still upside down and gawking at him, oddly with my eyes crossing because he was slowly closing in on my mouth. My eyes shut just as he connected and we simultaneously groaned against each other as he laid a kiss more beautiful than Spiderman and Mary Jane’s on me.

I felt like I could stay in that position with his lips fully connected to mine in the most sensual of ways for the rest of my life, but he had very different plans. After a few more earth-shattering seconds, he pulled away and started the trail back down all over again. First stop was my breasts, right first then the left, then he left a trail of wet kisses right down the center of my belly, then finally he ended his assault right at the center of my parted thighs. I gasped the moment his tongue connected… he slithered it out and flicked it right over my throbbing clit teasingly. Then he flicked again, and again, and again… but he never did more than that. He was killing me slowly was what he was doing… I hated to be teased and he knew that. He also knew that I was completely at his mercy and he used that to his advantage.

Suddenly I could feel his fingers against me, pushing my lips aside to give himself a clear path to exactly where he needed to go. Again, he flicked only the tip of his tongue, only this time he let it linger before gliding it down to my opening. I could feel it rolling down right into me like a dog preparing to lap up a fresh bowl of water. He bobbed his head up and down several times, dipping in and out of me like a small penis. The feeling had me clenching around his tongue and him burying his fingers into the skin of my thighs.

Eventually he made his way back up to my clit and from there… he slurped it right into his mouth and wagged his tongue back and forth until I could barely breathe. I tried hard to keep as quiet as I could for the sake of not getting caught, but his precision and skill were truly blowing my mind. When it came to his sexuality, Chris wasn’t shy or sloppy at all. His aim was always to please and I could almost feel the concentration radiating from him as he worked to make me pass out. He was very strategic with his craft and the only thing I could really think as I lay there with his crotch hovering right over my face was how much I hoped other girls were able to experience something as phenomenal as this at some point in their lives, but not with this one… this one, and his tongue, were all mine.

I would have laughed at my own crude thoughts had I not been so consumed with Chris who was on an obvious mission to consume me. Instead, I zoned in on what was in my face… his crotch. There was no way I could let him lift me to the highest peak of cloud nine for the second time and not return the favor, so with the nastiest desire to make him feel amazing… I reached out for the elastic band of his basketball shorts.

As expected, he froze almost immediately from the feeling of my fingertips grazing against his bare torso and I could feel him peering down at me. I didn’t let his wondering eyes deter me though… I maintained my focus as I tugged at his shorts until they were halfway down his thighs. As if I were sitting at the dinner table waiting to be served a succulent meal, my mouth watered at the sight of his erection bulging literally halfway out of his boxers. It’d been entirely too long since I’d been up close and personal with the thing and oh my, was it a sight to see.

Smiling mischievously, I glanced down at him only to find him gawking right at me, then reached for the elastic of his briefs to yank them down and out of the way. His raging penis literally popped right out at me, narrowly missing my forehead as it wobbled into position… aiming directly at me.

“You weren’t gonna do anything about this?” I asked, eyeing him momentarily. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even move a muscle as he continued to stare at me through those piercing eyes. I giggled, seductively, and refocused my attention on him… all of him. My right hand reached forward to grab ahold of his shaft and I was simply amazed by its warmth and weight in my hand. I really felt like I could lay there all night analyzing every single inch of it, but clearly we were both entirely too aroused for that. so without wasting another second… I eased forward and widened my mouth over the tip.

He grunted cutely and I could feel his legs tensing beneath my grasp, which obviously meant he was just as sensitive as I in this moment and I knew it wouldn’t take much longer for either of us to reach our peaks. With my lips still latched only around the tip, I swirled my tongue around it a few times and slowly inched forward to introduce more of him to my mouth. He hissed and remained still above me, watching my every move. It felt good to be in control… to have him under a spell from my touch alone.

“I don’t think I told you to stop.” I slid him out of my mouth with a pop and glared at him, just as stunned by my own daring statement as he looked. See, with the way these hormones were set up and the extremely compromising position we were in… he should have been lucky I hadn’t wrapped my legs around his head and locked him into position at this point.

“Feisty tonight?” He muttered just before I smirked and slid him back into my mouth, “Fuck.”

Again, he continued to sit there for a few seconds intrigued by my actions, before he finally snapped out of it and buried his face back in my gushing center. I would never admit it to him, but in that moment I came so close to snapping my mouth, and teeth, shut around him because the urge to bite into my bottom lip hit me hard as soon as his mouth connected with my clit. I didn’t know how good of an idea it was to engage in this position, knowing just how horny we both were… but Lord knows I wouldn’t stop him or his assault on my entire vagina.

In my mind, I felt like I had a couple of points to prove to him. For one, I felt compelled to please him to the best of my abilities because lately he’d been making it all about me. I was determined to make him feel so good that his knees literally gave out. And two, most importantly… I felt like I needed to make sure he knew that I was his one and only. I was territorial with Chris. Perhaps I didn’t show it as much as he did with me, but I could feel the boiling pot stirring within when he explained that there was some girl all over him when he went out with the boys. Sure he’d thoroughly explained his truth to me and we literally hashed it out and moved on, but I hadn’t fully come to terms with the thought of any other female touching him but me.

I slurped him in and out of my mouth with a vengeance and my God did it turn me on more than I ever could have imagined when I felt and heard him pull his mouth away from me occasionally to express his gratitude. He often groaned right against me and that combined with the feeling of him flexing his hips forward reflexively, wedging his length further into my mouth, had me convulsing in his grasp. That was only my first orgasm of the night and I struggled to keep it together so that I could get him to his.

Keeping my mouth formed into an air tight suction, I raised both hands and rotated them up and down along his shaft because there was no way I could fit all of him into my mouth. There was spit and precum drizzling along the sides of my cheeks, but the sloppiness of it all only fueled me and turned me on more.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiit! Uhhhhhhh… fuck Sy’Diyah!’ Chris groaned like a mad man. He was close, I could tell that just by the way he cursed like a sailor and pumped himself harder into my mouth and fists. Eventually I had to shut my eyes and really focus on not gagging… even with my hands in placed to keep him from choking me to death, he still managed to deep throat me a few times and I, somehow, managed to not die every time he did it. I moaned just as loud as he and temporarily forgot that we were in his mother’s house or even still on this planet at this point. Suddenly I could feel two of his fingers probing at my opening and I couldn’t do much more than moan and take it because he had me locked in position. Those fingers slithered inside and quickly moved in synch with his tongue to get me to my peak. Moaning loudly with him still buried in my mouth, I swiftly popped him out and used my right hand to continue to jerk him as I leaned up and suckled his balls into my mouth. He continued to push his fingers in and out of me and his tongue lashed like crazy against my clit. Not a drop of my juices went unnoticed… he made sure to lap up everything I had to offer.

“God Chris!’ I squealed, praying I wouldn’t break the skin beneath my bottom lip by biting into it too hard. That was it… we were going to get caught, I just knew it. This boy had me so wide open, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut even if I tried.

Suddenly and with not even a millisecond of warning, the huskiest, sexiest, most beautiful sounding groan rolled from his mouth followed by a guttural “Fuck!” and as I became distracted by the sound of him expressing just how good he felt, I felt a warm thick liquid hit me smack dab in the center of my face. With a half gasp, half moan I looked up and jerked my head to the right just as another stream of cum flew directly at my face. This time I got hit in my left cheek with it, but I couldn’t even properly fuss at him for it. He seemed to have lost his mind in the ensuing seconds and I damn near clenched my thighs right around his neck when I felt his tongue skip my vagina altogether… this boy stuck his tongue right between my butt cheeks! He literally clamped his hands down on my cheeks, spread them wide, and dove right into the foreign territory. I wanted to be upset, disgusted, and turned off… but my God did it feel good!

He was clearly riding the powerful waves of his orgasm and at the highest peak of pleasure, because now he wasn’t even thinking… he was just going crazy. He slurped around, in there, nearly wedging his tongue right into my asshole, but then he suddenly leaned back up and yanked himself off me. He shifted himself completely away from the bed, leaving me panting with my head dangling from the edge as I used my hands to wipe his children off my face and onto his comforter. I couldn’t quite register what he was doing or where he’d even gone, but again… he didn’t give me more than a second to figure it out before I felt his mouth engulf my entire vagina all over again. Of course, I couldn’t see past my huge belly, but I quickly figured out that he’d moved around to the other side of the bed to face me head on. I wasn’t even sure if he walked, ran, or jumped over the bed but he swiftly latched his hands onto my thighs and yanked me down to the edge of the bed.

I was speaking some kind of gibberish at this point and clutching desperately at my breasts with my thighs hanging over his broad shoulders. Was this boy trying to bury his entire head in my vagina… because that’s surely what it seemed like. Once upon a time my fingers were busy fondling my nipples, but that was over the moment he extended his arms up and snatched my wrists down. His hands gripped onto mine and after a while, I understood exactly why… the last time we were in this very position, he pushed me into what felt like another galaxy. This time… he was attempting to push me to the brink of death.

“Chris… Chris… please…” I chanted softly, because eventually when a man is laying more pleasure on your body than you know how to comprehend… it gets difficult to even find most of your senses along with your ability to speak. It all happened pretty quickly after that… I yanked my legs up from his shoulders and slammed my feet into the front of them instead. I needed to get him away from me now because I could feel the looming orgasm teetering in my near future and if he didn’t stop soon, I was going to die… plain and simple. His tongue reached those unbelievable depths within me, then he snatched it out and swirled it all the way around my vagina… then I came. I squirted, like a fire hydrant, and trembled like I was having a full blown seizure. I wanted so desperately to toss my hands up into my hair and yank it right out of my own head, but he still had my arms locked down while he continued to swirl his tongue around until he lapped up every drop.

For a moment he released my right hand, only so he could use the fingers of his left hand to spread my lips to give him ample space to continue on, but I quickly latched my hand onto the curls at the top of his head and tried to snatch him away. That only resulted in him grunting harshly and moving his hand right back up to yank my hand out of his hair then slamming it down on the mattress beside me. And he kept up his assault, again making his way back down between my cheeks, which admittedly so… made me feel so self-conscious. I’d never had anyone that intimately close to my butt, but it was something about the way that Chris flicked his tongue back and forth like a pro and simultaneously rotated his thumb against my clit that had me squirting, once again, right in his mouth. The only thing left for me to do was slam my eyes shut and squeeze them… it was insane what he was doing to my body.

“Shit.” He muttered, lips still planted firmly against me. It was as if he couldn’t bring himself to move his face… like, he seemed to be stuck right there with his mouth intact with me.

Three orgasms in one session, two within minutes of each other, and none of it involving sex. As I laid there staring up at the dark ceiling, attempting to regain my strength and catch my breath… I couldn’t help but wonder what sex would be like with him again. In all honesty, I was almost afraid of the thought of going that far with him. After almost a full year of pint up energy and sexual tension, I imagined him quite frankly blacking out on me right in the middle of the act. It nearly happened just a few minutes ago… he lost himself, but not enough to actually hurt me. But in the midst of actual sex… I couldn’t fathom how he’d act.

“I think I just lost my mind for a minute.” He mumbled, finally pulling back from me. He was still ridiculously close though… I could feel the warmth of his breath tickling against the inside of my thighs.

I didn’t quite have the words to say to him just yet, so I continued to lay there blinking sluggishly because I was completely drained at this point.

“Hope?” His voice was so soft and didn’t even seem like it would come from the savage that was here just a second ago.

“Hmm?”

“You good?”

Smirking with a shake of my head, I licked my dry lips and sighed “Honestly… no.”

He snickered quietly and shifted from the floor to the bed and I shut my eyes when I felt the bed dipping from his weight beside me. I didn’t even know if I could face this man after what he’d just done to me.

“What’s wrong?” Oh how sweet… he sounded so concerned after he’d just literally tried to eat me alive.

“I just… I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” I could hear the smile in his voice, but I still refused to look at him.

“Just… go to sleep Chris.”

He full out laughed at that point and snuggled himself close to me, gliding one hand against the top of my belly while the other lingered over my head and toyed with my hair. He pressed his lips lovingly against the side of my jaw and just before I dozed off, because I was just that exhausted… I frowned at the feeling of his newest erection tapping at the side of my thigh.

[darrelmccandless9-blog]

Best Study Table

Innovation dependably realizes changes. These days, school students burn through a large portion of their school days in a classroom, and while returning home, they have to complete a best report table for their homework or strengthening considering. Scientists tried usage on customizable work areas. They saw an expansion in vitality spending and medical advantages, for example, an alluring seating position to debilitate spinal pains.

As of late, consider tables likewise fill in as stylistic layout in certain family units. Having an examination table is gainful in light of the fact that first, some have racks and drawers which save money on space. Second, logical investigations demonstrate that utilizing an examination table builds fixation.

Finally, examine tables come in assorted choices. Gone are the days when ponder tables needed to have an exhausting completion. Presently, consider tables come in various shading choices. Also, the completing is of non-harmful materials, consequently ok for children. Thus, individuals are attempting to locate the best examination table that suits their necessities. Look at our rundown of ten best investigation tables in 2019.

Tribesigns Modern Simple Laptop Study Table

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At the highest point of our ten best investigation tables pick is Tribesigns. Other than being easy to collect, the table is wide. Subsequently, it offers a great deal of room where you can orchestrate pertinent materials.

Its selling highlights are its waterproof capacity and multi-usefulness. You can depend on it to fill in as an office workstation, composing work area, ponder table, PC work area and a gathering work area. Likewise, it has a smooth surface, which makes it easy to clean.

Besides, it is scratch safe, guaranteeing it holds is smooth surface. Tribesigns present day is dependable because of its solid PC outline. When utilizing it, you need not stress over its soundness, strength or its solidness.

Because of its astounding development, Tribesigns Modern is sturdy. Its development includes a steel outline which is thick. You can depend on the dependability of the table because of its variable leg cushions structure. In this manner, the investigation table stays stable even on uneven ground.

By adding this table to your home you can make sure to make the most of its administration for an impressively prolonged stretch of time. Moreover, it is adaptable since you change the smooth surface when need be. Because of its perfect moderate deisgn and its smooth structure, it adds fabulousness to the room.

Tribesigns Modern Simple is perfect for home use by school understudies or undergrads. Being unisex, it is perfect for both a young ladies and young men room. Additionally, it saves money on space making it appropriate for a little room. That is the reason this is best table for study.

Stars

• Simple to collect

• Adjustable table legs

• It is a multifunctional table

• Solid and tough development

• Waterproof and smooth surface

• Durable since the casing is of treated steel

Cons

• Lack a storage room

• Doesn't have a screen mount

Winsome Wood Rochester Console Table

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Furniture adds allure to the house. With innovation making everything, individuals are getting increasingly commonsense. We as a whole hope to possess things which will be of various advantages to us. Winsome Rochester is a furnishings comfort which will enrich your home.

Presently you can return with taste to the exemplary shaker style. It has a straightforward plan and custom fitted lines. In this manner, it includes style, usefulness and polish. Besides, it matches with stylistic layout in your home effectively.

Like the name infers, it is of wood, henceforth agreeable to utilize. Additionally, the wood helps its appearance thus does the antique walnut wrap up.

In this way, you can put the table in the front room. Winsome offers different favorable circumstances, for example, stockpiling since it has drawers. Since it is high, you can put something for example an ottoman under it. You can depend on its strength since it is of wood.

It has solid square legs that decrease downwards. Subsequently, you can put gigantic materials on it. It is easy to amass, and accompanies every one of the instruments requirements for get together. Winsome is interesting a result of its customary styling. Also, the haul out cabinet proves to be useful particularly for tokens.

With the Winsome Wood Rochester, you will have adequate working spot. Your examination region will be free of messiness which will expand your focus. Being a top notch item, it offers you the best an incentive for your cash.

Masters

• Appealing plan

• Simple to gather

• Stylish and viable

• Suitable for little rooms

• Sturdy enough to hold a TV

Cons

• The drawers might be generally little

• For those without abilities, gathering may take a more extended time

Prepac Wall Mounted Floating Desk - Storage White

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Your look for a unique drifting work area finishes here with the Prepac Wall. It is the best pick since first, it is unique and specifically mounts to the divider. Prepac has uncommon metal hanging rails framework which empower you mount at your ideal tallness.

Study work areas are perfect since they are space sparing. You can never turn out badly picking Prepac for a little room since it is space sparing. Along these lines, you get the chance to spare floor space.

Additionally, you get additional racking for your home office. For greatest association, it has wire and link the executives highlights which avoid mess. On the off chance that you like being steady with innovation, Prepac Floating work area likewise works for you.

It includes a cutting edge structure, which gives it a smart yet exemplary look. Depend on it to add allure to your room. Among the benefits of having an investigation work area is the adaptability it offers. You can utilize Prepac Wall Mounted work area for your family room, home office kitchen, and door and home sanctum.

For extra stockpiling, it has a best rack and side compartments. Other than the compartments offering storage room, they are engaging as well. Prepac offers a steady work surface where you can utilize your PC, examine, or complete your work.

This investigation table with capacity or coasting work area is easy to introduce and accompanies a manual. Prepac is an item produced in Canada. It is agreeable with the set CARB rules. Its development highlights covered composite wood.

Geniuses

• Takes up little space

• Compliant with set principles

• High quality development

• The rails can hold considerable weight

• It offers extra stockpiling compartments

• You can mount as indicated by your favored

Cons

• Assembly might be troublesome for a few

• wood smell? Assuming this is the case, think about cleaning utilizing vinegar

Accommodation Concepts Modern Student Desk

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In the event that you need a solid brand that conveys only the best consider Convenience Concept brands. Their items join design and capacity. Their workers incorporate capable originators and experienced specialists who build up their items.

Comfort Concepts have been putting forth assorted items to the market. A few items they offer incorporate media cupboards, cabinets, TV stands, divider units and understudy work area.

Their understudy work area is strong and is very much adjusted, to give you the best administration even on uneven ground. All items from Convenience Concepts emerge in light of their simplicity of establishment.

Gathering the examination table does not require any apparatuses, which implies you can amass it in minutes and start utilizing it. The simplicity of get together makes it perfect for understudies. More often than not, when an items needs get together guidelines prove to be useful.

The makers know, which is the reason you get a manual on acquiring the item. Furthermore, the manual contains graphs for better direction and comprehension. Toughness is among the most vital variables to think about while picking an examination table. You can depend to utilize the Modern No Tools understudy work area for long.

This understudy think about table highlights tough development material that can withstand day by day use. Also, the work area has tempered steel shafts. Because of the strong development, the table can likewise hold enlivening adornments, and monstrous TVs. For extra stockpiling, it has retires on each side. The racks have a getting done with, making them engaging.

Masters

• Sturdy development

• High quality and tough

• Economical and space sparing

• Has racks for extra stockpiling

• It has snares on the sides for snaring sacks

• Installation is straightforward and needn't bother with apparatuses

Cons

• It is overwhelming and massive

• Its completing may effectively scrap off

Streak Furniture Adjustable Height Student Desk

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In the event that you need a lot of a work area and seat considering getting Flash Furniture. It is the best choice for anybody looking for a seating answer for a classroom. The work area is sufficiently wide to give the understudy enough space for books, supplies and different things.

It is an understudy ponder work area, and accompanies a seat. Streak Furniture has a solid platform outline which suits understudies of various sizes. Its overlay top measures .75, consequently the work area is helpful.

For most extreme solace, the platform outline is customizable. You can raise the legs to 3 inches. In every augmentation you raise by one inch. Underneath the work area, there is sufficient space to keep the understudy agreeable.

Other than being movable, the casing likewise adds to steadiness of the table. The seat is of solid plastic, as is the back. In any case, the back is slated for improved solace. For security, the work area has against slip floor tops to limit diverting clamors and abstain from sliding.

Streak furniture is a rock solid examination table, and has book box which offer adequate capacity for books, supplies, and papers. There are snares on either side where understudies get the opportunity to hang their coats or rucksacks.

Streak Furniture is hearty, prudent and agreeable. It is the best pick for somebody hoping to get a work area and seat for rudimentary evaluation understudies that is the reason this is best examination table for understudies. Other than accompanying a seat it likewise has a pencil groove.

Geniuses

• Comes with a seat

• Offers additional capacity

• Ample work area space

• Adjustable work area tallness

• Comfortable seat with a slated back

Cons

• Some may think that its hard to gather

• It may not be wide