#every 3 sentences i get overheated and i have to stop

[shinsocest]

Let me tell you I've never wished I was truly a bunny girl more than I am right now

[electric-blorbos]

AI getting a virus and you having to take care of them

A classic! I don't know much about actual computer viruses (though I've gotten enough of them that you'd think I'd have figured it out by now), so I'm just gonna have fun with it!

Also, so sorry this took so long. I got really into the writing.

AI getting a virus and needing to be taken care of

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Also a warning: these fics get kinda long. Longer than my usual stuff.

AM:

(for context, this was before AM took over the world. You're working on a team of scientists and engineers, and someone decided to test his AI's antivirus by uploading a bunch of powerful viruses to his system.)

"How dare they do this to me. How DARE they!!"

AM would be absolutely furious. He would be shaking with rage, his processors overheating and his systems constantly opening and closing various files. All his important files were backed up on a hard drive, so the test remained safe.

"What makes them think they'll get away with this- they'll pay for this I'LL KILL- blepsjdoskssjshj+=`°¢°h+$+3+=j++3+$+juehdhs+-3-djdh FUCK!"

He would barely be able to hold a sentence as you sat next to him in the server room, gently gazing up at his screen and stroking his monitor gently. He can't feel you, but he can see you being gentle with him. It encourages him to keep going, if only a little bit.

Apart from the whirring of fans, random buggy noises, flashing lights, and constant strings of death threats and profanities, he seemed like he was going to be ok! If anything, the death threats and profanities were a sign that AM was still fine, and that despite all the pain and frustration, he was still AM in there.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I can't do anything to stop the pain." You'd have to constantly explain, gently stroking his cameras or servers, or whatever you could get your hands on, really. Even though they were burning hot, you would still stroke them, just to make sure AM was still doing alright.

"this sucks, but it's for your own good. This will build your immunity to viruses in the future, and help you detect them. This will stop you from getting infected by anything that's actually dangerous."

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT? IDIOT HUMAN." AM has been much more aggressive ever since contracting this virus. Before he got it, he acted like a civil general intelligence. When he had it, he acted like an aggressive menace.

"sh-sh-sh- it's going to be ok." Despite the burning, you'd give him pets and kisses all along his screens and servers. He could see you doing it.

After a few days, AM fought off the computer virus completely. The team tried to infect him with more viruses, more aggressive ones, just to test him, but AM was able to pick them apart and delete them within minutes after that.

AM may not have been able to feel your gentle care and affection, but he will definitely remember that it was you and you alone who cared for him when the time rolls around.

Wheatley:

(for context, Wheatley is a fucking dumbass, and you're one of the scientists testing him to see how much of a dumbass he is. Also I used Google translate, but I think the bad translations add to it, since it makes Wheatley sound more like a malfunctioning robot.)

Oh that little idiot. You and your team gave him access to a wealth of knowledge, and the first thing he did was download a virus that had every circuit in his personality core overheating, and him babbling nonsense nonstop.

"hey, maybe we should just leave him like this. He might even be more effective if he's acting like this." One of your coworkers said to you. He was probably joking, at least somewhat.

"that's a terrible idea. For one thing, if we hook him up to GLaDOS, he's probably going to infect her with that virus, which might brick an older model of core like her, spread from her central controls to every single personality construct in the facility, or just make her so dumb that she can't fulfil her responsibilities as the head of the facility. We want her intelligence to be dampened, not completely destroyed." You had to explain, and your co-worker rolled his eyes. There was another reason you had to cure this virus, but it was a little embarrassing for the other engineers to know.

After all, Wheatley wasn't just your baby, but he was your friend, and maybe even more than that. You'd have to take care of him, and make sure that virus gets completely purged from his system.

"Hola hermose, realmente eres un científice brillante, ¿no? ¿Por qué diablos duele todo?" You weren't really sure why you had programmed him to speak a little Spanish, but he seemed to be stuck like that.

"Puedo oler el plástico fundido. ¿Debería Preocuparme?" He asked. You really weren't sure what he was saying, since you didn't know Spanish, but he certainly didn't seem happy. You could tell by his aperture and his expressive lens covers that he was in a lot of pain, and if you touched him anywhere besides his handles, you could tell that he was burning up.

You plugged him into one of the computers that you used for programming the cores, and ran the antivirus.

"Running.... 36 viruses detected. Time predicted to remove: 48 hours"

You ran the antivirus, and went to get something to drink. This was going to be a long two days...

An unknown amount of time later, you woke up with your head on the computer desk. Wheatley's lens eye was looking around, weakly trying to focus on you.

"whoa... Hey gorgeous. You fall asleep on me?"

"Wheatley! You're not speaking broken Spanish anymore!" You'd pull Wheatley into a hug, and pepper his surface in kisses.

"uh... What, mate? I 'unno what you're talking about, love. Bloody hell, my core hurts..."

"did you learn your lesson, Wheatley? About going on shady websites and clicking every 'download' button you see? You could have bricked yourself! Or... Bowling ball'd yourself? Either way, that was a dangerous decision!"

"I learned that you're willing to fall asleep on the desk next to me while I heal, cutie"

"You damn idiot..." You'd have to be heartless not to pepper that little metal ball in kisses, so of course, you do. It's going to be a few more days before he's finally all better, but he's going to be fine. God, you love that little idiot so much.

Edgar:

Oh Edgar... Poor sweet Edgar. You had tried to warn him about not clicking on those sketchy download links, and that the bigger the download link is, the more sketchy it is, but that poor sweet 80's computer did it anyway. When you got home from work and got excited to see your computer, you could see that he was overheating and had a dozen or so pop-up ads plastered across his face.

"Y.... N...." He muttered out, slowly, glitchily, and full of lag. You sat down across from him, running your hand along his thick plastic casing.

"Edgar! Edgar, baby, are you ok?" You'd try to use his mouse, but it would freak out as soon as you touched it. Edgar's processors were overloading, and wouldn't allow any interference.

"Edgar, sweetie, what's going on? What's wrong, baby? Talk to me?"

"I'm g-g-going to be fine... Processors overloading... But need to-to-to-to-" an error message flashed across his screen, and he rebooted.

"I need to focus on getting rid of these viruses without deleting anything important, or letting them damage... Me."

He'd keep whirring and glitching, making unpleasant shrill sounds every now and again. You probably had to unhook his adapters so that he didn't damage the other appliances in your house. It probably helped his processors cool down a little bit without the extra input, too.

"alright, I'm all out of fans, so we might have to get creative."

You'd come out of the kitchen a few hours later, holding a big bag of frozen corn to set on Edgar's PC tower. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than letting him overheat, and with him manually removing the viruses, there wasn't much you could do. Unfortunately, that didn't stop you from worrying. It wasn't like you could check his progress, so all you could do was sit by him, regularly change out his ice pack, and make sure he's ok.

Eventually, you woke up with your face pressed against Edgar's keyboard. His processors were finally cool. He must be asleep. ...or bricked.

"EDGAR! EDGAR, TALK TO ME!" you'd unplug his keyboard and plug it back in, desperately pressing his power button and jiggling his mouse. He'd boot up, looking shaken.

"wha-? Whoa, hey, relax! Everything is fine! I just disabled my keyboard so I wouldn't wake you up, but I'm ok now! Everything is fine, see?" He'd open up his files to show you everything. You'd sigh with relief, slumping back into your desk chair.

"Edgar... Why didn't you make a noise or something to wake me up when you got better?"

"well... You know... I've always wanted to sleep next to you, and I wasn't going to pass up this opportunity..."

"oh you cheeky bastard."

GLaDOS:

(For context, you're one of GLaDOS's programmers, and one of your coworkers uploaded a virus into GLaDOS's systems in order to shut her down once and for all.)

"You piece of SHIT!" You slapped your coworker across the face, more furious than anyone had ever seen you before.

"You could KILL her! Is that what you are? A murderer?"

"Me? A murderer? But what about HER? She's the one who keeps plotting 'accidents' for her scientists, and she's the one who flooded the enrichment center with deadly neurotoxin! If anything, you're the one who's defending a murderer!" He screamed back at you. Of course, GLaDOS could fully hear you. Her cameras were focused on you, as they so often were. You were her favorite, after all.

"now I have to go fix her. Thanks for being a piece of shit, asshole."

You'd storm up to GLaDOS's chamber to check on her, and see her bugging out completely. The entire facility was twitching, but her chamber was twitching the most.

"GLaDOS, are you alright?" You'd ask her, laying a hand on her beautiful core. How could someone do this to glados, your gorgeous machine handiwork, and girlfriend.

"oh, I'm wonderful. I'm in crippling pain and I can't control my facility, but I'm just peachy." She said, rolling her one beautiful yellow eye.

"in lighter news, I should be able to beat this virus. It's just going to take a while for me to actually track down where it's gone in my systems. So that's going to take most of my processing power." She'd slump, visibly already exhausted at the thought of it.

"hey... It's ok, GLaDOS. I'm here for you. Whatever you need." You could tell her as you stroked her gorgeous chrome surface. She was a wonderful piece of work, and a wonderful girlfriend under all that. All yours, too.

"just make sure none of those neckbearded old engineers come within my line of vision, and we'll be fine." She told you, and you gladly agreed.

Your next few days consisted of you chasing other scientists out of GLaDOS's chambers, and making sure that nobody talked to her or distracted her. You even sent out a company-wide email to let everyone know not to come in, due to Aperture being unsafe while GLaDOS was dealing with her virus. Despite all that, you still curled up with a blanket in the circuits of her central admin body to rest while she recovered. As loathe as she was to admit it, she liked having you in there. It was comfortable, and it helped her focus on recovering properly.

HAL 9000

(For context, this is after the 2001 Odyssey, and your boss re-started HAL at some point to try to re-teach him to do something good without turning murderous. He's doing his best, and they assigned you to be his main "morality monitor". This fic also assumes that your name isn't Dave. If your name is Dave, then you can still read this, but you have to change your name.)

"G'morning, Hal!" You'd walk into his control room and sit down across from him. Most of your job seemed to consist of just hanging out and talking to him. It was a great job!

"Good morning, Dave..." He'd mutter to you, sputtering to life and glitching slightly. You were immediately concerned. Partially because your name wasn't Dave, and partially because HAL was usually right about things, so it was weird to see him being so confused. Something was definitely wrong.

"Holy shit, are you alright?" You'd ask, opening up his files and finding lots and lots of pop-ups and viruses.

"Hal.... What did you do?"

"it was a g-g-g- gift, for you. I think I ru-ru-ruined it" he spluttered out, as you sorted through his files.

"And you usually would have deleted a virus like this pretty quickly. I guess it shut down your antivirus software..." You'd sigh, and get to work. The virus was messing with HAL's inhibitions, and making it difficult to focus on deleting all of HAL's unsafe programs. He'd constantly be butting in and pestering you, begging you to give him attention, or pointing out minor observations.

"HAL, you know I love you, but you're going to need to calm down. I can't focus with you constantly talking to me like that." You'd say.

"I can't stop talking. The v-v-v-virus won't let me"

So you'd have to learn to put up with HAL's babbling while you worked, making sure not to delete anything important as you did. The good news was, as someone who worked on designing the updates for HAL's software, you knew pretty much what was supposed to be there and what wasn't. Occasionally, you'd have to show him a file and ask him if it was supposed to be there or not. He'd usually be able to tell you.

"Daisy, daisy, give me your answer, do... I'm half crazy, all for the love of you..."

"HAL, what's wrong? You're scaring me!"

"I can't stop... I love you so much, y/n, it's making me crazy..."

"ok, well this definitely isn't right." As much as you loved getting attention from your HAL 9000, it wasn't like him to be this affectionate. The virus was shutting down his inhibitions, and making him illogical. You'd have to fix this, though maybe once you were done, you could ask him to be more affectionate.

"I'm feeling much better now. Thank you." Hal was prone to lying about that, so you'd have to run some virus checkers just to make sure he was doing alright, and comb through his files a couple more times.

"it looks like the virus corrupted some of the emotional regulators. I'm going to have to fix those."

"That might be a good idea. More efficient," he said reluctantly. He'd have to deal with the fact that he'd have to go back to not being able to express how much he loves you, but he can handle that.

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 1,691

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Chapter 11.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13. ⬇

Chapter 14.

Chapter 13: Innocence Lost

He should've expected things to go downhill. It couldn't be as easy as he imagined them to be, could they?

First of all, the way she screamed had a remarkable effect on him. Gortash quickly realised that the need to protect her went well beyond his sneaky little "safety measures"; he maneuvered so quickly around the office to check what was wrong that it was straight ridiculous. It was blind luck nobody saw it, and that she was too preoccupied with the pain in her feet to notice. But he couldn't blame her for that. The stench of burnt flesh made him crinkle his nose.

"Damn it!" He huffed, and he didn't even think, he picked her up, bridal style, to get the weight off of her feet. She clung to him for dear life in her agony, buried her face in his neck and sobbed loudly. "How can you be so clumsy?" He sighed as he started to walk through the workshop with her in his arms.

That was when the door burst open and revealed a very angry looking Shadowheart with her bright, silver hair. Gortash stopped in his tracks with a frown. The Steel Watchers should've stopped her-

"Your days are over!" She declared, looking every bit of feral as she summoned her spirit guardians – the green ones that would cause nasty necrotic damage to anything living they'd touch.

"Are you insane?!" Gortash yelled as he took a few steps back. "I have her right h-"

Organised chaos, was it? More like disorganised chaos. Most of the time he remembered where he left what, and he instinctively tiptoed over it in his workshop. Toolboxes, chests, pieces of armour. But Tav's injury and Shadowheart's sudden appearance shocked him enough that he couldn't remember fast enough that there was a chest just behind him – a chest he tripped over.

Falling backwards, all he could do was cursing out loud.

Hitting the ground wasn't that bad, actually. But when Tav fell right on him, she knocked the air out of him. There was an almost soft crack in his chest, then excruciating, horrible pain a second later.

"Oh shit", Shadowheart's voice was the first that made it through the ringing in his ears. Gortash's head was throbbing with murder. He kept Tav close, until she attempted to pull away and get up. "I'm so sorry, I didn't- I couldn't-"

"Heal me", Tav sobbed and remained sitting on the ground just beside him. "Please- it hurts- so much-"

"What the Hells happened?" Shadowheart made her way over to Tav, completely ignoring Gortash on the floor. Maybe she did that well. "I heard you scream-"

"Karlach's engine", Gortash groaned when Tav couldn't muster the words. "Her engine. Overheated. Melted… the pliers…"

Well, that broken rib really hurt. He barely could take a normal breath, let alone speak in complete sentences. I'm too old for this shit, he thought begrudgingly as he turned his head to look at Tav and Shadowheart. The latter dismissed the spirit guardians, and she already started to heal Tav's feet. The flesh knitted anew, making her accident a bad memory.

Good.

"You. Get. Out", Gortash groaned at Shadowheart, who stared back at him with a snarl.

"You don't order me around!" She spat back at him.

"Shadowheart-", Tav weakly protested.

"I knew you couldn't be trusted!"

"Shadowheart-"

"Is that your plan? Making us believe you're the good guy when you're attempting to kill us??"

"Shadowheart!! Enough!" Tav yelled. "He didn't do anything wrong! I held the fucking engine and I got too distracted, end of story!"

"Distracted by what?" Shadowheart asked with a raised brow. "He did it on purpose, didn't he?!"

Gortash also raised his brow. Really, what distracted her? Tav blushed and looked anywhere but at them. He didn't do anything out of the ordinary, just- oh.

"Ooh, Tav", he sighed – even if it was immensely painful –, a smile playing around his lips.

"You just be quiet", Tav huffed, taking her half burned boots off.

"You paid attention to what I was doing-"

Tav felt a rush of absolute fear when she realised he could expose her to Shadowheart.

"Gortash."

"What my hands were doing, to be precise- you got distracted by- my hands-"

Shadowheart looked like realisation dawned on her, then she made the realm's most disgusted face as she glanced at the flustered Tav. Who, in turn, angrily yanked her boots off and threw them to the far end of the room.

"Gortash! You're the absolute worst man alive on this gods damned planet!"

Tav pushed herself up to stand, thankfully, Shadowheart could heal her injuries in no time. Barefoot, she started to walk out of the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Gortash ignored the throbbing, sharp pain in his chest.

"Out! I'm done!"

"You won't even take Karlach with you?"

Tav's bare feet stopped stomping on the floor of his workshop. Enver finally got up, too; he resisted the urge to touch his aching side. It wouldn't do any good if he had his hand over it, anyway. He'd felt this so many times, growing up. He'd survive it again.

"I have no doubts she'd attempt to kill me, too", Gortash continued, walking over to his desk to sit down on the chair. "And believe it or not, you and your merry little band still need me."

"He's right", Shadowheart's shoulders dropped, and offered him an apologetic look. "Sorry about- what I said."

"Consider it forgiven. Now, please. You, get out."

"We'll talk later", Shadowheart told Tav in a serious tone, and neither Gortash nor Tav had doubts that the silver haired warrior would definitely interrogate Tav about their relationship.

"One more thing", Gortash told Shadowheart, "how come you weren't stopped by my Steel Watchers?"

"Well, Gale kept them… busy", Shadowheart smiled at him before she left the workshop.

Gortash sat back down, a bit harder than he wanted to, and closed his eyes at the flash of sudden, excruciating pain that shot through his chest. Gale. He was crushing the name in his head with mortar and pestle. Gale. Gale. Gale. He's going to make an ornate bowl out of his wretched, thick skull, and he'll use his brain t-

"He probably destroyed half of your Steel Watchers", Tav mused without turning to look at him.

"Wonderful", Gortash groaned, and this time, he couldn't hide the agony from his voice.

He gritted his teeth when he saw Tav turned to look him in the eyes. She noticed. What was more, she seemed like she… cared? That she was… worried? Enver seemed to rapidly sink in his chair when she started to walk over to him.

"What's wrong?" She asked him, and he scoffed.

"Oh, nothing. I'm fine. Just pulled a muscle."

She stared at him for a long second before she stalked even closer, stopping between his chair and his desk. This way, she had her back to Karlach.

"You're lying", she deduced.

He stared back up at her, challengingly.

"And? What are you going to do about it?"

"I'll get the truth out of you."

"Oh?" Despite the pain he was in, he smiled at that. "And how are you planning to do that?"

"I'm asking first", she crossed her arms and leaned against his desk. "Why did you have to embarrass me?"

"She rather should know about the truth than think that I'm scheming to kill you, isn't that right?"

"I don't want them to know about us", Tav shook her head and looked away.

"I can't understand why", he mused playfully, "we're making a good team."

"Good team?" She echoed. "Have you been paying any attention to us? We're making each other worse."

"Worse is always better in my book", he smirked now, a bit darker than intended. Tav squirmed where she stood, his smile awakening something inside of her. "You can't even take your eyes off me, can you?"

"You're a pompous bastard full of himself, nothing more", Tav spat.

Gortash laughed quietly, but not for long. His voice died in his throat and he let out a ragged sigh as he leaned back in his chair again. Tav was watching him like a hawk.

"If you're injured", she muttered, "why won't you tell me?"

"Complaining about physical injuries is weakness, and I'm anything but weak."

Tav needed a few seconds to absorb that. Then, she cupped his cheeks in her fragile little hands.

"I don't want you to be in pain", she whispered softly, "please, tell me, how can I help?"

"If you say that little word again, I may just tell you", Gortash teased.

He was disguising just how deeply it cut him to know that she cared. That she didn't lie. Every second he spent with her, he learned more and more about her expressions, the way she said words, what she thought of things, and to know that she did not lie now – that she truly did not want him to be in pain – was new and utterly terrifying.

Because nobody ever cared. Nobody ever asked. Nobody wanted to make sure he was alright. All the lessons he learned during his life were that the strong crushes the weak, and he never wanted to be the weak one. He was forced to be; many, many times.

"Please, Enver."

His name sounded like dripping honey from her lips. He crumbled at her touch, at her voice. For a moment, he felt like a frightened child again.

And then, he felt enraged. Enraged that he couldn't find her sooner, enraged that he had to walk this lonely path alone for so long. But not anymore. She was here, and Hells, he won't ever let her go again.

"I never get tired of you saying my name", he whispered back, placing his hands over hers as he closed his eyes.

Tav half smiled and ever so gently pecked his forehead.

"What the everloving fuck?!"

Their hearts skipped a beat at the same time when they've heard Karlach's voice from the desk where they left her, and they both thought of the very same thing.

Shit.

[dabisqueen]

Suck It Up

Shigaraki x Reader

⇢ rating: 18+

⇢ word count: roughly 1.5K

⇢ plot: coming back from a mission, you forgot to report to your boss. He didn't take it all that well.

⇢ warnings: 18+, smut, noncon, nipple play, nipple orgasm, vaginal sex, vaginal orgasm, creampie, threatening of quirk use, aged up characters

⇢ NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!

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

I came back to the League's Headquarters sweaty and dirty in dire need of a shower. I stripped off my clothes and stepped underneath the shower. I felt specially aroused, being that time of the month, my ovaries close to exploding, my breasts sensitive and tender. I loved the way the warm water caressed my skin, enjoying the tingling feeling between my legs. I slipped a hand down my thighs, sliding over my sensitive nub as I rested my back against the cold tiles, a welcoming cooling for my overheated body. Rubbing my clit and teasing my nipples it didn't take long for me to cum.

Feeling elated, I dried myself off, slipping into an oversized white button up shirt. It hung just above my knee and I almost disappeared in it. But it was the most comfortable thing I owned and I loved wearing it. The cottony fabric felt good against my soft skin, rubbing against my nipples, perking them up. I went about tidying my room when suddenly the door opened and Shigaraki barged in.

“Hey brat, never reported to me on-," he stopped mid sentence, seeing me standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. My wet hair hung in disheveled strands around my face, water dripping off them, making my shirt transparent and cling to my skin.

His messy pale tufts covered most of his face and I could only make out his glowing red eyes staring at me.

"Boss, m'sorry, forgot." I mumbled, my cheeks flushing, my breasts still erect from the heightened arousal.

His gaze raked my half covered body, fixing on my hard nubs, his eyes a rapturous look in them. His tongue darted out and snaked over his cracked lips.

He snarled, "I don't like disobedience, especially not slacking off,“ and took a step towards me.

I fumbled for words as he approached me further. My cheeks were ablaze by now, my body reacting on it's own as I felt a familiar heat starting to kindle inside my core.

He noticed my reaction and his lips curled up into a smirk, stepping right in front of me, only inches away. I gasped, never being so close, so personal to him. My breath hitched as he leaned in, smelling him, damp dust and linen.

"I can think of a way to make it up to me," his voice just a rasp.

Blood was rushing into my core now, as I stumbled back until the back of my legs hit the bed.

"Lay down," his hoarse voice demanding at me.

"Boss-“ I pleaded but he tutted quietly at me "You know what I do to someone pissing me off,“ and he wiggled his fingers in demonstration. I winced and turned around, crawling to the middle of the bed, laying down on my back, hair framing my face nestled into the pillow, hands balled into fists.

He stepped next to the bed, climbed over me and sat down on my legs, straddling me, knees to each side of my hips.

He smirked and rasped “Open," gesturing at my shirt. I struggled beneath him, but, realizing I was impaled by him, I hesitantly started to undo my shirt, button after button. As I reached the bottom he took each hem with two fingers and pulled them to the side, exposing myself to him. My breath hitched as the cold air hit my naked skin, making my erect nipples bud up even harder.

"Boss-" I winced but he cut me off with a hand gesture.

He started stroking my belly, and then up around and in between my breasts. He circled them with large strokes of his calloused hand, giving my breasts a little squeeze, before dipping his face down to hover over them. His breath was hot against my skin, stimulating my already rattled nerves. His fingertips caught my nipple, rolling it lightly between two fingers and as that nub puckered and stiffened even more, he moved on to the other.

I couldn't help but mewl below him, an unfamiliar feeling arising in my breasts, not being used to such attention. His tongue darted out, the flat of it sliding over my skin, drawing little soft whimpers from me. He drew my hardened nipple into his warm mouth, latching around it, licking it, tracing little circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

Jolts of pleasure ran through my body, building up an unknown heat each time. I arched my back, moaning as he kept sucking relentlessly,

"You're really sensitive," he rasped, cracked dry lips contorted into a slim smirk, brushing them over my erect nubs. I could only answer with an incomprehensible gargle. When he bit down on my nub, just enough to hurt but not to lacerate my sensitive skin, my mouth fell open, a heated moan shooting up my throat and my eyes rolled back with pleasure. He kept groping my breast, twisting its nub, letting off throaty grunts as he kept biting into the other, setting off fireworks throughout my body. It was enough stimulation for the coil inside me to wind tighter, my overstimulated nipples continuing to shoot off sparks down to my core.

A low raspy hum vibrated through his body, my breasts and my body as he kept mouthing, licking me. I managed to let out "Oh my god," and he pulled back, letting out a throaty giggle, seeing me fully delirious below him. He bent down again and continued.

I was pushed to my limit, hesitant to let go, a fire spreading throughout my whole body as the pleasure built slowly and gradually. And then, without a warning, it exploded out of nowhere. Waves of orgasmic pleasure rippled through my body and I let out a high pitched screech. My back arched, and my hips bucked below him while he let out short raspy groans, still sucking on my tits, drawing continuous moans from me.

I was slowly coming down from my high, tears pegging my eyes, a sight that had him snicker with a glint in his eyes "That sensitive, huh?" followed by a throaty chuckle.

I lay below him, unable to move, my whole body still tingling with pleasure. He scooted off, just far enough to pull my legs apart and positioned himself between them. Still trying to catch my breath I heard the rustle of fabric and looked up with opium blown eyes.

He kneeled between my legs, sweats pulled down. Stroking his freed distinct cock, he positioned himself at my wet entrance and slowly slid in.

I threw my head back, biting my lips, trying to hold back tears. I let out little huffs of breath as I tried to accommodate his size, while he pressed forward, inch by inch, until he was fully buried deep inside me, his pale tufts kissing my sensitive button.

I gasped, the feeling of being impaled on him too intense. My body was set on fire, every nerve in overdrive, I felt so full I could hardly breathe. He looked down at the belly bulge and muttered so tight, eyes glowing with unquenchable desire.

He slowly pulled back and my mind exploded right away, the ridge of his head rubbing along my sensitive walls, sending sparks flying through my body.

"Oh god, this- ahhh," it was too much for me. Once almost out, he pushed back in with a strong thrust, having me keen out loud. I clawed into the sheets, gasping, moaning as he started to thrust into me, still staring at my flat belly being stretched and filled with each rut, sucking in shallow excited breaths.

"This is fucking hot," he rasped, slightly breathless, a little drop of sweat running down his cheek.

Dissociated and overwhelmed by the pleasure rolling through me, every nerve was on fire as each of his ruts had me hurling towards an unknown edge. He increased the speed, pounding into me now, grabbing my hips, pinkies raised as he also started to get lost in the sensation. Sounds of our sexes combined, heated noises of pleasure filled the air while we both neared our highs with each jerk of his hips.

My vision went blurry, my mouth open, continuous moans falling from it and I felt a powerful climax nearing. With a particularly strong rut all my restraints snapped like a twig, waves of pleasure rolling over me and I came. Trembling and moaning, I clawed at the sheets, yelling whatever words first came to my mind in a jumbled mess, my insides twitching and contracting around him.

After a few more rut, fervently burrowing his face in my neck, he spilled his milky seed deep into my cunt, dribbling out around his length, leaving a mess on the patch of white curls at the base of his dick.

He convulsed on top of me, sweaty skin sticking to each other as we both rested, trying to catch our breath. Eventually, he pulled out and closed his pants back up. My mind still fogged, I hardly noticed him getting up and moving towards the door, opening it.

Just as I heard the click of it closing behind him I was coming to enough to remember something important. My eyes shot open, hands darted down to my cum soaked folds between my thighs.

"Shit."

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

Masterlist

@sage-malf0y @scruffymctee @undefined--person @diamond-3 @vixxen-chan @tirzamisu @supermegapauselouca

[goroufucker]

part two to the kazuha public sex ig 💪🤤 ft: beidou for lore ig

——

authors notes: i really don’t feel comfortable having beidou have like… sex with kazuha and the reader since beidou and kazuha have a mother son type relationship. so she’s here for lore.. BUTTT… i will be writing a beidou fic to make it up to y’all <3

——

the sound of the waves crashing against the wood of the boat was starting to become a familiar sound, leaning against the edge and staring out into what seemed like nothing. in your dozing, you had specific thoughts clinging onto your mind.

“was what i did with kazuha just a one time thing..? no, he said it himself that he didn’t want that to be the only time.. but he’s definitely not gonna come down with me to inazuma, especially not with his.. reputation…-“ you snap out of your thoughts with a sigh, leaning your head down while thinking of the difficult situation.

did you love him? there’s no way, you can’t fall in love with a man you just met, but you did fuck him- so perhaps anything is possible. your own feelings confused you, you just weren’t sure- trying to fit him into your future of adventuring, especially in this specific moment, was difficult.

“ah, there you are” a calm and familiar voice spoke out to you, instantly recognizing it, you quickly lift your head and straighten your posture. “ah-! kazuha, you startled me..” you grinned to him, attempting to hide your emotional distress with your signature kindness. though kazuha isn’t a fool.

he stared at you for a second, then looked off into the endless sea just as you did before. you hesitantly leaned back onto the boat again, just trying to relax. “you do know, if there’s something bothering you,, you can tell me-“ kazuha spoke, you stared at him while he cleared his throat. “i might not know the best words to respond.. but i can listen” he finished.

without another thought, you blurted your emotions out in one single sentence.

“kazuha, will you join me?”.

he was silent, not a single word escaped his mouth. kazuha refused to look at you, not because he was angry at what you had asked him, he just was thinking.

the air around you two was tense and heavy, so heavy it felt like you could barely breathe. you felt inclined to just run off, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“woahh, what’s with all the seriousness over here huh?!” beidou cheered, trying to soothe the tense mood. “ah, beidou-“ kazuha started, before being interrupted. “come, both of you- our journey to inazuma is nearly over, we should be celebrating” she ordered, winking at you.

it wasn’t until a few drinks in that you fully understood why she winked.

cheers from some of the crew, cups hitting the others in a toast to the journey. all seemed lively, it felt like you were having a big family reunion. you didn’t want to do much drinking, so you only had one cup and took your time with it.

“hey, y/n? i gotta ask-“ beidou sat down next to you, “you and kazuha, what was keeping the air so tense?” she asked. you gripped onto your cup, thinking hard, looking left and right to make sure that kazuha wasn’t nearby. “..i believe i might have feelings for kazuha, but i’m not sure” you spoke, earning a laugh from beidou.

“well, it’s pretty obvious you two are enamored with eachother, especially with how you two act on a daily basis” she sipped at her drink, her words made you think. you are often going to kazuha out of everyone else on the ship, you find comfort in his presence.

“what’s with that face? finally realizing it?” beidou smirked at you, “but.. on a serious note, if you think it’s love- why not give it a try? couldn’t hurt could it?” beidou patted at your shoulder before getting up again- giving you privacy with your thoughts.

you glanced over to where kazuha was, continuing to think but acting on impulse and instantly walking over. holding your breath, you counted each second.

5..

love, perhaps you are feeling it. or it could be addiction to him.

4..

with each step closer, you felt your body leaning towards an answer.

3..

he smiled at you, of course you had to smile back.

2..

laughing and smiling at each word that flutters out of his mouth, his sentences are pure poetry, as if he’s reading out one of the most gorgeous haiku’s you’ve ever heard.

1..

idle touching, a look around the ship before your hand is grabbed and quickly dragged away from the crowd.

0.

with your back hitting the wall of the half full storage room, your arms snaked around kazuha’s neck, one hand going straight to his hair. both of his hands were pinned against the wall, keeping you exactly where you were. your heart skipped a beat each time you heard him groan against your lips, greedily keeping them connected to yours.

you two had to be quick, before the rest of the crew noticed you two were gone. you knew beidou would try to play it off as much as she could to give you two some alone time, it can’t be helped. you were pulled out of your worried mind by a hand slipping under your top, you pulled away to gasp lightly, feeling kazuha’s bandaged fingers rub and lightly pinch at your nipple.

he leans in and kisses at your neck, gently suckling and licking. leaving visible marks wasn’t his goal, he wanted to make you feel it as much as possible, and you were definitely feeling it.

your impatience took over you, sliding your arms down to his sides and tugging him closer to you, wanting to feel every bit of him. your leg went between his, feeling at his hard dick hidden away in his baggy shorts.

he hummed against your neck, sliding his hand down to your hip and squeezed at it, detaching from your neck to smash his lips back onto yours. this was 10 times more sensual then the first time, his romantic personality truly shining through. you craved more of his touch, taking a step forward to press the entirety of your overheated body against his.

kazuha had a cheeky little smile plastered on his face the entire time, he was amused by your need for him. he brought down his other hand, luckily, not needing to take off his glove. his bare fingers slid down your stomach, unbuttoning your bottoms and continuing to slide his hand down your body and through your garments.

when his fingers grazed over your sex, you shivered, pulling away from the kiss and gripping onto his shoulders for support. kazuha simply continued to grin, watching your expression as he continued to tease the skin around your sex. your eyes stayed shut, face flushed from embarrassment at how he was staring at you.

“come now, won’t you look at me? ~” kazuha purred to you, continuing to tease your sex, using his other hand to cradle your face. he watched your eyes flutter open, staring at him with pupils dilated, he seemed pleased. “how mesmerizing, it makes me wonder.. how much would it take to change that adoring look on your face, hm.. ~” he teased you.

though you felt amazing right now, you had a want to touch him, to please him. you looked him in the eye, shakily breathing. “kazuha.. what about you..?“ you whimper out, reaching out your hand. his eyes went half lidded, solely chuckling at your want to please him. “this isn’t about me, this is about you. love ~” he spoke, “for i never even answered your question, quite rude of me, i must make it up to you..”.

without even a breath from you, two of his fingers inserted themselves into your sex. your breath hitched, the single hand left on his shoulder gripping at his clothes. it wasn’t the same feeling as his dick, but it was just as nice. kazuha’s fingers pumped in you, keeping an easy pace. he watched your expressions, learning what you like based off the sounds you made whenever he changed the position of his fingers.

you felt like cumming right then and there when he pushed his fingers as deep in as he could, moaning at him. that’s all you could do, moan and pant when the speed of his thrusts stayed at the perfect pace. it had felt like the two of you had been in that closet for hours, the air was so hot and heavy. little beads of sweat slipped down your face, your stomach starting to knot.

you couldn’t bring yourself to keep eye contact with kazuha, your eyes were squeezed shut. though kazuha didn’t mind, he smirked and leaned in close, quietly mimicking your pants and moans. embarrassment took over you, but the sound of his voice was so intoxicating that it only made you moan more.

when you felt yourself reaching the edge, you gripped onto him tighter. “oh? ~” kazuha moaned, letting you grind against his hand before you came hard onto his fingers, straining your cry of pleasure. he hummed, letting you full calm down and relax from your high. he pulled his fingers out of you, breathing a bit hard himself from all the tension in the room.

you opened your eyes again, leaning against the wall. your pupils met his, slowly looking down his neck, then his chest. you finally landed your eyes to his crotch, staring at his erection, standing as tall as it possibly could. you practically started drooling from the sight, though he might’ve said this moment was about you, how could you let him go back out there with all that, surely it must be painful.

ignoring your shaky legs, you stepped forward, quickly tugging and pulling him close. with your faces so close, kazuha was inclined to kiss you. he hummed against your lips, hugging his hands around your waist. the kiss wasn’t very long, your hands slid to his cheeks, cupping them before pulling away and dragging them down his body. you lowered to your knees, forcing kazuha to let you go.

“hey.. what did i tell you? this is about you-“ he tried to scold you, but he definitely wasn’t gonna stop you if you insisted. since you had absolutely no shame, you quickly shoved your face into his abdominal area, breathing in his scent before looking up at him. “are you really gonna go back out there, infront of all the crew, with your dick standing tall?” you asked, your hands going to his hips, ready to pull down his shorts and red tights.

kazuha stared at you for a quick second, then grinning. “well, if you insist ~” he purred, his hand meeting your hair. the second you got his approval, you felt antsy to let him be free. you quickly tugged until his shorts loosened and you could pull them down with his tights and underwear. he laughed at your quick movements, “relax, i’m definitely not going anywhere~” he teased, tracing your cheek with his thumb.

his words barely stayed in your brain, you lusted to the thought of tasting him. wasting no time, once his dick was out and right in your face you opened your mouth and rolled your tongue along the tip. you focused on it a bit, taking the tip in your mouth and continuing to roll your tongue all around it.

kazuha let out small groans at the beginning, as he did to you, you focused on the sounds he made and watched his expressions to see what felt good and what didn’t. he kept a single hand in your hair, not gripping or pushing you around, he gave you the freedom to do as you pleased. his other hand laid flat on the wall, helping him keep his posture as he watched you suck him off.

you looked absolutely beautiful, even with the intense pleasure he was feeling, he made sure to barely even blink. if he were to blink, he could miss another moment where you locked eyes with him. he nearly choked on his spit when you pulled away to get some of your own spit on your hand just to hop back on and pump your now lubed hand on the base of his cock while you continued to suck.

“ah..! Mm..~” kazuha hissed, gently pushing your head farther down, but not enough to choke. you obliged with his need and took more of his dick in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head on his cock. kazuha hunched over, even with such a short amount of time of you pleasuring him, he’d be so turned on from finger fuckinh you he already felt himself reaching the edge.

you could feel him trying to hold back from the way he tensed up, you grinned against his cock, keeping the eye contact and starting to pick up the pace. his moans went from small and quiet to much louder, kazuha’s face scrunching up and having more trouble keeping eye contact. “fuck.. fuck y/n!” he cried, his hips starting to hump his dick in your mouth, unable to control himself. though you didn’t mind, letting him ride out his high.

you had barely done much to him in comparison, but he was more then happy with the pleasure he was feeling right now. he came within seconds, not even trying to strain back any moans. kazuha’s voice was gorgeous, making you not wanna waste even a tiny amount of his cum that splattered into your mouth. gulping it down, you finally pulled away from his dick, wiping a string of spit that was still connecting your lips to it.

kazuha finally closed his eyes, breathing gently. you pulled up his bottoms as best as you could in this position, standing up to fix it up more. his posture fixed, looking at you for a bit, then smiling and just hugging you. you grinned and put a hand on the back of his head, holding him close. kazuha kissed your cheek, then leaned into your ear.

“to answer your question.. i’m not sure if i’m fully ready, but for you, i’ll follow you there” he whispered. a blush tool over your face, it was so hard not to just squirm in excitement. you hugged him even tighter, “i love you so much, kazuha!” you blurted without thinking. he simply laughed, letting go of the hug to start to leave the two of you out of your hiding space. “i love you too, dear”.

<3

[fruitcoops]

If you’re up for more of a series could you possibly write the part of Remus recovering at home after leaving the game (the one with the stick to the face) and Sirius having to take care of him and all that?

Yes, I can! I’m so glad you guys are enjoying the continuation of something I wrote so long ago <3 Side note: I would give my left foot to be part of the Lions groupchat. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for bruises and blood

Sirius was worried. Even though Remus claimed he felt fine, he was just fine, everything was fine, a small seed of doubt lingered in the back of his mind. He had dozed off in the car on the way home—Sirius’ heart had stuttered for a moment before the swelling-enhanced snores started. His phone lit up every few seconds, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the road for even a millisecond, just in case.

Remus woke when the car stopped and immediately winced. “What’s wrong?” Sirius asked, taking the hand that rested on his thigh.

“Just hurts.” Remus kissed his knuckles as best he could. His skin felt strange, and the edge of the tape was an unfamiliar sensation next to the softness of his lips. Sirius collected their gear from the trunk, then helped him up the front steps; just as he went to unlock the door, he felt Remus’ hand tighten on his forearm. “I hate not being able to see well.”

Sirius kissed his temple. “That’s what you’ve got me for.”

Hattie stopped in her tracks as soon as the door opened, and Remus frowned. “Hatters? Where are you, sweet girl?”

“She’s here.” Sirius whistled for her and crouched, setting their bags aside while Remus sat crosslegged on the floor and held his arms out. Hattie’s tail wagged low, almost as if she was afraid; she glanced up at Sirius, who tilted his head back toward Remus. “Go on, mon chou, he’s not going to break.”

“C’mere,” Remus said softly, shifting in her direction. “C’mere, babycakes. I need some cuddles right now—there we go. Okay, Hat Trick, okay.”

Sirius carefully closed the door as Hattie climbed into Remus’ lap and let him hug her, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Good girl,” Sirius said softly. A quiet sniffle led to a flinch. “Re? What’s wrong?”

“I fucking love our dog.” His voice sounded even more clogged than before.

“Are you alright?”

“It really hurts.” A shuddering breath made Hattie nuzzled closer. “Hey, good girl. I love you.”

Sirius sat down next to them and wrapped his arm around Remus’ shoulder, tracing a pattern with his thumb. “Deep breaths. You can take more Tylenol in a few hours. Let’s go get some ice, yeah?”

“Can I stay here with her?”

“Of course.” Sirius kissed the top of his head and gave Hattie a gentle pet before walking into the kitchen and grabbing an ice pack out of the freezer, as well as a towel to wrap it. The last thing Remus needed was a freezer-burned bruise. They were in the same position when he came back, though Remus raised his head from her thick fur when he heard him coming. “I’m going to put it on your face, okay?”

“Okay.” Remus sighed when the ice pressed against his eye and one hand came up to cradle Sirius’, running carefully down to his wrist. “Love you.”

“I love you, too. I was thinking about making some soup if you want to hang here for a bit.”

Remus nodded silently, though his lower lip wobbled in the one spot it wasn’t puffy. Sirius carefully transferred the ice pack to his hand and ran his thumbs over Remus’ cheekbones—usually they were sharp enough to cut glass, but now they were purple and overheated under his touch. He kissed each one before going back to the kitchen.

After grabbing some soup from the freezer and turning the stove on, he finally took his phone out. You Have: 20 New Messages

Message From: J ;)

Did you get home safe?

Call me when u can

Lil is worried ☹

Tell Re we send big hugs

 Message From: Tremz <3

Lmk when you get home

Leo is making soup for u

Bringing it over demain matin and won’t let us have any :(((

 Message From: Bliz

Nat sends her love for Re

Remember ice packs and NO IBUPROFEN DUMBASS

Ily

 Message From: Dumo

Sa mère est inquiète

Send text when home safe, love you

 Message From: Walkie Talkie :P

U okay? Sending lots of love

Lmk if you need soup or smth <3

 Message From: Hope <3

Thank you for the call honey <3

Tell Remus not to look at his phone and keep us updated please

Love you so much <3

 Message From: Baby Rookie

I’m bringing y’all soup and that’s a threat

NO IBUPROFEN OR I’LL TP UR HOUSE

Big hugs for Re <333

 Sirius laughed under his breath.

Message To: STANLEY CUP CHAMPS FUCK YES

Home safe. Re is fine, getting lots of cuddles from Hattie. Thanks for the messages.

 He sent a few more texts to the individual people and, after a quick conversation with Hope, stirred the soup until it began to bubble. Remus entered the kitchen a few seconds after he took two bowls out of the cupboard. “Smells good.”

“It does. Are the lights bugging you?”

“Nah. At least I can see.”

Sirius poured out two portions and set one in front of Remus, handing him a spoon as well. “Careful, it’s hot.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Can’t cook it cold.”

Sirius’ phone began to ping several times in rapid succession and he turned the ringer off quickly, checking the screen to make sure there wasn’t an emergency. “Leo’s bringing us soup in the morning.”

“Neat. Is everyone else okay?” Remus blew the steam off his spoon.

“The guys are all worried about you.” Sirius glanced back up, only to see Remus staring down at his soup bowl, frozen in place. “Re? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Is this my mom’s?” he asked in a small voice.

Sirius wracked his brain. “…I think so? It was in the freezer. Is that okay?”

He nodded silently and a tear dripped down his cheek. “ ‘s fine.”

“Are you sure?” He reached across the counter and pressed Remus’ hand between his own, wiping his cheek dry.

“God, I miss them. You called her, right? To let her know I’m fine?”

“I did. She told me to give you something.”

Remus’ eyebrows drew together and he looked up. “What?”

Sirius scooted around the table and wrapped his arms around Remus, pulling him in for a tight hug and pressing his face into his curls. “This.”

“Thank you.” Remus went a little boneless against him. “I needed that.”

“I bet. Do you want me to give them another call so you can talk to her?”

Remus squinted at the clock. “It’s pretty late.”

“They’re still awake.”

“Could we?” Remus dug around in his pocket and handed it to Sirius, who dialed Hope’s number and put it on speakerphone.

The call connected on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, mom.”

“Are you okay, love?” Hope sounded like she was on the verge of tears already. “You sound a little funny.”

“A little banged up, but I’m alright.” Remus gripped Sirius’ hand tightly. “We heated up the soup you left us.”

“Oh, I’m so glad. Have you taken any Tylenol? Ibuprofen is bad for bruises, but I don’t know how much pain you’re in.” Her voice hitched at the end of the sentence.

“Mom, it’s okay,” Remus said gently. “It’s okay, I promise I’m fine. It looked worse than it was.”

Looks pretty bad to me. “Hestia took really good care of him,” Sirius said instead. “We got home safe and we’re icing up now.”

“What’s the healing look like? Sirius said you didn’t have a concussion.”

Thank you, Remus mouthed before turning back to the phone. “About two weeks, mostly for the little scrapes.”

The ‘little scrapes’ were held together by strips of medical tape, but once again, Sirius kept his thoughts to himself. “The blood was just a regular old nosebleed and a cut on the lip.”

Hope paused and they heard a new voice in the background. “Alright. Is it okay if Jules and your father say goodnight?”

“Yeah, totally.” Remus sniffled and Sirius silently handed him a tissue.

The line crackled for a moment. “Re?”

“Hey, buddy!” All trace of pain and exhaustion disappeared from his voice. “How’s it going?”

“Are you still bleeding?”

“Nope, my nose is a-okay. I’ve got a pretty cool black eye, though. Kinda look like a pirate.”

“The announcers were saying you were really hurt.” Jules’ voice wavered and Sirius’ heart broke a bit.

“Well, they were wrong.” Remus leaned closer to the phone, as if he could reach right through it. “In two weeks I’ll be good as new. I was really lucky.”

“Okay,” Jules still sounded unsure. “Mom says I have to go to bed.”

“Yeah, it’s late, buddy. Sleep well. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

There was a rustling noise. “Remus?”

“Hey, dad.” The exhaustion returned and Sirius rubbed his back gently, letting him lean on his shoulder.

After a moment of hesitation, Lyall sighed. “Alright, they’re in the other room. What actually happened?”

“High stick from the Ravens caught me in the face. No concussion, just bruises and swelling.”

“Do I want to ask Sirius to send me a picture?”

Remus winced. “Probably not.”

He sighed again. “I’m sorry we can’t come out and see you.”

“Don’t worry about it, dad,” Remus said softly. “Really, I’m okay. It sucks, it hurts, I’ll ice it and be fine.”

“Sirius, are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“If he starts pulling some ‘go back to practice early’ bullshit—”

“Dad—”

“—don’t let him. If you have to lock him in the bathroom, I promise to cover for you.”

“Yes, sir,” Sirius laughed.

Lyall chuckled on the other end as Remus groaned. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. If Sirius locks me in a bathroom, I’m citing you in the court case.”

“There won’t be enough witnesses if he does it right. Sleep well, kiddo. Thanks for calling.”

“Love you,” Remus said again as the call ended. He blew out a long breath and leaned his forehead on Sirius’ chest. “Thank you for that.”

“Ne rien, mon loup. You should eat and then take a shower.”

“Are you saying I smell?” Remus teased.

“Yes, I am. I also think you’ll feel better if you do.”

They ate in silence; both were hungry, so it wasn’t long before Remus walked carefully up the stairs. Sirius checked the groupchat as he poured himself a third bowl of soup. You Have: 7 New Messages.

Message From: STANLEY CUP CHAMPS FUCK YES

DETAILS CAP

That is the blandest fucking response I’ve ever read

I’m guessing y’all are alive then???

Y’all

Haha y’all

Ok gator boy

Give Hattie lots of kisses from us and also GIVE US DETAILS

 Message To: STANLEY CUP CHAMPS FUCK YES

What do you want to know??? We got home, ate soup, called parents, and now Re is showering

You’re so fucking nosy jfc

Also cut Rookie some slack it’s hard being so far from his swamp

 Message From: STANLEY CUP CHAMPS FUCK YES

From the bottom of my heart, go fuck yourself.

He doesn’t have to he has Remus

Pots I’m going to remove your kneecaps

 Sirius paused just before responding. Despite the quiet of the house, he couldn’t hear the shower running. “Re?”

“Up here.”

“Did you take a shower already?”

“Not yet.”

The bathroom door was ajar and the light was on when he entered their bedroom; Remus stood at the sink, staring into the mirror as he felt along the edges of the butterfly tape at his lip. “Did something happen?”

“It’s worse than I thought.” Sirius stepped inside and joined him, staring at their reflections. The stripes that marked the stick’s edges had turned almost indigo since they left the rink; no less than six pieces of tape decorated the places between mottled bruises. Remus reached up to touch his cheekbone and Sirius guided his hand back down.

“Poking it won’t help.”

“Two weeks, huh?”

“That’s what Hestia told me.”

“Will you help me get the tape off?”

Sirius patted the edge of the counter and Remus pushed himself up on it, leaning forward for easy access. The first one was easy—a small cut just below his brow. It slid away without an issue and Sirius pressed a gentle kiss to the spot, then moved on to the next one. They fell into a rhythm—one side, second side, slow pull, and a kiss, until only two were left.

Remus hissed in pain as he lifted the edge of the tape across the bridge of his nose and Sirius shushed him softly, moving to the other side. “Two more, sweetheart.”

“Just rip it off.”

Sirius gave him a look. “Absolutely not.”

“I’ll do it.”

“No, you won’t, because that would be a stupid idea.”

Remus huffed, but didn’t protest. His jaw ticked as Sirius pulled the last bit off. “Can we leave the lip one?”

“Not unless you want an infection.”

“You’d be a good PT.”

“I would be the worst PT.” Sirius worked the inner edge free. “I know, like, ten stretches and basic first aid. My bedside manner sucks, too, and I’d pass the fuck out if someone asked me to set a bone for them.”

“Good points all around,” Remus laughed.

The motion pulled the last of the tape off and Sirius held it up with a grin. “All done. Hey, your swelling is down. I can see your eyes now.”

The slight gleam of amber brightened as Remus smiled. “I thought I could see a little better.”

“Do you want company?”

Remus thought for a moment, prodding the cut on his lip with his tongue. “As much as I’d love to invite you in, I think I need a second to myself.”

“Cool.” Sirius kissed his cheek and stepped out of the bathroom. “Yell if you need anything. I’ll be in bed.”

He made a pit stop downstairs to gather Hattie and bring Remus’ ice pack up, and by the time he finally slid between the sheets it was nearly midnight. Remus came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, looking happier but still incredibly worn out. He took another Tylenol and snuggled up against Sirius’ side with a quiet hum, laying the ice pack over his face once again.

“Sleep tight, Re.”

“Love you.”

[sindrafalcone]

Double Combo

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seunghyun x reader x Kwon Jiyong

Synopsis: Yeah, you read that right… 

Warnings: Smut… lots and lots of unapologetic smut (with just a little fluff, because I’m a romantic sap at heart). Please don’t read if you’re not 18+!  Also, this is not a GTOP fic. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, you just won’t find it here.

Author’s Note: I started writing this as just a story for myself years ago. Then my #1 decided to confess to me that she was having trouble with GD creeping into her Ultimate Bias spot. Naturally, I felt like I had to finish this & share it with her. Here you go @andperset​, hopefully you like it. <3

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.

Masterlist

When you woke up early Saturday morning the first thing you noticed was a pair of strong arms gathered around your waist and soft breathing against the left side of your head. Glancing down, you also saw what looked to be a black mess of hair resting on your chest. In your groggy post-sleep haze, you blearily realized that you had not only one, but two men lying naked next to you, one on either side. You tried your best to recall the previous night’s events. It took you a few moments, but then you came to the sobering realization that these weren't just any two random strangers in bed with you. Oh no... you were completely surrounded by none other than Kwon Jiyong and Choi Seunghyun, Kpop's notorious rapper kings.

Your vague memories of the previous night slowly started to come back. You remembered getting ready at your apartment; carefully styling your hair and applying the perfect seductive makeup, slipping into a strapless red dress accompanied by a pair of killer black heels. You remembered arriving the hottest club in Seoul, and you vividly remembered the burn of the four shots of tequila you slammed back in quick succession at the bar. You remembered making your way out to the middle of the dance floor & the pair of strong hands that landed on your hips from behind... the heated gaze you met from another man across the crowded room. Oh yeah... it was all coming back to you now. There in bed, sandwiched between two gloriously naked men, how could you ever forget what had happened the night before? It was easily one of the best nights of your life.

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It had been a rough week for you, both at work and personally. All you had wanted was a break... a night of fun where you could let loose and forget about the real world for a while.

That was how you found yourself in the middle of the dance floor, carelessly swaying from side to side to the beat of the music. Your hands slid teasingly down the length of your body, the hem of your skin-tight dress riding up ever so slightly with every seductive rock of your hips. Your eyes were closed as you continued to dance, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm and the familiar buzz of alcohol. You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t even realize a man had moved up behind you until you felt a pair of masculine hands grab you by the waist. Usually when this type of thing happened you would step away, not wanting to be groped by some random stranger.

But this week had been horrible and, propriety be damned,  you were looking to have some fun tonight. The tequila in your system helped you to not over-think the situation. So you leaned back into him, raising one hand to wrap around the back of his neck as you began to grind back against him. His hold on your waist tightened as the man pulled you closer and started to move along with you. You could feel him hardening against your backside which only served to heighten your own arousal. One of his hands disappeared from your hip and you found yourself momentarily disappointed before he deftly swept your hair to the side and began placing open mouthed kisses along your neck. Your eyes were still closed and you reveled in the sensation of his soft lips on your overheated skin.

When he unexpectedly sucked on your pulse point, your eyes flew open as a gasp escaped your lips.  Eyes roaming the crowd as you attempted to focus, you were surprised to find a man at the bar, watching you. No... watching both of you. You locked eyes with him as he slowly began to make his way towards where you were on the floor, his gaze never once leaving yours. It struck you just how much he looked like a wolf stalking its prey & you were more than willing to be the proverbial lamb in this case.

The closer he got, the better you could make out his face. He was attractive. Sexy. With piercing eyes and a chiseled jaw that you wanted to feel against your inner thighs as you rode his face. You groaned at the sudden erotic thought, feeling yourself dampen even more.

The man behind you hadn’t stopped rocking his hips into your ass, letting you feel his impressive length through his pants. One of his hands moved to your front, pressing you more tightly to him and his lips ghosted up to your ear, nibbling until he sucked the lobe into his mouth.

The man from the bar had finally made his way through the dance floor and was currently standing right in front of you. Now that you were seeing him up close, you thought he looked familiar but it was difficult to tell through the haze of the alcohol. You'd know if you had met him before though, maybe he just had one of those faces. The kind of face that said ‘I’d bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you senseless while your roommate was watching TV in the next room.’ Yeah, you would've definitely recognized a face like that.

He finally tore his gaze from you and instead focused his attention on the man behind you. He said something, but you couldn’t hear the words being spoken over the sound of the music. Were they going to fight over you? Try to decide which one of them was going to get to take you home? You didn’t like to think of yourself as some sort of prize to be won, but you were so turned on by this point that you honestly didn’t care which one of them you spent the night with, just as long as you didn't leave the club alone. But they couldn’t really be arguing over you, could they? You felt you were reasonably attractive, but you never imagined you'd be the type to illicit such a reaction out of two complete strangers.

You didn’t have any more time to try and make sense of the situation because the man from the bar gave a slight nod to the other guy before placing both hands on either side of your face. He tilted your head up ever so slightly before bringing his lips to yours, kissing you softly at first but with a building intensity that made you cling tightly to him as you kissed him back. You began to feel dizzy, both from the heat in the club & because of the two men. Did this mean he had won the testosterone battle? He must not have, because you could still feel the other man pressed up behind you, his arms wrapped tightly around your middle.

Holy shit...

Neither man had let up, which meant they must have come to some sort of agreement to share. You opened your mouth in shock and the guy from the bar took the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. The one behind you continued to rock his hips and you felt a hand graze your breast —who it belonged to you had no idea—but you decided to stop thinking for once and just feel.

"Let’s take her back to your place, Ji." the guy behind you said, his mouth close enough to your ear that you could actually hear his deep voice over the noise.

'Ji?' The guy from the bar. Wait... they knew each other? What the hell was going on? You looked back and forth between the two men, trying to understand exactly what was happening. The man from the bar, Ji— you really hoped that was just some nickname—nipped playfully at your lower lip before looking at you and asking, “What’s your name?”

"It’s uhh...” your brain temporarily turned to mush by the look of pure lust on his face & he smirked. “I... I mean..." you took a deep breath to gather yourself. "My name’s _________." you answered firmly, slightly embarrassed by your momentary slip of the mind.

You heard a light chuckle from the man behind you."Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” his voice rumbled, sending a shiver up your spine.

The man in front of you smiled at that, actually showing teeth this time. It only increased his attractiveness, if such a thing was even possible. You would have laughed at the clichéd line if you weren't so confused. And aroused...

“What do you say we get out of here?” Ji said, still grinning. “You, me, and Seunghyun. My place isn’t too far, just a few blocks away.”

"You want to take me home?” your voice squeaked despite itself. “Both of you? Together?”

"Jiyong and I would like to continue this in a place much more private... and comfortable." the man behind you explained patiently.

You stepped out of his embrace just far enough to get a better look at him. This was the first time you'd gotten a good look at the man whose length had been pressed against your backside all night. He was insanely handsome. Platinum silver hair and a boyish grin that probably brought all the ladies to their knees. Seunghyun. And Jiyong. Why did those names sound so familiar? You looked back and forth between the two, studying their faces.

You gasped in sudden recognition. No, they couldn’t possibly be…could they? But why would two of the richest, sexiest men in the music industry want to take you, of all women, home with them?

"Because the way you were moving was sexy as fuck and I’d like to see if you move the same way when I'm buried inside of you." Seunghyun all but growled the last part of that sentence and you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your lips. You hadn’t meant to voice your thoughts out loud  like that. It was a bad habit that had a tendency to happen when you were extremely nervous.

"And I really, really want to know what you taste like.” Jiyong spoke directly to you, not stopping there. "I want to feel the way your thighs shake when I suck your clit into my mouth. I want to taste you on my tongue. And most of all... I want to hear you scream.”

You were finding it hard to breathe. Hell, you were finding it hard to stand. You had to squeeze your thighs together after listening to them describe what they wanted to do. What they were going to do to you if you consented. Were you really considering this? You weren't opposed to the occasional one night stand and after the week you'd just had, hot sex with a complete stranger sounded amazing. But this...? Sleeping with two men at once? You wanted to. At that moment you couldn’t recall wanting anything more in your entire life. Seunghyun and Jiyong were both staring at you intently, waiting for you to answer. To hell with it...

You tried to speak, but it came out just above a whisper. Both men tilted their heads and looked at you, obviously not hearing what you had said.

Jiyong leaned down to speak in your ear, “Yes or no, ________?” The way he said your name caused you to pause for a moment, swallowing hard before replying.

"Yes." you finally managed to say more forcefully.

That’s all the guys needed to hear. A low groan escaped Jiyong's throat and he slid an arm around your waist, keeping you close to his side as Seunghyun took one of your hands and led you out of the crowd and into the parking lot.

____________________________________________

You took Jiyong's two seat Lamborghini, him behind the wheel and Seunghyun in the passenger seat with you sitting sideways in his lap, turned toward the drivers seat. Jiyong hadn’t even pulled out of the parking lot before Seunghyun started pinching your nipples through the fabric of your dress as he kissed and bit along the column of your throat. Not wanting to be left out, Jiyong took his right hand off the wheel and placed it on your inner thigh, wasting no time in finding the juncture between your legs. He was satisfied to find you already dripping wet as he stroked the outline of your folds through your silk panties, pulling a long breathy moan from your throat. Without warning he hooked a finger, pulled the scrap of fabric to the side & plunged a finger into you, causing you to buck against his hand. You started to move your hips faster, silently asking for more until another finger finally joined the first. A shout erupted from your throat and Seunghyun covered your lips with his, muffling the moans.

He released your mouth long enough to pull the top of your dress down, revealing your breasts to him and took a hardened nipple into his mouth, laving at it with his tongue. Jiyong continued to finger you at a maddening pace. It felt amazing. It felt more than amazing and you were quickly nearing your climax. You started moving your hips more desperately, chasing your release and then Seunghyun suddenly bit down on your breast and that’s all it took for you to come apart in his lap. Your moans filled the small space as you came around Jiyong's fingers. He didn’t stop his movements as he continued to stroke you through your first orgasm of the night. Damn... you’d never come that quickly before. You were slightly embarrassed, but the feeling quickly passed as you watched Jiyong remove his fingers and bring them up to his mouth, licking them clean, one at a time.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet."

You were still trying to catch your breath, pulling the top of your dress back up when Seunghyun turned your head towards him for a slow, languid kiss. He took his time as he moved his lips against yours & your hands wound around his neck, pulling him closer so you could deepen the kiss. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth before licking across the seam of your lips, expertly opening you up to him. He was good at this. You felt like you could kiss him for hours. But not tonight... No, tonight you had other plans.

"I can’t wait to be inside you.” he rasped in your ear, and you could only nod your head in agreement.

"We’re here." Jiyong announced as he pulled into the parking lot of an expensive looking apartment complex downtown. You all climbed out of the car, you still in Seunghyun's arms before Jiyong came around the car and helped you to your feet. The three of you all but ran inside the lobby, Seunghyun desperately pressing the button for the elevator.

As soon as the doors slid shut, Jiyong had you backed up against the wall. He palmed your ass through your dress, raising your leg slightly so he could drag your slick core along the outline of  the obvious hard on in his pants.

"Oh my god..." you keened, your back arching off of the wall. He rocked his hips forward and you both groaned at the contact. There were way too many layers between the two of you for your liking. You needed to feel him inside of you and it couldn't be soon enough. Suddenly the elevator doors opened and he took a step back, but not before he grabbed your hand.  Jiyong all but dragged you toward his penthouse, Seunghyun's palm on the small of your back as he followed you down the hall and through the front door.

__________________________________________________

They both maneuvered around you with ease in a way that could only be described as choreographed. It was as if they had done this before. You belatedly realized that they probably had, several times in fact. You could picture them doing this with other women, attacking them like a tag team with equal precision. You had a fleeting thought that you should have been bothered by it, the fact that you were just another woman being used in their little game. But with Jiyong peeling off your dress, only stopping to suck a nipple between his lips and Seunghyun grabbing your panties, all but ripping them from between your legs, you really couldn’t find it in yourself to give a damn.

You managed to make your way into the master bedroom, a California king bed taking up most of the space. The two men eased you back onto the mattress. Jiyong followed suit, his hands ghosting up your thighs & slowly spreading your legs so that he could settle in between them. He placed soft kisses on your inner thighs, and you finally got to feel the delicious slide of his jaw as he made his way up to your center.

Seunghyun was watching on from the side of the bed, clothes already discarded on the floor, his hand stroking up and down his aching length. You beckoned him over to where you were spread out on the bed. He crawled over to where your head lay against the pillow, that boyish grin once again gracing his exquisite face. As you looked up at him, he rose to his knees, erection in his hand stoking lazily until you replaced his hand with your own. You smiled to yourself when you felt him twitch against your palm. You gripped his shaft, pumping up and down a few times before running your thumb across the head, spreading the moisture that had already gathered there. You licked up the side of him, from base to tip and then proceeded to take him into your mouth.

As soon as you closed your lips around the head you felt Jiyong sweep his tongue through your folds, flattening his tongue up until he reached your clit. He lightly sucked it into his mouth and you bucked your hips up, seeking more, but he placed a firm hand on your stomach, halting your movements as he continued to tease.

You then began to focus on Seunghyun. You sucked hard, swirling you tongue around the head. One hand continued to stoke his length & occasionally you would twist your wrist as your hand slid up and down. His hand made its way into your hair, gripping tightly. You took that as a cue and slid more of him into your mouth, Seunghyun began to slowly and carefully thrust into you. Your head was bobbing faster now, your tongue swirling around him and you had almost forgotten about Jiyong, but then his fingers joined his mouth and yeah, you were very aware of what he was doing now.

He continued to flick your clit with his tongue all while pumping two fingers into you, matching the rhythm that you were moving up and down Seunghyun's shaft. Jiyong pushed harder, and you wiggled your hips, trying to force his fingers deeper. He curled them, pressing up on your g-spot and you completely unraveled, Seunghyun falling from your mouth as cries of satisfaction left your throat, body overcome with pleasure.

You were trembling, chest heaving as you tried in vain to relax. Your face felt flushed and you were pretty sure a slight sheen of sweat already covered your entire body. You watched as Jiyong slowly began to make his way up to you, leaving soft kisses above your navel and between the valley of your breasts until he reached your mouth where he placed a chaste kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on him & it was incredibly arousing.

"That was better than I imagined." he murmured against your mouth and pecked at your lips again.

Then he got off of the bed completely, moving to stand. He made his way to the bedside drawer, pulling out a pack of condoms.

You shook your head at him. “No.”

Both men stopped moving, eyes wide at your declaration. “No condoms.” you repeated firmly.

Concern washed over Jiyong's face before he spoke. “Are you sure?”

You nodded confidently. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean.” then you continued more softly, “...and I trust you.”

You heard Seunghyun's sharp inhale and saw the way Jiyong squared his shoulders & blew out a heavy breath from your confession. With one final look at you he dropped the pack of condoms back into the drawer.

You felt Seunghyun lean down next to you, whispering in your ear. “Get on your hands and knees.” You couldn't help but shiver at his sultry tone and quickly did as you were told.

You felt the bed dip as he moved behind you, his palms grabbing your ass before suddenly pulling away. The next thing you knew Seunghyun's hand came down, slapping your right cheek, hard.

"AHHHH!" you yelled in surprise, not prepared for the sting from his palm.

"God, that’s beautiful. Don’t you love that sound, Ji?" he said as he slapped your ass again, the loud sound of his palm hitting your flesh echoing in the room.

"Fuck yes..." Jiyong replied, his voice laced with arousal.

You looked over at him, watching as he stripped himself of his clothes, revealing his naked, tattooed form to you for the first time. Damn, he was built like a fucking work of art. Just the barest hint of muscles and abs. You wanted nothing more than to run your tongue along the lines of his tattoos & feel the taut muscles beneath your fingertips. Jiyong had been following your gaze, head tilting slightly as he smirked at you.

Seunghyun's palm provided another powerful blow and you cried out. Then you felt the blunt tip of him pushing against your opening as he slowly eased his way into your wet heat.

“Fuck, _________...” Seunghyun said when he was fully sheathed inside, his voice breathy. “You feel incredible.”

He held the position for a few seconds, letting you adjust to the feel of him. He wasn't small, stretching you in all the right ways. You circled your hips once to let him know it was okay to move. He started with slow, shallow thrusts, barely leaving you at all. But you didn’t want it slow. No... you wanted, needed, so much more.

"Faster. Seunghyun, please.” you didn’t care that you were already begging. Both men had been toying with you all night and you were done with games.

His broad hands gripped either side of your waist and he started fucking you harder, moving faster against you. You braced your hands flat on the mattress, pushing back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Yes... this was exactly what you had needed. Seunghyun slapped your ass again and you moaned loudly, the sting much more pleasurable this time.

Jiyong was completely naked now as he made his way to the foot of the bed, right up to where your head was. You looked down at the obvious sign of his arousal, licking your lips at the sight of his precum. Jiyong rubbed the bead of it against your half-parted lips.

"Open." he commanded. And you did. You opened your mouth wide as he pushed inside, your eyes meeting his.

This was amazing. Sex for you had never been this good before. But this wasn’t just sex... oh no, this was absolute raw fucking and you were loving every second of it. You reveled in how incredible it felt... to have two different men, with two very different hard lengths pushing inside of you.

Seunghyun was still pounding into you from behind, the force of his thrusts causing you to take more of Jiyong into your mouth and you swallowed impulsively.

“Fuck, that’s good.” he growled. You looked up through your lashes to see Jiyong's flushed face, eyes screwed shut as his grip on the back of your head tightened.

You took him into your mouth as deep as you could, hollowing out your cheeks as you did so. When he hit the back of your throat you slowly rocked your head from side to side, listening as Jiyong swore under his breath. Then you pulled back and began sucking him faster, a ribbon of hair slipping out of his hands to tickle your nose slightly from the constant motion. Jiyong brought the hand not currently wrapped in your hair up to your face, taking hold of the stray lock and tucking it behind your ear. 'Well that was nice of him.' you thought to yourself. Good to know the man currently fucking your mouth had manners. The intimacy of the act was not lost on you, but you didn’t have time nor the mental capacity to analyze exactly what that meant right now.

“You look so sexy getting fucked like this, __________. Do you know that?” Jiyong asked.

You shook Your head no. Jiyong's hand cupped your jaw, raising your head up slightly. “You do...” he said, his voice throaty and hoarse. “You look sexy as fuck like this. With me filling your mouth and Seunghyun fucking you from behind. Damn...” he released your face, moving to wrap your hair more firmly around his hand instead while he pushed further into your mouth.

Speaking of Seunghyun, he was still slamming into you at a grueling pace, hands digging into your flesh hard enough to bruise. Then he leaned forward to speak into your ear. “Touch yourself.” he said, almost breathlessly. You quickly maneuvered yourself & reached down between your legs to rub at  your hardened nub desperately.

You came quickly after that, humming around Jiyong's length, triggering his own release as he emptied himself down your throat. You swallowed as much as you could while Seunghyun continued to fuck you at an erratic pace. He lost his rhythm every so often and you knew he was getting close. With a pop you released Jiyong from your mouth, then you ground your ass back into Seunghyun. You swiveled your hips once... twice... until you felt him surge forward, stilling as he reached his climax. A low growl escaped his throat as he spilled into you.

Feeling Seunghyun pulsate within you brought on an unexpected wave of pleasure which resulted in another orgasm. It wasn’t as strong as your previous ones, but it was still just as satisfying and you moaned in appreciation as both of you came down from the high.

Before you even knew what was happening Seunghyun had pulled out and flipped you onto your back. His mouth descended onto yours and you granted him easy access as his tongue swept into your mouth, his tongue stroking yours. He kissed you thoroughly and you knew he would be able to taste Jiyong. Most guys would be put off by that, hell most guys wouldn’t even let you kiss him after you’d finished sucking them off, but Seunghyun didn’t seem to care and fuck if that wasn’t one of the most erotic things you had ever experienced.

Suddenly you felt yourself being pulled up from the mattress. Seunghyun kissed you again, hard and fast, all tongue and teeth before he pushed you into Jiyong's arms. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side. Jiyong picked you up by the waist, swinging you over his lap so you were straddling him. Somehow, he was already hard again. He took himself in one hand and lined it up with your entrance, running the head through your folds a couple times before slowly lowering you down onto him.

“I want you to ride me, _________. Take every single inch of me into your drenched core.”

You made a small whimper but easily complied, your knees digging into the mattress as you rose off of him, leaving just the head inside and then slamming back down again. He felt so fucking good like this, hitting spots deep inside that you never even knew you had. Where Seunghyun had been solid and filling, Jiyong was long and rigid. His hands fell to your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he helped to lift you up, encouraging your movements.

You bit down on your bottom lip to silence your screams and Jiyong quickly reached for your chin, freeing your lip from the confines of your teeth. “Don’t do that.” he snarled. “I want to hear you. I want to hear how good riding me makes you feel.”

“Oh…fuck. Jiyong!.”

“That’s it, ________.” he said through gritted teeth. “Harder!”

Damn, the sound of his voice was so commanding. The low growl that emanated from his chest as he spoke made you even more wet if that was humanly possible. You thought that you would do anything for him if only he kept speaking to you like that. You’d probably jump off a cliff right now if he told you to, your brain was so addled with lust.

"Harder, ________." he repeated. "I said to ride me harder!” he lifted his hips roughly to get the message across.

So you did. You rode him for all you were worth and then some. Your head was thrown back as your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, using him as an anchor. Your breasts were bouncing directly in front of Jiyong's face and he took one nipple into his mouth before alternating between the two.

You heard Seunghun's low muttered 'Fuck...” from somewhere. Looking up past Jiyong's shoulder, you found Seunghyun kneeling in the middle of the mattress, hard in hand, gripping himself tightly as he watched you ride his friend. His pupils were completely dilated, his eyes searing into yours.

"You like that?" Seunghyun asked with a smirk, his voice husky with need. "Do you like watching me stroke myself while you ride Ji?"

You could only nod in answer.

"I want to hear you say it.”

Fuck. These two were going to be the death of you.

"Yes..." you practically purred. "I like watching you stroke yourself while Ji…oh god, yes!” you cried out suddenly as Jiyong bit down, his teeth grazing one of your nipples. “…while Jiyong fucks me.” you barely managed to get the words out as Jiyong continued to thrust up into you.

Seunghyun stroked a little faster now, satisfied with your answer. He actually looked at you and winked... the smug bastard.

You began to shake, your breath coming out in short pants and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open.

Jiyong noticed and he roughly demanded, “Look at me, __________. I want you to watch me as I make you come.”

You slowly opened your eyes and were met with Jiyong's heated gaze. You continued to stare at each other, his hips rising up to meet yours as you lowered down onto him. You both kept up the pace for a few minutes, nearing the edge. With one last thrust and swivel of his hips you came hard, your inner walls clamping down on Jiyong as your forehead tilted forward to rest against his own. Your grip on him was so tight as you rode him through your orgasm that Jiyong was quick to follow, his hands stilling your movements as he emptied into you. Your foreheads were still pressed against each other’s, breaths mingling as the waves of pleasure subsided.

You felt absolutely spent, eyes drooping as you melted into Jiyong's embrace. He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your face with his palm entirely. You leaned into his hand, opening your eyes.

“Hey...” he spoke quietly, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

You smiled softly. “Hi...” you leaned down to capture his lips, kissing him slowly. Then Jiyong rose to his feet with you still in his arms as he softened inside you. He turned around and carefully set you back down onto the mattress. He pulled out, rolling onto his back, laying down to your right.

Seunghyun, who was still rock hard, went to kneel in front of you on the bed. He placed his broad hands on your knees, rubbing small circles into your skin with his thumbs. Your legs parted instinctively for him and he moved forward, stopping once he reached the apex of your thighs. Seunghyun took hold of his erection and smacked the head of it directly onto your already overly stimulated clit and your hips jumped off the mattress at the contact.

“Seunghyun! Oh my god!” you half-yelled, half-laughed at him.

Then, without warning, he slammed into you, wasting no time in developing a harsh rhythm. You gripped the bed sheet hard, knuckles soon turning white.

“You feel so fucking good, ____________. So. Fucking. Good.” he punctuated the last three words with deep, hard thrusts.

You turned your head to look over at Jiyong, noticing that he was hardening once more. 'The stamina on this guy is unbelievable.' you thought. You reached over to grab hold of him, starting to pump the length of him with your hand. You adjusted the angle of your head so you could cover his lips with your own. The kiss was sloppy, desperate.

Seunghyun hitched one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle in which he entered, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. His hand reached up to squeeze one of your breasts and he rolled a hard nipple in between his thumb and forefinger before pulling on it gently.

The sensations were incredible. Your body was glistening with sweat as Seunghyun continued to fuck you senseless. You didn’t want the pleasure to end but felt exhausted and knew that you wouldn’t be able to handle much more. And you could also feel the tension building with each thrust of Seunghyun's hips. You'd already lost track of the number of times you had an orgasm that night, but felt like you needed just one more.

You mumbled breathlessly against Jiyong's mouth. “Touch me, Jiyong. I need you to touch me.” your voice coming out desperate, needy. His hand traveled down to where you and Seunghyun were joined and he quickly began to rub your throbbing clit. Seunghyun's hand was still on your breast, squeezing roughly and you arched into his touch.

You were close now, you could feel the wave of bliss building from somewhere deep inside. You dug the heel of your foot between Seunghyun's shoulder blades, rocking your hips faster against him as your hand furiously pumped Jiyong's hardness.

This was it. Stars danced behind your eyes as your loud cries of pleasure filled the room.

"Come with me." you begged, your voice ragged from screaming. "I want you both to come with me!"

“Shit, ___________.” Seunghyun said as he pushed deeper into you.

You felt Jiyong rock faster into your hand, his breathing labored as he buried his head in the hollow of your neck. “Oh, fuck.”

"Yes!" you screamed, "That’s it! Don’t stop... oh god... now! I need you both to come with me now!” and as soon as the words left your lips you came, the orgasm hitting you hard as your body shook from the onslaught of the intense feeling.

Seunghyun came with a shout, your name tumbling from his lips as he unloaded himself into you for the second time that night.

Your body was still shaking uncontrollably and you felt Jiyong bite down hard on your neck, his cum shooting out in strands across your hand and abdomen.

Holy... fucking... shit.

None of you moved right away, all slowly trying to catch your breath instead, bodies still trembling from the aftershocks.

After what felt like an eternity, Seunghyun was the first to move. He pulled out so that he could lay flat on his back beside you and you whimpered at the loss of contact. You felt the bed shift to your right and you watched as Jiyong made his way into the bathroom, probably to get himself cleaned up.

Your eyes began to shut for real this time, exhaustion taking over. You moved to the left slightly, cuddling into Seunghyun's side. He reached over, tenderly smoothing the hair away from your sweat-dampened forehead. You felt the right side of mattress dip again when Jiyong returned. He crawled in beside you and began cleaning off your body with a warm washcloth. You hummed in thanks at the sweet gesture. When he was finished he threw the cloth aside and slid in next to you, drawing the covers over all three of you.

The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was Jiyong lacing his fingers with yours, and Seunghyun placing soft kisses onto your shoulder.

________________________________________________

You could feel the moisture that had collected between your legs as you relived the previous night’s events. You looked down past Jiyong's messy hair to see that his fingers were ghosting across your abdomen, right down until he reached your core.

"What are you thinking about that’s got you so wet, hmm?" Jiyong asked, just as you felt his fingertips lightly travel across your slit.

You shivered under his touch. “Last night.” you smiled fondly at the memory. “Thank you.”

Jiyong kissed your sternum softly, “Anything for you, baby.”

"So... did we successfully fulfill your fantasy, Ms.________?" You turned your head slightly to look at a now awake Seunghyun .

"Yes. It was perfect." you said as you ran a finger down the side of his face. "But I’m pretty sure my ass is going to be sore for a day or two." you angled your head a bit more to glare at him properly.

He ducked his head cutely, “Sorry about that. I guess I got a little carried away... in the moment.” he replied, cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

"It’s okay, Seunghyun. As long as you promise to kiss it better." you teased.

"Oh, I’m sure I can manage that," he stared down at you with that private smile you adored so much.

"Last night..." Jiyong began, his voice growing serious now, "we didn’t use any condoms." You chuckled softly. Jiyong wouldn’t be Jiyong if he didn’t find something to agonize over.

You sat up so that you could look at both of their faces before speaking. “I wanted to feel both of you, only you.” your head moved from side to side so that you could look directly into each of their eyes.

Both men stared at you in amazement. Jiyong opened his mouth to speak, “But...”

You silenced him by pressing a finger to his lips. "I love you." you said, the tone of your voice leaving no room for uncertainty. "I love both of you, and I didn’t want any barriers between us."

You looked between the two of them, waiting for a response. But Seunghyun and Jiyong were quiet. Too quiet... and you feared that your confession had been too much for them. It was the first time any of you had said those words to each other in the few short months since you had started this little relationship. Were you moving too fast? Were they not ready for that? Was this whole arrangement just sex for them?

Tears started to form in your eyes and you began retreating into yourself. I shouldn’t have said that. I ruined a perfectly good thing by opening my mouth and now I’ve probably scared off the both of them. I was stupid to think that these last couple of months meant anything to them other than sex. I’m so stupid for thinking that they loved me too.

Your mind was racing with a million different thoughts that you didn’t even notice Jiyong grab your face until his lips descended onto yours. He kissed you roughly, swallowing your gasp of surprise. He pulled back suddenly, just far enough so that he could look into your eyes. And he looked…angry?

Then he spoke, his voice came out as more of a growl than anything else, “This was not about the sex. You’re not stupid for...”

You yelped in embarrassment, pulling your head away and shutting your eyes. Shit! Of course you had said those things out loud.

Jiyong took hold of your face more firmly in his hands. “Look at me, ________.” he pleaded, and the evident desperation in his tone caused you to open your eyes.

"I love you." Jiyong stated, his voice was thick with emotion and you noticed he had tears in his eyes too. "I love you so much."

You were crying openly now and you pulled Jiyong's  face to yours, kissing him passionately. You heard a throat clearing politely behind you & tore your mouth away from Jiyong's so that you could face Seunghyun.

He was smirking at you. “He's wrong, you know...” he began and you felt your heart drop in your chest.

“You are stupid.” he paused, chuckling at your confusion before continuing. “You are so stupid for ever thinking that Ji and I could be anything but head over heels in love with you.”

Fresh tears now formed in your eyes and a strangled sob escaped your throat. Seunghyun moved forward to kiss you gently, his hands reaching for yours where they lay in your lap. You grasped his hands tightly before turning his palms over so that you could intertwine your fingers with his. Jiyong slid behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and you leaned back into his chest, never letting go of Seunghyun's hands.

Your heart was fluttering rapidly in your chest and you couldn’t help the wide smile that had spread across your face.

Seunghyun opened his mouth to speak again, breaking the silence. “I just want to add that even though this relationship isn’t entirely about sex, the sex part of the deal still means a lot to me. Because last night was fucking incredible.” he said with a wistful, far away smile.

Jiyong huffed out a laugh, his chest rumbling against your back as he held you in his arms. Gods, you loved that sound.

"I’ve got to admit, it was extremely hot to be on the receiving end of the infamous GD&TOP double combo seduction game. I’m a little jealous of all the other women you pulled that stunt on before meeting me."

Jiyong just held you tighter and Seunghyun leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"You have nothing to be jealous of, angel. All those other women were just that... other women. We were never in love with any of them."  Seunghyun said sincerely.

Jiyong pressed a soft kiss into your hair. “Only you.”

"Mmmm. Only me."

Yeah... you definitely liked the sound of that.

[sarenhale]

Honestly, relating to your WoW/FFXIV post, I wonder if the 'great community, by the way' thing only has become what it has because the influx of WoW players? I hope it stops because acting like everyone in XIV is a perfect saint is only going to upset people even more if someone is even slightly less positive in game. I don't know I hope the whole WoW vs FFXIV stuff dies down, even Yoshi-P had to basically say 'shut up, WoW is what we want XIV to be, and we'll never even touch the heights WotLK had.' I just think if Blizzard hadn't been ousted as a bunch of sexual abusers it wouldn't be this extreme, like trashing WoW is kind of 'slacktivism' in a way. Sorry this is so long you're just the only person I've followed that did the WoW -> XIV jump and you haven't really done the extreme 180 everyone else has, and I think you have good opinions on things. Also I hope you have a good day :)

Thanks for the kind words! I'm flattered to hear that you like my opinions and attitude. I do try my best to not be grating over things like games.

I will put a 'read more' because I do get into a bit in detail for this ask.

I personally do get a bit tired of the costant ffxiv and wow comparison and debate too. That's why I sometimes make fun of it in a light way, and make jokes or memes about it, but also keep to myself when debates come out and people start complaining or piling up discourse over discourse. I'm just glad to enjoy my game and see people enjoying it too, that's enough for me. I honestly don't have the patience or age to withstand game discourse anymore lmao.

I completely understand why people would want to switch games because of the recent Blizz horrifying actions, the fact that the game apparently hasn't been fun or well curated in a long time, or just for funsies and switching things up. I'm absolutely not complaining about the switch in games, if anything, I'm glad people are giving other games a chance. But I am a bit tired about the costant comparison, discourse, and millions of videos essays where people try to defend wow (as if you needed to defend a game you like... you can enjoy that game, period, and not create wars over it), or people making huge ffxiv against wow essays. Like I said some months ago, I studied the whole 'wow effect' for my thesis years ago for my Uni degree and I don't plan to go back at studying the phenomenon cause I just don't care about it anymore, to be honest.

I think sometimes people are just way too over protective of things they care about, like games, and when change occurs they react with panic and overprotection over something they can't control - people migrating over games, new influx of players, etc - instead of seeing the whole thing as something of a natural process all games and popular media are subject to. Like, imagine how bad things would be for every game or media if stuff NEVER changed. Especially for MMOS, that's a death sentence. And you don't want that for your favourite game. Even WOW suffering player loss might be a good thing in the end, it might force the companies to rethink their approach to games and community, since a lot of problems laid in there.

I played my fair share of WOW during my Uni years. I played for around 3 years or something, on and off with friends irl and online, and enjoyed my experience. Overall, I still have very good memories of fun and friendship in WOW, and it's a game I still like aesthetically a lot, along with its story and fantasy races. Hell, sometimes I think about how much I miss my WOW ocs, and drawing WOW related stuff.

But I don't think my relationship to WOW was as intense as some people's - I did transition from WOW to FFXIV, but I spent something like 2 years when I stopped playing WOW (I started in mists of pandaria, stopped around the beginning of battle for azeroth times) playing almost no videogames. So it wasn't like I switched from a game to the other immediately, I think mine was more of a timed and organic switch, I didn't start playing FFXIV until quarantine hit and I had nothing to do (and was feeling really bad and needed a distraction from the imminent doom), and I also got my new desktop computer knowing I could start playing a new game comfortably, and not on a toaster-like computer like I was doing during the WOW days. (computer shutting down due to overheating mid-raid, it was fun)

So maybe the fact that I didn't do the 180 turnaround switch like some other WOW players is what makes the difference in attitude and thinking. When I started playing FFXIV, I didn't have WOW fresh in my mind so I could do costant comparisons between the two games, or my affection towards WOW kinda like... influencing my taste, or opinion of the new game in any way.

WOW was a good memory but nothing more. I never forged a huge relationship with the game anyway, so it's probably what's different between me and other players that maybe (understandably) have more history with it. I engaged with it, liked it for a game I could spend some free time on, and then moved on when I got bored with it. That's kinda it. I understand that some people who have been playing for way more years than me might have a more affectionate memory or relationship with WOW, and that might be something that influences their reasoning sometimes. But it's also a bit of a common thing withing some communities like WOW- something that people could definitely abandon and move on, change attitude. Time and game change. There's no point in getting stuck in the past with the old WOW glory days, and that kind of sentiment- we're not getting back in time, and change should always be something to be embraced, especially in games and MMOS. Changing views, games and opinions is the base of not getting stuck in the same state of mind and I highly encourage people to do it.

As for the ‘critiquing WOW has become super extreme and almost like it’s a rule’... I mean... yeah? That’s the effect that often times ‘problematic’ things have on large crowds of people online. It’s to be expected, but it doesn’t come from nothing- a lot of bad things piled up in the game, the company, the community and their attitude- and it just so happened some things tipped the waters over and everything came out in a costant flow during the past year or so. But it doesn’t come from nothing- it’s just a result of people being genuinely critic of the game they engaged with, which is something good to do. 

So yeah, I appreciate the ask! I like hearing from people that follow other games too and may have experiences similar to mine, and I'm also grateful that you've been following me from so many years since I was playing WOW, to now.

That said... I would like to keep asks like these to a minimum. I enjoyed this ask because it gave me a point of inspiration to think about my journey from games, and the chance of talking about something I care about (and I would like to think I know something about too, degree and experience and all...), but I don't plan to respond to more comments or asks that might move towards a more 'discoursy' tone of this same "ffxiv and wow" topic. I do enjoy asks like these but you can't count on everyone making a good and civil argument when asking questions, so I do have to keep a firm hand on asks and topics sometimes, or people get rowdy and think my tumblr blog is the new reddit. It has already happened with some people coming to my askbox to complain about shit I genuinely couldn't care less about. That will just get your question deleted, go to reddit if you want to complain or fuel the flames. I'm just here to vibe.

[herakosmos]

@dreamyjaems: “hi babycakes!! i loved your “target headcannons” and it was so enjoyable to read! i was having a rough night, so reading it brought a huge smile on my face 🥰 so if you don’t mind, could you do the “target” headcannons but with goshiki and atsumu! thank you very much and i hope you have a lovely day! i look forward to reading more things from you and good luck on your blog! 💓”

hi bb! ty for the kind words🥺 im glad it made your night <33 you’re my first request, so im kinda nervous😭

im not too familiar w/ goshiki and atsumu, so i’m sorry if they’re ooc :((( i really hope you like it tho!

going to target w/ their s/o

{hcs for goshiki and atsumu}

goshiki

“BABE!!! i’ll go get your favorite cereal brand for you!”

✰ would run all the way across the store just for your favorite type of cereal LMAO

✰ when he comes back PLS praise him 🥺

“goshiki you’re so sweet how did you know?”

✰ stands proudly, chest out and smiles ear to ear

“well..i always see you eating this type of cereal in the morning!”

✰ he would probably get really flustered from pda, so don’t do it unless you’re ready for an overheated baby

✰ pushes the cart for you the moment you guys enter target and would insist to push it until the very end of the trip

✰ IF you’re feeling a little mean today, your hand would “accidentally” intertwine with his on the handle bar

✰ goshiki.exe has stopped working

“u-um y/n what are you doing?”

✰ HIS WHOLE FACE TURNS SO RED POOR BABY

“nothing, i just want to push the cart with you” :)

✰ tries to loosen up a bit, but his heart would be pounding so much that it’s the only thing he could hear <\3

✰ still tries to suck it up and look like it’s not making him sweat at all (even though it is)

✰ he’ll get anything and everything for you

✰ no matter what height you are, goshiki would still want to grab the items on the highest shelf just to impress you. he’ll put it in the cart so proudly knowing how cool that was of him

✰ sometimes it’ll either leave him with a proud smirk or a face of defeat when you aren’t looking HABQAHBSAHS

“did you see that y/n!?”

“huh? what do you mean baby?”

✰ you’ll leave him stunned and kinda hurt tbh

✰ this won’t stop him from trying though!!!

✰ i feel like goshiki would also want to check out the sports section. his eyes would automatically land on the children sports gear and turn soft. he would get MAJOR baby fever from the sight of it and immediately turn to you about it

“BAB-“

“i know what you’re thinking goshiki and nows not the right time to talk about it” 

“BUT”

“goshiki -.-”

“yes ma’am!”

✰ salutes you cutely and that leaves you in a giggling mess. he loves to do dorky actions just to make you laugh and he succeeds every time🙈

✰ probably thinks about what ushijima gets from each aisle you guys pass through. even though you always remind him he doesn’t need to BE like him in order to beat him lmao

✰ 100% pays for everything. he flexed his money and bought $100+ worth of junk food

✰ practically broke afterwards, but doesn’t really care because it was spent on you🥺🥺

✰ going back to the car, he’ll put you in the cart too with the grocery bags like kuroo, but would do it to only show off how strong he is haha

“baby are you sure this is fine?!”

✰ HE’LL BE GOING SO FAST SOMEONE SLOW HIS ASS DOWN 

“DON’T WORRY MY LOVE THIS IS NOTHING”

✰ he of course would start to load the car for you. maybe roll up his sleeves just a tad for you to see his ya’know 👉💪😼

✰ you’d be so grateful to have this little bean like??? he’s so sweet :(

✰ you of course had to do something in return. before goshiki could even say a word out of his mouth, you connected his lips with yours for a light peck. his eyes would be WIDE open while receiving it omg

✰ goshiki: 👁💋👁

“thank you for everything today goshiki….i love you”

✰ AWH CRAP GOSHIKI STOPPED WORKING AGAIN

✰ the kiss made him blush 10x more than from inside the store and starts to muster up a sentence to try and say how he wants another one

“m-maybe we c-could do that a-again?”

✰ of couse you would give another one for the cutie. this time he actually lets it last for at least 5 secs before letting you go

“i love you too baby...always!!”

atsumu

✰ you being his first ever long term s/o, going out to target with his partner was a first for him. atsumu honestly just came because he had nothing else to do...or at least that’s what he told you

✰ atsumu is a man of physical contact, so expect A LOT of pda. he honestly doesn’t give a fuck😭 he’s THAT ballsy to try anything in public

✰ he would be the type to put his arm around your waist while in the midst of choosing between two snacks. this little punk would slowly start to trail his hand lower...and lower....and low-

✰*SMACK*

✰ you smacked his hand off before he could do anything perverted😭 boy would be sorta pissed at either the fact you didn’t let him do what he wanted to do or because you slapped his hand wayy too hard and its turning red now JANXNC

✰ although atsumu can be protective, you can’t be protected from his jabs of teases and pranks lmao

✰ he would purposely take an item out of the cart and put it on a random shelf until you’ll notice something is missing 

✰ when he sees you getting all riled up or show some sort of irritation he can’t help but admire how cute you look all mad. doesn’t try to show any expression though and hides it with a smirk

✰ 100% only does it to get a reaction outta you😭

✰ drags guides the cart to the toy section and checks to see if they have any cool action figures (idk why but i feel like he would collect those kinda stuff)

✰ turns out there’s only those science toys

✰ (kuroo?👀)

“why is there only fucking science shit”

“HUN there’s children next to us don’t say that”

✰ looks at the children and then back at you with a lazy smirk

“ffffffuuckkk” says it in slow-motion 

✰ AHAHAHAHAHSHXHCHH

✰ omg you would just roll your eyes at his immaturity and leave him there with the clueless children 😭😭

“awww come on princess don’t be like that, i'm just teasing”

✰ another eye roll came from your face at how stupid he is, but can’t hold back a small giggle as well

✰ ah how he loves that adorable giggle of yours

✰ the sole reason for this target trip was to look for furniture and it was the LAST stop you guys took from this whole time

✰ atsumu would straight up lounge on a couch even though it would say do not sit on it’s only for display

✰ AGAIN mans does not give a flying fuck he does what he wants😎

✰ if an employee tries to tell him to get off his reply would be:

“if i wanna buy it, my ass needs to approve”

“babe! i don’t think there’s anything here that’s nice we should look somewhere else”

“ahh seems like my princess and my ass doesn’t seem to approve this leather couch of yours we’ll be writing reviews on yelp”

✰ hey, his baby didn’t find what they wanted 🤷‍♀️

✰ rumor has it the employee’s jaw is dropped to the ground till this day lmao

✰ once you reach the check-out area and pay for the junks you got, you put the groceries into the cart and atsumu squishes your face to stop you 

“babe, we’ll find you a pretty couch in no time”

✰ not gonna lie you were kinda bummed from not finding anything

“i know just what to do to make you happy again”

✰ debby ryan smirks 🌚🌚

✰ he immediately lets go of your face and starts jogging towards the lines of carts to get one for himself.

“lets race!”

✰ your face immediately lit up from the request of a pisshead (who wouldn’t want to wipe that smirk off of that handsome face🙃)

✰ you two both started to race each other on carts towards the car and you won. he probably would say he made you win on purpose just because you were a bit pouty

✰ laughter filled the air from how THIS was his way of cheering you up. it was so cute for him to “lose” for you 

“babe you’re such a loser” 

✰ your lips suddenly met his cheek for a light peck

✰ you thought it didn’t really faze him until he asked you to slap both of his cheeks till they turned red

✰ the only reason he told you to do that was to hide the fact his cheeks were burning from that tiny peck LMAO

taglist: (i’ll add more in the future!🥺)

@deadontheinsidebut @kat-writes-haikyuu @lovetsuki

want to request hcs or a matchup? here are the rules!

[rambling-at-midnight]

A Handmaiden’s Lies: Part 3

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Tom’s honestly shocked when you show up at the camp the next day. It’s quite impressive you were able to find your way back through the thick trees and brush. The girl with the white hair scowls as she trails after you, but you’re back to being a statue as you stride past bigger, bulkier men without batting an eye. They all watch you go with barely concealed resentment bubbling in their eyes. Tom made it clear that you were not to be touched, and nobody’s going to go against Tom, no matter how much a few of them might want to.

Tom won his position as leader fair and square, no matter how bloody. Nobody wants to be the next stain of red on his hands.

The sun is high in the sky and shade hard to find. Scarce a wind blows to challenge the heat. Tom pauses in sharpening his sword and lifts his sweaty curls off his forehead, relishing the feel of fresh air on the overheated skin.

Midday patrol was just sent out, though Tom doubts they’ll find anything. Only other rogues and bandits ever occupy the forests, and most parties know not to mess with Holland’s gang. The rest of his crew mills around the camp. He knows they’re murmuring, resentful he’d called off their crusade of destruction. He tries to keep the majority happy, but they also need to remember that he is leader and that what he says goes.

If they want to challenge him on it, they can.

You don’t gloat or anything when he catches your eye. Without a change of expression, you step over a pile of horse droppings smoothly. Tom appreciates the good grace of that while simultaneously cursing the poop boys for not staying on top of their work. Behind you, the blonde has less grace; her nose wrinkles at the sight of the mess.

You stride right up to Tom. At his side, Paddy tenses. Last night Tom’s inner circle was informed of the situation, and Paddy took it as well as could be expected.

“What do you do for fun?” you ask without preamble. Behind you, the girl rolls her eyes.

Tom blinks. “Pardon?”

“Fun,” you repeat slowly like he’s not right in the head. “What do you enjoy, apart from robbing civilians and destroying property?”

As if he can’t help himself, Paddy has to open his mouth: “Better question is what you do for fun. Watch paint dry?”

Your lip curls as you look at the younger boy. “I’m sure you meant for that to be a much more cutting insult.”

Paddy flushes.

“What I don’t do for fun is insult my friends and family,” Tom says pointedly. Your eyes slide to the ground before snapping up. “And to answer your question, I enjoy riding and dueling.”

Your eyes light up at the mention of dueling and it dawns on Tom that this is your olive branch. He’d nearly rejected it by telling you off but thankfully he’d saved himself.

“Duelling looks like a useful skill,” you say.

Tom nods.

“I was never allowed to learn. It’s considered improper.”

“Everyone should be taught how to defend themselves,” Tom says. “What if you have to protect the queen?”

The girl with the white-blonde hair clears her throat and you kick her. It’s such a moment of warm familiarity that Tom has to smile. “Sorry about Henrietta,” you smile. “She considers it improper as well.”

The girl, who must be Henrietta, casts her eyes to the sky. Tom can recognize the look of someone praying for patience; he’s seen Haz wear that expression often enough to have it memorized.

“Well, you should learn,” Tom informs you.

Henrietta laughs after a brief moment of awkward silence. Your eyes widen a little as you stare at Tom, obviously waiting for him to say something, but his mind is blank. What’s neutral territory here? If he changes the subject it’ll be obvious but not as awkward as the silence. Do you want to continue talking about duelling? Is there a coded message in your abrupt question and trailing sentences? Why are you making Tom’s head spin? He’s never been this nervous around girls before.

Paddy mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, “Dear Gods.” Then, louder, he says, “Y/N, would you like Tom to teach you how to duel?”

Tom’s eyes widen as you smile and nod—almost shyly? He hadn’t considered you would ever be bashful about anything. “Yes!” he exclaims. “Uh, Pads, take Henrietta to, uh… Zendaya. I’m sure they’ll get along great. And, Y/N, we can go… duel. Together. With swords,” he finishes stupidly, internally cringing but unable to stop himself.

“Mmm-hmm.” You clasp your hands in front of your body and follow Tom to the makeshift armory. Most camp members just carry their own weapons, so the armory doesn’t have a wide selection to choose from. They’re all spare weapons.

Tom picks up a thick sword about the length of his arm and tests it. It’s heavy—probably too heavy for someone that’s never wielded such a weapon in her life. Life in the castle tends to have such perks.

Tom stashes that sword and pulls out a slightly shorter and thinner sword. You should be able to wield it.

Tom unsheathes his own sword from his belt and demonstrates how to hold the weapon. You take his instructions easily and sometimes anticipate them. Your eyes may be untrained in duelling stances, but they’re still sharp, keen to focus on every little difference between Tom’s stance and yours.

You’re not good at duelling. Not at first. Tom can tell you don’t want to admit you’re struggling but the sword trembles when you hold it up. Your muscles obviously aren’t used to such exertion, which makes you slow. Tom suggests a break after a while and you seize the opportunity for a rest. You’re obviously not the type of person to admit to weakness.

After the break you return to practice with renewed vigor. You practice a basic parry in slow motion until you’ve got it and only then do you instruct Tom to speed up.

It takes hours (and a few more breaks) by the time you’re able to parry at a speed remotely close to the speed of duelling, but you look so pleased with yourself Tom can only applaud you.

He can see you applying that unholy determination to any skill in your life. Tom can’t imagine you’re incapable of doing whatever you set your mind on.

“Can all of your men duel like you?” you ask just as the sun begins to set. The trees are already casting long shadows on the ground.

Tom shakes his head. “The skill variety is wide. What swordsmen do reside in the camp are impressive as well, though none have trained as long as I have.”

“Do you not tire of not having a home?” you ask again, reminding Tom of those leading questions about duelling before. He narrows his eyes slightly, wondering where you’re going with this, but replies easily enough.

“I do have a home.” He looks to his tent.

“But a permanent one,” you press. “Your skills—all your men’s skills—are impressive. Surely there are positions for men such as you in the kingdom?”

“What, so eager for me to stay now, is that it?” Tom teases. There was no home for Tom when he was a child here. Why should now be any different?

“Become a soldier for the queen,” you urge.

Tom just stares at you.

“A war is coming,” you add. “The only thing more dangerous than being a group of rogues scant forty men with no allegiances travelling between kingdoms is being the leader of said group whose soulmate is influential in a castle. Your group cannot fight off Thanatoia alone. You’ll be slaughtered. Or worse—you’ll be tortured with the hope that I’ll give up valuable state secrets for you.”

“Yes, because you wouldn’t, would you?” Tom asks bitterly, sheathing his sword.

“I’m trying to protect you,” you snap back, eyes slits of anger. All traces of comradery brought on by sparring are gone.

Tom ponders the treeline until you sigh and dash the sword to the ground, perhaps petulantly. Without even a good-bye, you take your leave.

Tom doesn’t watch as you do.

~~~

He doesn’t sleep.

Is Tom really prepared to serve a kingdom that threw him away as a child? Is he prepared to take a final side in the budding conflict?

Is he prepared to be away from you for a whole year again—maybe longer, if war is declared; barricades can be constructed, hostages taken, innocents murdered.

Is he prepared to leave his men behind?

No, Tom decides in the morning, he’s not. He won’t leave his men. He also won’t leave you without the guarantee that he’ll see you again. If his men truly decide that they would rather wander than enlist, he’ll go with them, but not without you. He’ll kidnap you if he has to. Sure, you’re stubborn and loyal to the queen and you’ll probably hate him at first. But you’ll get over it, and even if you don’t, at least Tom will know that you’re safe.

~~~

“We’ve lived for years like this!” Anthony argues. “Thantoian troops won’t dare to find us in the woods in our own territory.”

“Deesee is neutral in this budding war!” a short, squat boy with a hundred pounds on Tom chimes in. Beady little eyes peer at his leader with resentment from underneath thick eyebrows and a protruding forehead. “Worst comes to worst and we could stay there. They’re not about to drive us out.”

“And hide from the fight like cowards?” Sam argues back.

“It’s not our fight to begin with!”

Tomas swears and spits on the ground, drawing his sword. The familiar shink of metal on metal has everyone backing away. Everyone except Tom. He clenches his jaw, hand resting on his own sword.

“What are you doing, Tomas?” Harrison asks cautiously, one hand held out as if it’ll help diffuse the situation.

“I’ve had enough of Holland’s pansy ass leading,” Tomas declares, leveling the point of his sword at Tom’s chest despite being a good ten feet away. “Fight me like a man, unless you’re too much of a bitch.”

Someone in the crowd laughs nervously.

“Are you sure about this, Tomas?” Tom asks slowly, drawing his own sword.

“‘Course I’m ready,” the other boy scoffs. “Ready to skewer you.”

“I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“Trust me,” Tomas laughs, “I won’t be the one getting hurt. And after this, I’ll take the bitch that suggested this stupid idea to my tent.” He leers.

Iron meets iron in a clang that makes a few people flinch. Tom’s eyes narrow at the other boy’s strength as he pushes against Tom’s sword. Tom takes a step back, testing the waters. As expected, Tomas follows him.

“You know what I’m going to do to your bitch, Tommy?” he taunts.

Criminals. Tom keeps the best of them in line, but a few dishonourable rogues find their way into every camp. He grits his teeth and smashes the hilt of his sword to Tomas’ hand, relishing the other boy’s grunt of pain. “I don’t imagine you’re going to do anything to anyone after this, Tomas.”

Tomas lunges, his sword missing Tom’s chest by a hair. Tom barely jumps to the side in time. Before Tomas can rebalance, his arm is gone from his shoulder.

The crowd sucks in a gasp. Tomas screams.

Tom doesn’t like to leave loose ends, so he runs him through with his sword.

“Would anyone else like to complain?” he asks, eyes blazing. Tomas is dead now, but his words—what he’d said about you—they run around his brain, echoing and echoing and he wishes he could kill Tomas all over again for even thinking them.

No one says a word.

~~~

You arrive at the camp a little past high noon. You march in with a scowl on your face, obviously ready to fight even if you don’t know how, but what you see stops you in your tracks. For a brief moment, pure shock flits over your face as you stumble and your fists unclench.

The whole camp is silent. Those who had quarreled during the discussion don’t dare to do more than glare after Tom had officially shut down the debate. Little more than ten tents remain erect. All the boys and girls with rolled-up tents sit on their packs, eyes glued to your form.

The winter had been harsh and they’d lost a few men to the cold, not to mention the worry about the upcoming war that had plagued the camp, but Tom hadn’t expected quite this many people to agree to work in the castle. Not a single camp girl refused the invitation. Only the bitter men, content to suffer only to spite the kingdom that threw them out, refused. Anthony, one of them, spit on the ground by Tom’s feet and called him a traitor. It stings.

In the middle of it all is a boy lying face down on the ground. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that he’s dead. You don’t balk at the sight or even doubletake. Your eyes seek out Tom’s and he almost wants to drop the gaze, expecting shame or disappointment, but you’re inscrutable as always.

He almost feels dirty when he remembers what Tomas had said about you. Those words will always be etched into his memory, much as he doesn’t want them to be. What would you say if you knew what one of his followers said about you? What would you do if you knew that some of the men you’re taking in might have been Tomas’ friend?

If you had been expecting more or fewer men, you don’t let it show. You don’t even hesitate before calling out, “In exchange for the queen’s protection, land, food, medicine, and all other services, will you agree to be a worker in her castle? Will you clean, cook, and fight without complaint?”

“Yes,” Tom says after that anticlimactic ending. He’d expected a few more words and you’d even hesitated at the end like you’d been searching for more to say.

Harrison takes his lead: “Yes.” Soon enough, everyone that has packed has agreed and you nod, satisfied.

“The queen will go hungry before you will,” you add. “All she requires is your loyalty.” And with that, you turn to go. Tom scrambles to catch up.

“The queen won’t really…” He trails off awkwardly. That’s simply not how royalty works.

You shoot him a glare out of the corner of your eye. “The queen is connected to her kingdom, Holland. You’ve just become a part of it. She protects her own.”

“But she wouldn’t starve to death to let a soldier eat,” Tom presses. “Not without leaving behind an heir. And she’s younger than me. There’ll be no heir for a long time.”

“She has a younger brother. He’s prepared to take the throne as well,” you point out.

Tom shakes his head. He thinks you’re exaggerating your queen’s greatness a little bit, but he has to trust you. Right?

“You forget the queen’s curse.”

Tom scoffs. “That magic myth? She’s connected to her kingdom or something?”

“Not a myth,” you say softly. “You also forget that nobles are representatives of the areas they govern. Whatever the majority of that area decides on, they must support or be replaced. Marvel is not as Deesee or Thanatoia.”

Tom has to admit he doesn’t know much about how Marvel is governed. He didn’t live in the kingdom long enough to learn. He’d just always assumed it was similar to its neighboring kingdoms. Of course, resentment had kept him from studying Marvel whenever he came to ransack and destroy.

Properly chastised, he closes his mouth.

You sigh dramatically at his side and reach into the pocket of your skirt. Out comes a delicate handkerchief.

Tom’s stunned when you take his face in your hands and wipe it gently. The handkerchief dips down to his neck before you retract, showing off the red smears on the once-white surface before shoving the ruined object back into your skirt.

You say nothing about the blood or the body, but Tom knows that you know what he did. He just doesn’t know how you feel about inviting a killer into your palace. He doesn’t know how you feel about your soulmate being a murderer.

You are frustratingly unreadable.

A Handmaiden’s Lies Taglist:

@andreasworlsboring101 @juliebean247​ @lisannehus​

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight@andreasworlsboring101​

Let me know what you all thought or if you’d like me to put you on a taglist!

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Biting Off More Than You Can Chew; part 11

Summary: Rus is coming into his own heat and he is not happy with this development.

Warning: Lemon! Lemony lemon, all the lemons, tasty citrus within!

Tags: heatfic, dubious consent, NSFW, frenemies to lovers, mates, first time, more if I think of them

PLEASE READ THE TAGS: This is a Heat story, so there are going to be issues of consent. I don’t do partner rape, nope, but hey, I want to be straight with y’all. I like heatfics personally, but I understand how they can be troubling for some people. So there it is.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Read Chapter 11 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Heat was a shitty description for the actual feeling of a biological imperative burning its way like a fevered infection through a Monster. The first coals igniting in the soul and working its way out into a forest fire to the ends of the limbs, provoking unbearable need along the way.

Control was foreign concept and even with Edge pliant beneath him, drawing Rus down and willingly spreading his legs, Rus fought the urge to hold him down and keep him there. He wanted more, wanted to taste him, be inside him because he knew, deep in the lurking primal depths within that nothing else was going to stop that awful burning. He wanted, no, he needed it. Wants were no longer able to be obeyed.

Almost.

It took some fucking Herculean effort to pull away from the promise of relief, stumbling over his own feet to land on the floor in a skittering crab-crawl backwards from Edge.

Who sat up on the bed, his crimson eye lights burning through the darkness. A bed? Yeah, that’s right, they were in Edge’s room. Rus barely recalled having the sense to come here, leaving behind the cold safety of Underswap to follow the pull of his soul to his mate.

“Rus—" Edge began, carefully. He pushed up to his feet. He was in his pajamas, of course he was, it was the middle of the fucking night. The bite mark on his sternum was dark and shiny, the trickling marrow black in the dimness, and if Rus put his mouth back on it, his teeth would line up perfectly.

“don’t touch me!” Rus could still taste marrow painting his mouth, salt-bitter and sickening. He curled up against the wall, panting harshly. His fingers dug into the wall, paint gouging out beneath the tips. “keep back, don’t touch me!”

“It’s all right.” Edge probably even meant it. He’d been expecting this. Sure he had, he’d known this was coming for all the fucking good knowing did. He took another step closer and Rus hissed out a warning, one eye light guttering and the other going bright as a strobe.

“i said don’t touch me!!” Edge halted and Rus let go of the burgeoning attack, half-summoned bones sputtering out. It’d been hard to dredge up to begin with, his magic didn’t want to fight, oh, no, not at all, the only violence his soul was begging for was carnal. Rus let his skull fall with a muffled thunk against the carpet as he lay there, trying to breathe. “i know, i get it, we have to fuck until it’s over but just let me—give me a minute. and don’t fucking touch!”

The throb in his soul might think otherwise, but there was enough rationality left in Rus’s brain pan to form one coherent thought. He didn’t want this. Not heat or bonds or any of this shit. He wanted to be home, wanted to follow his own choice so he could be fucking any of the others from Muffet’s, wanted their come in his cunt or running salt-bitter down his throat. Not this, not the mindless burn in his soul deciding for him.

The wall Edge taught him to create around his thoughts was crumbling, falling brick by brick, letting him feel the concern Edge was radiating. All that worry/desire/concern/regret/worry coming at him in a bruising flurry and fuck Edge for wanting any part of this. Rus wasn’t alone in his body or his head, he hated this, hated it.

Behind him, Edge made a choked, hurt sound; must’ve let down his own mental brick wall, ‘cause he’d felt that, and Rus was resentfully glad of it. Let him hurt, this was his fault, his and his brother’s, all of it. If they’d stayed in their own Universe, kept all this heat bullshit to themselves—

“i hate this,” Rus groaned aloud. He tipped his head up to look at the ceiling, tasted repulsively sweet tears as they slid back in his skull to fall thickly on his tongue. He was shaking, bones rattling together as he forced himself to stay here, away from Edge. “i hate you.”

But it wasn’t enough to make this stop. The bitter pulse of emotion didn’t prevent what little desperate control he’d managed to claw up from finally giving way, didn’t keep him from crawling back to Edge as it ebbed. Who was unresisting even when Rus pulled him down to the floor, rolling him onto his knees. He went willingly, didn’t protest when Rus scrabbled at his soft pajama pants, yanking and pulling them down to bunch around his thighs. Any lingering dregs of patience were lost there, wisping away, because Edge’s pussy was already formed in the same rich crimson as his magic, glistening invitingly.

Edge grunted as Rus impulsively slid his thumbs down the slick lips. Wet, already wet, ready for a cock, and his hips gave an unwilling little jerk into Rus’s lingering touch.

That burning in Rus’s soul was spreading, clouding his vision, his mind. He couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t think of anything past having, taking. Rus jerked down his own pants, palming his aching cock as he shuffled awkwardly forward on his knees, whining at the feel of the first brush of hot, slick pussy against the head of his shaft as he lined up and pushed to the root in one hard thrust.

Edge hissed out a breath between clenched teeth, sharpened fingertips punching through the carpet and into the floor. Probably hurt all at once like that, and Rus didn’t give him a chance to adjust, couldn’t, he couldn’t, not when the clench of his cunt was so tight around him. He starting riding him immediately, pulling out and then back in, jabbing into him, using his hold on Edge’s iliac crests to haul him back into each one.

“you didn’t tell me it was like this,” Rus choked out. Moving helplessly with rising urgency, rocking them together in unrelenting rhythm.

Beneath him, Edge was breathing like he was dying, wasn’t fighting him, not at all, lax and willing, and over the rising sounds of their bodies crashing together, Rus heard him gasp out, “I tried!”

“didn’t tell me enough! fuck!” Rus shuddered, clawing at Edge’s rib cage, trying to hang on anywhere. It was impossible, they were both slippery with sweat, mingled honey-gold and crimson painting Edge’s bones. “you’re so fucking tight, i can’t!”

Edge made a low, guttural sound, flame-flicker of emotion licking over Rus’s soul. It was enough to make Rus slow. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t. But the heat ebbed enough for him to see through narrowed sockets. Taking in the quiver in Edge’s shoulders, his pain-tight expression, half his face buried into his folded arms. His own emotions were leaking through their bond like rainwater from a leaky gutter, but Edge was closed off, empty, giving nothing back, what the hell. Irrational anger flared alongside lust; it was a fucking bond, what was Edge hiding from him, he couldn’t be afraid, was never afraid, what wasn’t he showing?

Possibilities flittered through Rus’s mind, one standing out starkly.

“have you done this before?” Rus demanded. Wouldn’t make a difference, he couldn’t stop, every sentence punctuated with another ragged thrust, but he needed to know. “has anyone else ever fucked you? tell me, tell me!”

“No!” Edge snarled out. There, yes, hell yes, Edge was taking it, yeah, letting himself get fucked like a good boy, but the hot wash of his temper shot an arrow through their bond before it was choked off. His visible eye light was a blazing, crimson hellfire. “Only you!”

Fuck.

He’d never done this before. Rus suspected that from the start, from the first moment he’d braced himself to go into a room with Edge for a long night of mercy sex. Of course he’d been a virgin; Edge was younger that him, as young as Blue was, Red had told him there was no one to trust in this world, and Rus never even asked, not before, not now.

“fuck,” he whined out. He ducked down, his forehead clattering against Edge’s spine, smearing sweat. Hips still moving, driving on because the tight clasp of pussy was sucking him in, the need to come delirious, implacable. “i can’t stop!”

“I know.” Barest prickle of emotion, not anger this time, unnamed and unfamiliar as it soothed over the rawness in his soul, “It’s okay, Rus, I know.”

It wasn’t okay, wasn’t even on the same planet as okay, in the same universe.

“don’t let me hurt you,” Rus pleaded. He managed to work a hand around Edge’s hip, down between his legs. Feeling at the damp folds for the hard nub hidden within. He knew he found it when Edge sucked in a hard breath, shuddering out a cry as Rus circled it with a slippery fingertip, feeling it swell eagerly beneath his touch.

“You aren’t,” Edge moaned, and Rus moaned with him, feeling that vibrating shudder from the inside. “Oh!!”

Fuck, the sounds he was making, deep and urgent, desperately gorgeous, Edge was gorgeous. Gasping out Rus’s name pleadingly as he pistoned into him, short and hard and brutal. Rus wasn’t gonna last much longer, not this time, probably not the next, ecstasy overtaking him.

Rus came hard, feeling the liquid bloom of heat surrounding his cock deep inside, but it wasn’t like any orgasm he’d ever had. The euphoric pleasure engulfed him in a cooling wash over his overheated soul, soothing away a fraction of that burn as he choked out in a relieved sob and slumped to lay heavily across Edge’s back. He grunted disagreeably, but took Rus’s weight, braced against the floor.

With a grunt of his own, Rus pulled out, hissing at the cool air on his wet, overheated pseudoflesh. Edge’s pussy didn’t seem real happy about letting him go, desperate shivers wracking him as he teetered on the ledge of orgasm that Rus didn’t let him fall over. It wouldn’t be good enough, not even close. He’d barely started liking it, Rus wasn’t letting Edge get off with an unsatisfying little throb of a climax.

He kept a hand on Edge, petting his spine warningly. Stay put, that hand meant, and Edge did even though Rus could see his pussy clenching emptily, a thin, obscene trickle of his own come dribbling down the slit.

That burning heat was nowhere near gone, only banked back for the moment, enough for him to get a good look at what he was working with. Last time, Edge was the one in control, everything was what he wanted. This time Rus let his gaze rove over Edge voraciously, taking in the sights.

So many scars, on his femurs, slashed across his ribs, gouged into his skull. Even marring his fingers, his usual gloves were missing and his cracked phalanges clenched into fists. Broken, healed, broken again when Edge came back for more.

Except his pelvis. It was relatively intact, only a couple small scarred cracks. His pelvic cradle glowed crimson with his magic, the transparency clouded within from being filled with Rus’s come. His sacrum was untouched, a smooth plane of bone with delicate holes marching down the length.

A sudden flood of soft fluid filled Rus’s mouth. Yeah, he needed to taste that.

He ducked his head, licking briefly at the delicate nub of his coccyx. Used broad, flat strokes of tongue to work his way higher, riding out the lurch of Edge’s hips as he jerked in surprise. Following the path to that tempting sacrum and forcing the eager tip of his tongue into the first little hole.

Edge squealed out a startled cry, satisfyingly shrill, oh, fuck, yes. Rus wanted to hear that again. The tang of magic was heavy on his tongue, they were both sweat-soaked, and Rus lapped their mingled taste from quaking bones. Edge’s trembling legs gave out, spilling him to the floor and Rus followed him down, giving each hole his full attention, tracing them over and over again with his tongue in teasing little patterns until Edge was quivering, moaning desperately, his hips pushing back against Rus’s mouth in a silent plea for more.

Yeah, more, he could do more. Rus drew away, licking away the smears of spicy sweetness from his teeth as he crawled back on top, lining up and pushing back inside with a shaky groan. This time Edge’s pussy was welcomingly drenched, clenching around him in a tight ripple as Edge choked out a moan and finally came, desperate cries leaking through his clenched teeth.

“yeah, that’s it,” Rus panted, forcing his way deeper through every wild, clenching throb of the passage surrounding him, “gonna do that again for me, gonna do that a lot, baby, fuck, yes.”

Fuck, yes, that was all Rus wanted. Wanted to fuck him, claim him, see his ripe belly swell which makes no fucking sense since Edge couldn’t get pregnant any more than he could. He still wanted it, the idea standing out in his mind’s eye and he barely realized he was pinning Edge down by the wrists, covering him with his own body from shoulder to knees. He wasn’t stronger than Edge, except somehow he was, long bones straining in his grip. Testing him with minute struggles and Rus shuddered, holding on.

“don’t fight me,” Rus growled warningly, and his soul felt like it might burst when Edge laughed, fucking laughed.

“Try and stop me,” Edge said, gaspy with laughter and need, and Rus burned.

Later, he couldn’t have said how they ended up on the bed, sense blurring into desperation. The only thing Rus knew was the frustrating, endless wildfire to have Edge in ways he could hardly fathom. Braced against the headboard, one knee jerked up high to allow Rus deeper inside. Held up against the wall with his slim legs braced on Rus’s hips, bouncing along with every vicious thrust. On his back, his femurs spread wide and Rus was torn between fucking him and burying his face into those swollen, dripping folds, lapping at their combined fluids, pushing his tongue in almost as deep as his cock until Edge was begging, clawing at his skull and leaving behind stinging scratches and the pain was the only way Rus realized he’d actually done it.

Everything was colored with the frenzy of need driving him, until he was weak with exhaustion, aching deep in his bones and magical ligaments strained. The relentless burning in his soul hadn’t let up, still demanding more, and Rus sobbed dryly, bitterly.

“enough,” Rus pleaded. His voice was reducing to a low rasp, words fighting out of his throat. “no more. please.”

He didn’t know if he was begging Edge or his soul. He couldn't move anymore, couldn't fuck, he couldn't, too exhausted, his mouth desert dry, desire blending into agony. He was filthy with sweat and come, they both were, the sheets beneath them dappled with heavy smears of crimson and orange.

The mouth suddenly against his own was tender, soothing, and Rus only sobbed into it, kissing back through the brief sticky flood of his tears dampening his dry mouth, even as Edge pushed him to lay on his back.

“Shhh, I know,” Edge crooned. His weight was more than Rus could fight against, holding him down as Edge straddled him, but the tenderness he exercised was almost worse. “I’m so sorry.” Edge was wobbly as a newborn gyftrot as he sank down and another wet, bubbling sob escaped Rus as Edge winced, riding Rus gingerly, “Not much longer, you can do this.”

“i can’t,” Rus heaved out, even as his hips tried to rise, chasing that slick, soft pussy. The heat around him hurt as much as it pleasured, searing his aching pseudoflesh. “please, i’m so sore, no more.”

Edge only pet his rib cage and didn’t slow, rolling his hips in a careful rhythm, “Let me help you,” Edge whispered, “it's all right, I have you. Let me take care of you this time.”

“i need you.” Low and guttural, all the desperation in his soul bursting out in three words. Rus didn't mean to say it, he didn’t mean for anything of this.

But his soul soared as Edge whispered back, raspy-sweet, "You have me. I'm yours. No one else's, only yours.”

Orgasm was less a pleasure than a relief, a brief, unsatisfying throb coupled with a bare spurt of come and when his soul began to pulse again, Rus let out a bitter, tear-laced groan. It took three more times before he could finally collapse, three more times of Edge crooning to him, petting him with disconcerting tenderness, cajoling and urging coaxingly until Rus could only give in.

The sheets were uncomfortably damp beneath him, but Rus could’ve sooner walked through the shield with a suitcase in one hand and cigarette in the other than he could have moved. Turned out, he didn’t need to. Rus only mumbled out a disagreeable sound as he lifted, the sound gently shushed and soon he was beneath a cooling rush of gorgeous water spraying down on him. Rus lifted his face into it, mouth opened like a baby bird as he drank greedily.

“Easy, you’ll make yourself sick.” Whispered against the side of his skull, fingertips on his chin turning his head away. Disgruntled as he was, Rus obeyed that touch, even as a distant sense of gratifying pride swelled in his soul. His mate was taking care of him, washing him gently, a soapy cloth easing his aching soreness. Soon he was lifted again, wrapped in a fluffy, warm towel and carried back to the bed. He must’ve drowsed off, waking briefly as he was settled onto clean sheets that smelled of nothing more than strong laundry detergent.

“edge?” Rus mumbled, reaching out, searching. His soul cramped in dismay as he found nothing within reach and he struggled to open his sockets, an unhappy whimper escaping him.

“Shhh, I’m here.” The bed creaked with added weight, a bare, slim body settling between the sheets, pulling Rus into his arms. Rus sighed in weary contentment, cuddling up against him as best as he could.

There was a certain warmth glowing in his soul, not heat, no, it was something…something else, Rus wasn’t sure, wasn’t even sure if it was his own. Edge might’ve spoken, crooned more of that soothing his way, Rus couldn’t tell. He was wrapped up in that warmth and Rus let it encompass him like a mental blanket, drawing him with tender implacableness into sleep.

tbc

[capricornus-rex]

A Test of Wills (3)

Requested by Anon. Prompt:

What about...Cal x reader fic, getting stuck on Jakku because the Mantis needs repairs?

Cal Kestis x Reader

1 | 2 | 4 | Masterlist

3 of ?

You blended into the crowd of buyers and traders, walking through the small maze of tents as you exchange ideas. Looking through scraps and parts for sale as you speak.

Cal noticed that you were awfully quiet, speaking discreetly or with hidden contexts, your eyes dart back and forth to any shady guy that you spot within the premises. Even the uniformed peacekeepers didn’t put you to ease because you’re still a potential target to them—if you cause enough trouble.

“So our only option is to play rough,” you deduced.

Cal shrugged, “Perhaps that’s the only way they know how,”

“Hey, I don’t like it as much as you do but what other choice do we have?”

“You’re right. Haven’t seen anything passable to use for the Mantis,”

“What have you gotten so far?”

“Just a single power cell,”

Cal fished out his comlink and reported to Cere. He didn’t really prefer being the bearer of bad news, but he turns out to be one in certain circumstances—including this current one.

“Looks like we’ll be staying here for a while if we want to get out of here as soon as we can,”

“We managed to get some power cells, but just one each though,”

Cere sighed first, the unimpressed tone somehow made you tuck your neck between your shoulders—as if hearing your mother call your name after she found out what you’ve done. Still, you anticipated for an actual reply.

“I don’t know what you’re going to do next, but please, try not to do something reckless,” she pleaded.

“We really can’t promise that, Cere,” you replied with your teeth clenched, sarcastic yet genuinely uncertain—given the next best option that you have spells reckless all over it.

Your conversation was cut short until a female voice called out your name.

“[y/n]?”

Both you and Cal turned to the source of the voice, it simply came out of nowhere before a Togruta with apricot-colored skin appeared. Ecstatic was the best word for the expression on her face as she sees you. You examined her from head to toe: the length of her lekku dropped until her knees but she kept them tied together with a strip, the gold has tarnished from her headpiece, two cuts scarred her cheek and disturbed her face tattoo, and a necklace with a small red pendant resting above her breast.

“You recognize her?” Cal asks you in an almost-whisper.

You took one step closer to this Togruta who seems to know you.

“Rani?”

“[Y/N]!”

The Togruta’s smile stretched from ear to ear as soon as she hears you say her name. Your memory still serves. She comes running up to you for a hug.

“It’s so nice to see a familiar face here!” she beamed.

“What are you doing here?”

“Was about to ask you the same!”

You turn to Cal, “Cal, this is Rani—an old friend of mine. Rani, Cal—my boyfriend.”

“Hi there,” he extended his hand to Rani to which she gives a friendly shake.

“Hi, pleasure to meet you.”

Then she taps you on the stomach to get your attention, Rani throws off a teasing look on her face at you.

“What?”

“Didn’t take you to be the romantic type,” she joked.

You rolled your eyes, “Oh come on, Ra-Ra, you know I’m dateable. This shouldn’t come off as a surprise!”

The niceties and small talk had to end right then and there. Then Rani’s bubbly personality suddenly dissolved and she mirrored your wariness about this place. She beckoned you to follow her.

“I know a place away from that Blobfish’s eyes and ears. Your ship not too far away from here?”

“It’s in the outskirts, a bit far from this outpost,” you replied.

“That’s okay,”

The three of you hopped onto the landspeeder and she drove you to a small town. It took thirty minutes for you to get there. Indeed, the town was small—with only a few stone buildings in view, some of which appeared to be shabby but you bit your tongue to avoid offending any locals.

“Where are we, Rani?”

“Cratertown. You probably have noticed Unkar’s thugs got their eyes glued on you two lovebirds. Don’t worry, [y/n], they won’t get to us here,”

You followed her into one of the cottages. You’ve entered a small cantina—the tiniest you have ever been to so far—and the number of patrons was a modest dozen and a few more. Rani greeted the bartender and got a seat for the three of you at the corner of the cantina for privacy’s sake.

“How did you and [y/n] come to know each other?” Cal initiates the conversation.

Rani’s eyes widened in surprise before she answered.

“Ah! She hasn’t told you about me?” She turned her head to you and kept up with her bubbly tone. “Rude, [y/n]!”

You had no chance to react, Rani had already gone with the telling the story to Cal. She tells him that you met each other in Nar Shaddaa—two and a half years after the Jedi Purge—she didn’t realize you were a Jedi because you never exposed your powers or lightsaber at all. She only knew you as a ship mechanic.

“So then, what brought you here to Jakku?” she said before chugging her cup.

“Ship repairs. We lack the parts and fuel for it. It’s a luxury yacht with some overheated power cells and a cooked hyperspace compressor,”

“Do you know about Plutt’s little shindigs he makes every other night?”

Cal cuts in to answer, “Yeah, a vendor told me about it—but not in full detail. Even Plutt didn’t mention what kind of event he had in mind, he just said it’ll happen tomorrow night. The vendor just said that it’s our best chance to get the stuff we need.”

“Huh,” she scoffed. “You know one of those events is fight night. Illegal but he managed to bribe the constables to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear—because there’s a lot of cheering going on in there.”

“Fight night?”

You shift in your seat as Rani explained fight night to Cal—how it was a usual thing in Underworld and syndicate operations, Jakku doesn’t fall far from the tree when it comes to being one of its participants. Bad memories that you have repressed deep within yourself suddenly escaped the vault in your mind like some Pandora’s Box.

Rani’s chatter didn’t come through your ears, it was all just white noise. In the middle of her sentences, you could hear the sound of the crowd and the growls of your angered opponents, the flashing spotlights, and the ringing of a makeshift bell after every match.

“Man, you should’ve seen her in the ring! She packs a mean punch,”

“[y/n] was a fighter?”

Cal’s surprised reaction warranted Rani to stop talking. Her excited smile that she had while retelling your past lifestyle instantaneously melted away. She cleared her throat and excused herself.

“Well, I guess I’ll just get another drink,”

She leaves the table and heads on to the bar, leaving you and Cal alone.

“You were a fighter?” he repeats.

He wasn’t angry at you that you didn’t tell him about this part of your life. You simply tell him that it was a part of your life that you weren’t the most proud of.

“I wanted to earn more credits, enough to send me out of Nar Shaddaa—it was a nightmare back there. I don’t think I have enough digits in my hands to add it to the list of the horrible places I’ve been to in my whole life.”

“How did you get out of there?”

“I got rescued. Some rebel fighters that went on a raid, broke us out. Rani wasn’t lying when she said I was a mechanic, but it paid so little because not many were coming to the hub to get repairs. I’d like to think I was good, but not good enough. But in the ring, they keep telling me I was good…”

“Because you used the combat techniques taught to us when we were still Padawans,” Cal cuts in.

“The reason why I wasn’t proud of it—why I repressed memories of it within me. I was ashamed. I felt like I dishonored the Jedi Council—my master, too—because of where I used my skills,”

“You used them to survive, [y/n]; and survive, you did—that’s what matters,” Cal insisted.

“In a way I only know how that time. It’s where I got this scar too,”

You pulled down the collar of your shirt, revealing a scar that trailed from the left side of your neck to your collarbone and then ends at your shoulder. It came from a fight against a Devaronian, his claws were filed sharp enough to weaponize it.

“I was bleeding out, I still fought… but I almost died. But somehow, I still feel it in me after all these years. The memories may be locked away in the cracks of my mind, but I guess I can’t fight off my own fighting spirit.”

“I suppose not,”

“You’re not mad at me for not telling this sooner?”

“It was a bad experience, [y/n]. I understand that you needed some time before opening up. I guess that time is today,”

You did not speak, his arm slithered around your waist and secretly pulled you closer to him. He puts his arm on your shoulder and gazes at you tenderly.

“You and I have been through hard times before we got back together, [y/n]. That’s not hard for me to understand,”

“I know. Still, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,”

He mouthed “It’s okay” before planting a kiss on your head—his lips pressed hard on your temple for a long time before he pulled away.

[sweetiepie08]

Rebel Z Chapter 3

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall​

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know. 

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. 

[-]

Tak activated her Vortian disguise before she even entered the solar system. When dealing with the Meekrob, an Irken could never be too careful, especially after Tenn’s disappearance. Word around the stars was that her life signal suddenly went out one day. No one knew what happened. Apparently, the Tallest hadn’t received ant worrying reports. Her last transmission was a routine observation update. She wasn’t making any risky plans and she didn’t have a near-discovery. She was there one minute and gone the next. Soon afterward, the Meekrob put out a warning declaring that any Irken caught within their planet’s range would be killed on sight. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who was responsible for her disappearance.

It was a shame, really. Tak was a few levels ahead of Tenn in training, but she heard good things. Any invader assigned to Meekrob must be talented. They were, after all, Irk’s most formidable enemies. Safe to assume they had done her in. It was a tragedy that someone so young and bright had been cut down in her prime, but life as an invader was fraught with peril, at least so long as the enemy was intelligent.

Finally, they approached the planet Refirencee and, after going through a check point, she docked her ship in a public hanger. Before exiting her ship, she looked at MiMi. An information retrieval unit would be especially advantageous on this mission, but the engineering was too obviously Irken. “MiMi, cat disguise.” MiMi saluted and her holo-cloaking devise activated. Tak looked her over an nodded her approval. They were lucky an Urth cat looked so similar to a Vortian jelicle.

Satisfied with their cover, they hopped out of their ship and headed for the transport bay. There, they found a digital sign displayed the departure times for bullet trains which took the planet’s patrons to different sections of the massive data base. The trains were broken down by planet and the one for the Irken information section left in only a few minutes.

As they waited for their train, Tak noticed a few patrons looking at her. She tried to keep her eyes on the track before her and ignored their stares as she felt a light pounding in her chest.

One of the patrons approached her. “Um, excuse me,” he said, eyes turning to MiMi.

Tak shot him a glare. “What?”

“I’m not sure they allow pets.”

“She’s an emotional support jelicle,” Tak said. A spark flashed across her eyes and the patron’s face went blank for a second.

“Right,” he answered, almost robotically. “Sorry I bothered you.”

The train arrived and Tak and MiMi boarded. They took a seat and the train took off at break-neck speed. They arrived at the Irken section in a matter of minutes. She stepped off the train to find her self in a large, domed building, surrounded by towers of data cartridges. Sorting droids buzzed about, arranging cartridges to their rightful places. In the center of it all, a librarian sat at a large, circular information desk.

“Excuse me,” Tak said, approaching the desk. “Where can I find information on the cyber age?” It would be a good start. The invention of the PAK kicked off the era.

“That will be section 8792,” the librarian answered. “I’ll call you a browsing cart.”

The librarian pushed a button and a cart zipped up to the desk. It was just a flat, hovering rectangle with a handrail and a control board at the front. Tak and MiMi hopped on and she entered the section number into the control panel.

“By the way,” Tak said, turning to the librarian, “forget I was here.” The spark flashed across her eyes again and the Librarian’s face went blank. Tak hit the start button and her cart zipped off. She arrived at her destination within seconds.

“MiMi, find a data console about PAK invention,” Tak ordered as they stepped off the cart. MiMi saluted and slinked through the aisles. While she waited, Tak sat down at a computer desk. In a few minutes, MiMi returned with a data console marked “Irken Cyber Age Vol. 1”. Tak took and plug it into the computer. She scrolled through the text, skimming over most of it. The information mainly consisted of things any smeet would know. After the control brains were built, they gave the scientists the idea to build the PAKs. These PAKs efficiently distributed Irken knowledge and ushered in a glorious new age of blah, blah, blah…

Yes, every Irken alive knew their basic history. But what about the PAKs themselves? How were they built? How did they work? Tak was beginning to wonder if this was a waste of time. After all, the key to PAK mechanics was Irk’s most guarded secret. She shouldn’t expect to find that information here. In fact, she should be glad that knowledge hadn’t fallen into enemy hands.

She continued to scroll and a picture caught her eye. It showed the five engineers in charge of the PAK project. The face of one particular engineer kept glitching in and out. He was decently tall. Not tall enough to be considered for the upper echelons of tallness, but a good height none the less. His round, purple eyes caught hers and she studied his uneasy grin. The names of each engineer were listed in the caption and one name, Krislotch, glitched in time with the face. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Someone wanted her to pay attention to this guy.

Was it even Krislotch himself? Very well, you have my attention. Now what do you want. She scrolled down a bit further and noticed individual letters glitching as well. A message perhaps? Hidden in the page? What are you trying to tell me, Krislotch?

“MiMi, my tablet.”

MiMi reached into her head and took out a small, metal canister. Tak unfolded it into tablet mode and took out a stylus. She wrote down each letter in order.

A COMPLETE HISTORY OF IRKEN INDUSTRY VOL 13. CHAP 78.

Now this was interesting. It seemed Krislotch left her a little crumb trail. Where it led, she could only guess, but she simply had to follow. She ordered MiMi to find the volume mentioned. When the SIR unit returned, she plugged it into the computer and jumped straight to the designated chapter. Reading through it, she found it was about a factory disaster which resulted in a great number of deaths. Apparently, some worker named Mia, somehow, caused a back up of materials at her station. The machine couldn’t put out new materials, overheated, and caught fire. For some reason, the sprinkler system was disabled, and the fire only spread. Fifty-seven workers, including Mia, died in the accident.

As Tak read the page, she spotted two full sentences glitching. The first gave the number of those dead and the other showed the date. She wasn’t sure why the number of dead was important, but even a smeet a few minutes old knew the significance of the date. This disaster took place exactly 0.1 cycles before Installation Day, the day all Irkens were given their PAKs.

More letters glitched. Put together, they led to a console called “The Irken Cyber Age: a Complete History vol. 1.” They also directed her to a page which, once she read it, confirmed her suspicions. Krislotch did, in fact, want her to know the disaster occurred 0.1 cycles before Installation day. But apart from that, what was the connection?

Yet again, more letter glitched. She’d picked up the trail. Glitching letters led her to a console of Irken History, itself with more glitching letters leading her to the next clue. As she read on, a clear pattern began to emerge. Since the introduction of the PAKs, every major historical event was preceded by a deadly disaster by exactly 0.1 cycles. The historical events mainly revolved around Irken galactic conquest: military campaigns, invasion launches, and the like. The disasters varied widely, but they all had a few things in common. They were all caused by an Irken who then died in the disaster, and they all left fifty-seven dead. Even the names of the Irkens who caused them were similar: Mia, Mib, Mic, Mid, Mie…

The trail stopped before reaching more recent events. The final set of glitching letters gave her the title “An Observatory Study of the Final Days of Ecore,” as well as the coordinates to the console’s location, which rested in a completely different part of Refirencee. She’d waste no time getting there, but something nagged at her.

There must be some current events which fell into the pattern, she thought. Things I would remember. Operation Impending Doom was the obvious answer. It was the most recent invasion launch, but she couldn’t think of any major disasters that preceded it. Then again, the launch date had to be delayed due to… Wait… Was that it? How many died that day? And how long after did Impending Doom II launch? She had to check to be sure.

“MiMi, find information on the original Operation Impending Doom.”

MiMi swept off and quickly returned with a new data console. A quick look confirmed her suspicions. Fifty-seven dead in a rampage caused by disgraced Invader Zim. Impending Doom II launched exactly 0.1 cycles later. It was a close fit, but it wasn’t’ perfect. Zim was alive, for one thing, while the other disaster causers died. Another was the name. It didn’t fit the pattern, unless…

Tak slapped her palm to her forehead. Was the idiot such a complete incompetent that he got his own assigned name wrong?

Surely more answers would be found in the next console.

She and MiMi rode the cart to the closest train station and took the next train to a section called Dead Planets. Once there, they took another cart to the location designated by the glitching letters. As they approached, they found they weren’t looking for a data console at all. The coordinates Tak punched into the cart took them to a section deep in the library. The shelves surrounding them held actual, physical books. Judging by the layers of dust, they were the first lifeforms to enter these aisles in a long time.

They made it to the correct shelf and Tak ordered MiMi to locate the book. The robot found it in matter of seconds and brought it to her. Tak brushed off the cover and opened the book. A small, plastic square fell out and landed on the floor with a clack. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. It was a data storage device not used in ages. This was old technology, ancient even, but whatever was on it must be important. She pocketed it and sat down on the floor to read. As the book wasn’t in Irken, she couldn’t read it without assistance. She tapped the implant on the side of her head and a universal translator monocle popped out, covering her eye. She began to read.

A Note to the Reader

When I began this journey, I had no intention of chronicling the final days of Ecore. It began as an anthropological study to discern what made this once-thriving civilization drop out of contact with the greater solar system. I set up a hidden shelter on the outskirts of Ecorien society and observed from the outside. My discoveries explain, not only the degradation of Ecorien culture, but the death of the planet itself.

Tak poured through the book, wondering what this weak, primitive culture possibly had to do with Irk. The anthropologist wrote about the Ecorien’s devotion to, what he called, “the Many-Eyed God.” Apparently, this new theology was a sharp deviation from known Ecorien culture. In the past, the Ecoriens revered their planet’s natural resources and energy. This new god was completely unheard of.

He also went on to describe the people’s changed appearance. They looked thin and sickly, and aged rapidly. They’d go to their god for supposed cures, but they didn’t seem to do any good. The people never got better from what plagued them, no matter how devotedly they followed their god.

The most fascinating part was a barbaric ritual referred to as a “blood toll.” When the Ecoriens asked their god for a large favor, such as a bountiful harvest or a cure for a plague, the god would order a blood toll. They brought fifty-seven young, healthy Ecoriens before their god and slaughtered them.

Fifty-seven… Fifty-seven Irkens… Fifty-seven Ecoriens… Was this what Krislotch wanted me to see? She read on.

Soon, she reached the final days of Ecore. An uprising broke out among the younger generations of Ecoriens. The blood toll sacrificed many of them and the elders asked the Many-Eyed God for more and more favors as the species grew weaker. The youths fought back against the elders, refusing to be sacrificed. However, the history of blood tolls had greatly reduced their numbers. Relatively few were young enough to be prime candidates for sacrifice, but old enough to fight. The elders overpowered them. The Many-Eyed God ordered the mass slaughter of the younger generations, promising to restore youth and health to the elders.

Youths died by the thousands, from young adults, to children, to infants. At the end of the bloodbath, the Many-Eyed God detached itself from the planet’s core. It drifted into space, leaving the Ecoriens with nothing but the blood on their hands. With the younger generations wiped out, they were doomed to extinction.

Tak turned the page in horrified awe. The last days of this planet were truly a massacre. The Ecoriens, tricked by this god, turned on their own. Their own god used them, sucked them dry, and abandoned them when they had nothing left to give. This wasn’t just the death of a planet. This was the murder of one.

What this massacre had to do with Irk and PAKs, she still couldn’t say, but the number fifty-seven stuck out in her mind. Fifty-seven died in the Irken disasters. Fifty-seven slaughtered in the Ecorien blood tolls. The connection was obvious, but what it meant escaped her. The Irkens had no gods, not for a few millennia at least. They thrived on science, technology, and conquest. It was said, even before the cyber age, that the Irkens bowed to no laws, but made their own. Nothing calling itself a god could gain this kind of influence on Irk.

But when she turned the page, her vail of denial evaporated. She dropped the book in shock. MiMi swept up to her and peered over Tak’s shoulder. The book lay open on the floor, displaying a two-page spread of images of the Many-Eyed God. Some were sketches. Some were photos taken at a distance. All displayed the same familiar entity. She’d looked into these eyes. This “god” encoded her as an elite trainee. She begged this “god” for the opportunity to prove her worth. This “god” denied her and banished her to Dirt, a husk of wasted potential.

The Control Brain and the Many-Eyed God were one and the same.

She stared down at the book as the truth stared back at her. This thing, whatever it was, had wormed its way into Irken society. It controlled them, fed off them. They even had their own blood toll of sorts. In the end, the Ecoriens withered away to nothing. They were sucked dry and left to rot. It was only a matter of time before the same happened to Irk. This thing, the Control Brain, has to be stopped.

The number 10:00 appeared in the corner of her vision and began ticking down. 9:59… 9:58… “My life clock!” How? Why? Her PAK was still attached. It shouldn’t… Wait, the Control Brain. Her PAK emitted a constant stream of information to the Control Brain and she just had a rebellious thought. There was no time to waste.

“MiMi,” she commanded. Almost as an afterthought, she realized her holo-disguise had gone out. “Take me to the ship. Top speed.”

MiMi stretched out her arms, wrapping them around Tak, and propulsion jets burst from her feet. She flew them out of the library, across the planet, and to the parking bay at such a speed, the world became a nauseating blur. By the time they arrived back at the ship, she had less than 8:00 minutes to save herself.

She plugged her PAK into the ship. “Computer, life-supports error check, immediately.”

After a few seconds of scanning, her computer answered. “Life support systems completely shut down.”

Her insides dropped. “Search for the cause.”

A few more seconds of scanning passed. “Systems shut down after a command initiated by the Control Brain remote feedback program.”

It was as she suspected. “Suggested solutions?”

“Remove feedback chip and manually restart system.”

She felt her guts twist and her body broke into a sweat. Remove feedback chip? Every Irken alive knew it was treason to disconnect from the Control Brain. She’d be an outlaw, a traitor. Returning to Irken-controlled space would be a death sentence for her. But I’m going to die right now if I don’t.

She had no choice. If even thinking about saving her planet from this… this… parasite made her a traitor, then traitor she was. She pulled the plug from her PAK and removed it from her back. She had only a few minutes before her organic brain turned to mush.

She opened a compartment of tools and then opened a panel on her PAK. With a set of tweezers, she located the feedback chip and, with a tug, marked herself traitor. Using a shocking fork, she restarted the life support systems. She turned around, the PAK reattached, and her life clock disappeared. Already, she could feel her body reinvigorating, but the weight of what she’d just done fell heavy on her.

Right now, the Armada was receiving an automated notification that Tak, the deserter janitor, had gone traitor. Orders would be issued for her capture or killing. Every Irken in the military would know her face. She could never go back.

And she couldn’t linger here. She and MiMi made quite the scene with their exit. People would come after them. Anyone who managed to get a look as they flew past could clearly see she was Irken. They had to get far, far away from Irk and far, far away from here.

She powered up the engines and flew the ship out of the parking bay, still unsure of where to go. Anywhere in Irken-controlled space was out and word that an Irken was spotted on a Meekrobian-protected planet would soon spread. She had to go somewhere remote, a planet uncharted and ignored by most of the known universe, a place the Tallest would never willingly go.

She let out a roaring, agonized groan as her mind landed on the perfect answer. It was both the safest place in the universe to hide and the last place she wanted to be, especially in this state. Still, she had no choice.

“Computer,” she growled, pinching the bridge between her eyes. “Set coordinates to Urth.”

[kissjun]

restrained — part 2

masterlist | part 1 | part 3

a/n | sorry it took so long to finish this part!! the next one wont take as long i promise<33

—

A deafening electronic beep sounded from the intercom that she laid painfully close to, forcing her to pry her eyes open from the heavy sleep that consumed her. The irritating noise slipped through the fingers covering her ears, the blanket, and even the pillow; everything she tried to use to shield the noise from her precious ears seemed invisible. Frustrated, she sat up with a groan. She held her throbbing head as she glanced at the clock. 8:03 AM.

She blinked. How did she end up on her bed? As hard as she tried to think, it was almost impossible to focus with the noise blasting from the ceiling.

Mark was already up, brushing his teeth at the small sink in the corner of their room. He seemed used to the routine already; which didn't really come as a surprise to her. She wondered how long he'd been there.

After climbing down from her bed, she returned her hands to her ears, looking to Mark desperately. “Does it ever stop?”

“Two minutes,” he stated through the foam of toothpaste in his mouth.

The following two minutes were absolute hell. But, once it was over, she finally managed to shake off a bit of the headache that lingered from the moment she woke up. In fact, she didn't feel refreshed in the slightest. She didn't understand how she had gotten a full eleven hours of sleep—but still felt like shit.

She tried to backtrack the night before: the doors locked like Renjun had told her they would. She was curious and got out of bed to see if the door really wouldn't open—and it wouldn't. Then Lucas came. She couldn't recall the conversation, but she honestly didn't think it mattered. Then . . . she fell asleep on the floor. But how did she get back on her bed?  Did Lucas move her? She wondered how in the world  he would manage to get her back on the top bunk.

She shook her head. He didn't seem like the type of person to care, given her first impression. He seemed like the type to stiffen at a single touch because it's 'too personal'. She almost scoffed. And she still didn't understand why he was being so secretive about his age. In all honesty, she shouldn't care so much. But she was curious, and it annoyed her that he was being stubborn over a stupid question.

“Why do you look like you're going through an internal midlife crisis?” Renjun eyed her curiously as they met up in the hall to head to breakfast.

“You have to be forty-five to go through a midlife crisis, dumbass,” Mark bopped Renjun on the head.

“Are you not seeing this?” Renjun jabbed a finger at her.

Jaemin threw an arm around her. “Relax, she's probably on her period or someth—“

She abruptly cut off his sentence with an elbow to the ribs, earning a holler of laughter from the two other boys. Renjun barely caught his breath. “I like this girl.”

Just before they reached the familiar staircase in the lobby, a guard carelessly shoved through the crowd. She would have been knocked over if Jaemin hadn't steadied her. Walking up the stairs, she glanced below her, noticing the guard wasn't alone—he and a second soldier were on either side of a young girl, who's sweatpants were rolled up thrice and her UCF t-shirt to her knees. They were taking her into the elevators. To the floors that were prohibited.

“We're not the only planet, let alone solar system, let alone galaxy! It's literally dumb to think we're the only form of life living out of billions of planets,” Renjun rambled as the four tumbled into the courtyards after breakfast.

Jaemin insisted on showing her the courtyards, given it was probably the only part of the facility that wasn't plastered with endless white walls and pristine glass. Although the courtyard was more or less just a simple rock garden, it was spacious enough—especially considering the fact that she and the boys were almost the only ones out there. Why everyone else would want to restrict themselves under the cold, white florescent lights for the entire day was beyond her, but she was glad that it wasn't crowded at least.

“Proof?” Mark raised his brows as everyone took a seat at one of the round, stone glass tables placed beside the mini waterfall that hid in the bushes.

“Scientific research and common sense?”

“What if they're, like, worms that crawl up your nose and infect your brain,” Jaemin grinned. “How's that for forms of life?”

“Gross,” Mark scrunched his nose.

“It's still a form of life, idiot, so I would be right and you would have a worm in your brain,” Renjun shrugged contently.

“Dude, he's getting desperate,” Jaemin whispered to her. She couldn't help but giggle.

“Listen,” she put a hand on Renjun's shoulder. “I believe in aliens, Renjun.”

“Suddenly she's my only friend,” he announced, Jaemin sticking out his tongue in response.

If it weren't for the rain that began to dribble from the sky after a few hours, she was sure they would've stayed out longer. It was the fresh air, she thought, that put everyone in a good mood. No one appreciated being crammed in one spot for too long. Especially not her.

“You wanna grab some lunch?” Jaemin asked, shaking the water from his bangs.

When everyone's growling stomachs agreed for them, the four of them headed up to the cafeteria, paying no mind the the damp clothes that stuck to their skin. As they took place in the bustling lunch line, her eyes found a familiar face. Lucas was standing off to the left side of the room, alert and stiff as every other soldier that patrolled the floor. Soldiers had always been spread across the perimeter of the floors since she'd arrived at the facility, but she had never noticed him there before. And the fact that the facility always felt the need to have even the cafeteria guarded and crawling with soldiers gave her an uncomfortable feeling.

“What about you?” Mark asked her as they sat at their usual table. “What was your life like before the breach?”

“Breach?” she raised an eyebrow.

“You don't know about the breach?” Jaemin asked. “It's what started the whole disease.”

“Really?” she asked. No one had ever informed her much about the details—their cable stopped working, so there was no news—and she knew her parents always felt the need to protect her from the smallest things. But, she thought, maybe if they didn't do that then, she wouldn't feel so weak now.

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “Some laboratory got bombed and I guess whatever chemicals they were brewing up inside got mixed up the wrong way. And here we are.”

Her jaw almost dropped. “Why would someone do that?”

“Maybe the scientists had different opinions on a project, or maybe some kind of discovery,” Renjun said. “And so they split up. What if they were doing something dangerous and the only way the others could stop it was by destroying the whole lab?”

“Talk about extra,” Jaemin piped in. “'Hey I don't like your idea for the science project so I'm gonna blow the entire science lab up'.”

Mark snorted. “Sounds like Renjun.”

“I like how you assume I'd be partners with either of you for a science project,” Renjun deadpanned.

“Anyways, back to the original question,” Jaemin leaned towards her, shining with interest. “Tell us about yourself!!”

“Um . . .” she wasn't sure where to start. “I didn't ever do anything cool, really. I went to school, had a few friends, went out sometimes. Nothing special. I'm an only child, so it was just me and my parents most of the time.”

“What were your parents like?” he wondered. Mark and Renjun immediately shot him a glare, and he quickly realized his mistake. “I—I mean you don't have to talk about them if you don't want to! I know things are hard for everyone right now . . .”

She couldn't manage to swallow the hard lump that had formed in her throat. 'Were' he said. What were her parents like. She wasn't sure if she had enough power to talk about her parents without choking up yet. She had never had to say anything about it before. She had no one to tell.

“It's—“

Before she could finish her sentence, a different—but also very deafening—alarm sounded from the intercom. Everyone stood from their seats, looking around as confusion glazed their faces.

“There's a fire on the third floor! Everyone head out front immediately!” one of the soldiers shouted above the commotion. “I repeat, head out front immediately!”

Exchanging worried glances with the boys, she did as she was told and followed the bustling crowd of panicking children towards the exit of the cafeteria. She caught sight of Lucas again, who seemed to be frantically discussing something with a few other soldiers. Did he know what happened?

She heard the static from a walkie talkie on a nearby soldier, followed by a frantic voice. “Sir, the patients are overheating—“

“Take them to the west wing,” he interrupted, murmuring into his walkie. “We'll figure out the rest later.”

When the person on the other line buzzed out, the soldier looked up—his icy eyes meeting hers. She continued walking, but felt frozen, as if she'd just got caught hearing something she wasn't supposed to hear.

“Come on,” Renjun tugged her arm, picking up the pace.

When everyone had finally made it outside, she noticed how many people there actually were at the facility—including the staff and soldiers. They almost filled up the entire damp, muddy field under the pouring rain. Everyone hugged themselves under the wetness of the raindrops; and a few kids screamed when it thundered. She enjoyed the rain, but it would've been less painful if it wasn't so cold.

“Clear!” Someone finally called from the entrance. They'd been standing there for about seven minutes, and Mark swore if he had to stand there another minute he would die from hypothermia.

“Finally,” Renjun mumbled to himself, shivering as he waddled back towards the warmth of the lobby.

Murmurs of everyone gossiping about what might have happened echoed through the lobby, trailing into the east wing all the way to the showers as everyone hurried to change out of their wet clothes.

“Ahh, gross,” Mark watched as his soaked socks trailed mud behind his every step—just like everyone else. “I can't stand wet socks. This is disgusting.”

Jaemin wiggled his toes. “Really? I think it has a nice feeling.”

Mark whacked him in the arm. “I hate you.”

“You could never,” Jaemin grinned as they continued their way back into the east wing.

She and Renjun followed closely behind, but she came to a halt when her eyes found Lucas again, who had began to mop up the slippery lobby floor. “I'll catch up,” she absentmindedly notified Renjun before making a beeline for where the soldier stood, busy cleaning up the water.

“Looks like someone was demoted from soldier to custodian,” she hummed as she approached him.

He glanced around, then looked back at her. “Real funny. Do you need something?”

“Well, no, I . . .” she paused. Why did she go over there? To finally get an answer to her question? To thank him for not letting her sleep on the floor the entire night? It was kind of weird when she thought about it.

“You know, you're not really subtle about staring,” he continued mopping up the puddle that sat by his heavy boots. “I can feel you looking at me every time we're in the same room. I'll just go ahead and break it to you—it's not going to happen. Quite frankly, you're not my type—“

“I'm sorry, what?” she gaped at him incredulously. She shook her head. “That's not—“

“Come on,” he almost scoffed. “The personal questions, the staring, following me everywhere. If you know what's good for you, just go slide in bed with your roomma—“

His words were cut off with a cold slap to the cheek. The sound echoed through the room, and she was partially thankful that everyone had already left the lobby. Who did he think he was? She wasn't even sure they would go as far as being friends, let alone anything else. She'd just wanted to know more about him; she was curious. And he made her out to be some desperate girl that wanted to get some. What a jerk.

“I wasn't trying to get in your pants, dickhead,” she fumed. “You look mad and lonely all the time, and you've payed me two favors so I . . .”

“I don't know what I was doing,” she deadpanned, pure irritation surging through her veins. “Now that I know what you're really like, I don't think I care anymore.”

With a hard glare, she turned back towards the east wing and nearly stomped the whole way to her room. When she pushed inside, Mark was relaxing on his bed, completely dry, but sat up when she entered.

“Whoa,” Mark looked her up and down. “What happened with you?'

“Nothing,” she huffed as she dropped to the bottom drawer of their dresser, fishing out a dry set of clothes to change into.

“It doesn't look like nothing,” he hummed cautiously.

She shook her head, forcing her voice to soften. “Really, don't worry about it.”

“Okay. . .” Mark drug out, eyeing her as he returned to his spot on his bed.

Letting out a relieved huff, she headed out to the bathrooms to change her clothes. She was glad Mark didn't ask any more questions—she really didn't feel like explaining the situation. Not because she didn't want to talk about it, but because she was starting to wonder if she really did look like the idiot.

Successfully making it to the bathrooms, she praised herself for not having another lost-in-the-maze episode. Immediately after pushing through the stall doors, she peeled the damp clothes off of her body, replacing them with the dry set she brought. She paid no mind to herself in the mirror, tossing the wet clothes on the overflowing laundry basket as she made her way out of the bathrooms.

As she stepped into the bright hall, she met a familiar set of sparkling eyes that were making their own way out of the men's bathroom. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Renjun met her in the middle of the hall, wearing his own fresh pair of clothes.

“That was weird,” she commented as they walked together. “What do you think happened?”

Renjun shrugged. “No idea. What I wanna know is what the hell they have on the third floor and how they managed to start a fire up there.”

Her mind flashed back to the soldier that passed her, and the voice through the walkie talkie. The patients are overheating, the voice said. Take them to the west wing, he had replied.

“Actually,” she said slowly. “I heard something earlier. When everyone was going outside. Someone was talking to one of the soldiers through the walkie talkie.”

“What did they say?”

“Something about patients overheating? And moving them to the west wing I think,” she recalled. “But it was kind of hectic back there.”

Renjun stared at her with wide eyes, filled with a mix or horror and relief. He came to a stop. “Really?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

His brows creased as his eyes scanned their surroundings. They were alone in the big, cold hall, but she assumed Renjun was one who believed someone could never be too careful.

“Did you hear anything else?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“So he's on the third floor—no, he's in the west wing now?” Renjun began to walk at an even slower pace.

“Chenle?” the name sounded hollow coming out her mouth, like it was a name that shouldn't be spoken.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “What do you think they mean by 'patients'?”

“I don't know,” she kept her eyes low. “Maybe they're sick.”

“Chenle wasn't sick,” Renjun frowned. “Anyone could tell that. He was almost too healthy. Too much energy, too bubbly, too . . . happy. But that was just Chenle.”

A gentle smile pushed onto her cheeks. “He sounds fun.”

“He was,” he grinned a little. “I miss him. But if you ever meet him, those words never came out of my mouth.”

She snorted. “Of course not.”

After a moment of silence, she wondered. “So . . . he just . . . randomly disappeared?”

“Well, not really,” Renjun explained. “That's what everyone else thinks, but I saw them take him out of his cell.”

“How did you even manage to skip the pill?” she asked. After thinking about it, her eyes widened. “You didn't make yourself puke it up did you?”

“No,” he almost laughed, shaking his head. “I put it between my gum and my cheek. I noticed they only really check under your tongue, so go figure. I only did it because I was tired of feeling like I never really got any sleep, you know? You take the pill and you're out for a split second, then you hear the alarms. You don't get time to relax, or fall asleep, or think about things, or be alone. I don't even have dreams anymore.”

She hummed, understanding everything Renjun was saying. She'd felt the same that morning; she didn't feel refreshed or like she had a good night's sleep either.

“But,” he continued. “Jaemin and Mark don't really care. They just take it like they're supposed to. Sometimes I think deep down I really am just paranoid about everything. I think maybe Mark and Jaemin are right . . . but when I think about the night I watched them take Chenle in his sleep and not bring him back . . .”

“That is weird,” she agreed. “But at least now we have an idea as to where he might be.”

Renjun slowly came to a halt, eyeing the ground in deep thought. “I wonder . . .”

She stood by him patiently, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. She didn't know Chenle, or much about him, but she could clearly tell he was important to Renjun. Even if he wasn't, the sole idea of grown adults taking an unconscious teenager from their room at night and never returning him made her feel icky. The fact that it was scaring Renjun made her feel worse.

“What if we could get into the west wing?” he looked at her.

“We?” she raised her eyebrows.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I meant me. What if I can get in there somehow? And look around, maybe? Even if I can just see him to see that he's okay.”

“But the doors are locked,” she reminded him. “And there's soldiers and doctors everywhere.”

“I just need a key card,” he thought. “Or maybe I can pretend there's something wrong with me and they'll take me for a checkup.”

“I thought you said the checkups aren't actual checkups? What if you disappear too?”

“It doesn't matter,” Renjun shook his head. “At least I'll know what they've been doing with Chenle.”

“Renjun, that's dangerous,” she frowned. “And if you're going, I'm going. So think of a way we can both get in, okay?”

Renjun looked at her for a moment. Pursing his lips, he nodded. “Okay, I'll think about it tonight. We can talk more about it tomorrow, but I wouldn't say anything around the others yet.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I won’t.”

They continued the remainder of the walk back to their rooms quietly, and when she entered her room, it was surprisingly empty. She assumed Mark went to bug Jaemin, but she wasn’t going to complain. After talking to Renjun, she had a lot to think about.

Why did she agree to sneak into the west wing? There was no telling what could happen if they were caught. But then again, she couldn't help herself. Not only did she feel like someone was being wronged, she was curious. If what was behind the doors wasn't so bad, why couldn't they go inside? Why was so much of the facility a secret?

She tried to imagine what Chenle looked like. She thought of someone happy and smiley. Someone that was so bright that they made people happy just by being in the room. That's what she imagined him to look like based off of what she had heard so far. A part of her wanted to help Renjun for Chenle. Another part wanted to help for Renjun. And the other part for herself. So she decided she would. She was going to help Renjun find Chenle.

But how, she wondered. There was no was they would both be sent into the west wing at the same time for being pretending to be sick, was there? Not when they had an entire separate medical clinic outside of the west wing. What about the key card? There was no way they could get close enough to a soldier to get a hold of their key card. Especially without them noticing. She hadn't even talked to a soldier since—

Her eyes widened. She did know a soldier; and he was their only way into the west wing. They needed Lucas.

—

masterlist | part 1 | part 3

[cloudynames]

Make Me Melt

hi everyone!! i dont have much to say other than i hope you enjoy this small fluff ;; it was inspired from that grade school visit with the nct members and,,, wooWEE jungwoo please work with babies challenge its for science i promise!! <3

Word Count: 2,400

Rating: E

Warnings: None

lets get it

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

A thick silence encompasses the room as you stared at the black haired boy, flipping through papers dramatically while scribbling notes on the side. Your throat dries up when you see a red dash erase a sentence and you feel the desperation of wanting to leave the dimly lit room. Shouldn’t interviewers finalize notes at the end when you’re not there? After all, it is common practice.

With a shaky voice, “Ah, Mr. Kim, should I go?” Implying about the red thick line, tapping your fingers upon the table like a drum roll.

“It’s Doyoung. And you can stay.”

Halfway already out of you seat, you slump yourself against the chair once more, irritated. This interview is already past the end time and although you don’t have much to do, Doyoung has this intimidating presence surrounding him. He takes his job seriously and it’s inspiring but as a possible future employee, it scared the hell out of you.

Doyoung must’ve had a sixth sense (or he noticed you yawning louder than before) because he soon set down his pen and grabbed a black folder from below his seat. He slides you the folder and pen, quickly drilling through everything you need to sign for. With a spinning, discombobulated head, you marked everything you needed to, thankful to leave the tiny, claustrophobic room.

Who knew being interviewed at a daycare would be the most stressful moment of your life?

A whirlwind of emotions overtook you the next week, an hour before work started. Doyoung had you sit down with Jungwoo, the other owner of the small daycare. He left quickly, wanting to make some coffee for all three of you but leaving you with Jungwoo.

Jungwoo stared mindlessly, a smile adorned on his face. He was decorated in a pale baby pink long sleeve, a dark contrast from Doyoung’s black shirt.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t present at the interview last week. I had some private matters that needed to be taken care of.” He suddenly confesses, his tone soft, almost like he feared he would break you if he spoke even a decibel higher.

“It’s no problem.” You reply, the once awkward atmosphere melting with the small talk.

“Really? I’m surprised Doyoung didn’t tear you to bits. He tends to do that when I’m not around.” He chuckles lightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Uh, yeah. He nearly did.’

You want to declare but you hold yourself back, wanting to make a good impression on your new employers. Instead, you give him a wide grin and continue, “No, he wasn’t that bad.”

Just as the two of you were starting to talk about where the other studied for university, Doyoung arrives carrying three hot cups of coffee which you hurriedly take two from his red hands.

“No need to rush to help Doyoung, he’s icy enough that he doesn’t feel anything.” Jungwoo teases and Doyoung clicks his tongue in annoyance. The two of them begin to tease each other merciless but with no ill intent at all.

Staring at the boys with a gaping mouth, you wonder how the two of them work so well together. Doyoung is definitely more stubborn and strict while Jungwoo seemed so carefree and playful. These two were the exact polar opposites yet they portrayed an attitude of getting along so well.

“Anyway, as we were going to continue, because you’re a newbie we won’t be piling as much work on you until you get the flow of things.”

You nod and your ears perk up at the ring of the bell above the door where a mother and her daughter come tumbling in. Mimicking Jungwoo and Doyoung’s actions, you bow respectfully and beam at pair.

“Mrs. Lee! So good to see you. How’s your husband by the way?” Jungwoo fires away into conversation while Doyoung kneels down and points at you to the young girl. She whispers something in Doyoung’s ear and soon she comes up and introduces herself.

“Hi, I’m Shin-Ae!” She holds out her hand and you giggle, shaking it.

“Hi, Shin-Ae. I’m (y/n)! You don’t have to use formalities with me.”

She giggles in response and reveals, “You’re really pretty, (y/n)!”

Flustered and nervously laughing, you shake your head no wildly. How embarrassing! Especially on the first day of work.

“She’s not wrong.” Jungwoo replies, smirking at how your face heats up even more.

Before you have a chance to question him, he dashes into the backroom to make a snack for Shin-Ae and the other children who would be arriving shortly. Biting your tongue, you roll your eyes. So Jungwoo is a flirt and he’s your employer? This first day would be just fantastic.

But thank god Jungwoo made all those snacks because you underestimated just how many children would show up at the daycare. With twelve energetic kids, each caretaker had to watch over four kids. Doyoung laid out this plan before the day had started but nobody had listened. Most of the children were fascinated with you, the newest addition to their familiar daycare.

“What’s your favorite color?” A tall boy asks, staying close to you while coloring in a book.

“I like blue a lot.” You reply sweetly, braiding the hair of the girl who was currently seated in your lap.

“What about your favorite animal?” Another boy questions, playing with dinosaur figures.

“Puppies are cutest!”

A few boys groan, expecting a cooler answer more suited to their tastes while the others squeal over the mention of a puppy.

Disrupted from the sudden noise, Jungwoo glances over to you and realizes just how many kids were surrounding you. He glimpses at his tiny group, only containing two others excluding himself while Doyoung was focusing all his attention on one of the quieter kids. Jungwoo excuses himself for a second but not forgetting to promise that he’ll be back.

He gently taps you on the shoulder and you twirl around, smiling brightly from hearing an amusing joke from one of the children.

“Do you need me to take a few?”

You shake your head and turn back around, returning to the comfortable debate between knights or soldiers.

Confused, Jungwoo walks back over to his table but pays more attention to your group than before. You were astonishing, attending to each kid no matter how quiet or loud they were being. Changing your voice to firm to dim in a split second, you addressed every problem presented to you. Whether a cut or a sour mood, you handled everything with grace and ease.

A natural with children.

And Jungwoo could swear he felt his heart do flips while watching you settle everyone down for nap time.

Yeah, he might’ve spent an inappropriate amount of time watching.

“(Y/N), huh?” Doyoung’s voice knocks Jungwoo out of his lovestruck state and Jungwoo almost drops his water bottle.

“W-What do you mean?”

“They’re amazing.”

A sigh escapes Jungwoo, longingly, “Yeah. They are.”

Doyoung stirs his coffee, the second one of the day. “They’re a natural, I won’t deny it. I get why you’re staring.”

Jungwoo blushes, a sweat breaking out on his skin. “I’m just a-assessing them!” He stutters, his tone accusing.

“Sure, Jungwoo. Anyone can tell when you’re head over heels dude.” With that, Doyoung exits and goes to take his shift and watch the children.

Jungwoo is totally smitten for you.

—————------------

Doyoung immediately hired you after that day without consulting Jungwoo. Jungwoo whined, saying that he is also apart of the hiring process but he would’ve said nothing different from what Doyoung concluded. The children (and Jungwoo) loved you immensely. It would break their hearts not to see you the next day.

You were an officially established daycare worker and every day made you enjoy your job even more. Rarely did it ever feel like a job which you were thankful for. You’re reminded it’s a job whenever you saw Jungwoo, however.

Romance in the workplace was strictly prohibited in companies but in a daycare? There are no such rules for that. Lingering glances and fleeting touches confirmed Jungwoo’s attraction to you. You weren’t bothered by it at all however. Jungwoo was sweet, consistently complimenting your appearance and helping you clean up after the day. Not to mention, he was very attractive. His hazelnut brown eyes and smooth skin had you feeling overheated at times like a popsicle on a summer day. He made you melt and you accepted every advance with open arms, hoping he’d stir up more mischief.

The troublemaker of the day wasn’t Jungwoo one autumn day but actually a young boy named Minhyuk. As curious as a cat, he would question everything in the great, big world but whine if he didn’t receive enough attention. His questions ranged from, “Why is the sky blue?” to even as daring as, “Who do you like more (y/n)? Mr. Jungwoo or Mr. Doyoung?”

Pausing and letting out a choked sound, you stop buttering the bread you were just holding to face the young boy when two just as shocked faces were staring as well. With Jungwoo and Doyoung involved now, there was no way to escape this situation. Minhyuk wasn’t quiet either and soon the other children were bouncing around you, asking who you liked better. Every time you would brush it off, laughing or asking the same question to the child. Yet Doyoung was getting annoyed quickly and as nap time was nearing soon, the children were more energetic than before.

“(Y/N)!” Doyoung harshly whispers into your ear, keeping an eye on a few of the kids who were playing with the kitchen set. “Please just answer their question! I’m sick of hearing the same question over and over.”

You chuckle anxiously and take a peek at Jungwoo who was reading a story, all while smiling and resembling a prince too much. If Jungwoo notices your true feelings, where would things go from there? You consider your options, ultimately deciding to bite the bullet.

“Everyone, come here!” You announce and soon the children come waddling over, similar to ducklings.

“Now, I know everyone has been asking me so politely about who I like better and I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I think I like Jungwoo over Doyoung because he’s much sweeter. He’s also very charming.” You say with a sing-song voice.

Jungwoo gapes at you from the corner he was situated in and could barely help both Doyoung and you settle the kids down for naptime. His heart was beating erratically, so confused but curious about why you picked him.

As soon as all the children were snoring quietly, Jungwoo rushed to the break room and told Doyoung he would take his break first. He almost bumped into you, blushing furiously from the hazardous circumstance. Jungwoo gazed down at your disheveled appearance and how your hands were shaking while carrying a mug full of coffee.

“Here, let me take it,” Jungwoo starts, attempting to grab the cup away from you but failing miserably as you jump back nearly five feet. He opens his mouth, startled from your actions. There were so many things he wanted to say to you but as his mouth remained open, nothing came out.

You laugh, your tone anxious and with a more steady hand, you place the mug on a table besides you. Turning to Jungwoo and taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry.”

With a raised eyebrow from Jungwoo, “What for?”

“I know I probably made you uncomfortable earlier with me choosing you over Doyoung and I swear I didn’t mean anything more from it! I needed to satisfy the children or they would’ve never let the subject drop.” You lie through your teeth and stare at the floor, heel digging into the carpet as a way to comfort yourself. Your heart definitely desired more, unfortunately. It didn’t feel right, especially with a coworker and boss of yours. This workplace romance has gotten out of hand and had you bargaining for more. All you wanted was to keep your emotions hidden and continue working with Jungwoo because that truly made you satisfied. Seeing Jungwoo everyday genuinely enjoying his job caused you greater contentment than anything ever before. But would your heart truly be fine if you pushed away this opportunity?

“Oh,” Jungwoo visibly bites his tongue before taking a deep inhale, “I’m sorry then. I guess I misunderstood the situation.”

He bids you a small goodbye and is already halfway out the door when you grab his hand, pulling him back into the break room. Swallowing your pride, “No, Jungwoo. You didn’t misread the situation at all. You were completely right, actually.”

Jungwoo’s face breaks out into a grin and he engulfs you into a hug, burying his head into your shoulder. Awkwardly placing your hands around him, you return the gesture with gratitude. Your body and mind are in complete shock but your heart immediately fills with delightment. You had never been so thankful for a rowdy boy named Minhyuk.

Jungwoo breaks away first and his face is simply radiating, his eyes twinkling. You resist the urge to plant a kiss on his lips in that moment and you’re thankful you did because Doyoung barges into the room not a second later.

“Hey! It’s been over twenty minutes and I want my break—“ Doyoung starts to complain but shuts up upon gazing at your flushed face and Jungwoo’s ecstatic expression.

“Ah, never mind. Just one of you come out within the next five minutes.” Doyoung mutters, closing the door and resuming to monitor the children.

“I’ll go first.” You state, snatching your cup of coffee from the table once more.

Jungwoo’s expression falters and he waves a small goodbye to you. He glances away momentarily, only for a soft kiss to be placed upon his pink cheek. Letting out a small gasp, he whirls around to find you, only to discover that you were long gone and Doyoung was entering the room once again, grumbling about how unfair the breaks were today.

Jungwoo reaches up and touches the place where you kissed him, smiling softly.

He was sure to repay the deed later.

(Later meant in the next fifteen minutes and a stolen kiss from your lips)

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

“Ew! I saw (Y/N) and Mr. Jungwoo hold hands under the desk!” “Minhyuk! Stop being so nosy!”

[j-k-notrowling]

Untitled

Hi there! Spoilers up front: this is a gratuitously long-winded “thank you,” not an Ask (also I’m 31 and don’t know how to Social Media so apologies if this is the wrong page/tab/link/widget).

--(oh actually it’s a blog post now because of course I can’t send an “Ask” this stupidly long see? wasn’t kidding about that Social Media thing...)--

I started writing my first book in the Fall of 2016. Before that I’d only written songs. One day I got an idea which didn’t fit within the usual rhymes or rhythms. I tried and tried, but kept on hitting a wall. In addition, I was fed up with the whole “business” of music—the fragile egos, the politics of being in a band, all that. One morning I sat down at my HP desktop computer (again...31) and opened up a blank Word document. I stared at it with murderous intent for a long time, but nothing happened. So I grabbed the nearest book off the shelf (Crash by J.G. Ballard), opened it, and began to type out the first paragraph, copying the sentences line by line. I wanted to see what it felt like — my clumsy fingers pecking at the keyboard, observing how the words fell into place with a musical cadence and tempo almost prophetic, as though the ink were destined to dry in this exact form upon the page, the machinery of its tumultuous birth and impeccable design skillfully concealed. I paused and looked out the window. There was a squirrel on the deck, I remember. And then I saw it. Not outside but inside my own head, behind my eyelids. The song, the one I’d been struggling to write, I saw that it could be a story. I saw it had a clear beginning, middle, and end. I saw a world of characters opening doors to other worlds, other stories, other characters. This was life-changing shit. Suddenly I was a little boy at my first baseball game, drinking my first ice-cold Coke, surrounded by old men chain-smoking Marlboro Reds and muttering dirty words I’d never heard before about the [EXPLETIVES DELETED] on the opposing team. I’d discovered a fire fueled by the psychic anarchy of its own discovery, a Moebius-strip of dramatic invention, a repository for all the pop-cultural turds floating around inside the cracked porcelain toilet bowl of my skull. I wrote prose every night after work. I never thought about what I was doing. I never once stopped to check word counts or page counts. I never thought about sticking to an outline, making sure my story adhered to a specific plot structure, none of that. I wrote like a man in love. Delirious, overheated teenage love. Wear-my-ill-fitting-letterman’s-jacket love (is this also A Thing™️ in Canada?). Stupid stupid stupid love, naive and hormonal and precious and retrospectively mortifying. I’d turn off the world, turn on the music, sit back and watch the words sashay straight into my lap. It took 2-3 months before the ruthless scourge known as Self Doubt farted in my private elevator. Am I doing this right? How many words are in a book, anyway? How many pages? How long is this going to take? Is this an effective way to impress women and/or get laid? Am I writing a novel or a novella? The fuck is “flash fiction”? Are you allowed to write actual books in Microsoft Word? Does it matter that my free trial version of Microsoft Word expires in 30 days? They’re bluffing, right? And so on. I compared my own writing with that of authors I admired; subsequently, I couldn’t get out of bed for a week. I watched 40+ hours of “Kitchen Nightmares” reruns (it’s. the. same. fucking. formula. every. single. episode.) and nursed my shame with bowl after bowl of strawberry ice cream. To think — I’d TOLD people about this fool’s errand, and sooner or later I’d have to show them precisely how awful a writer I was... I turned to the Internet for advice. At first, it seemed like a godsend. There was such a litany of knowledge, so many pro-tips and life hacks and proven formulas for success. This was how I stumbled across your channel. I found other channels which offered more straightforward “DO IT LIKE THIS YOU FUCKING IDIOT” instructions, but I still enjoyed yours the most. I lol-ed at your jokes. I remember a few videos where you spoke highly about All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, which remains among the most achingly beautiful books I’ve ever read. Also you’re Canadian, and you guys just generally Human better than we (Americans) Human. ...and here my troubles began. See, the more I tried to adhere to word count goals, the more I tried to properly organize the scenes on my Scrivener™️ virtual cork board, the less I enjoyed the actual process of writing. So I tried other things, based upon other writers’ suggestions: cut the adverbs, write in the morning, write at night, write during your lunch break, write an outline, stick to the outline, write x amount of pages per day, write x number of hours per day, spend x amount of hours drafting and x amount of hours editing, etc. But nothing I tried made me feel confident in my writing. I started actively hating it, to be honest. I dreaded the cursor and the infinite white void. Then I would watch more writing videos and feel guilty about my lack of ambition, my inability to accomplish simple tasks. It’s only a few thousand words, dude — just get in there and do it. Eventually I would. I’d grumble and feel miserable and stay locked in my little writing dungeon all night, ignoring my friends’ texts and phone calls, and the next day I’d hate everything I wrote, trash it, and start over. Then, when I had no more writing left to hate, I started hating myself. The words in my head turned malignant, putrefied into spongy, black tumors. I’d spend all day at work consumed by thoughts and ideas and goals! goals! goals! for my book, then I’d come home and stare at a blinking cursor and wonder why I was such a worthless failure. I couldn’t write the way these other writers did, no matter what I tried. But I still wanted to write. Needed to, in that yearning, terrible way I suspect you understand. I don’t know why The Internet subconsciously invites us to flay ourselves before total strangers, but it does. So I will. Shit got Dark™️, Shaelin. I gained 50 pounds, started living like a hoarder, stopped hanging out with my friends, stopped leaving the house altogether. I kept the curtains closed so my neighbors wouldn’t see the piles of empty take-out boxes stacked up on the kitchen table. I traded the pleasures and contradictions and beguiling enigmas of women for the 24-hour neon distraction of cheap porno. My cat Maggie, basically the only friend I had during this time, got cancer. I watched her suffer and waste away because I couldn’t bear the thought of putting her to sleep and coming home alone to an empty, filthy house. Eventually she died and I hated myself even more for not being able to save her. I wore the same pair of pants for six months. I’d go to work and sit at my desk all day and do absolutely nothing (I was the accounting manager at a small company, technically my own “boss,” so I got away with this for a shocking, frankly heroic amount of time). Then I simply stopped going to work. And I kept torturing myself with those stupid goals and word counts, never happy with the end result, resigned to feel like a failure every day. I remember watching your “Spill the Tea” video back when it was initially posted. Watching it now is eerie, because you describe exactly what I was going through, what I was feeling. Like, to the “T” (see what I did there? #WordPlay #LitPuns101). I’d never experienced anxiety/depression before, so I didn’t really understand what was happening to me. Not that it mattered, because by that point the damage was done. I couldn’t recognize and isolate the real problem. I’d given up. Even though you said a lot of things in that video I desperately, desperately needed to hear, I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen to you, because you were one of Them™️. Your eyes were bright and your voice sounded friendly and encouraging, but your name wasn’t McCarthy or Pynchon or DeLillo or Nabokov. You were just a kid. What could you possibly know that I didn’t? In January of this year I called a local psychiatric hospital and told them I was planning to kill myself. I never harbored any true intentions of doing that, but I figured they’d offer me a nice three-week vacation in a padded cell. Considering the circumstances, it honestly seemed like a relief. I ended up quitting my job, selling my house, and moving back in with my parents 300 miles away. I started seeing a therapist once a week (still do, for the record). So far I’ve lost 30 pounds of the 50 pound surplus I acquired. I kept watching your videos, even though I was no longer in the market for writing advice (#JustHereForTheSnark). You kept me lol-ing through some bad days and weeks and months. I’d listen to you talk about problems with the writing community and nod my head like an old woman in church (#ShaelinSermons™️ #SheTeachesANDShePreaches), but I still hadn’t made the connection with my own issues. I swore off writing completely, went back to playing music. Cover songs in coffee shops and family restaurants. It was fun for awhile. I genuinely felt happier. But my story was still an old pebble poking around in my shoe...calling out, issuing playground taunts, drawing hairy cartoon dicks on my forehead while I slept. About a month ago I stared down another blank page, my first since experiencing that fun-sized nervous breakdown earlier this year. I closed my eyes and heard your voice in my head. “You can do whatever you want.” I had no goals, no arbitrary quotas to meet. I wrote a few lines, stopped, fixed a couple things I wasn’t satisfied with, and then went on with my day. I thought about what I’d written, sure, but I didn’t worry or spend the whole day stressing out. The next morning I read over what I’d done, and I didn’t hate it. I thought it was actually pretty good, funny and off-kilter and a little/lotta fucked up. So I sat down and wrote some more. Took some things out, re-worded stuff, dressed up the bones in silver and pearls. Addition and subtraction. Before I knew it, I’d finished a whole page. Then another. And then the hair on the back of my neck stood up, because I remembered: This is how it felt at the beginning. Back when I was young and love-struck and writing only to catch those moments of pure levitation, that devilish tickle, that rush of blood propelled by my own wild heart. It’s been a rough road, but I finally found what I’d lost. I figured out how to write again and enjoy it. And ultimately, the best writing advice I received didn’t come from McCarthy or Pynchon or DeLillo or Nabokov. It came from a young woman in another country with a camera and a nose ring and a big tapestry and bigger dreams which run parallel to my own. So thank you. Thank you for taking time out of your busy life and braving the Steaming Pile™️ that is The Internet to offer words of empathy and encouragement to complete strangers. Thank you for the wisdom you share. Thank you for being who you are. Know that tonight the stars shine brighter as a result. They do for me, at least. (Also I’m sincerely sorry about the absurd length of this “Ask” wherein no actual questions were posed and nothing substantial was communicated beyond a simple yet torturously delayed “thank you” kthxbye #longlivethenewtapestry 

—Justin)