#every building was connected somehow)

[dredshirtroberts]

it is not slacking off to write or create it is not slacking off to do things that are fun i am not slacking off or procrastinating right now i'm allowed to do things i enjoy doing for fun including playing games and writing and such

[4giorno]

and yes im replaying my otc (one true character) again 1. because of the clown make up but 2. bc when i looked at astarion in a thumbnail of a yt video recommendation i thought 'i dont even know you anymore'

[shrenvents]

Spellbound

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, cunnilingus, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader

Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.

Word count: 2.7k

...

Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.

She was his newest fascination.

He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.

He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”

“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.

Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...

Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...

Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.

“Where are we headed this time darling?”

“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.

“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”

“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus went quiet. You watched as his expression goes blank, before he acts as though he was in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”

“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.

“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”

“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”

The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”

He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.

“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”

After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.

That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.

Like any other day, your conscious is eating away at you, as you call upon another ancestor of those he plagues. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours, as you questioned his late brother through the veil.

“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes dart to yours, and his angry appearance softens. Instinctively, he grips your forearm and drags you out of the motel room.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.

Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, let your guard down, and close your eyes. Such an urge that has only worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together…

“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."

Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”

After five minutes alone in a booth, you gather up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, heading back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you think. But you can’t help it.

When you enter the room, the door slowly creaks shut, and shadows engulf you. It’s too quiet, and you can’t see the hostage. Unease fills your system, and you begin to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off, when the captive grabs your torso, roughly caging your arms. His grip is inescapable, and when you try to scream, his free hand covers your mouth.

“You fucking bitch,” he murmurs with disgust, and you wince. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackles with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggle against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.

He muffles Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears prick your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.

The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carry you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.

His figure then disappears just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.

After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'

“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”

You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you, I’d probably be dead by now.”

“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”

“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”

“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.

“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You start to laugh too.

“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voices, airily. "I gave you my word.”

“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”

You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”

“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.

“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”

You freeze, heart dropping.

“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.

He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's most likely playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.

“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”

Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.

Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and palms your ass.

Continuously rolling your body into him, makes you feel his arousal, causing a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth runs down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.

“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.

“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to your assailant…

“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him, and rushing out the car.

Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking the door open, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.

As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.

His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands soon make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.

He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus ogles you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.

He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”

“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every which way he could.

You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.

When your lengthy climax finishes, he moves to sigh pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.

“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act is.

“There’s only so much I can do before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”

He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.

Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.

You straddle him, and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.

“You’re too big,” you gasp.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“

“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.

“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.

“More,” he just about whines.

“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air abandons your body.

Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him, and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.

He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.

After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck.

Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.

“This is only the beginning.”

[xvysarene]

𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.1k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Profanities, Mentions of wounds Summary: There was a connection between you and Sylus that went beyond the typical boss & his right-hand woman dynamic. When you finally had enough of his recent behaviour since his return, you decided it was time to quit.

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“We agree to your terms, and as soon as we finish the down payment, we expect to see the firearms—”

Before you could even finish, the heavy double doors swung open with a crash. Sylus strode in, a dark aura clinging to him, and you knew that nothing good would come out of it.

“The deal is off.”

You gasped. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Ms. Y/N, I thought you said you could handle this deal solo?” Marcel—that cunning eel of a man—drawled lazily. “Looks like Mr. Sylus here still doubts your ability, even after all this time.”

On any other day, you would have knocked the smug grin off Marcel’s face. But your attention was fixed on your boss, Sylus, whose expression was a cold, impenetrable mask of indifference.

“I’ve worked on this for months. Alone. When you were gone chasing shadows,” you hissed, “You have no right to dictate me.”

Crimson eyes met your gaze with a fire of his own as he stepped closer. “And do I need to remind you who’s the leader of this organisation?”

How dare he!

It took a while for the others in the N109 Zone to stop belittling you, to finally trust you as Onychinus’s indispensable weapon who could hold her own ground, even entrusted to run the organisation in his absence.

And he knew this.

“I don’t meddle in your affairs, so stay out of mine.”

He exactly knew what, or who, you were talking about.

Somehow, this conversation was no longer about the deal; it was about something else that had been creating a rift between you both.

“You don’t understand—”

“You have no idea what I understand!” you snapped, jabbing a finger at his firm chest.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Luke entering the room to usher Marcel out.

“If you’re looking for a new job, my organisation is always open for a pretty little thing, buttercup.” He threw a mischievous wink your way.

The man was clearly not uncomfortable with the commotion; it was satisfying to see Onychinus crumbling before his own eyes.

Kieran cautiously stepped forward. “Boss, Y/N, let’s take a moment—”

“You think I wouldn't find out about your little escapade with ‘Miss Hunter’?”

That struck a nerve; Sylus’s eyes narrowed. 

“What?” you continued, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “Mephisto accidentally charged your card with millions just to buy every single protocore in the auction?”

Any heartfelt emotion you held for him was swallowed by fury and disappointment that had been building for some time. This was the last straw, a volcano ready to erupt.

“I’ve warned you before, Sylus.”

Ever since he came back from doing who knew what, he had been distracted. Physically, he was there—but he wasn't present.

Conversations that once flowed easily between you were now peppered by half-hearted responses.

As a last resort, you decided to prepare dinner for him and the twins that one night, something you periodically did when the mood struck, in the hopes of getting him to come around.

Luke and Kieran were happily munching on the lasagna and sipping wine from Sylus’s favourite bottle, their lively chatter filling up the dining room.

But the man who was supposed to be the centre of it all took only a single bite before abandoning it for his phone.

“Sylus, could you please put your phone down and enjoy the dinner?”

The twins froze, eyes flickering between the two of you, sensing the impending storm.

Yet Sylus didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention firmly fixed on the screen in his hand. Somehow, it was more important than the company around him.

“Sylus—”

“Can you get off my back for once?” Red eyes snapped to yours, flashing with irritation.

“You are losing me,” you repeated the words you had uttered that night. The tremble in your voice was a blend of rage and a deeper, more vulnerable feeling.

Sylus's eyes flashed, revealing the first hint of emotion that you recognised—a wounded look, perhaps, or something else that you didn’t dare to think about.

Kieran, determined to defuse the tension, squared his shoulders. “We all should take a breather and approach this with clearer heads.”

Eyes still fixed on your boss’s handsome face, the words came out with unwavering finality, “I quit.”

Ripping the brooch from where it rested just above your heart, you hurled it with such force that it bounced off his chest before skidding across the floor.

The sharp, unmistakable crack echoed throughout the silent room.

Sylus's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Fine.”

And that was it. There were no apologies, not even a 'thank you' for your dedication to Onychinus all this time.

“Please, don't do this. We need you,” Kieran’s voice had a note of desperation in it.

A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. “Your boss has made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t need me anymore. Apparently, he has more pressing matters than ensuring the organisation's interest.”

Sylus crossed his arms, his voice cutting like a cold knife. “If you're going to leave, then leave. We don't have time for theatrics.”

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away.

Luke, having just returned from escorting Marcel out, caught sight of the unexpectedly angry tears in your eyes and called out your name as you rushed down the hallway.

What you didn’t expect from quitting was the depth of void it created in your life. You missed the twins’ oddball humour and even found yourself longing for Mephisto’s often irritating caws.

It felt strange not to see the black bird outside of your bedroom window or atop the lamppost, as it normally would.

Despite the financial cushion provided by Onychinus’s paycheck, restlessness drove you back to the N109 Zone before long.

“Thought that we’d never see you again, missy.”

The familiar surroundings of Elysium provided a soothing balm to the loneliness gnawing inside you—the rich scent of aged booze mingled with the sound of rolling dice filling your senses.

“You’re not the only one surprised,” you muttered lowly, sitting down on one of the stools.

“Guess you are more used to staying here than Linkon now,” the young woman behind the bar chuckled. “Many might see it as a slum, but the N109 Zone has its charm.”

During Sylus’s absence, you had called the base as a second home. Staying there made it easier for you to manage the daily operation, sparing you the hassle of travelling back and forth to Linkon.

“What would you like to drink? It’s on the house.” Before you could answer, the woman beat you to it. “Rum and lemonade?”

A sudden feeling of yearning washed over you. It was Sylus who had first introduced you to this concoction right here, you had even questioned his taste at the time, but it had since become one of your favourite drinks.

You gulped the emotion down. “Yes, please.”

She sent you a sympathetic smile, obviously understanding what crossed your mind.

The burn of the rum started to warm your body as the second glass went down easily. Each sip brought back memories of standing side by side in battles and conversations shared in quieter moments, a foolish longing that settled deep within your chest. 

As you set it aside, you felt someone slid on the vacant stool beside you, encroaching on your personal space.

“What’s a pretty girl doing here all alone?”

“Leave me alone.” You didn’t even look at his direction.

Funnily enough, though you normally no longer felt the weight of the brooch—a symbol of your affiliation with Sylus and Onychinus—you now felt its absence vividly, like a phantom heaviness above your left breast.

With it, no one ever truly dared to come near you, wary of crossing paths with Sylus.

Without it, however, meant you were no longer under Sylus’s protection.

The man sidled closer, clearly not taking the hint. “Still playing hard to get even without Sylus behind you? You should have seen him dragged out of the raid like a ragdoll by his pair of thugs. It was pathetic.”

Your heart stuttered, finally looking at the man beside you. “What did you say?” 

Sylus, hurt? It was unthinkable. You had seen first-hand how his wound healed quickly.

“Heh, you really don’t know, do you?” His smile widened, revealing yellowed teeth. “The idiot went to finish Marcel off by himself last night. Imagine taking down dozens of Marcel’s men alone, with all their weapons.”

He daringly placed a hand on your thigh, fingers digging in. “So bitch, you’d better get off your damn high horse and listen. Without Sylus, you’re just another pretty face.”

In a quick manoeuvre, you slammed his head on the bar. His painful howl was cut short as you drew your concealed gun, the barrel pressed firmly against the back of his skull. “Touch me one more time and I’ll paint this bar with your brains.”

The barkeeper approached, her expression impassive as she took in the sight of your gun pressing against the man's head. However, when she noticed the colour draining from your face, a look of surprise crossed her features.

“You didn’t know?” she asked, her tone softer than you expected. “I thought that was the reason you came back here.”

Ignoring the curious stares of the other patrons, you stormed out of the bar, the weight of fear heavy on your shoulders.

The city's familiar streets blurred past as you made your way to the base, and you thought you heard familiar caws in the distance.

You didn't spare a second thought as the electronic lock still buzzed with recognision when your palm and iris scans were verified. The reinforced doors opened, granting you access just like usual.

Luke and Kieran met you in the hallway, no doubt alerted to your arrival. Whether by Mephisto or the security alert, you weren’t sure.

Even with their masks on, their surprised body language was unmistakable.

“How did you find out? Boss made sure that none of us tips you off,” Luke asked.

“It’s true?” you demanded, your voice was tight with anxiety. “About Sylus?”

The twins exchanged silent glances. “He’s in his quarters,” Kieran said slowly. “But be warned, he is in a foul mood.”

As you moved swiftly down the familiar corridors, your heart pounded in your chest. The smell of antiseptic hit your senses as you slid the door open, revealing the dimly lit room.

Sylus was seated on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he changed his bandages. “I told you guys to leave me alone. I’m fine,” his voice gruff.

You took a steadying breath. “Sylus.”

His silhouette tensed, and the set of his shoulders turned rigid. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was rough.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. The sight of bandages covering his injuries made it difficult to articulate your thoughts. “Why did you go after Marcel?”

“This isn’t a place for someone like you right now.”

That comment was odd, but you dismissed it as you crossed the room, closing the gap between you. Up close, you could see the bruises and wounds peppering his body—dark, angry splotches that marred his skin, evidence of the brutality inflicted by Marcel’s men.

While the healing process was slower than usual, it was still significantly faster than it would be for an ordinary person.

You had been working with him for quite some time yet you had never before seen him in such a state.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, catching your concerned gaze.

“You don’t look fine,” you said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what happened.”

Sylus shifted on the bed, wincing slightly as he rested his back on the headboard. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, “Marcel was the one behind the bombing of the hunter’s grandma’s house.”

As much as you felt sorry for the UNICORN hunter, you couldn’t understand why he would put his life on the line for her.

Was it because of the connection they had with the Aether Core? Or was it something else?

Unconsciously, your steps faltered backwards. The anxiety for his well-being took a backseat as the grip of jealousy clawed at you.

It was stupid to feel this way.

Suddenly, you felt rooted to the spot, your body freezing in place. The unexpected use of his Evol caught you off guard. 

“You came all the way here, so you’d better damn well listen to me before jumping to any conclusions.”

Even in his weakened state, he managed to pull you back to the edge of the bed and keep you seated there. He wasn’t close enough to touch, but not so far that you couldn’t see the fatigue etched into his features.

“I kept her around because she was useful. Marcel had been trying to frame Onychinus for the bombing.” His fists clenched, knuckles white. “But that wasn’t what set me off, that scumbag had been running his mouth about you, spreading lies of your incompetence, claiming that you’re nothing more than an empty shell.”

You looked at his injuries pointedly. “You took on his entire army because he taunted me?”

He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Don’t you see? I was the one feeding him that narrative. He had the front seat to everything that happened that day. I’m the one who unravelled the respect you worked so hard to earn.”

Was that a hint of guilt you heard in his voice?

“He’d been saying that you’d be better suited working in a whorehouse.”

Well, that explained the man's aggressiveness back at the bar, you thought.

“I’m not your responsibility anymore, you don’t need to protect me.”

Sylus looked away. Despite his rough edges, there was a glint of raw, exposed emotion that he struggled to conceal.

“It’s not just about responsibility,” his voice low, “Some things... they’re not as simple as just walking away.”

This was the Sylus you recognised—the same man who, in fleeting moments, had looked at you with an intensity or a softness that spoke of unfulfilled longing.

Everything had shifted since that one kiss, an impulsive act born from an evening of too much drink and unspoken feelings. A kiss that, in its haze, blurred the lines between what was accepted and what was desired.

Yet, every subtle brush of his hands, every act of ensuring your safety, was a quiet rebellion against the boundaries he had set from the start—this was not a place where work and pleasure were meant to mingle.

“That was the reason you called the deal off that day.” You fit the puzzles together.

He nodded. “I had a feeling that he was up to something.”

“And yet, I still don’t understand why you had to go behind my back with the hunter. This”—you gestured to his injuries and the distance between you—“could’ve been prevented.”

You tried to mask the hurt. “I thought you trusted me.”

Sylus shifted closer, and even though you felt that his Evol no longer held you in place, you allowed him.

“It wasn’t about trust, not in the way you think,” his voice was softer now, “If he found out you were involved, I couldn’t risk him coming after you.”

“I don’t need your protection as much as I need your honesty. And you were being a jerk.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning in closer, he cradled your jaw with a careful touch.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat at the intensity in his eyes that he didn’t try to mask any longer. “For caring. But I’d rather not see you get hurt again.”

“Can’t promise,” he murmured, “I will always stand between you and anyone who dares to harm you.”

You could feel the warmth of his breath before his lips touched yours, moving in a gentle, unhurried rhythm.

He wanted to savour this moment, to truly taste you with a clear head, unclouded by any alcohol.

Though, before long, a more primal voice seemed to overtake him. The intensity of the kiss grew, fueled by the unfiltered emotions coursing between you.

It was a fierce, unrestrained need to claim you.

No longer feeling tender, his tongue urged your lips open with a determined persistence. Sylus groaned into your mouth as you parted easily, the need to taste you becoming more urgent.

As he took a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, your gaze locked with the searing flame in his eyes.

A sudden weight pressed against your neck, and you looked down, startled, to find a crow whose wings arched protectively around a red diamond pendant. It was similar to the brooch he had given you, but this was more than an accessory.

It was more personal—more intimate.

“Will you do me the honour of becoming my partner again?” His voice was husky with emotion. “Onychinus needs you. I need you.”

Carefully, you pushed him down the bed, legs spreading daringly caging his form. “Maybe if you beg a little more, I’ll consider it.” 

Both his eyebrows arched in surprise, visibly taken aback by your boldness.

“But, weren’t we supposed to keep work and pleasure separate?” you teased.

A hint of a smirk curled at the edges of his lips. “I’m the boss. I make the rules. Besides, this is more than just a pleasure.”

His large palms settled on your hips, fingers splaying across the curve of your body with a possessive yet tender grip, pulling you closer.

“Can I start by begging you to kiss my wounds and make them better then?”

As he whispered his request, his masculine hands sneaked their way inside your clothes, fingers trailing a line of fire against your skin. Just as the moment heated up, a rustling noise came from outside the door.

The two of you paused, eyes narrowing with suspicion. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open just a fraction. Before either of you could react, Luke and Kieran let out a startled yelp.

“Oh no! They’re doing the hanky panky!” Luke whispered loudly, scandalised.

In a flurry of hurried movements, the twins slammed the door closed and bolted down the hallway, leaving you both staring after them in stunned silence.

Sylus sighed, hiding his face in the soft bend of your neck. “We’ll definitely have to set some new rules about privacy too.”

[inkskinned]

hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology

MDNI | Poly 141 x Fem Fat Reader | masterlist

Part 1: New Girl

You stare up at the sign reading ONE - FOUR - ONE in old English font. It’s an old building, all brick and stuffed in between several others. The windows have a thin, semi-opaque cover them to let in the light without allowing you to see inside.

You make your way to the front door, trying the handle and feeling stupid the moment you do. Your eyes connect with a small intercom beside you and you press it. There’s a small buzz, then silence.

A few beats go by, you debate pressing it again. You don’t want to be too insistent.

“Hello?” A voice comes through just before you reach up to press again.

“I, uh…” You stutter. Despite having many, many tattoos you somehow still feel like a poser every time you enter a new studio. “I have an appointment at one? With John?”

The man on the other side confirms your name before buzzing you in, the door letting out a loud click before you step inside. It both makes you more nervous and more relaxed - you can appreciate a closed storefront like that. Especially for something often as private as tattoos and piercings, but it still feels like you’re doing something wrong. Just a little bit.

The front room is lovely, though. The texture over the glass bathes the front room in a calm, iridescent light. There are a few waiting chairs, a low, black table piled high with books of flash. The front of the high counter is covered with posters and stickers from events going all the way back to the 90s.

The pretty man behind the counter repeats your name absently, obviously thinking about other things. Probably the half-finished design that sits abandoned on the iPad next to the appointment book he’s staring down at. You just nod in agreement.

“I’ll let John know you’re here.” He nods back, turning and pushing through a pair of saloon style doors to disappear down the hall. You take the time he’s gone to look around, flipping through yet another small book of designs on top of the counter. They’re good. Unique. Very gothic and interestingly detailed. Somehow both fine and bold simultaneously.

“Afternoon.” You jump, snapping the book shut and looking up to meet a pair of soft blue eyes and an easy smile. He looks you over briefly before extending his hand. “John Price.”

You murmur your name quietly, trying very hard to not stare at the incredible traditional work patched into a sleeve up his strong arm. Damn.

He leads you back to his work station - past a piercing studio and across from another room with the door shut and an IN SESSION sign on the door. The dull, buzzing sound of a tattoo machine drifts through.

“Now,” John says as he cuts down the extra paper around the stencil. “Just remember if you don’t like the placement we can move it. No problem.”

“Okay.” You nod, appreciative that he mentioned it. Sometimes these older men in the industry are gruff and have an attitude if you do anything less than treat them as if they are anything other than Absolutely Right and Perfect. Not that John came off that way. There’s a softness in his affect that relaxes your muscles and leaves you breathing easy.

“I know y’have several but I’m still going t’do a line and then see how you feel.” He murmurs, voice low.

It’s sweet, the way he’s walking you through it all despite the piece being small and you obviously having done with process several times. The sting of the needle is as expected and you murmur that it was fine before he really gets to work.

“Just let me know if y’need a break…” He mumbles, voice dipping even lower as he concentrates on his work. In any other situation that rumble would probably have you squirming in your seat. There’s a silence for a while before he speaks again, almost as if he forgot you were there. “This design have any significance?”

“I just wanted to get a new tattoo in my new hometown.” You snort - now at the point where most of your tattoos fall under the ‘because it’s cool’ category. “Probably stupid, seeing as I don’t have a job yet but… I don’t know. Feels like good luck.”

John grins. “Well then, thanks f’lettin’ me be your good luck charm.”

Your face heats at the rumble in his voice - glancing away nervously.

There’s another lapse of silence while he works, the only words exchanged are when he asks if you need a break and you decline. Eventually, toward the end you think, he asks another question. “What brought y’here then? If not a job?”

You would shrug, but you try to keep as still as possible while he works. “Just needed a change. Found an apartment easy enough - now I just need a way to make money.”

He hums in agreement. “What do you have experience in? Been around here a while - might be able to recommend somethin’.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You brighten up. “Receptionist work, mostly. Some admin assistant stuff.”

He pauses, cocking an eyebrow. “Y’know, we’re hirin’ right now.”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head. “I don’t have, like, a resume with me.”

“You’ve got enough tattoos I’m assumin’ you know how the industry works. My apprentice is going to start actually tattooin’ soon, an’ I hate t’ have him still pickin up extra duties at the front.” He sits back, carefully smoothing saniderm onto your arm before turning and reaching for the ink-stained sketchbook behind him. “Tell y’what, you write down a few references for me and your number. If they’ve got good things t’ say we can do a trial period.”

You blink at him. He’s awful forward, and insistent, but you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try. A temp job is better than no job. “Alright…”

Just like that, you gained employment by way of making a stupid financial decision.

John’s an incredible boss. He pays fairly (generously, but you know better than to accidentally negotiate your pay down). He gives you plenty of hours and trains you well - with the help of his apprentice. He doesn’t get annoyed when you ask questions, seeming content with your determination to do your job to the best of your abilities. The shop goes by appointment only - no walk ins and potential customers have to call to book. John keeps things old fashioned like that. All pen and paper and cash transactions. An ATM sits in the waiting area. The most complicated part of your job is changing out the cash box in it, and that only take a few days to learn. Not that you mind, it’s sort of refreshing to not deal with some fuckass new and “improved” register and appointment system.

Turns out part of the reason they operate in such a way (other than preference) is because John is a big name in the tattoo world. You hadn’t realized until he pointed out a couple of your flash tattoos were from his best-selling book of designs.

“Wait, you’re famous!?” You gasp, staring wide eyed at the old binder of newspaper clippings and book sales. ‘My Mum Wasn’t Impressed At First - Now Even She Has One’ reads the title of one of the older clippings - yellowed with age. John lacks his signature beard in the photo. It almost looks wrong.

John chuckles, crossing his arms and leaning back in his rolling chair. “You could say that. You really didn’t know about our shop before you booked?”

You shake your head. “Nah, I just saw y’all get recommended on Reddit.”

He barks out a laugh at that. It’s a low, pleased sound that sends a shiver down your spine. His beard only emphasizes the apples of his cheeks as he smiles. Yeah, that’s the other thing, having a hot boss is kind of fire.

Plus, he’s not the only one. The whole studio is full of hunks.

Kyle is easily the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. Like, run for Miss Universe pretty. Big doe eyes with a little scar on his cheekbone - small golden hoops glitter from both his earlobes. They frame his face so well, creating a perfect diamond from them to his sparkling eyes to his pretty smile; curled and genuine with perfect teeth. He walks you through the booking process step by step, that first day, a warm hand on your back and the other tracing down the columns of the physical appointment book.

His work is as beautiful as he is. At least, the ones done on fake skin. John hasn’t let him tattoo anyone for real yet - but his practice sketches are immaculate. At least to a layman. Kyle himself never seems quite satisfied with them. He gets such vivid color, though.

“Tattooing darker skin is an art form in and of itself.” He murmurs as he works on a piece of very dark fake skin. “I want people like me t’ be able t’ get exactly what they want, with just as much color as they want.”

You nod along, sipping at your coffee from across the street that you’ve taken up stopping at every day before work. Kyle has so much passion for the industry. The look he gets in his eyes while talking about it or designing a new piece makes your heart flutter.

Simon, the other resident artist, you’re the least familiar with. You can’t quite decide how to feel about him, or decipher how he feels about you. John introduced you a couple days after you started, but all you got was a perfunctory nod and a ‘good luck’. You couldn’t help but feel starstruck, despite his blunt nature. Both thick arms covered in full, detailed sleeves. High quality, ornate black work. A man of stature - six feet and some change with a breadth that a barn would envy. Pretty, blonde hair cropped just short of turning to curls and dark eyes that bore through you to the very core.

Sometimes, when he comes to ask about his next appointment, you let yourself indulge in the fantasy that he stands close because he likes you. That his knee briefly knocks against yours because he wants to touch you - not that you’re crazy enough to believe it. Just crazy enough to be a tiny bit delusional for the fun of it.

You meet their resident piercer on the weekend. Apparently, he’d been away visiting family your first week.

He leans up over the counter, grinning at you from ear to ear. A well-built man only a few inches shorter than the others with a perfectly groomed mohawk. “Well, hello there. Aren’t you a bonnie little thing?”

You frown, hackles raising instinctually. “Uh, can I help you?”

“Och, they dinnae tell ye about me yet? I’m hurt.” He pouts, thick brows emphasizing the puppy like nature of his blue eyes.

“Let her be, Soap.” Kyle sighs heavily, walking to his area of the front with a fresh sketchbook.

“Soap?” You repeat.

“Aye. Cause apparently I need my mouth washed out.” He pokes his tongue out, only to reveal a silver piercing. He holds a hand over the counter. “Johnny MacTavish.”

Johnny is the most egregious man you have ever met - always touching you in one way or another when he checks in about appointments and so on. His Scottish brogue rings in your ears, every word loud and confident. A hand finds it’s way around your waist, a finger poking under the band of whatever bottoms you wear that day. At any other job, you would have considered it harassment and tore him a new one.

Johnny’s different, though. If you shrug him off he steps away, if you flinch he pulls back. Plus, he does it to everyone else just as much as you. More, if you’re honest. If Simon is within arms reach they’re touching. You noticed Johnny pushing a hand under his shirt at one point, grabbing at the soft layer over Simon’s abs. (A great view for you, frankly.) Hell, you saw him casually hold Kyle’s hand while they were talking over lunch. Even John isn’t immune to the clinging. You don’t think much of it. Body modding attracts all sorts of people. If Johnny’s just a touchy guy then he’s just touchy. Besides, you don’t mind that much when he slips an arm around your waist or hooks his chin on your shoulder to talk to you. Warm breath tracing the shell of your ear with a quiet ‘bonnie lass’ punctuating ever other sentence. A slight pinch to your hip before he trots away to set up his station.

You feel nauseous when your trial month ends. John sits you down across from him in the back office. A practical space with not much more in it than a desk, computer and the large safe. None of you spend much time back here outside of counting down the cash and dragging the trash bags through the back door to the dumpster.

“Think you’ve done really well, dove.” He grins. You try to ignore the way the pet name looks warmth in your lower belly. “You’ve picked up quickly, you’re good on the phone. Kyle’s been very happy about the extra time to practice.”

You let out the biggest, most relieved sigh of your life, shoulders slumping slightly.

“You don’t seem to mind Johnny, but if he gets to be too much let me or Simon know, yeah? He means well but he can be… well, you know.” John says absently as he reaches for something across the desk. “How are you feelin’?”

You nod. “I, uh, feel good. I like this position a lot. Everyone’s been very welcoming.”

John nods along. “Good, good. I see no reason to not hire you on full time. Here.”

You hold put your hands as John drops a small, silver key into them. Holy shit! You get your own key! Up until now they’d been buzzing you in, but they’re trusting you with your very own key!

John must see the excitement on your face because he chuckles and extends a hand. “Welcome aboard, kid.”

A/N: I was very wine drunk writing most of this and it has next to no editing but I hope you enjoyed it! I just want something I can write that’s episodic and not as serious/brain heavy as Fancy or Across the Way

[idgafabyou]

umm i dreamt. do not recommend

[hellsslibrary]

Hello! There's just not so many sub! Kaiser fics and I'm d y i n g to read those 😔😔

Can I request for a sub! Kaiser x male reader where Kaiser has a praise kink but doesn't ever want to admit it 👀

#a.n. :This is so same! Kaiser is such a babygirl, I want to kiss him, eat him, hug him, and then rock him in my arms and let him relax... But no, this bitch is always top, lol. Even funny.

"I don't like your damn praise! Just fuck me alre—...What?"

!!Warnings: Bottom!Sub!Michael, Dom!Top!Reader, sex on an indoor football field (it's empty, it just seemed interesting to me, imagine the echo there...), praise kink obviously, Michael tries to be dominant, but he's too much of a pillow princess (he came out so gentle... In his own way), in fact everything is quite vanilla, but he kicks you when he's unhappy, also very romantic in general. × And the reader is somehow connected with football company. You can be a manager, a football player, or even a cleaner there, honestly.

The football field in the building was closed at night, knowing full well how persistent football players in the leagues can be. Darkness, silence, idyll... Except for the flashlight from the phone somewhere in the middle of the field and quiet groans echoing from the walls.

"Why did you decide to have sex here? Plus, at this time?" You ask, looking over at Michael, who was clutching at the trimmed grass in the lawn as you thrust into him at a careful, almost tremulous pace.

“I think you said yourself that you wanted to experiment... So we’re starting with something easy,” Blonde whispers, wincing from the unpleasant feeling of artificial grass in his hands, so he just hugs your neck lazily.

“Well, yes, but... You obviously have some other reasons. But I won’t push if you don’t want to talk,” Michael just sighs at your words, but it immediately turns into a soft moan when your lips touch his neck.

“I just love the atmosphere in here, as weird as it sounds, so shut up and fuck me,” A disgruntled mutter escapes his lips, only to be cut short when he tilts his head back, giving you better access to his neck.

You look over his face, surprisingly too peaceful for him. Maybe this place really brought inner comfort to his soul, erasing all the doubts and burdens that he kept inside and sometimes shared with you. Maybe it was. But your heart broke at the sight of him for some reason, you understood his feelings more than anyone... Because you were probably the only one he was able to open up to so much.

“Micha? You’re a good boy,” echoes from your lips almost casually, but with a sickly sweet note that you want to listen to forever and drown in these sweet speeches.

"What was it?"

You find yourself torn from examining his face by his question. And really, why did you say that? He didn't do anything special during your entire session, which lasted about half an hour. And you too... But one look at him is enough for you to understand why.

Your attentive gaze glides over his perfect facial features, long eyelashes giving his eyes an unusual softness and warmth. Instantly you feel the desire to say that he is beautiful, extraordinarily beautiful. Faithful hands, strength and tenderness in every touch, sincerity and warmth in every word, just for you. The desire to praise, to say how much love and kindness he has, how he is able to bring a smile even in the most cloudy weather.

His soul shines brighter than the stars in the sky, his smile can melt the heart of icy granite. The desire to praise, express gratitude for all the beauty and kindness that he brings into this world. He is not just a person, he is magic, miracle, a spark that pushes you to move even in your most difficult moments.

The words seem unfair, but the heart is filled with feelings that are impossible to carry on the wind. Praise, approval, love — all these are small before the greatness of his soul and his existence. You really want to tell him about this so that he understands how amazing and significant he is to you. Just as the sun rises every morning, he awakens in you a feeling of awe and admiration that seems endless and will remain so.

“Because I love you,” You say without thinking, and immediately catch a light, rare blush on his cheeks.

His hand immediately drops down from your shoulder to cover the pink dust on his cheeks, but you intercept his hand, kissing his fingers tenderly, intertwining your fingers together.

"You idiot... Why so suddenly?" He asks, even if he doesn't wait for an answer, lightly kicking you in the side, groaning when you lean over him a little closer, hitting his sweet spot at a pleasant angle.

You find yourself thinking that you would worship him if he were God. It’s not that you didn’t already worship him... But he was definitely the person for whom even an atheist would reconsider their views on the world.

"Why suddenly? I'm always ready to praise you. You are tenacious, driven, incredibly smart, caring for those you care about in your own way... You are simply magnificent."

"Shut up, please shut up. I don't need your praise, just fuck me and..." He trails off, kicking you in the side again as he realizes something, "You didn't say that I'm handsome."

“Your beauty is a fact. But your appearance is far from the main thing that you have, even if you think differently... But if I started to list what I like about you externally, then we would move on to dithyrambs and ballads, and not to the climax."

Michael chuckles, finally distracted from contemplating you in response, realizing that he really feels a knot growing in his stomach. In general, he would never admit that he would be glad to listen to these dithyrambs and ballads and much more if it came from you. He's always taken praise for granted because, yes, he's Michael Kaiser, but now? He's just a puddle in your hands that's trying to look like ice.

“I’m not clenching around your cock right now because...” He cuts himself off, groaning as your mouth sucks on his neck in the area of his tattoo, “It’s not because I liked the praise, is that clear to both of us?”

“Of course, my King, as you say,” You say, biting the skin of his neck, causing him to whimper quietly as one of your hands slides to his cock, stroking it in time with your thrusts.

Your pace gradually picks up as you get closer too. And the sight of Michael, who clearly enjoyed your previous praise, did not at all ease your hard-on, nor did the warm walls around him.

"Call me!" He suddenly shouts, kicking you in the side once again, although you have no idea what he means at first, pulling away from his neck.

"Good boy?" You ask cautiously and to your surprise and pleasure, his cock twitches in your palm, and after a few thrusts he actually comes, squeezing you tighter than usual, which is why you can’t help but cum, thrusting into him a couple of times in post-orgasmic bliss, and then laying down on his chest.

The quiet rhythm of his heartbeat calmed you as he lightly ran his hand through your hair. You were both regaining your more than ragged breaths before the comfortable silence was interrupted by a question that made you chuckle hoarsely.

“Why did you ask this and not state it as a fact?”

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Really sleepy and so like sleeping with you headcannons lets go

I'm not sure half of these are even on the same vibe so uhm like do with that what you will, this is so long and it's atrocious but oh well. Also sorry if its ooc😻

I think maybe one line of suggestive in Franky's and Namis.

I feel like i forgot someone tbh..

Luffy

Sleeps anywhere and everywhere but sleeps better and longer next to you. Thus he is obsessed with sleeping with you and whenever he wants to sleep now you have no choice you must take sleep too. He snores and drools but that's kind of a win because then he doesn't care if you do yk? Loves taking naps with you and it's a way he likes to connect with you. Always kisses you before you sleep and after you wake up. He's so comfortable to lie next to because he's so squishy and he holds you in like every way possible because he doesn't have to worry about circulation being cut off or anything.

Zoro

Again he will sleep literally anywhere. He sleeps like a log but somehow you are the only person able to wake him up, Robin theorises it's his observation haki keeping an eye on you but whatever it is you are Zoros designated alarm clock. However, there is about a 30% chance that when you wake him up, he will just snatch you to cuddle and go back to sleep. You cannot escape his hold and if you keep trying to wake him up he'll just bite you(gently) idk he's feral. Depends on his schedule if he's comfortable or not, usually when he's bulking up he's squishier and it's nice to cushion your head on.

Sanji

Never naps and it's so alarming. How does he survive on like 6 hours everyday we will never know. Anyways he's very clingy when he's sleepy but in like a 'I don't want to bother you so I'll just sit over here looking really forlorn', just take the man to bed. Is somehow so comfy to sleep with it's actually annoying because after a certain point you just can't sleep alone anymore. Always tucks you in if you don't get up at the same time as him and he'll leave little snacks and drinks on your bedside table for when you do wake up. Sanji has a more lean muscly build so it's more comfortable to have him lie on top of you and he is not complaining in the slightest.

Nami

Loves cuddling in the winter, hates it in the summer. She's really sensitive to the temperature yk it's that innate sense of the weather, so when it's hot she is hot. But she really likes being able to touch you, so after a certain point she just forces franky to install(invent) air conditioning and it makes the summer so much more bearable. After this there's no escape, you will be cuddling every night (unless boundaries yk). She always tries to convince you stay in bed in the morning...and it always works. She's very persuasive okay. Lets you use her as a pillow, like her chest or thighs or tummy, she just wants to be next to you.

Usopp

Really shy about sleeping with you the first time. Only the first time. After that well lets just say you created a monster. He's really good at telling when you need a nap, especially when you won't admit it. He just subtly ushers you to a comfy spot and then oh what a surprise your eyes are getting really heavy and hm Usopp wouldn't mind if you leant on him for a bit and then snoreville. He thinks you're so pretty when you're sleeping because you look so peaceful and relaxed, so even if he's not tired he will always agree to a nap. He will carry you to bed. And he's so casual about it too, I guess because you're not like watching him directly so he's just like really chill.

Robin

Actually has a nap schedule with her sleep schedule, she usually takes a very short one after lunch because her power can be quite draining and so once you find this out it's just a big cuddle session which she loves. She tends to keep you to a sleep schedule too but she won't force you if you are really insistent on staying up, but she will say I told you so when you're grumpy and feel sick the next day. So lovely to sleep with, she barely moves, never hogs the blanket, doesn't snore and somehow always stays very cool even in the summer. She also always makes sure you get into bed safely if you're drunk or ill, even if she is too, she really cares about you.

Franky

I won't lie...he builds himself an entire like cushion add-on thing so you can comfortably sleep next to him. He looks like a giant marshmallow man it's so funny. But also it's so cute because he takes your comfort so seriously and he runs multiple tests to make sure it's the absolute comfiest he can be for you. Loves naps but absolutely adores actual bedtime because of the whole like rituals and because he knows he doesn't have to get up in like an hour. Sometimes he will seriously overwork into the night, but on those occasions it's fairly easy to coax him to bed(😚). Also he wears one of those stupid scrooge hats tbh. And yes he says super in his sleep.

Brook

Really insecure about sleeping together because he thinks he'll be uncomfortable to lie next to or cuddle :(. On the other hand, you're also really worried because you don't want to accidentally hurt him while he's asleep, so for the first few months you sleep in beds that are close enough to hold hands instead. Eventually when you both become comfortable with the idea, you end up sleeping together almost every night and you occasionally nap together too. He wears really soft padded pajamas to make sure you're comfy. It's surprisingly more comfy to sleep next to him than you thought it would be.

I won't lie sometimes you do shit yourself waking up and seeing a skeleton.

Jinbei

So responsible, absolutely will stop you from napping if it's too close to bedtime. He knows sleep is important but he also knows a routine is important...and he can't bear watching you sleep alone so if you mess up your schedule then you're messing up his. This also works for if you try to stay up late too, he'll straight up snatch you off the ground and just carry you to bed no matter how much you complain. Really good cuddler, like really good. He always knows how much pressure to use while holding you and when you want more or less contact, knows when you need extra blankets, when you want to sleep in a hammock instead of a bed. He's got a sixth sense for your sleeping habits (read: he's desperately in love with you).

Law

Really grumpy about it. And really shy. Also he's a hypocrite, he'll stay up working till early hours of the morning but if you dare even try he's stood there staring at you like the mf eyes of notre dame. He always wants to cuddle but absolutely despises asking so again he just stares, you can always tell though because his ears go really red. Once you're in the bed though he's suddenly mr suave i will arrange everything, he will literally pick you up to manoeuvre you both into a better sleeping position and doesn't even bat an eye. He will nap but you have to trick him into it, he secretly loves it and lets you do it even when he knows what's happening.

Kidd

Needs like 15 million blankets to sleep. Uses one of said 15 million blankets to wrap you up like a burrito if you refuse to come sleep/nap with him. But actually it kinda does hurt his feelings so you can make up for it by playing with his hair until he falls asleep. Loves napping, he's like an overgrown cat and he'll sleep literally anywhere. But if it's anywhere other than his or yours (or killers) room he somehow? manages? to scowl? in his sleep? Yeah I don't know but it just stops his crew from messing with him because he looks so angry. Like Zoro he will literally just snatch you if you're in his vicinity, like you walk past for two seconds and then suddenly your vision flips and you're just stuck in this iron grip. He won't let you go and the crew just walk past you too.

Killer

You literally don't sleep together until you've been dating for like a fucking year. He really values his privacy and you really respect it which culminates in neither of you asking for such a long time that you both forget its a common couple thing. Until someone asks why you don't sleep together and then you guys are like huh idk and then that's the day you finally do. He's a good cuddler but he's a blanket hogger and you have to braid his hair before bed or it will end up in your mouth. On the plus side, he will make and leave breakfast or coffee (or anything you want) on your bedside table if he wakes up first. Also he always picks the best bedsheets and eventually buys two quilts so you can at least have some blanket when he snatches it all.

Ace

Naturally runs like a furnance and is hell to sleep next to in the summer. But he gets really grumpy if you dont sleep next to him so the crew make you suck it up I'm sorry. Literally you're like clawing at the walls as they throw you in and lock the door. Anyways he's a really good cuddler and so comfy to sleep with, and he always takes naps with his head in your lap. He loves to have you sleep on him too because he loves to look at your face and stroke you hair, idk he likes being slow with you even though he's really energetic. Being naturally sleepy and like a little radiator also tends to make the people around him sleepy so you two are banned from working next to each other because you both just end up napping.

Marco

He doesn't sleep a lot because well he doesn't really need to. But he adores sleeping with you. It's one of his like favourite 'bonding' activities, especially if you haven't been able to be alone for a while, he just loves being that close and the intimacy of sleeping in each others beds. On another note he's obsessed with making your bed really comfy because as a doctor he knows sleep hygiene is important and as a bird...well yk...nest. He's not shy about it but don't tease him because it will hurt his feelings and he won't tell you to save your feelings, beautiful sweet man that he is. LOVES a good nap/cuddle especially in the winter, if you both have spare time he just bundles you both in a big fluffy blanket and just exists with you for a bit.

Izou

He is surprisingly a really undignified sleeper, which is why you don't sleep in the same room for months when you first get together😭. When you finally do, you wake up with his arm in your face, his hair is everywhere, there's a pillow across the room, the blanket is somehow under the bed, you're just like wtf how. And Izou is just (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿◡⁠`⁠). But he gets better over time because his brain becomes more aware of your presence as you become more important to him and then bedtime settles into comfy chaos. Pillows still end up everywhere but he is now your cushion so you don't really care. He doesn't really nap anywhere that's not his room but if you do then he carries you to bed :).

[parfaitblogs]

you know what would be cool? A blurb about Spencer and girly!reader who's a total nerd and loves ribbons, dresses and jewels. I HATE the stereotype of nerdy people who don't care much about how they look and dress in a ""weird"" way

spencer reid x girly!reader. fluff. 0.6k words. fem reader. reader likes harry potter (it's briefly mentioned. fuck jkr!)

a/n: so u mean penelope garcia?? kidding! idk how good i feel about this but i really wanted to get this request up sorry it’s so late :( thank you for the request ♡

spencer reid who did not expect to feel anything other than fleeting attraction for the pretty girl he had bumped into at the coffee shop closest to the quantico building. or to actually see you again other than that one moment in the midst of his running-late-to-work panic. only to have found out that the brand new member that aaron hotchner was introducing that day was none other than that same pretty girl. 

who had stammered out another apology — the stack of them were growing quite high for a man you had only met that morning — and introduced himself to you, properly. spencer reid who you could hear telling morgan to shut up, because "she might hear you!" because he was teasing spencer about the way he was looking at you and he feared the absolute worst when it came to girls like you. 

spencer reid who's nerves melted away the first time you contributed something to the team during a briefing — something about the statistics of the child abduction you all were currently investigating, that he was able to bounce off of and agree with. you both had to dumb down the words you had used and explain it to the rest of the team again. which he was used to. he didn't think he'd ever find someone who had to do that as well. 

who listened to you when you began to ramble about this book series you were reading and how cool it is because "it spans like three different continents and there's so many different sub-series but they all connect somehow!" and nobody else was listening. but he was.

spencer reid who began to accept your rides home after you had learned he usually catches the train, because you had discovered he lived only a block away from you. rides home that eventually turned into going over to each other's apartments after that one time he said he wanted to show you the hogwarts lego set because you mentioned liking the series. 

he stopped coming up with excuses to have you over the fourth time, and had simply said "i just want you to come over". that was the day you had discovered you think you might like him. 

spencer reid who let you sleep on his bed despite your own insistence when it hit two in the morning and you both had work the next morning and you were still at his apartment watching doctor who together (he was flabbergasted to learn you had never seen it). 

and he had woken you up the next morning and he was so cute and his hair was sticking up everywhere and he was kind of smiling at you and you confirmed with yourself that yes, you liked him. 

spencer reid who had properly asked you on a date after a long three months of you flirting with him because morgan had been seeing it and was getting sick of him doing nothing about it. who picked you up this time, and had laughed when you wound the windows of his car back up because "my hair will fly everywhere!" and "if i lose this bow, you're paying for a new one spencer reid!"

but he had also kind of forgotten how to talk, when he sat across from you at the kind of dingy italian restaurant (he didn't know where else to take you, okay?). because while he had fallen for a girl who shared so many interests with him he was sure she might be his carbon copy, he was also violently reminded (as he was every time he looked at you) how pretty you were. 

and spencer reid wishes he could describe you with any other word, because he's sure there's bigger and harder to say words out there that could describe you. but none of them made sense the way pretty did. 

you had questioned his silence and he had stammered as much as he did the day you met, and you smiled because if all it took was you dressing up to fluster him, you decided you'd do it a lot more often.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[xazse]

not rlly a request or anything but if you see that way feel free to ignore <33 but... I'm CRAVING more of your genius thoughts on loser satoru...

OFC OFC PART ONE HERE

Loser Satoru has gotten kinda bold lately, he’s been practically begging for your pussy, the first time he asked you resisted the urge to burst out laughing, Satoru? You know how this goes, you give a loser a taste of pussy and he’ll lose himself, walking around campus spilling it to everyone that you opened your legs for him.

Loser Satoru who somehow gets you to sneak somewhere behind a building with him for a make out session. He’s a terrible kisser: trying to shove his tongue in your mouth so early instead of gradually moving into it. Everytime you pull away he’s open mouthed panting and if you look a little closer strings of saliva are present on his chin. He’s desperate with the way he’s also palming his cock, just from a little kissing he’s fully hard.

Loser Satoru who gets thrown a bone and takes it, you’ve decided to take it a step further and let him dry hump you: and it’s only because you feel bad for him, you’ll probably be the only girl who will touch or even get near him.

You’re positioned on your fluffy bed lying down on your stomach whilst Satoru is above you hovering over your ass with his knees on both sides of you, he relaxes a little on the back of your knees. You’ve decided on wearing your cutest black panties, a little lacy and definitely sexy, probably too much for his virgin mind to handle by the way he’s staring.

He reaches out and grabs the fat of your ass, it’s so soft in his hand. He drags his hand over the hump of your ass and slides them near your cunt:

“Don’t you dare Toru’” you scold him, he lets out a disappointing sigh but does remove his hand in favor of gripping your ass again.

You hear his belt unbuckling and a zipper being undone. In the next couple of seconds you feel something warm touch the exposed part of your ass cheek. He starts slow when he begins rubbing the tip of his cock against you, already low groans leaving his throat. After a few moments of him warming up he’s now full on humping you, his wet precum smearing against you with every thrust forward.

Your ass is bouncing and Satoru’s head is dizzying this feels so much better than his hand, his balls are tightening and everytime he grips them for added stimulation his entire being shivers, to be honest it was feeling good for you too. You spread your legs a little so his cock starts to bump against your pussy, Satoru can feel the wet fabric of your panties and it’s further ruining him. Satoru suddenly leans down and has his stomach on your back, head tucked into your neck.

“m’ cumming… oh-shit” he sobbed out, he spasms and coats the inside of your thighs with his cum.

Loser Satoru who you allow to finally after eternity fuck you properly, after all the foreplay is done he’s sliding his fat cock in your cunt, you can’t believe the words slow down are coming out of your lips, especially towards him. You’re wet and hot as he snuggly fits in, you won’t let up with your clenching down on him and it’s not helping at all when it comes to cumming inside you prematurely.

Gojo isn’t nice when he begins fucking you, he feels like he’s not in control of his hips, he’s slamming his cock straight into you over and over. Your messy cunt is so loud, but he’s even louder with his obnoxious moaning,

Gojo isn’t nice when he begins fucking you, he feels like he’s not in control of his hips, he’s slamming his cock straight into you over and over. It’s tantalizing the way your cunt looks as it’s sucking him in and out.

“So.. good, mhhn..” he manages to choke out, Satoru knew that from the porn videos he frequented that him being balls deep in a girl would feel good but he couldn’t image just how fucking amazing it feels, his body is feverish and aching. He looks at where you’re connected again and sees your cum and his cum mixing at the base it’s leaking and making a mess on the both of you.

“Ohm- Toru’ feels s’good” you cry from underneath him, you begin rubbing your soaked clit back and forth, it makes everything taste much more delicious. You’re so close as Gojo continues pounding deep within you. Your stomach starts to turn and twist, feeling weird you try to tell him to stop for a moment but all that leaves your lips are more moans.

With another deep thrust you squirt, soaking your bed, and Satoru. Satoru doesn’t acknowledge it instead he convulses himself and forces his cock the deepest it can go, and cums right inside of you.

He falls right ontop of you, and light snores can be heard shortly after, it’s hard to fight the sleepiness you’re feeling as well so you give in.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi 👋🏻 Lou!! Congratulations 🎊🎉 on 6k!!

So how about Arranged Marriage w/ Simon?

Again congrats to 6k 🙃💛🦡

.⋆｡Give 'Em Hell｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Your parents think you need to get married and settle down, so they called in a favour. A big military man of a husband might do you some good just not in the way they think

Warnings: arranged marriage, sort of sugar baby/daddy relationship, misogynist parents, future revenge, mention of hook-ups WC: 986

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You often wondered about the true scope of your family’s stupidity. Sure, there were moments in your childhood where you had the vivid thought that no one could be as ignorant and blatantly idiotic as your parents were but somehow, they had absolutely hit rock bottom of moronic decisions.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m getting married?” Your mother gasped.

“Watch your tone young lady, that is no way to speak to your parents.” She scolded as your father’s expression hardened. There was no question that your parents were ‘traditional’ believing that women were less than their male counterparts in every way but while they had constantly lectured you on those beliefs, they hadn’t gone so far as to inflict them upon you, until now at least. They even helped you and encouraged you through college!

“You’ve been running wild long enough, it’s time for you to do your duty,” you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “We’ve let you chase your silly little dreams but you’re getting older and your clock is ticking.” Your father clicked his tongue and reached for the tumbler of expensive bourbon on the table beside his recliner.

“We’ve picked out a good man!” Your mother chirped from her place on the expensive love seat next to your father, “He’s highly decorated in the military, he can give you a good life.”

“I don’t give a shit about that! I’m not marrying anybody! Period!” You snarled. Anger curled in your gut, turning your tone sour.

Your father’s glass slammed down onto the wood, making your mother flinch. “You will marry him or I will make your life a living hell. I make one call and no one will want to hire you, not even as a fucking garbage collector. You know the connections I have. Suck it up and be a responsible adult for once.” 

——————

“I don’t want a husband.” The man across from you made a sound that you thought might have been a laugh. Simon, as you had learned from your parents, was a Lieutenant in a special ops task force. Never married, no family to speak of and copious amounts of money, your mother had gleefully added as she literally dragged you into the official-looking building where you would be meeting your future spouse.

He was by all means, an intimidating man. Almost 6 and a half feet tall and wearing a stupid balaclava with a skull on it, he looked more fitting being in a slasher movie than in a conference room negotiating marriage stipulations. His bulky, tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, somehow making him seem even bigger to you, as he leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t want a wife.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that. 

“Then why are you here?” 

His massive shoulders rolled back as his head tilted, cracking his neck. “Same as you— orders.” You hummed under your breath and forced your gaze away from his tanned arms and up to his eyes. He was obviously a quiet man but in no way did that intimidate you. He seemed more pissed off at your father who had so rudely guided (shoved) you into the room than he did at you.

You cleared your throat. “I won’t fuck you.” This time, his laugh was more discernible. His broad chest rumbled with the sound.

“‘M not expecting you to, not unless you beg,” you made a face at him but Simon continued, “I get deployed most of the time, I’d just like someone to take care of the house and spend my money.”

“So I would be your sugar baby.” He shrugged.

“If that’s what ya wanna call it. Do what cha want, I don’t care. We just need to show up to official events together.” 

You planted your elbows on the table between you and stared into his brown eyes. Simon didn’t waver. “So you wouldn’t have an issue with me getting a job?”

“None.” He answered quickly.

“Going back to school?”

“I’d happily pay for it.” You raised an eyebrow before a devious smirk crossed your lips.

“Get a lover?” His eyes blazed while he mirrored your position, the swivel chair beneath him groaning with his mass as he leaned forwards, planting his massive palms onto the table.

“I’d like to see you try.” Against your will, heat raced through your body, setting your nerves alight with the thrum of arousal.  Simon’s mask shifted and you imagined that he was smirking at you. 

You tamped down the feeling of wetness between your soft thighs, forcing yourself to remember exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. “You’re a lot different than I was expecting.”

He huffed. “So are you. Thought I was getting stuck with some bratty trust fund baby who’s never even set foot in a thrift store.”

“I thought you were gonna be a crusty old man who wanted me to put out so he could feel better about his broken dick and receding hairline.” Silence settled between you before suddenly, you both broke into peels of laughter, an oppressive weight suddenly lifted from the room. 

You were relieved; Simon seemed at least like a decent human being if nothing else and it appeared that you could continue living your life, although without the occasional hook up here and there. But considering how handsome you presumed your almost husband to be, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“I guess we both got lucky didn’t we?” You wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Or just benefitting from the sheer incompetence of the people that thought this was a good idea.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“So, should we do this then?” You asked. Simon rose from his seat and offered you his hand, which you didn’t hesitate to take. As he pulled you to your feet, he uttered:

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

Modern Warfare Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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[delusionsofgrandeur13]

girl, i wanna see you undo it

i wanna see you but you’re not mine.

how the other batboys react to a breakup

18+, mdni !!!!!!

readers can expect: a fem reader, lotttta angst, cursing, mentions of violence, sexually explicit scenes including mentions of penetration, oral, and masturbation. also tim drake being a creep via e-stalking but reader is aware of it and more or less okay with it.

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

your ex boyfriend, bruce wayne, was avoiding alfred.

his butler was insisting on signing him up for therapy, and bruce was dodging him, hard. he didn’t have it in him. he wouldn’t go pay a professional to hear how pathetic he was over the lack of you in his life. couldn’t. he’s found a much more effective way to get out his emotions.

one that involves his fists and a goon’s face.

it was probably cruel, these poor goons were just trying to feed their families, or something, but batman was indifferent.

he was now always nearing dangerously close to breaking his no-kill rule. almost always teetering over that edge. even with his own life. he’d head out in the batsuit, prowling the seediest streets of gotham, hoping, practically praying, for someone to do something illegal. he would put himself in the most deadly situations just to feel alive. wasn’t the healthiest solution, but.

did he care? no.

bruce was numb, unfeeling to those around him. he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, not at the stupid fuck who’d lost the love of his life. he’d lagged behind in his case solving, gordon was growing increasingly more concerned. he was rude to the paparazzi asking after you, almost able to hear your voice in his ear, telling him to be nicer to them, whacking him on the bicep. he’d throw his usual charity galas, sure, but would send dick or jason in his place to showboat. he didn’t have the patience to talk to reporters. didn’t want to show face if you weren’t there on his arm. you always made the social aspect much more bearable. would always help him relieve the stress of it all after the event had ended.

but did he still care about you? yes.

just like when you were dating, bruce taking care of you was second nature.

he wouldn’t dare cancel the flower deliveries he’d set up when the two of you were together. they appeared at your apartment door every week and a half, always something different, but always in your favorite colors. you couldn’t stay mad at them either, the flowers brightened up your kitchen so nicely. when you and bruce were dating, he’d merged your calendars, just so scheduling was easier. you’d since deleted the connection, but he somehow still knows when you have appointments, as you’ll come out of your building’s lobby to a sleek black wayne enterprises car. the chauffeur opening the car door for you silently. you’d take it over the subway every time, even if it was a little awkward.

the dating app you’d downloaded after the breakup kept glitching, never letting you text any of your matches back. if you cared more, you’d contact support, but it was so odd. everything else on your phone works perfectly fine! but you had a gut feeling it had something to do with your ex boyfriend.

bruce might’ve slipped oracle a few bills for her silence over that favor.

he tried not to think about the fact you were already willing to start dating again. he couldn’t fathom being with anyone else. could not possibly wrap his head around it. why would he want anyone when he could have you? when he had already had you? everyone else seemed..lackluster.

it’s the same reason he’d been celibate since the breakup. after you, he was tainted. he didn’t think he’d ever be able to have sex again without thinking of you. especially in his own house. the two of you had fucked on every surface possible, seriously. tried every position.

it’d been difficult just sleeping in his own bed when he used to share it with you. used to make your legs shake as you gripped at the sheets. would never make you beg for anything, eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore. that’s when bruce would press you up against him, holding you up with his huge arms as he pounded into you, his balls slapping against your clit as you whined, barely able to form words.

he’d never been with anyone the way he had with you. so obviously he wasn’t even able to finish with his own hand. it was nothing, nothing compared to the way you felt. his imagination would never have him moaning the way you could. could never make him melt the way you oh so easily were able to, with just a look.

so he was numb. and bruce just figured that’s how he’d stay.

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

your ex boyfriend, jason todd, throws his book across the room, flinching when it thuds against the wall opposite.

annoyed at the surprise romantic subplot, he huffs out a breath from behind his hands. he has to get over his sudden aversion to romance, but it feels impossible after losing you. he can’t watch any of his favorite movies, can only read a select few of his favorite books.

he barely even goes out anymore, mostly to avoid seeing couples on dates. the two of you loved going out together, loved going out to community events like concerts in the park, fairs in the summer. he missed accompanying you to your nephew’s t-ball games, watching you cheer and beam up at him in one of his old baseball hats.

so he barely goes out. he doesn’t have you with him!

he saw an elderly couple strolling in the park the other day. jason had promptly turned in the opposite direction, to avoid crumpling into a ball and sobbing or throwing up into the nearest trash can.

he’d gotten back onto his bike and rode home, going way over the speed limit. he didn’t care about being safe on it anymore, not when you weren’t there to ask him to or be his backpack. he missed the way you’d hold on to him, your thighs bracketing his torso as the bike roared. how at stoplights you’d rub your palms over his chest, grabbing his pecs with your gloved hands. your resulting giggle was muffled through your motorcycle helmet, but it was still the sweetest sound in the world to him.

but jason stopped bothering trying to function out in public after that, only ever really leaving his place for missions and to train at wayne manor.

and boy, had he been training. ever since the two of you had broken up, he’d been working out to the point of exhaustion.

barely peeling himself off of the floor after each workout, always heading straight to the shower to rinse the sweat off while he zoned out into the steam. after his workouts was the only time he would relieve himself. he’d hunch over with one hand propping him up opposite the tiled wall, the other fisted around his cock as he thought of your pretty smile, your gorgeous eyes, the meat of your thighs, the curve of your ass. how you’d clench around his cock with yet another orgasm, moaning his name into the mattress.

he’d finish, hard, his body shuddering, leaving him to be ashamed with himself.

he wasn’t allowed to do this, he wasn’t allowed to think of you like you were still his. all this and yet the pain in his muscles still didn’t ease the pain in his heart, the pain seeping into his bones whenever he thought about you.

jason was still hesitant to be around his siblings.

you had left your perfume in his bathroom, and while he knows it sounds crazy, he's been spraying it on his clothes. he misses the way they would smell like you after you’d borrow them. he still hadn’t touched one of his flannels, the one you loved to steal and loved to see him in. he didn’t see the point in wearing it if you weren’t there to see it.

the last time he’d seen damian, his little brother had loudly asked him why he “smelled girly.”

jason had turned bright red and mumbled something probably unintelligible before briskly walking away, bumping into the doorframe on his way out.

he’s been spraying your perfume on the pillow you’d always use too, snuggling it close to his chest like he used to with you while he fell asleep.

it’s definitely not the same, but it’s the closest jason has to the real thing.

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

tim drake, your ex boyfriend, swiveled in his desk chair, spinning back and forth. the monitors covering the wall above his desk were alive with various video feeds and social media websites.

@user892548276 was viewing your instagram story, a gorgeous selfie of you that tim had already screenshotted. he had plans for that later. @gothamite69 was liking your latest tweet, while @ilovedoggiess couldn’t get enough of your latest tiktok.

he knew he had to switch up the users so you’d think it was bots. you’d figure it out otherwise. too bad he had a thing for smart people.

he nodded, satisfied at the cctv feed of the street your apartment building was on, before throwing a hoodie on over his bare chest. tim strolled into the kitchen, his sweats slung low on his hips. he ran a hand through his hair, using the other to grab the coffee pot to refill his mug.

“hey, tim. whatcha up to?” jason leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.

tim jumped, turning around.

“just some surveillance, nothing much.” he replied, hoping he sounded nonchalant.

“ohh, that case for bats?”

“mmhm.” tim cracked his knuckles, something of a nervous habit he’d developed after the breakup. and his serious lack of sleep.

“well, i won’t keep you. tell y/n i said hi!”

tim flinched at the mention of you as jason left in the direction of the garage. it’s not his brother’s fault. jay had been really busy with the outlaws lately, never home long enough to realize tim hadn’t brought you over in weeks. tim scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. maybe it was the exhaustion muddling things, but tim can’t remember the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep. it was already difficult falling asleep. it only made it worse that every time he did fall asleep he dreamed about you.

but dick had noticed. he had slowly transitioned tim’s assignments to mainly desk work. his older brother was probably worried about him being too tired on the field and getting hurt. but he hadn’t told bruce. tim preferred it that way. he didn’t need a big fuss about if he was okay or his performance level as a hero.

tim grabbed his mug, making his way back to his bedroom. he caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the window, spooking himself. he was on edge so much worse than usual. his reflection stared back at him, his face skinny and his eyebags dark against the pale skin of his cheeks.

tim shook his head, heading into his bedroom. he swayed a little, locking the door behind him. he set his mug on his desk, sitting down in his chair just in time to see you heading down the street.

he stood up so fast his chair rocketed back, hitting the wall. you usually don’t go out on thursday nights. is everything okay??

he types frantically, finding different angles to effectively follow you down the street, physically recoiling to see you stop at a restaurant. just another date.

you stopped, looking around, waving when you spot a blond guy walking towards you. tim enhances the best he can, zooming in on this asshole who thinks he’s good enough for you. tim scoffs out loud at the wrinkled shirt your date has on, looking ridiculous in comparison to your beauty.

the sundress you’re in is one of his favorites, red and white and flowery. he gulps down a sip of coffee at his screen when you turn around, the fabric hugging your body. he blinks, snapping out of it as your date ushers you into the restaurant. tim cracks his knuckles. he reaches for his phone, pulling up your contact. he itches to call you, to pull you out of the date you’re on, to make you think about him instead of that tool you’re with.

but he can’t. he shouldn’t.

he pulls up the screenshot of your story instead, staring at the selfie of you in his favorite sundress. his cock twitches against the fabric of his sweats. he can’t even count how many times he’s had you rutting against him with that dress hiked up to your waist.

he tosses his phone onto his bed, sitting back in his desk chair as he palms his cock, his brain full of thoughts of you.

you pressed up against him in a slinky dress as you slow dance at a wayne gala. waking up in your bed how the two of you fell asleep, naked, limbs intertwined. dancing in a gotham nightclub together, your hair in your face as you throw your arms up and swivel your hips in his direction in your shortest dress. the texts and pictures you’d been sending back and forth after the breakup, unable to let each other go.

tim throws his head back as he finishes, your name on his lips. his body rigid, the warm liquid all over his hands. he cleans himself off, staring into nothing until his computer dings at the motion detected on your street. you’re strutting down the sidewalk, the street empty. before you head inside your building, you stare into the cctv camera across the street. you wave, smiling coyly. tim sits up straighter, holding his breath. you hold up your thumb, and tim groans. that guy??

but you flip your thumb down at the camera, shaking your head. bad date.

tim whoops, beaming.

he shuts down his computer before flopping onto his bed, burrowing under the covers. five minutes later, he’s fast asleep as his coffee grows cold where it sits on his desk.

[csuitebitches]

How to Wake Up Early

I always wanted to be one of those girls who would wake up early, go for a run and be super productive with their mornings. The issue is - i really love sleep. Every time i would start a routine, i would eventually fail. I would wake up to turn the alarm off, think to myself “5 mins more” and boom- it’s suddenly 8:30 am and i need to leave for work in less than 1 hour.

Two videos on YouTube really changed my mind. One was Andrew Huberman’s, and the other was Jihyo, a k-pop star.

I came across Andrew Huberman’s video about dopamine, and somehow, it helped me to understand why the difficulty waking up early is so important. Now I’m no expert of neuroscience, but let me explain to the best of my abilities.

Dopamine is essentially the build up to the reward; it is not the reward. It is the satisfaction and happiness you feel (when your body releases), after you have achieved something that was painful/ required you to struggle a bit. In order to receive this reward, you have to feel pain, because pain and satisfaction are directly related to each other. Satisfaction without pain is useless and does nothing for you essentially.

That got me wondering: for me, waking up early is difficult. It’s painful. I dont want to do it. But if I do it, its my first win of the day. It’s the first challenge I have overcome of that day, and I always do feel amazing after. The dopamine release after the struggle of waking up and winning the battle of not going back to sleep is definitely there. I feel more confident because a) I have done the “right” thing b) selfishly, i can do something so simple that a lot of people struggle with c) it weirdly makes me feel more confident and like I’m doing the first step of being an adult right.

Jihyo’s video was quite random - she did some show where it shows her daily life when she’s not working. Parts of it made me feel like she’s unable to just relax with herself (probably because her body and mind are so used to chaos, performing, her girl group living together for so many years) so she busies herself a lot. I took the positives from the video; she’s extremely disciplined which I admired, she gets her chores done, she’s good at ensuring that her space is truly her space.

So I decided to build a relatively foolproof routine; but mind you, it does require quite a bit of willpower.

I’ve developed a habit of waking of waking up at 5 am. I head straight for a 30-45 minute meditation and then at least an hour long workout. I stack my habits that way; right after meditation, I put on my running shoes. I used to really struggle with waking up, even if I had to wake up late. This is the strategy that worked me, see if it works for you.

1. Reset your space the night before

This makes you feel less stressed in the morning and also genuinely makes you feel like you have your shit together. Put your clothes away, keep your bag in its place, clean up your desk, reorganise your make up and skin care products. You’re going to go to sleep and wake up to a clean space.

Make sure you define both your bedtime and wake up time. My bedtime is 9:30 pm - so i manage my chores, reading, dinner, everything around that.

2. Early dinner

I’ve noticed that early dinners help me sleep better. I’ve built the habit of casually walking for 25-30 minutes post dinner (not right after eating, after about 15 mins). I’m not walking fast to a point where I’m sweating and puffing, I’m casually strolling outside. During this time, I don’t listen to music, interact with anyone or my phone. I use this time to connect with myself and think about whatever I feel like.

3. No devices before sleeping

I don’t want to stimulate myself before sleeping, so I prefer reading before bed. If you don’t like reading, you can instead do your skincare, maybe revise some physical study notes, etc.

4. Using Alarmy app

This app is torture and I swear by it. This little thing makes you a solve a challenge of your choice in order to make the alarm stop, like math problems, puzzles, etc. I chose 5 math problems.

5. Keep your phone across the room

Don’t charge it near your reach. Keep it as away from you as possible.

6. Stand for two minutes after shutting off the alarm

Don’t allow yourself to snooze, or go back to bed. This is the part that really requires you to tell yourself: “i am not going back to sleep. I’m going to wake up and do the things I have to do for my own benefit.” Remember - the states of heaven and hell are not outside of you, they’re inside you. They are mental states. You have to fight with your lazy demon and tell him/her/whoever that NO; we are NOT going back to bed.

I charge my phone across the room so that forces me to walk first thing in the morning. To stop myself from going back to sleep, after i have shut the alarm off, i just stand for 2 minutes. I dont sit, or go back to bed. I stand and tell myself, we’re doing this. We’re going to wake up and have an amazing day.

Your mind is like a child with tantrums and mood swings. Your rational self has to discipline your mind the way a parent would to a child.

7. Turn a small light on

Not something that is jarring or overwhelming, but enough to help you start waking up. I turn my phone’s flashlight on and keep it on my desk.

8. Be consistent, even on weekends

The biggest mistake you can make is not being consistent. Your body doesnt recognise weekends, your mind does. Your body doesn’t know that tomorrow is Monday, so its time to wake up early. By staying consistent (yes, I wake up at 5 am on weekends too), it allows my body to develop its own body clock and not wrecking the system I’ve kept in place.

What do I do if I have a late night?

It really depends. Let’s say I come home relatively early (+2 hours around my bedtime) around 11 pm, and im in bed by 11:30. I’ll wake up somewhere close to 5 am, like 6 am instead. The next day I ensure I’m in bed by the bedtime I’ve kept for myself and wake up at 5 am again.

If I come home really late, like 3 am - i keep my alarm exactly 8 hours from that time. I need to get sleep, but oversleeping is an issue and that wont allow me to wake up early the next day. I want to get enough sleep where im rested for the day, but not excessively. Unfortunately, sleeping so late would definitely mean that i wont be able to fall asleep at my dot 9:30 pm bedtime, but i turn the lights off and get ready to sleep by then anyway, and mentally prepare for my 5 am wake up call.

[captain-joongz]

A little show

Pairing: Min Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: uni au, pure smut with a dash of plot, some fluff, strangers to lovers

Word count: 9.6k

Summary: Who knew that getting off in the uni bathroom to get away from the world's most boring lecture could lead to getting absolutely railed by a cute postgrad student... but third time's the charm, right?

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, masturbation in a public bathroom, sex in a public bathroom (for once they're even using condoms lol), yoongi is a little shit but he'll rock your world, dirty talk, slight choking kink, dom-ish yoongi, who am i kidding he's a fucking beast, fingering, backshots, rough sex, some begging, biting and marking, they literally don't talk to each once before fucking

A/N: oof this was totally unplanned but i cannot be held responsible for anything after seeing the d-day concert movie, this is all yoongi's fault. also it ends surprisingly fluffy for the filth that's contained within

credit for the divider to @saradika-graphics, thank you so much <3

I blinked rapidly, trying to keep myself awake while the lecturer droned on, his nervous slightly stuttering voice carrying through the classroom and lulling everyone into a half-asleep haze. Every Tuesday I had to sit through 90 minutes of this man stumbling through every topic, trying to connect with the classroom full of people while anxiously stepping around the whiteboard projecting his presentation.

I was fully understanding, this was his first year teaching and he still hasn’t shaken off the stage fright, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I had never enrolled into this class and rather spent the time doing literally anything else. It didn’t help that it was an afternoon lecture, dragging on until 5PM, which was usually the time I was already completely fried.

I looked around, noting the other students similarly fighting off sleep or browsing internet on their notebooks, some valiantly still trying to keep their attention on the lecturer and failing miserably. I watched the girl in the row in front of me order a cute sweater, deliberating between two colours for about ten minutes before choosing strawberry pink. I approved.

My body was screaming from being bent over the desk in my boredom, back bent so crooked when I straightened out it cracked vertebra after vertebra like a xylophone from nightmares. I sighed, squirmed around, checked the time. Only 5 minutes have passed since I last looked. I barely suppressed a groan. I couldn’t sit still for longer than a minute, leaning back then pressing forward, folding and unfolding my legs, just trying to find a comfortable position to spend the next 40 minutes in and failing.

After 5 more minutes I reached a boiling point, playing with the thought of just booking it halfway through, but instead my unoccupied brain started entertaining itself by slipping into a territory that it deemed more fun. I started thinking about what I’d rather be doing, where I’d rather be, flushing slightly from embarrassment but surrendering to these thoughts as they presented at least some form of entertainment.

I made it barely 10 minutes before I was so painfully wet and aroused I definitely couldn’t make it through the lecture anymore. I had to do something about it, now.

I wasn’t shy about the fact that I occasionally enjoyed wanking in some more public spaces like bathrooms, the thrill of someone possibly coming in and having to keep quiet was getting to me. I didn’t indulge in it often, just when I got really bored and my brain immediately went to “let’s get off to entertain ourselves” instead of doing something normal like other people, just when I was sure there was only a slight chance of someone actually coming across me.

But thinking all that, I realised I’d never taken such liberty while I was in the uni building, probably just thinking about getting out of there as quickly as possible, but fuck, this lecture was getting to me. Somehow it felt more morally wrong than some other random ass places, but I deliberated on it. We were in a secluded corner of the building, it was really high and there was no elevator, the classrooms were smaller and above there was construction going on, which resulted in this place usually being totally deserted except for those unlucky souls that still had lectures here. I was pretty sure there was no other class going on here right now and the chance of someone from here going to the bathroom at the same time was slim.

On a whim I decided to take the risk, my body heating up knowing I was about to give in to the need. I quickly stood up, grabbed my phone and made my way outside. The hall was empty except for a single guy sitting by a table directly across from the bathroom door, but I figured it would be fine. He was wearing headphones anyway, head bobbing to a beat I couldn’t hear and fingers nimbly clicking something on his laptop and toying with the mouse. I slipped past him quietly and went straight for the bathroom door.

Inside was quiet, as if cut off from the outside world, the only two toilets both empty and door wide open. I went to the further one, not that it made much difference with how small the room was, but it still made me feel a little better.

With the door closed and locked for better feeling of security, the excitement finally got the better of me and I rushed to stick my hand into my skirt to pull down my tights and panties, fingers immediately finding the slick folds.

I bent over, the stall small enough to allow me to lean on my elbow on one wall while my ass pressed into the other, fingers going straight for my clit and wasting no time in pressing on it and circling it desperately. Quiet sighs of pleasure spilled from my lips, body trembling with pleasure heightened by the fact I was in a public space.

I barely even touched myself and I could already feel how fucked out I was getting, knees shaking and the pleasure mounting dangerously fast. In my mind I imagined myself bent over the toilet and a warm presence behind me, getting fucked good, strong hands gripping my waist hard, pulling me back on the cock like a toy while telling me to shut up, laughing at me while I bit my fist trying not to let the whole university know how good I was feeling.

My orgasm was approaching embarrassingly quickly, the pad of my finger furiously toying with my clit while my knees were shaking with the mounting pressure waiting to snap. I was so wet I felt my juices dripping down my thighs, dripping onto my hand and making my finger slip all the time as I tried to get myself to cum as fast as possible.

That didn’t seem to be that hard as I could already feel myself hurling towards the edge, cunt spasming around nothing, desperately wishing to be filled, as my ass pressed harder into the wall and my back arched. I could feel a little cramp starting up in my wrist, but I didn’t let up, keeping the pace on my clit as I felt the start of an intense orgasm, the sensation bursting through me like a tornado and I let out a moan muffled into the crook of my elbow. My knees buckled with the force of it and thank god that I was still leaning on the wall otherwise I would have for sure fallen down.

My whole body relaxed, thighs and knees still shaking as I tried to get my breathing back under control. The bathroom was suddenly eerily quiet now that there wasn’t blood rushing through my ears and I wasn’t blinded by my own ecstasy, and I flushed in embarrassment but still couldn’t stop myself from a little joyful giggle leaving my lips in breathless wonder.

I took my time getting myself back into order, cleaning myself up and righting my clothes again. I was in there for only about 15 minutes, so there was no reason to rush. I did notice that my legs had a little boneless swagger to them as I suddenly went from high strung in boredom to perhaps a little too relaxed, a stupid little grin pulling at my lips as I swayed my hips leisurely.

But that changed the moment I walked back out onto the hall. The second I was out of the bathroom I immediately found myself in direct eye contact with the sole student sitting out there. I only had a second to note he was very attractive before I realised he was watching me with the air of amusement, eyes darkening and a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back and gave me a once over.

I flushed under his heavy gaze, freezing like a deer in headlights. It was obvious he knew what I’d been doing in there, something in my demeanour must have given me away. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes lingering on my hands clutched together before amused grin set onto his face.

I broke out from the daze suddenly and set into motion again, escaping his hungry eyes and entertained aura, hurriedly scurrying back into the classroom where I sat stewing in my own shame for the rest of the lecture.

When I walked back out after we were dismissed, the hall was empty, to my great relief.

“Come on, you should come tomorrow at least for a little bit,” Jungkook whined, pouting at me and hands tugging at the sleeve of my shirt. I gave him an unimpressed look, firmly resistant to his charms, which probably made me the only person in the world that was capable of that.

“I told you Kookie, I’m not feeling it this week,” I said for the fifteenth time that day, “Maybe next time.” The dance major cutely stomped his foot and tugged on my sleeve again. His wild hair flailed around with the wind, probably getting into his eyes, but he ignored it in favour of annoying me.

“But the next party won’t be for god knows how long,” he whined, giving me his ultimate puppy eyes and blinking cutely, “Come on Y/N, you need to let go a little.” Now, I would lie if I wasn’t swayed a little bit, but the exhaustion was weighing on me and I was looking forward to just having a quiet evening in ignoring all of my responsibilities and pretending I have no essays due and there aren’t any deadlines I was missing.

“I’m sorry Kook,” I softened my tone a little to convey I truly was apologetic, smiling at him gently, “I promise I will definitely go to the next party.” The man brightened and straightened out, letting go of me and setting out on the sidewalk leading out of the campus.

“I have your word! No takebacks!” he shouted excitedly and I ran after him laughing. I knew he wouldn’t let me forget it, so I just resigned myself to going to the next party even though I quite disliked them. I had nothing against partying, but I just preferred to go clubbing and dancing, not spend my evening sitting on a stained couch in someone’s living room listening to total strangers get zoinked out of their minds and talk about assignments. But I would go for Kookie. Just once though.

We walked side by side for a moment, just enjoying the awakening spring. It was still pretty cold outside, but the sun shone more often and the temperatures were enough to wear just a light jacket instead of coats with shawls, so I soaked in the atmosphere. People were beginning to filter outside, sitting around on the green grass, talking and studying, and it was nice to see.

Looking around I suddenly froze, standing still in the middle of the path while Kook continued for a few more strides before he realised I wasn’t following. He gave me a confused look, but I was already fighting an embarrassed blush and didn’t pay him much mind.

On the grass by a big tree was quite a familiar looking student, his long wavy dark hair similarly pushed around by the wind as he bobbed his head to music presumably playing in his headphones. He was wearing all black, standing out as a sore thumb in contrast with the green lit up by sun, but he was fully engrossed in his laptop and paid no attention to anything going on around him.

“Hey Kookie,” I called out to my friend, finally looking at him, “Do you know who that guy is?” I discreetly pointed in the man’s direction, hoping I wouldn’t draw anybody’s attention by being a fucking weirdo. Jungkook was a social butterfly despite his shyness and he seemed to know half the university (probably a side effect of hanging out with Jimin all the time), even people from majors that had nothing in common with his, so I was pretty confident he would be able to correctly identify the menace of my life.

“Who?” he started confusedly looking around, eyes jumping around the students just living their lives. I tried pointing again, hoping he would see where I meant without having to outstretch my arm fully. “There, that guy in the black sitting under that tree.”

Jungkook’s eyes finally locked onto his figure and a recognition immediately lit up his face. I chuckled. Of course he did know him.

“Oh sure!” he exclaimed, “that’s Yoongi hyung. He’s a little bit university famous.” I looked at him in shock and then glanced back to the expressionless man sitting on the lawn.

“Famous? Famous how?” I pressed for more info, this time it was me who way playing up the cute act, hanging onto Jungkook’s arm and batting my eyelashes at him. He gave me an amused smile, seeing right through me.

“Well, he’s handsome and yet cool and mysterious, girls love that shit,” Kook played it up, flipping his hair sassily and fluttering his lashes, making me scoff at him amusedly, “Plus he’s a rapper and sometimes performs in the local clubs and bars, so he’s pretty popular.” I turned us away from the black-clad student who was still unaware of anything going on around him and pulled us back onto the path.

“I see,” I hummed noncommittally, not giving him any indication of why I would suddenly ask about Yoongi, but based on the amused looks Kookie was giving me, he must have had an inkling why the sudden interest.

“He’s actually in the same year as Joonie hyung, they’re interning together at the same studio,” Jungkook continued, keeping his eyes on me to gauge my reaction. I hummed again, not saying anything anymore and just sending him teasing looks.

“If you come to the party tomorrow, Yoongi’s for sure gonna be there,” Kookie mentioned seemingly casually, watching me out of the corner of his eyes as he pretended he didn’t care mischievously.

I only shot him a glare and pulled on his arm, leading us out of the campus towards the café where we were supposed to meet Jimin and Tae, Kookie’s friends who graciously adopted me into the group after I got befriended by the shy giant.

For the rest of the afternoon I could feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, his lips pulled into a barely concealed smile as he fought the impulse to tease me in front of the boys about what he must have thought was an embarrassing crush on the school’s resident heartthrob. I ostentatiously ignored him, only shooting him warning glares here and there to which he always responded with shit-eating grins. Jimin and Tae kept giving us confused and entertained glances but ultimately decided against asking what was going on, much to my relief.

God, if they only knew the truth about why Yoongi even was on my radar in the first place.

The next Tuesday I walked into the classroom again, fully determined to sit through the whole lecture and not move even an inch from my seat. This time I chose a chair in the back, where I could comfortably be on my phone and distract myself from the thoughts of last week, from the attractive man and his smirks. I wondered whether he was sitting there again today, listening to what I now assumed was his own music, laid-back and effortlessly hot. I began to squirm in my seat again, but I quickly tempered it down, scolding myself gently for having such a one-track mind.

Once again I made it through an hour and with 30 minutes left, I began to face a crisis. The boredom was getting to me and I needed to use the toilet, my bladder screaming for help and making me shift around on my chair in discomfort. I thought that I couldn’t really face the bathroom without getting extremely embarrassed, but in the end I lost the battle to nature and got up.

Only, stepping onto the hall, I looked up and lo and behold, there he was – Yoongi sitting peacefully by the window and clicking away on his computer, his big black headphones firmly on as always. The movement by the door must have registered at the corner of his field of vision and he eagerly looked up.

The moment his eyes laid on my figure, frozen once again in the hallway and heating up under his stare, he smirked widely like he won the lottery, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the chair. With his gaze following my every movement I hurried into the bathroom, cheeks blushing and knees turning into jelly.

On instinct I went to the furthest stall and locked the door behind me shakily. Having taken care of my business I paced the stall nervously, already feeling myself bend under the tension. I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, knowing Yoongi was sitting outside fully aware of the nature of my little trip last week, but his demeanour, the winning smirk and dark eyes made me want to break that promise.

Embarrassingly enough, I could already feel myself getting wet again and I begun to lose the conviction to just walk away and go sit back into the classroom for another terrible 30 minutes. The thoughts of Yoongi waiting in the hallway, hungrily watching the bathroom door and thinking about me with my hand up my skirt were getting to me and I finally broke.

Swiftly pulling down my tights and underwear I didn’t waste anymore time in sticking my fingers between my folds, gathering the wetness and rubbing the swollen bud begging for attention. I couldn’t hold back the little sighs and moans of pleasure, my body hyper-sensitive and the lust coursing through my body more intense than I could remember ever feeling.

It didn’t take long before I was choking on the moans I desperately tried to stifle on my arm, knees shaking and close to buckling and pussy clenching on nothing, feeling so empty and so desperate for anything I was losing my mind.

And if I was deliriously cumming on my fingers only a moment later while imagining Yoongi fucking me roughly in the uni bathroom, that was only my business.

With trembling fingers I quickly cleaned myself up, blushing when I realised I was so wet the whole top of my thighs was covered in my sticky juices. Putting myself back together I rushed to scrub my hands clean and soon I was standing behind the door, taking a few deep breaths but the excitement still getting the better of me and I eagerly walked out, expectantly looking for Yoongi’s reaction with a little sly smile on my face.

And I was not disappointed.

The second I stepped out, his head snapped in my direction, confirming that he really was waiting for me to come out. His cheeks were also lightly dusted with pink from excitement, his eyes as dark as midnight with his pupils blown wide with lust. He immediately licked his lips, eyes raking over my form and taking in the shaky knees and trembling hips, the blush on my face, both from recovering from an orgasm and shyness, hair a mess and lips bitten red.

Yoongi suddenly stood up and I realised that he packed up his laptop and headphones, all his stuff probably stuffed into his neat backpack that hung off of his shoulder. He side-stepped from the table and leisurely made his way towards me, black dress pants nicely hugging his form, white tee tucked into them accentuating his slim waist and a thick black oversized shirt hanging off him in a way that made me slightly feral.

But there was something else he wanted me to see, and I clocked it as soon as he got close enough, cheeks absolutely blazing red and my pussy valiantly clenching again even after such an orgasm.

He was hard. When my eyes slid down again to appreciate how the pants fit him so perfectly they landed on an unmistakable bulge, the front of his pants tenting in a tell-tale sign of how much he enjoyed my little show. I gasped and suddenly all confidence sapped from my body and I was left aroused and aching, willing to do anything. He watched me with a mix of condescension and arousal, knowing how easily he won over me and loving how receptive I was to just a light teasing, how the blush spread down to my collarbones and my mouth opened subconsciously, eyes glazing over and brain no doubt filled only with the thoughts of his cock.

But with an arrogant smirk he passed right by me, heading for the door of the men’s bathroom. Only when he was halfway through the door, he threw me a look over his shoulder, winking at me and his grin turned wild and rough. Then he disappeared inside.

I was left in the hall gasping for air, body ravaged by tension and lust and head full of images of Yoongi standing in the bathroom stall and hurriedly yanking at his cock, the red tip wet with pre-cum, the liquid getting smeared all over his length by his eager hands trying to get himself to completion as fast as possible. I imagined him grunting, head thrown back and mouth open but still curled into that annoying smirk.

A door opened somewhere a little down the hall and a mess of voices flowed out, startling me out of my reverie and I realised I had been just standing in the middle of an empty hallway staring dumbly at the bathroom door. I felt the bashfulness catch up to me and it sprung me into movement. With one last look at the door I scurried back into the class and spent the last 15 minutes staring into the wall with flaming red cheeks.

When I walked out after the class ended, Yoongi was back to his place, sitting completely relaxed into his chair and grinning lazily when his eyes caught mine. I felt my whole body jerk with a bolt of lust, but I ducked my head and quickly ran down the stairs, rushing out of the building and towards the café where the boys were already waiting for me. Jungkook stared at my flustered face with an unreadable expression, and I let him think whatever he wanted, too preoccupied with fighting the image of Yoongi cumming all over himself just twenty minutes ago thinking of me masturbating just a wall over.

Later that week, after many orgasms, much deliberating and a whole lot of shame I decided I needed to hear his voice. I kept thinking back to how Jungkook mentioned he was in the same year and major as Namjoon and that he was a performing rapper, and I knew Namjoon put his stuff online. And if Yoongi really was a known name in the bar scene around the area, he must have too.

Asking Jungkook about his stage name would be too humiliating, so instead I decided to rake through Namjoon’s insta because he must have his friend’s account there somewhere, hoping Yoongi would forgive me a little social media stalking. Firstly I scrolled through Namjoon’s posted pictures, but he rarely tagged other people. Most of his pictures were of artworks or Joonie doing something silly and living his best life.

So I switched to the pictures that others tagged you in. It took a while, but I was able to see that most of them were from this guy Hoseok that I had seen around but haven’t really spoken to. I knew he was a double major because he did dance like Jungkook and Jimin, but I had never realised he was also in the same major and year as Namjoon. He seemed to post a lot from the studio, often with Joon hunched over his computer in the background, but after some digging I was able to find one that had them all in it.

It was also from the studio, it must have been the one the boys were interning in, presumably all of them together. Hoseok’s face was grinning in one corner as he was taking the selfie and even though it was dark, you could clearly see two men sitting at a table together and discussing something with serious looks on their faces. A laptop sat between them and one of them had his hand lying on the pause button. It was Yoongi and Joon. Only their side-profile could be seen in the photo, but it was unmistakably them. The description only said “hyung is scolding joonie again” but tapping on the photo it showed that both of them had been tagged. Bingo.

Yoongi’s account was full of mostly dark pictures, some from the same studio and some were of him on stage mid performance, but there weren’t as many as Namjoon and Hoseok had on theirs. I scanned some of them quickly, but even though he looked super hot and the photos were extremely well done, it wasn’t the reason of my searching.

I checked the name of the account again – it was Agust D. And there was a link in the bio. Without thinking I clicked it and was transported to Spotify, Yoongi’s entire career laid out clearly in front of my eyes in the form of three albums.

I spent the evening listening to them, letting his music wash over me and losing myself in the beat and the lyrics. No matter what I was looking for when I wanted to listen to it, I got everything and more. I suddenly understood all those star-struck students that according to Kookie trailed hopelessly after Yoongi, the man had a real talent and an aura that just sucked you right in, like a fly getting trapped in a very smug spider’s web.

His voice was surprisingly lower and rougher than I anticipated, the songs had no shortage of him growling or screaming, emotions pouring off of his voice in waves that just swept me along.

And I couldn’t wait to find out what he sounded like when he was getting his rocks off.

The next Tuesday I climbed those 4 floors of stairs confidently, wearing a short skirt and cute heels, gingerly picking a spot in the class that would allow me to slink off in the middle of the lecture again. Yoongi wasn’t sitting in the hallway yet, but I believed he’d show up soon enough.

The anticipation was coursing through my veins, making me jittery and giggly. From the corner of my eye I could see a classmate giving me a strange look, mouthing at me if I was okay and I nodded hurriedly, giving her a smile, hoping she wouldn’t pay any attention to me when I had to leave.

If the two lectures before were unbearable, this one took the cake. I could barely contain myself, squirming in my seat, trying to make myself comfortable while I checked the time every 2 minutes, wishing half the lecture had already gone by and always getting disappointed at how early it still was.

My mind was going into overdrive, feeding me ideas and fantasies, replaying last week’s encounter on loop. I couldn’t see anything except for Yoongi’s lopsided smirk planted firmly on his face as he made his way into the bathroom to jerk off, his face as he came thinking of me.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and I was absolutely losing my mind, thighs pressing together and hands tangled into the fabric of my skirt, bunching up the material. I made it 40 minutes before I grabbed my phone and sneaked out onto the hall.

Yoongi’s head shot up immediately, already sitting by the window waiting for something. This time I didn’t freeze up, instead I was the one who smirked at him and confidently walked up straight to the bathroom. He watched me raptly, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he leaned forward on the table. Couldn’t help but notice that today he didn’t have his laptop out, he just sat there and watched me, but I moved forward not giving it much thought.

I raised my eyebrow at him and winked right as I disappeared into the bathroom, the door falling shut behind me and sealing me inside in the calm and quietness. I rushed to the furthest stall, shutting the door behind me but not bothering to lock, too horny to think clearly.

I couldn’t believe this was getting to me so much, but the moment I managed to slide my tights low enough and ran my hand through my folds, I was already so wet it was astonishing. I laughed at myself in disbelief as my finger found my clit and circled it. Who would have thought this would become my weekly routine, jerking off in the bathroom while a guy I’ve never even talked to sat outside smirking.

But not today it turned out.

Just as pleasure began coursing through me at the ministrations, pleasured sighs leaving me freely as I got cocky not getting caught until now and the squelching of my wet pussy getting played with rang through the quiet space. Then, I heard the door open.

Immediately I froze, hand stopping but still stuck between my thighs. Slow silent footsteps made their way towards the stalls and I hoped whoever this person was, they would take care of their business quickly and leave right afterwards, but they seemed to be taking this in a really leisurely manner. I was holding my breath, counting the seconds, ears straining to catch any kind of sound coming from them.

“Don’t stop on my account, kitten,” a gruff voice suddenly piped up, the footsteps stopping right outside my stall. Relief and lust rushed through me at his appearance and I couldn’t hold back a desperate whimper, the fingers on my clit going back to work. There was a chuckle behind the door and then he was pushing it open.

I must have been a sight, underwear and tights pushed under my ass, skirt bunched up around my hips, bent over with my back arched leaning on the wall as I desperately played with myself, mouth open and eyes glazed over.

Yoongi’s eyes raked over me and he hummed lowly in appreciation. He made his way in lazily, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning on it and just watching for a moment. I tried to put on a show for him but I was truly gone, the three weeks of built up arousal carrying me high and my body racing towards the edge in record speed.

I watched him back, watched his dark hungry eyes, his tongue peeking out to wet his upper lip, the way his hands flexed by his hips, twitching with the need to grab himself. I could see his bulge clearly, the tight black jeans barely able to contain it, and I was going crazy for it. When my eyes jumped back to Yoongi’s face, he was smirking at me knowing where I’d been staring at. What I wanted.

Suddenly he pushed himself away from the door and stepped towards me. Startled I straightened out, fingers stopping once more. He descended on me hurriedly, pushing me into the wall with his body, caging me in. Our faces were suddenly only breaths apart and Yoongi took his sweet time, teasing me by getting closer and pulling away with a laugh. I whined, my clean hand coming up to tangle in his hair and he let me, watching me from above as I writhed against him, wordlessly begging for any touch from him.

Finally, he took pity on me and with a cocky grin smashed our mouths together, immediately prying my lips open and licking inside, claiming me roughly and thoroughly. I moaned into him, body arching into his and he pressed closer, pressing me into the wall again and our bodies touched from our heads to our toes. His hand went to my neck, wrapping around it lightly and grabbing my jaw to keep me still as he kissed me with all his might.

Now with both hands I grabbed onto him, one going around his neck and one around the waist, and he broke the kiss to laugh at me quietly, turning my face with his hand so he could kiss around my ear.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that kitten?” he whispered, voice gravelly with arousal, “Coming in here every week… playing with your pussy… making yourself cum… and then coming out and giving me those eyes, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and yet playing so coy and shy… you’re such a minx.” I tensed, eyes rolling back as he started nipping at my neck, laying wet kisses and bites all over any skin he could get to.

I didn’t even notice when Yoongi’s other hand found its way between my legs, fingers roughly pressing onto my clit. I choked on a moan, head falling back and hitting the tiled wall, hands flexing into his clothes. He bit my shoulder enough to leave a mark, chuckling at my loud keening before pressing his lips to the shell of my ear again.

“Last week I thought I would go crazy sitting there,” Yoongi continued, almost growling into my skin as his fingers twisted meanly around my sensitive nub making me tremble, “I couldn’t focus on anything, not when I knew how much you wanted to give me a show. Almost went to jerk off at least five times but I held off until you came out to repay the favour.” He chuckled again, hand tightening a little on my neck as he leaned back to look at me.

I tried to get my breathing under control but I was stuck with my mouth hanging open, noises flowing out freely as if this wasn’t a public bathroom. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind though, quite happy to watch me come undone just from a little teasing.

“It was the same for me,” I whispered, looking into his eyes and this time playing coy very much on purpose, licking my lips and batting my lashes to play it up, “Had to sit through the rest of the lecture while thinking about you in here. Was hell.” He snickered darkly, immediately catching onto my act.

He hummed, finger dragging across my lower lip, fascinated for a moment before he snapped back to himself, mouth pulling back into a smirk.

Without a warning his other hand moved lower, fingers tracing my entrance before two of them plunged inside. I moaned out, body seizing up at the sensation. I was wet enough that they went easy but there was still the pleasurable sting of being stretched out on two digits.

Yoongi certainly wasn’t the type to waste time. He hummed satisfied, watching me with those dark eyes, testing the waters with a few shallow pumps before he started finger-fucking me earnestly. Just like everything else, even now he wasn’t gentle, flicking his wrist up and pushing his fingers as far as they could go, curling them to scratch at that one magic spot that had me seeing white.

I whimpered loudly, hips gyrating to ride the motions, already feeling the stirrings of a powerful orgasm lurking on the horizon. Like a shark sensing blood Yoongi chuckled and twisted his fingers on the next thrust. I keened, hands flying up to tangle into his clothes and hair, hips jerking and chasing after the feeling.

“So selfish, kitten,” he tsked at me, still keeping his cool even though I could see his erection attempting to burst through his pants, “only thinking about your own pleasure. No respect for others, huh?”

My first instinct was to apologise, but I got choked up on the words when he started up his pace again, so instead I decided to be a woman of action. Slowly trailing my hand down his torso, feeling him up on the way, grabbing onto his chest, his slim waist, until I finally reached his crotch.

With the first touch he let out a light groan, fingers stuttering and eyes falling shut for a moment, then he was suddenly back onto me, kissing me wildly while his hips fucked into my hand, letting out gruff groans and sighs into my mouth, which I accepted gladly.

For a moment we were just lost in each other, not caring about the noise or the place, just pleasuring each other, touching, feeling. Then Yoongi was tearing away, hand flying from my pussy and stepping back. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that left me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his amused face.

Instead he grabbed me and turned me around until I was leaning on my arms on the wall behind the toilet, one leg up on the closed lid for support. I shivered in anticipation, knowing what would come next. Yoongi was moving about behind me, clothes shuffling and rustling. Then his sweater hit the floor. I turned my head to watch just as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver packet. He grinned at me and winked when catching my eye, then reached out to me, condom in hand.

“Can you hold this for me for a second, darling?” he asked as sweet as honey, but there was something devilish twinkling in his eye.

“Of course,” I answered him. I meant for it to be sassy, but it came out on a breathless whisper as I took the packet and watched Yoongi’s hand run through his hair before setting on his belt. He unbuckled slowly, attentively watching my eyes soaking in every second as he pulled the belt through the buckle and out of his pants. Fingers toyed with the button before popping it open, tongue wetting his lips and hungry eyes eating me up. I trembled under his attention but held still, not even breathing as his fingers grasped at the zipper and pulled it down.

Tired of playing, he pulled his tee out and put the hem between his teeth, revealing his taunt stomach and pretty waist. Winking at my obvious gawking, he finally pulled his jeans and underwear down, his erection springing free. The sight of him shocked me to my core, standing there with his t-shirt in his mouth and a smug glint his eye while he leisurely fisted his flushed red cock. I could feel my pussy gushing and clenching around nothing, desperately calling to be filled up.

Yoongi plucked the condom packet from my limp hand and made a quick work of putting it on. He lined up behind me, hands finding my waist to pull my tee from the skirt, making contact with bare skin.

I gasped when I felt his cock slide through my wet folds, but quickly keened and arched into it. One of Yoongi’s hands tightened on my waist while the other disappeared to grab his length.

“Easy now,” he chuckled at my trembling body, my hips chasing after his cock and trying to entice him into fucking me.

“Please,” was all I could get out of my mouth, “please Yoongi, just fuck me.” His hand tightened again and there was a beat of silence before he snickered.

“So you naughty girl do know my name,” he teased and I froze for a moment, embarrassment flooding me. I turned to him again to see him smirking at me, tee hanging off of his form. “I heard it around,” I whispered sheepishly. He hummed, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Not really fair, is it?” he teased some more, a mischievous expression taking over his face, “Is it, Y/N?” I narrowed my eyes at him jokingly and he grinned.

“Now, what’s your excuse, mister?” I asked him sassily, “Not like I’m a campus celebrity… unlike someone here.”

“May or may not have asked Jungkook cause I saw you two hanging out,” Yoongi admitted easily, laughing at me when I paled.

“God,” I groaned, “No wonder he was getting so cheeky whenever you came up in a conversation.” At that Yoongi raised his eyebrow again, amusement dancing on his features.

“That happen often?” he asked impishly, leaning against me and once again letting me feel his cock sliding through my folds. I gasped a little and blushed even darker. “You’re Namjoon’s friend, so occasionally,” I bold-faced lied straight through my teeth and from the look on Yoongi’s face, he was aware but let me get away with it.

There was a moment of silence where we just stared at each other, mischievous little smiles on our faces, and then Yoongi hummed, pulling his tee back up to his lips and biting down on it. I shuddered, the lust once again taking the fore-front seat in my mind. This time he didn’t stop for anything, grabbing himself with one hand and the other going to my waist to hold me in place.

The tip of his cock circled my entrance and I subconsciously clenched, a gush of wetness leaving me. I whined and wriggled in his hold and he tsked at me again before sliding inside in a single thrust with a light condescending giggle. I groaned, pussy immediately squeezing around the intrusion, feeling every inch and ridge. There was a hitch in Yoongi’s breaths, both hands migrating to my waist and grabbing so tightly I felt his nails digging into my skin.

He barely gave me a second before pulling out and thrusting in again, setting a rough pace from the get-go. All I could do was bury my head into the crook of my elbow, biting into the soft flesh there to keep myself from moaning loud enough for the whole school to hear.

The stretch of his cock was exquisite, the slight burn heating up my already sensitive body to a near boiling point. With every thrust there was a tiny twinge of pain that left me breathless, desperate to muffle any noise that could cut our meeting short.

Yoongi didn’t seem to care much about noise, hands on my waist mercilessly pulling me back onto his cock and fucking me with so much force I felt my whole body twitching with the overdrive of sensation, the slapping of our sweaty bodies against each other and the wet squelch of my weeping pussy getting filled to the brim loud enough to substitute for our own sounds. He was grunting gruffly, the noise seemingly leaving his mouth involuntarily and getting muffled by the tee.

I turned my head slightly to look at him, and god, he was a vision with his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and face the picture of ecstasy, body rippling with the motion of his pumping hips and strong veiny arms and hands gripping onto me hard enough to go red with the force. I couldn’t hold back the moan and he toppled his head forward to look at me, a tired self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips at seeing my fucked out expression.

“Take your fucking shirt off,” I gasped out breathlessly, chuckling at his teasingly narrowed eyes, “You have such a dirty fucking mouth, can’t stand for it being shut.” Yoongi laughed, throwing his head back in delight. Within seconds the piece of fabric joined his sweater on the floor and he leaned forward, hands picking on my own shirt with a mischievous expression.

“Shouldn’t you even the score?” I loved how deep and gravelly his voice became with arousal, even when he was being mischievous I could hear the growl in it and it drove me crazy. I scrambled to listen to him, tearing the shirt off and flinging it behind us. Yoongi’s hands immediately travelled up, playing with the edge of my bra before swiftly undoing the clasp and dragging it off. I gasped lightly at his skilled handiwork and giggled, but Yoongi was already preoccupied with kissing along my shoulders and shoulder blades.

His hips angled better and then jerked them into me again, cock sliding even deeper now. I groaned and arched into him and that was his que to start fucking in earnest again. In this position I could hear the strained sighs and grunts every time he slid back inside, the rough deep pace taking a toll on us both.

The back of my thighs was burning from standing bent over and straining my hips for this long and it added to the mix of feelings running through me. I could feel my orgasm catching up with me, Yoongi’s cock now hitting a spot on every thrust that made me want to scream with pleasure, sliding in so deep I swore I could feel him in my belly and it was so good my head was spinning, and all that came out of me were raspy moans. Yoongi bit into my shoulder, grunts raising in octave, hands pulling at my body to meet his thrusts.

I prayed to god that the walls were thick enough to keep the sounds from escaping onto the hall. I knew that if someone stepped inside now, there would be no masking what was going on, we were both too gone for that, just chasing our pleasure.

I was so close, the weeks of build up and the foreplay and teasing making me delirious. There in that moment I just wished I could stay like this forever, to feel this delicious ecstasy for the rest of my life, but I was so close to snapping I just needed a little extra push even though my head was so high in the clouds wishing to be never brought down.

“Please Yoongi, god,” I choked out, “please, I’m so close.” That seemed to snap Yoongi back into his attitude again, but he couldn’t hide how affected he was too.

“What do you want, kitten, mm?” even he couldn’t talk properly through the gasps and grunts, but still tried to sound as cocky as possible. Instead of talking I grabbed his hand and brought it down between my legs.

Yoongi pressed himself to me closer to make the reach more comfortable, his chest glued to my back as he nibbled on my neck and shoulder, giggling breathlessly when his naughty fingers started drawing tight quick circles on my clit.

My moans got louder, the pumping of his cock, hitting so deep inside of me, combined with the stimulation on my clit made me seize up, whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook me. Yoongi groaned every time my pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper and closer to his own end. Both of us were so sweaty we stuck to each other, the temperature in the stall rising so high it was almost unbearable.

“Yoongi,” I gasped out, just repeating his name breathlessly as I barrelled to the climax, feeling the beginning of the tingling washing over me, pussy seizing up. Yoongi’s hands were like vice on my body, my waist littered with red indents of his nails, some already purpling slightly.

“I know, kitten,” he whispered into my neck, “Me too, you can let go.” The moment those words left his mouth my orgasm exploded over me, enough to blind me and send my ears ringing for a few moments. I let out a raspy groan, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wall and if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s hold on me, my buckling knees would have sent me crashing to the floor, but all I could focus on was the euphoria blooming through my body, flooding all my senses with so much pleasure I could barely fully register anything that was going on. Yoongi fucked me through the peak, hips losing rhythm and all decorum until finally he gave last few hard pumps and stilled too, coming with a drawn-out moan, hands pushing our hips as close together as they could go.

We clung onto each other as we attempted to catch our breaths again. I felt my arms slipping on the tiles as the pleasant ache started setting into my hips and lower tummy, legs screaming for a reprieve as my brain slowly came back into function. I blinked my eyes open, not even realising I had closed them at some point. Yoongi was basically hugging me from the behind, draped over me just breathing deep, faced smushed into my shoulder blade. Then he chuckled.

“You think we’re still in the clear?” he laughed, “How thick do you think these walls are?” A giggle tumbled out of me and before I knew it we were both laughing breathlessly, bodies still pressed close.

“This is officially the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” I told him, shaky knees trying to keep my weight as I started to gather my wits. Yoongi let me go easily and helped me find my balance as my whole body ached, back killing me after Yoongi railed me like a madman.

“And here I was, thinking this was just regular Tuesday for you.”

I slapped his shoulder lightly, but the blush on my cheeks revealed that I couldn’t really say anything to that. His amused snickers told me he was well aware, so I just stood there and watched him slip the condom off, tie it up and then just awkwardly stand there not knowing what to do with it.

“Guess I can’t just casually drop a used condom into a bin in the girl’s bathroom,” he stated nonchalantly, and I giggled at him. In the end he grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and hid it inside, putting in on the closed bin lid for the moment.

Next Yoongi swiftly cleaned himself up and pulled his jeans back on, but when I reached for the paper to do the same, he swatted my hand away. With a much gentler smile he got it himself, kneeled in front of me and started cleaning me up, gently wiping away the mess left on my centre and thighs. I watched him attentively, the soft look on his face making him look boyish, only the naughty glint in his eyes reminiscent of the man he was just a few minutes ago.

When our eyes met, I returned the smile, hand instinctively going to tangle into his hair. I meant to just card it through the dark wavy locks, but the heated look he gave me had me shuddering again, fingers tightening. Yoongi smirked, tongue licking at his lips sensually just inches away from my exposed pussy.

“Still thinking about naughty things, kitten?” he said, voice dark and deep, “Like the sight of me on my knees for you?” I hesitated for a moment before untangling my hand and gently pushing him with a blush.

“I see,” Yoongi hummed thoughtfully, “maybe next time then.” With a wink he stood up and when I didn’t move he motioned for me to start dressing up with a smirk, handing me my bra and t-shirt. We slowly clambered out of the stall, stretching and trying to get all the body parts to working order again.

“How about,” Yoongi drawled out, self-assured and with the attitude of someone who just got their rocks off, “you ditch the lecture you never really go to anyway and we grab something to eat?” I stopped in my tracks, shocked but pleasantly surprised at his offer. I checked the time quickly.

“There’s only like 10 minutes of class left, I can sit that out and then we can go,” I answered, smiling softly, but Yoongi smirked with all his might, something devilish glinting over his face. He leaned towards me, grabbing me lightly by my shoulders.

“Not looking like that, you can’t,” he whispered meanly and spun me around. The moment I laid my eyes on myself in the mirror, I gasped. Yoongi was standing behind me grinning like the devil admiring his handiwork. My neck was littered in little bites and spots ranging from dark pink across red all the way to purple. Yoongi let out a satisfied hum, almost sounding like a purr, his hands going across my waist to pull at the tee tucked into my skirt to reveal more reddish purplish bruises from his fingers.

I turned in his arms and slapped his shoulder lightly, completely flustered by his antics. “How can I walk out of here now? Everyone will know what I’d been doing instead of sitting at the lecture,” I whined, more embarrassed than angry, but Yoongi’s laughing face was totally free of any remorse, “I look like someone beat me up.”

The man said nothing, just pulled me closer to kiss me gently. I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before I whined again: “I don’t even have a scarf with me today.” He burst out laughing and patted my hip softly.

“I’ll get your stuff, you wait here,” he whispered conspiratorially and with one last wink he was gone. It took him only three minutes to stick his head back into the bathroom, looking a little ruffled and a lot amused.

“I suggest we get going fast, I’m afraid a guy leaving the ladies restroom isn’t as inconspicuous as I wished it was,” he got out quickly, smirking impishly and handing me my coat. I tried to wear it in a way that covered most of the marks, but it was futile, more than half of my neck still on full display.

I walked out of the bathroom the same moment the door to my classroom opened and students started filing out. Yoongi exchanged a single glance with me before we both took off, running down the stairs like we were being chased, only stopping once the building doors slammed shut behind us.

“Jimin’s café?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, still trying to get his strength back and leaning on his knees. I grinned at him and grabbed his hand, already pulling him in the right direction.

“Sure, let’s go!”

Bonus:

“Holy shit! The fuck happened to you?” Jimin exclaimed loudly enough for the whole café to hear the moment he saw me walk through the door. Jungkook and Tae, who were sitting at a small table near the counter to keep Jimin company while he had his shift, turned to look at me only for Kookie to promptly spit out whatever he was drinking.

“Holy shit!” I gave him an unimpressed look and walked up to Jimin to order.

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I side-eyed him sassily, but Jungkook was grinning mischievously, a knowing glint in his eye. I flushed under his gaze and looked away at which he started laughing loudly.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you actually did it,” he giggled, properly entertained by the situation and by my embarrassment. Tae was watching it all unfold, confused look on his face.

“Did what?” Jimin asked, similarly confused.

As if on cue the door opened again and Yoongi stepped in, ignoring everyone currently staring at him and walking straight to me, arm curling around my waist to pull me closer to him. He bent down slightly to whisper in my ear: “Got rid of the evidence successfully.”

“Holy shit!” This time it was Tae who screamed, coming full circle. I gave their smug smiling faces an annoyed glare and turned to Jimin to order again, but he was trying to conceal his grin behind his hand. Even more vexed I turned to Yoongi who was smirking smugly like a cat who got all the cream, hand possessively squeezing at my bruised waist.

“On second thoughts, we shouldn’t have come here,” I said to no one in particular, then turning my narrowed eyes at the man of the hour himself, “and wipe that smirk off your face, mister.” There were giggles from the boys all around us, but Yoongi just swooped down and kissed me softly, then pushed us closer towards the counter.

Jimin cleared his throat and tried to put on a professional expression, but there was mirth in his eyes that I just knew I was going to get all the teasing later. Tae and Kookie cleared out the mess at the table and made space for us to sit down, one looking more amused than the other.

I gave them both the stink eye and ignored them, checking my phone instead, trying to reply to all the messages I’ve missed in the last hour. Around me there was silence, everyone just sitting there looking at each other grinning, before Jungkook cleaned his throat and exclaimed:

“God, fucking finally! Thought Yoongi-hyung was gonna talk my ear off about you!”

“Kookie!” There was a pretty blush spreading on Yoongi’s cheeks, a polar opposite to the cocksure man that was railing my brains out 20 minutes ago. I giggled and squeezed his arm. He gave in easily, leaning towards me.

Then he set his eyes on Jungkook and narrowed them teasingly. “We’re gonna settle that later you brat.”

[gemsofthegalaxy]

Something that finally clicked for me when watching Hadestown live,

Hades gives Orpheus the test that he himself goes through every spring.

This really solidified in my brain when I noticed that Hades gets the red flower and is connected more solidly to the other couple. While I always understood they were mirrors, somehow the trial itself and the significance of what Hades is asking Orpheus to do never really hit me until I watched it.

But I realized that what Hades might be thinking here is, well- you may judge me for losing faith in my wife over the long course of our relationship, missing her for months at a time with few others to talk to or support me. Let's see if this romantic, bleeding heart can do that, can feel the absence of his love and his community and still keep trusting her, himself, and the system.

And he can't- one of the major themes of Hadestown is that working together and building community rather than isolating yourself and hoarding wealth is better for the heart, mind, and soul. So taking away the walls and shades and Eurydice who were supporting Orpheus leads to him doubting himself and those people and ultimately looking back.