#first drabble on this account! hope y’all like it!!

[raccoonbug]

Static thrummed in the hedgehogs limbs, a heavy vibration under cobalt fur weighing him down like lead. Ice scorched through his veins. It was so cold, almost cold enough to burn, but he could not fall to the corruption. No. Not yet. They needed him.

He clutched to the remnants of his memories with shaking hands, yet pieces slipped through like sand. Sonic had to remember. He couldn’t forget who he was doing this for. Amy. Knuckles.

Tails.

The thought of his little brother drove a surge of determination through his core, fire temporarily beating back the ice sludge in his blood. Sonic was dying. He could feel it. Still, he’d rather let the cyber corruption rend his body limb from limb as it fought to with this world to drag him into cyber space. Rather allow the Guardians to crush him underfoot. Rather have his very soul torn from his body. Anything but letting his friends, his family, his brother down.

The End could kill him, he wouldn’t begrudge them that. But he’d tear apart the very reality they lay in, destroy the gods themselves, before he allowed anyone to harm his family.

Sonic kept walking.

[bunniwords]

໑ৎ ׁ ׅ♡ ALIBI 🌀

part xviii - masterlist - part xx xix. loser in a hot body

wc: 2.6k + smau

bunni speaks — WE ARE BACK!! i know y’all waited for a while but i wrote this chapter twice…. i hated how i wrote it the first time so i thought i’d start with a fresh mind… enjoy! the next chapter is also going to be written + smau so it’ll take a bit for me to write it… plus my work schedule the next couple of weeks are filled so it’ll probably take a while. in the mean time, i’ll probably post drabbles i have in my notes.

︶︶ 　 ˚ ᡴꪫ synopsis — you are known for your brain rot anime content on twitter. so much so that you caught the attention of txt’s soobin on his secret stan account and became mutuals. what will become of this new friendship?

when soobin looks back at the last couple of months, he wondered how things ended up as they are now. never had he ever imagine liking someone he met online nor did he even think he’d meet up with anyone he befriend online. this predicament that he got himself into now was even stranger. he was meeting you, who he met through his stan account but the catch was you didn’t even know you were meeting him as well. 

“ten minutes and then we’re starting send off.”

great. he thought.

soobin can feel his nerves getting to him. he’s been itching the back of his neck nervously since he got off stage. he would be wetting his lips so much throughout that concert that he could feel them peeling. seeing you from the small distance at the concert was one thing, but now he had to actually speak to you and he can’t even do it as someone you’ve known the last few months.

but despite all of that, he couldn’t wait to see you, hear you even. the idol had spent so much time listening to your voice through a screen that he wondered if it sounded any different in person. his heart beats faster imagining your face in front of him.

“hey, you good?”

snapping out of thought, soobin looked up and saw that it was yeonjun checking up on him. 

“yeah, just nerves,” he answered.

“hm, not y/n?” the older raised a brow at him, “it’s okay to be nervous. you like her.”

“i just hope she doesn’t think i’m weird or anything, you know as soobin.”

jun hummed and thought about it for a moment. 

“i know it’s hard to separate yourself from the person she knows you as and the person you are in person, but they’re both the same person. she just doesn’t know that you’re famous. she already likes you as you are and is even willing to meet you without knowing what you look like,” yeonjun explained, “so, i think she’ll like you, even as soobin.”

letting his words soak in, soobin nodded. he was right. you were willing to meet him without knowing who he really was or what he looked like, so to some extent, you should be okay with him being famous, right?

“alright, time to go guys,” the staff shouted into the room. 

him and the rest of his group mates came out and there were so many people in the vicinity, but automatically, his eyes found you. your arms were linked with tsuki and your head was resting on her shoulder. the concert was long, so he could imagine how tired you were. you were draped in the txt hoodie that was being sold today. it was practically shallowing you, but you looked so comfortable.

his heart swelled looking at you. probably because he was feeling giddy thinking about how he had the same hoodie you were wearing. it was like you were wearing his hoodie. soobin tried lingering his eyes elsewhere to distract himself but he couldn’t help finding his way back to staring at you. 

when he got closer to your section, he could feel your eyes watching him. soobin tried to focus on whoever was in front of him, but you standing there in anticipation had him completely distorted. half the words he was saying to fans were mindless. he’d continuously say thank you and take photos with fans, but he didn’t even know what he was saying thank you for nor did he remember the faces he was taking photos with. normally, he’s really good at remembering fans and interacting with them but today is so different. 

you were right there. five feet away from him. 

things were happening so fast because one minute he was thinking about how far you were and another minute his manager was pushing him right in front of you. soobin froze at the abrupt shift, eyes glued a little too long at your stature. 

“hi,” you shyly held your hand up short, “um, the girl behind me is a really big fan of yours so i’ll let her talk to you a bit.”

and suddenly, it felt as if he got slapped in the face. he wanted so badly to pout and frown at the suggestion, but he was here to do a job. 

you shifted your head over slightly, leaning closer to hoshi who linked arms with you so you wouldn’t get pushed and fall. soobin slowly (and internally unhappily) nodded his head at your request before interacting with the fan behind you. 

if you thought he couldn’t hear anyone before, he definitely wasn’t hearing anyone now. 

all the voices around him were muffled until his manager poked at him to see if he could move on, but when soobin took one more look at you, he didn’t want to. 

“um, could you sign this for me before you go?” you nervously asked him while handing him a small trading card. 

even if it was this much attention, soobin was satisfied. suddenly, all the other mixed feelings he had were magically washed away.

“i would love to,” he said with the biggest smile on his face before looking down at the card to see it was a megumi trading card. 

soobin started laughing, “what is this?”

you paused for a moment, staring at him. as soon as soobin seemed comfortable with himself around you, his voice also seemed more relaxed… and way more familiar. like you definitely heard this voice before. 

“it’s a megumi card. my friend is a huge fan of yours but doesn’t like megumi very much. i thought it would be funny,” you explained. 

he held his smile the entire time of you explaining and nodded his head as he signed the photo card he knows was meant for him. when he handed it back, you quickly smiled at him once more, thanking him, but couldn’t shake off the feeling that you know his voice.

“did you want a photo?” soobin asked you, “you know to make your friend jealous?”

shocked he even offered, you didn’t answer until tsuki shook your arm to come back to reality. 

“s-s-sure,” you stuttered then turned to hoshi, “let’s use your phone.”

soobin grabbed his phone, not caring that he was told specifically that he wasn’t allowed to take photos with iphones and got really close to your face to take a photo with you (though he did his best to cover the back of the phone with his palm). he couldn’t even hear the other people around you squealing in jealousy at how close he was to you, but you definitely could and was turning red from the attention. soobin took one last photo of him looking at you and you trying to hide your face in your palms before handing the phone back to hoshi and getting scold at by his manager for holding an iphone. 

as he was walking over to the next set of people, you confessed to your friends, “i thought he was going to take a group photo of us.”

now, he was the one blushing, embarrassed on how he only thought about you at that moment, but despite of that, his heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest from being that close to you. soobin was obsessed with how your eyes had to look up at him for the two of you to make eye contact and he genuinely believed that you looked so pretty in person. he didn’t think it was possible for you to look prettier. 

soobin isn’t normally good with feelings, but he definitely liked you. probably more than he had ever anticipated. 

-

when you first saw the group come in, you were honestly exhausted already from the concert, but adrenaline did hit when soobin was closer into your view point. tsuki made sure to take many notes of how he couldn’t stop looking over at you, surely convinced that that boy was smitten over you. soobin wasn’t really being slick about it because he’d scanned the area every time it was time for him to move to the next group of fans to look for your face, and you noticed it more this time than the concert. even you, who was always in denial, had to believe that soobin was paying a little bit too much attention to you. 

“why does he keep looking over here?” you shyly asked tsuki. 

“girl, get ready to sign an nda,” tsuki chuckled. 

“i can’t do that! i’m going to see soo in a few days,” you explained while hitting her arm. 

“not even for choi soobin?” hoshi asked you, “he’s definitely into you.”

“yeah, plus, you and the megumi hater aren’t even a thing. so, you can definitely get with this megumi hater.”

“alright, tsuki, just break my heart or whatever,” you crossed your arms and faced towards hoshi. 

“stop being dramatic,” tsuki laughed and pulled you back, “i’m just saying.”

when soobin finally made his way to you, you noticed the shimmer in his eyes as he looked at you, sending chills down your body. you felt like he looked at you like he knew who you were. but that wasn’t possible, right?

or he probably mistaken you for someone else. either way, you promised the girl behind you that you’d get her photo card signed for you but you wanted to be nice and let her have her moment with him instead.

so, why did he look so down when you did that? even the shimmer you saw earlier faded, but as soon as you asked him to sign your megumi trading card, the life came back into him. it actually seemed like he knew you, but the odd thing about it was why did he also seem so familiar to you as well?

soobin’s voice was definitely a voice you knew and you couldn’t put your finger on it. well, you did spend the last few weeks learning their songs and watched some of their shows on youtube so you were able to recognize them, but this was different. he sounded like someone you knew. 

when he got dragged away by his manager in the end, you asked both your friends if they heard his voice before outside of txt, but they had no idea what you were going on about. 

before you could really press them on it, yeonjun was making his way towards your group and the screams around had gotten louder. this experience, although it was still fun, reminded you of why you don’t go out into crowded places often let alone a concert. 

yeonjun laughed seeing how you had your hands covering your ears and jokingly mocked you with his hands on his ears as well. 

“cute,” yeonjun said as he grabbed some photo cards around him to sign and continued to give his usual fan service. 

you had to admit that yeonjun was good at it too, and he was really funny when interacting with fans since he has a really reactive face and knew the right things to say for entertaining interactions. 

“i love the mamushi dance challenge you did with gyu. it was my favorite,” you complimented while clapping your hands together.

“baby, i’ma star,” he jokingly sang while did a few moves briefly which caused some girls behind to squeal (again), “we actually did it because soobin originally wanted to.”

“soobin?” you raised a brow, “why didn’t he do it?”

“he took about 20 takes but was never satisfied with any of them,” yeonjun chuckled, “you should ask him to show you… oh like um, on weverse or something.”

you nodded your head. you doubted he’d ever see your message if you posted it on there, but also you didn’t want to tell him that you didn’t have the app in the first place. 

“is soobin your favorite?” yeonjun (bluntly) asked. 

“no, it’s kai,” you replied rather too quickly, which caused him to laugh.

yeonjun held his hand up for a high five. was this some moa insider joke? you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t know what was going on, so you high fived him and yeonjun held onto your hand. 

“kai is pookie bear, so i get it,” yeonjun said before he was interrupted with soobin coming back into your section, which made yeonjun let go of your hand. 

“sorry,” soobin said as he moved yeonjun behind him, “um, did i leave my pen cap somewhere here?”

tsuki raised a brow before pointing it right on top of the pen he was holding. 

“oh, right. sorry,” he sheepishly apologized before (firmly) patting yeonjun’s back to push him forward, “i’ll get back to where i was. yeonjun’s behaving, right?”

“hey. of course, i am,” the older idol smirked before nudging soobin towards his manager who looked like he wanted to put him on a leash. 

-

“i can’t believe you held her hand!” soobin threw a pillow at yeonjun.

the concert was well over and the whole gang was in yeonjun’s room to debrief on what happened. normally, everyone goes to their respective room after eating, but let’s be honest: this whole group was completely nosy and wanted to talk about y/n and what happened during the concert and send off, especially what soobin was thinking.

“force of habit! i’m sorry! we’re at a fan event,” yeonjun tried defending himself but soobin was already trying to suffocate him with a pillow (playfully or not so playfully, he was still deciding).

“yeonjun held her hand?” kai asked.

“you shouldn’t be talking! i saw you going in for a hug!” beomgyu exclaimed while pointing at him, which earned him a slap on his arm from taehyun.

“are you trying to get him killed? you see what he’s doing to jun right now?” he whispered. 

“you what!”soobin whipped his head at the youngest who held his hand up in defeat. 

“wait! wait, she asked for one! well, her friend asked for her but i can’t say no,” kai explained.

soobin was definitely stressed out and his features filled with jealousy. his friends got to hold your hand and hug you before he could. the betrayal. he felt like twenty years have been taken from his life. it was unfair. he barely had a minute conversation with you and they got to lock fingers and embrace? they might as well go out into a meadow and frolic in a field of flowers (clearly, his imagination is running wild).

“alright, calm down,” taehyun said, “how was seeing her? 

“i’m not telling you guys,” soobin pouted, “you guys are the worst.”

beomgyu sighed and stood up, “guess i won’t tell you what she said about you… well, i’m tired. we gotta do this thing all over again tomorrow so…”

“stop there,” soobin said with an ambitious tone, “what did she say?”

he only shrugged as he made his way to the door, but soobin’s long legs really helped him leap towards there before him, completely blocking the exit.

“spill.”

beomgyu raised a brow, “now you want answers? okay, so how was seeing her for the first time?”

soobin frowned and almost cringed just thinking about admitting his feelings towards you in front of the guys. he’d rather let beomgyu go with whatever information he might have on you than to openly say what he thought about you when he saw you. taking a step out of the way, soobin lets him leave. 

“i’ve never seen soobin be silenced so fast,” kai commented.

“the power y/n holds is so real,” yeonjun added. 

[sundaynie]

𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐡

pairing | st. shelter!lars x mc

genre | fluff

summary | mc mulls over her first day at harp island

author’s note | it’s been a week since i started playing lovebrush chronicles and i am obsessed y’all. here’s a short, fluffy drabble dedicated lars rorschach bc that man owns me now !! (work cross-posted from my ao3 account)

His eyes remind you of the Mediterranean Sea.

A delicate blend of pale blue and subtle green hues. It's a little warmer in tone, fittingly enough. His oddly benevolent gaze resembles pools of aqua, with streaks of turquoise in his irises emulating the soft ebbs and flows of water.

I could drown in them, you think.

Waves of azure blue intermingling with seafoam green to create the most stunning shade of aquamarine.

I would like to, you muse.

A yawn escapes your lips as you prepare for bed. It’s well into nighttime now, just approaching 11pm. You’ve changed into your pyjamas after finishing your usual evening routine— a scorching hot, full-body shower and your ever-so-elaborate skincare routine.

Eyes shifting to your suitcase by the door, you’re glad you didn’t need to unpack your belongings. Your stay at this dorm is a provisional one since you’ll be moving out in the morning and into the off-campus housing that your guardian, Cael, had arranged for you.

Tucked snugly into bed, the journey from your hometown to the small island occupies your thoughts. It had been an exhaustingly arduous overnight trip and with your seasickness rendering you bedridden for most of the time you were aboard the cruise ship, you were thankful for your mentor to have accompanied you.

You hadn’t anticipated your arrival at Harp Island to be an overwhelming one. Your first day for orientation, sure. But stepping foot on the official campus grounds of St. Shelter Academia and meeting so many people all at once was beyond what you had prepared for.

Their faces and names are all a Gaussian blur in your head. The fatigue of travelling and having to assimilate to your surroundings so soon finally catches up to you as you sink into the bed of your temporary accommodation.

It had been a long journey but you were glad to be here, at last.

You turn over, gently resting your cheek against your palm, vivid blue-green eyes flashing in your mind.

Lars Rorschach.

You ponder the possibility of encountering him again. Given his status as one of the academy's key investors, crossing paths with him seemed highly probable. You mull over the extent of his connections within St. Shelter and wonder how far-rooted his relations are with the academy. His familiarity with Cael suggests they were well acquainted, evident in the way they spoke to each other.

It would make sense if he was a former student.

You speculate on the academic path he might have pursued at the academy, envisioning a business-related course, given his role as the CEO of Feinz Group, a thriving multi-billion dollar enterprise. You picture him as someone who was a well-known figure on campus, he is charismatic enough, after all.

Not to mention devastatingly handsome.

With his towering stature and golden hair, sharp nose and chiselled jawline.

Amidst all his striking features, it was his eyes that captivated you the most.

You find yourself wondering if they change colour, refracting and reflecting under different lighting.

Were they blue most days? Or did they lean towards green?

The memory of his eyes sparkling as he openly praised In Passing, blissfully unaware of your identity as the author of the manga, replays in your mind.

"I really like this artist. I hope to get her autograph one day."

His remark was sincere, with all the enthusiasm of an easily excitable golden retriever.

A small smile unknowingly graces your lips as you slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of aquamarine eyes.

—

end note | i already have like 917279645883624 lars fics + drabbles lined up so watch this space lol

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Monday, March 25

PIKE: This is Benny. And I'm... Pike. BUFFY: Pike isn't a name. It's a fish.

~~Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992)~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Stronger Than Before (Angel/Fred, T) by Pinkperson

[Chaptered Fiction]

The Body Switch Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, Adult only) by Spikelover4ever

Not Just a Boy and a Girl (It's Just the End of the World) Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by noctilucent

The Vision Quest Chapter 12 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by acb6293

Because the Night Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Cheeky Kitten

Hope is the thing with feathers Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Will_

Out of the Wasteland Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Hallow Turner

Embrace Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by Hallow Turner

We’re Having a Baby! Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, Adult only) by Maxine Eden

30 Ways to Say I Love You Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Maxine Eden

Bizarre Double Life Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by violettathepiratequeen

Left on Read Chapter 25 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by ashcrashed

Something Lingers Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by goodbyetoyou

Triangles Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by ClowniestLivEver

The Balance Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by ClowniestLivEver

Enemies to Ghost Hunters Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by ClowniestLivEver

Quality Time Chapter 25 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by MaggieLaFey

The Dreaded Lurgi Chapter 25 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by SomeKindOfADeviant

Love Lives Here Chapter 40 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

Pick Me Up Chapter 25 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by Dusty

The joining of souls Chapter 17 (Xander/Cordelia/Tara, FR13) by delfine

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:Spuffy doodles by frenchublog

Artwork:Buffy Portraits(16-20) Xx by whatshisfaceblogs

Artwork:The last four of the major arcana are done by isevery0nehereverystoned

Artwork:doodles by nyxchipz

Podcast:Episode 21 - The Broward County Peephole Thing (The Dark Age) by thesunnydalediaries

[Fandom Discussions]

In angel s5e2 they do a little flashback to Spike’s blaze of glory moment in the last episode of Buffy… but they leave out Buffy saying “I love you” by bloomfish

One of my favourite things about the Buffyverse is the lore about the extended demon society by bloomfish

Xander’s first scene in the show is being distracted and hurting himself looking at Buffy by suncaptor

random thoughts about the ‘cookie dough’ speech by summerroomspring

30 Day Challenge: BtVS vs AtS continued by multiple posters

Rewatch thoughts and questions continued by multiple posters

Elimination Game : Writer's Best BtVS Episode continued by multiple posters

Favourite Episode of the High School Years continued by multiple posters

Would you have tried to rehabilitate Faith after Consequences? continued by multiple posters

So about that whole…”Wesley X Cordy” thing… by Plasma

so i’ve delved into the buffy comic verse by SageHedgeHag

Episode Battle (Part 4) by Dappich

buffy using violence in arguments by Calm_Phone_6848

What Buffy opinion makes you feel like this? by SafiraAshai

Can Buffy be held accountable for trying to kill her friends? by brwitch

who are y’all defending? by No_Performance223

Which is your favorite phase of Rupert Giles? by jdpm1991

2x15 'Phases' is actually a Xander episode by jm_leviathan

Something I don't understand about Xander and Anya's wedding day by DistributionRight620

"No Faith, this isn't about the people affected by your actions, you shouldn't consider that" by debujandobirds

Drop some cruel & ruthless Buffyverse lines by PristineSituation498

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

[ladyk8tie]

Intro- Riley

Hey, Everyone! This account is going to be a compilation of Shorts/Drabbles about the relationship between my OC, Riley Quaritch and Colonel Miles Quaritch. I am in the process of fleshing out a full fanfic for them but wanted to jump in to writing about them. 😊

 All these take place when Riley and Miles are both still human and before the events of the first movie. This is a “AU” of sorts where Miles does not have wholehearted hatred for the Na’vi when he and Riley first came to pandora. And, in part, the destruction of The Hometree and The Battle of Hallelujah Mountains was following orders.

I am open to requests regarding aspects of their lives you might want to see along with canon lists of things about them. Or about scenes from the First movie and can explain them in my Verse!

A few facts about Riley and Miles from my Verse:

·       Riley is 40 and Miles 51 at during the events of the First Movie (biologically)

·       They have an eleven-year age difference

·       Riley is a Doctor/Scientist and an Avatar Driver

·       The six years in Cryo are not added to their ages (They would be 46 and 57 Chronologically)

·       Riley is Spider’s Mom and is alive during the Time frame of Way of Water (fanfic era)

 My goal with these Shorts and Drabbles is to make Riley, Mile and a few of the Members of the Squad feel like actual people for my WIP fanfic.

I hope y’all enjoy!!

[bedos-blossom]

Genshin Boys + Kink Scenarios

Pairings: Kaeya, Zhongli, Ayato, and Itto x afab!reader (all separately)

Genre: Smut

Warnings:  slight exhibitionism, creampie, you call Ayato Sir, a lil bit of cum play, a lil bit of cum eating, Ayato calls reader a greedy slut

A/N: I wanted to pair a Genshin boy with either a sex toy or a kink and make some drabbles to help warm my brain back up to writing. I hope y’all enjoy the filth! I am planning a part two with other Genshin boys which I’ll link here when it’s posted :)

Kaeya + Fucking Machine:

“You’re doing so well, baby.”

His words are sweet, but you don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking down at you. However, you don’t have the brainpower to come up with any witty one-liner thanks to the fucking machine currently pistoning in and out of you at a maddening speed. You do lift your head and attempt to glare at him, limbs pulling at the restraints that keep you in place, but it was hard to glare when your eyes wanted nothing more than to roll back.

Currently, you are bent over a sex bench, comfortably resting on the plush cushioning that keeps your knees, torso, and arms from aching despite them all being bound to said cushions with straps. Admittedly, when he first showed you the machine you were unsure of it, but Kaeya’s excitement made you agree to try it out that night. Promising it would be an experience you’d love, and he was right. You did love it, but there was a downside you didn’t account for. 

While the machine did the job, it couldn’t scratch all those itches for you. It couldn’t reach around and rub your clit. It couldn’t change its angle to focus on your sweet spot. It couldn’t spank your ass until your skin was radiating warmth. It couldn’t grip your hips and pull you back into its thrust. 

It couldn’t be Kaeya. 

Kaeya knew this full and well, which is why he was looking down at you with that shit-eating grin. He could tell from the look in your eyes just how badly you wanted him. 

“K-Kaeya, come on.” You plead, watching his hand as he teasingly rubs over his cock through his pants. 

“Come on?” He echoes, tilting his head as his eye glints mischievously, “Come on, what?”

Your reply is lost in the whimper that involuntarily slips from your lips as you watch Kaeya start undoing his belt. You look up at him– eyes pathetically needy and Kaeya knows he can’t deny you for much longer when you’re giving him those eyes. 

“Alright, alright. You were good and let me have my fun. I’ll reward you.”

Zhongli + Vibrating Panties:

A brisk walk through Liyue wasn’t unusual for the ex archon. He enjoyed all the sights of Liyue regardless of how many times he’s seen them. He especially loved seeing them while having you at his side. You were frequent visitors of a lot of street vendors and restaurants, meaning your walks could last a while depending on what you or your boyfriend wanted to do. The length was never a bother for you– unless Zhongli decides to use it as a means to punish you or tease you. 

Today was the latter which means he has a bit more mercy but the bullet vibrator currently snug against your clit doesn’t differentiate between punishment and teasing. It just did a mind-numbingly good job at making all your nerves flare to life. 

“Darling?” 

Zhongli’s voice breaks you from your thoughts as you glance over.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“You’re quiet, is something wrong?”

To anyone else it would look like a lover concerned for their dearest, but you narrow your eyes at him. It was hard to be chatty when at any moment Zhongli could turn that little torture device on-

There it goes.

Your breath catches in your throat as your grip on his arm tightens. You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping your face didn’t give away that something was up. Zhongli continues to smile at you warmly as if his free hand isn’t in his pocket fidgeting with a remote that is connected to the panties you’re wearing. 

“Just fine.” You manage to reply with a somewhat steady voice. 

“Are you sure? We could end our walk prematurely.” He offers, stopping in the middle of the street. 

Again his words were sweet but his actions spoke louder – his fingers once again turning up the intensity. Your thighs tremble slightly as you grit your teeth. It takes everything in you not to moan out loud as you open your mouth to reply again. 

“Nope. Fine.” 

Zhongli leans down and kisses your forehead, you can feel the small smirk as his lips meet your skin. 

“Very well.”

Itto + Spreader Bar:

Who knows how long has passed since Itto folded you into this mating press. Your mind has long since gone blank – the rhythmic pounding of Itto’s cock inside of you is the only thing your mind can register. You were sweaty and sticky, three orgasms have been squeezed out of you and yet Itto was still as enthusiastic as when you began. Oni stamina was no joke.

“I-Itto-” You gasp out, toes curling as your legs involuntarily pull against the restraint that your ankles and wrists were locked into. 

It was hard to form thoughts when you couldn’t grip anything to ground yourself. You’ve resorted to digging your nails into your palms but it did nothing to help you collect yourself. 

“Hm?” Itto grunts, his eyes still fixated on where your bodies connect. 

There’s something addicting about how your pussy stretches to accommodate his large size. Mortals were small to Itto and therefore delicate things– but you were able to take all of him to the hilt. It took some prep and patience, but by the end of the night he was always able to plunge into you with less restraint than he was used to. 

“F-Feels good.” You slur as your unfocused gaze moves to your lover’s face. 

His eyes flicker up to your face, taking in the sight of you completely fucked out. Tear streaks on your cheeks, eyes clouded, tongue lolled out of your open mouth, face completely flushed. 

It made him want to completely let go– letting his mind shut down and his hips take control, fucking you with enough force to break the bed frame and make your pretty little screams ring throughout all of Inazuma. 

But he knew better than that. 

Instead, he rests his forehead on the back of the hand that's holding your spreader bar and looks down at you with adoring eyes. As amazing as he knows he is, he’s thankful someone as incredible as you stumbled into his life. 

“I fuckin’ love you.” He pants, pausing his assault on your lower half for a moment to give you a breather. 

He swears his heart swells when you give him a dopey smile and try to reach for him despite still being restrained. You don’t need to think to reply to that– at this point in the relationship, it’s an instinct that transcends the need for thought or coherency.

“Love you too.”

Ayato + Spanking:

“Sweetheart, remind me of the rule you broke.” Ayato says as he looks down at you. 

You were sitting on your heels in front of him, your head hanging low. Without looking up from your hands you can still feel his piercing glare. You were bad. You knew you were being bad but it was a quickie! He wasn’t supposed to know it happened!

“I played with Thoma while you weren’t around.”

It was one of the few rules Ayato gave you and yet, you still broke it. You were just so horny and Thoma was there in his tight black shirt, dusting off the dresser, and next thing you knew you had convinced him to fuck you on it. It was just a little something to get you by until Ayato could get home tonight. Little did you know Ayato managed to finish the day’s tasks early and make it home before dark. To say he was shocked to walk in to Thoma flooding your pussy with his cum was an understatement. 

He was quick to order the housekeeper out of the room, promising to deal with him later. Thoma, thankful to escape Ayato’s punishment for the time being, ran out of the room. You, however, were not so lucky. Ayato didn’t even give you the chance to put your panties back on. You could still feel some of Thoma’s cum dripping out of you and onto the floor. 

“You did.” Ayato nods, “For that, you will be punished. Over my knee.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Your voice is quiet and full of shame as you walked over and assumed the position he asked of you. 

“I know you are. You’ll say as much after each spank and count them, understood?”

Ayato slips off his gloves and tosses them aside before slowly rubbing over your ass. He chuckles at how stiff you were - you were trying to prepare yourself for the first hit. It didn’t matter, in the end you knew it was going to make you jolt forward.

Thwack!

You flinch, biting down on your lip as the sting spreads. 

“One. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Ayato takes his time spanking you, alternating between cheeks and taking time to rub over your heated skin every 3 or 4 spanks. By 10 you were hiccuping with your eyes watering. Your ass felt like it was on fire and he had to place a hand on your back to keep you still. Despite the pain from the punishment, you couldn’t help but feel a bit aroused as well. You foolishly hope Ayato wouldn’t be able to notice it.

Your hopes are dashed when you feel Ayato uses a hand to spread you– showcasing the mess Thoma left behind just minutes ago. He tuts as he shakes his head and runs his fingers through your folds, coating his fingers in the mess of cum.

“Look at that. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, you greedy slut?”

You open your mouth to apologize yet again but only a soft squeal leaves you as Ayato plunges two fingers into you. To your slight horror, he curls them and scoops out some of the cum left inside of you. Your cheeks flood with heat as you cover your face with a hand. 

It couldn’t get any worse than this. 

Yet it does when you hear the unmistakable sound of Ayato sucking his fingers clean. You look over your shoulder just in time to see Ayato pull his cleaned fingers out of his mouth and lick his lips. He hums in satisfaction before speaking again.

“You’re lucky a treat was left behind for me, or else this punishment would’ve kept going. On the bed.” He pats the space next to him, “On all fours, it’s only fair I add to the mess then have Thoma eat it out of you, isn’t it?”

[hyuckdolle]

in a trance 🎱 — han x f!reader

contains: 18+ , suggestive, smut, pet names (puppy, baby), praising, degrading, teasing, blowjob implied?, drabble | navigate 4 more

notes: hey tinktinks! thank y’all for reading and i hope you all enjoyed it. comments, reblogs, likes are all appreciated. although i write for fun, it make me happy knowing that y’all enjoyed it! p.s. hard hours are always opened on my account, just make sure y’all read the rules / limits in my pinned. <3

“hannie,” you said, your cheek resting on his thigh as you looked up at him from the floor. you decided to be bold this time. without han having to be the one to make the first move, tired of being a dumb little puppy, as han would refer to you… despite the fact it made you melt every single time. but this time, you wanted to prove to him that you can be a big girl.

repetitively glancing at the light print pressed up against his shorts. he was resting back on the sofa watching a video on his phone paying you little to no mind, but still aware. the rest of the group was going about their daily schedules, leaving you two alone.

“yes, baby?” he asked, his gaze fixated on his phone. he was holding the phone with one hand now, giving you small pats on the top of your head.

“i want,” your tiny voice faltered, subconsciously licking your lips. just like han and his phone, your eyes did not leave the bulge in his pants that had kept you content for the past few minutes.

‘shit, i already messed up’, you thought, cussing yourself out in your head for your lack of words.

then it shortly clicked for him, he realized what had you in a trance, what made you reply so dryly. he looked up from his phone, a small smirk present on his face.

“you want what? use your words baby,” han caressed your cheek. he sat the phone down next to him, giving you his full attention.

the tingling and fluttering had caused you to squeeze your thighs tightly together. you responded to his question by timidly shaking your head and lowering your gaze.

you were breathless, almost in awe, after seeing how the bulge in his shorts lit up in excitement. so you decided not to speak, knowing you’d be a stuttering mess. stuttering wasn’t going to help you at all knowing that han would take advantage of it and use it as an opportunity to tease you.

“is my little puppy shy?” he cooed at you and caressed your cheek with his thumb while smiling warmly.

“mhm,” you hummed quietly, your hands covering your face. “wan’ it.”

“want what?” he asked, tilting his head as if he didn’t understand what you were referring to before gently removing your hands from your face. “show me baby.”

after a while, you lifted your head and pointed to his bulge, your eyes gleaming at it… just wanting it already. you were always so good for him but he always still made you work for it, and that frustrated you. but you honestly hoped that he wouldn’t try to drag his questions and make you speak.

“my dumb little puppy wants hannie’s dick, is that it?” he almost mockingly said, it was more of a tease though.

but you could barely tell anyway, in fact you didn’t care that he was teasing you. you just wanted one thing and bratting out wasn’t going to help you get it. so, you quickly nodded in excitement. he gave you a look that only you knew of, asking you to speak up with your words.

“yes hannie i wan’ it,” you nodded again. han began pulling down his shorts, stopping mid-thigh, making your mouth water.

“good girl,” he said praising you for the bare minimum of speaking up knowing how shy you always get. he finally pulled it out of his boxers. it was so big and girthy as it laid hard on his abdomen. and you get to have it all to yourself… maybe being han’s dumb little puppy wasn’t too bad. and you loved it.

extra note: i’m tired of when i add the read more it repeats my paragraphs i’m tired of tryna fix it and it doing the same thing?! so fuck it .

but yeaaa… han loves treating you like a dumb puppy that can barely think for themselves😮‍💨.

© pixieelix. 2022

[bangtanfanficarchive]

Hoseok NSFW ABCs

Well, here it is! The very last of the bunch - and my bias - Jung Hoseok! I hope you all enjoy this!

My inbox is currently open for MTLs and drabble requests, so hit me up here and let know know what you'd like to see next!

Happy reading! <3

x

A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Honestly, he's probably not that great at it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Hoseok is not good at being nurturing. But he knows aftercare is part of a square deal, so he will make sure you're cleaned up and hydrated. Beyond that though, he really needs guidance from his partner. He's not unwilling, just unknowledgeable.

B - Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

🔊🗣️ Boob guy. Jung Hoseok loves a good fistful of tiddies I don't make the rules. On himself, he's pretty proud of his lean physique. So unassuming, but it packs a punch. 😏🥊

C - Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Oh this boy loves to make a mess. Loves facials, loves feeding, loves spreading it over his partners' chest or abdomen

D - Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Is an absolute commitmentphobe. Like, he insists sex be kept casual.

E - Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Very experienced. And hella kinky.

F - Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Man likes to hit it from behind. Both of his partner's wrists caught in one of his hands as he forces them into the mattress.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Basically never. Even though the sex is casual, it can get pretty kinky at times as well. When he's in his dom space, he likes to feel domineering and likes a pliant submissive. That doesn't really lend itself to jokiness.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Honestly, I don't think he'd put much care into his appearance downstairs. After all, he doesn't owe anything to anyone and most of his encounters are primarily for his pleasure first, his partner's second, so he doesn't really take into account their aesthetic preference so much.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

As much as he would probably claim not at all, it takes a hell of a lot of trust between two people for he and his partner to be able to do the things they do. And trust breeds intimacy. So...there's gotta be at least a little bit, right?

J - Jack off (maturbation headcanon)

Does it but in a very rudimentary fashion. Just to scratch and itch.

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jung Hoseok is one (1) kinky dom. Although I don't see him as some sadist that directly derives enjoyment from rolling out pain, he has his rules, likes to stick to them, and is a firm disciplinarian if his partner ends up breaking those rules. Sir, but not daddy, if you catch my drift.

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere. Exhibition ain't off the table with this one.

M - Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

His own pleasure first, the following of his rules second, his partner's pleasure third.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Watersports? Scat? Maybe? He's pretty ✨open-minded✨

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

One thing that can be said for Hoseok is that even though his own pleasure is paramount, when he gets down to business, he really gets down to business on his partner. He’ll straight up have you sit on his face and you’re not going anywhere until he says so.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast. Rough. Unless you’ve been a little brat, then he’s going to let you agonize for hours.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies throughout the day, sure, but when y’all are getting into a scene, just know you’re going to be in it for the long haul. The man is thorough.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Hoseok is always up for some experimenting. A massive exhibitionist, so don’t think you’re going to get away with playing around only in the privacy of your home or his. No sir no ma’am. Of course danger is fun, but the man is no idea. He won’t drag you out in public, per se, but...bringing you to the edge in the back of a sedan on the way to an event? A definite possibility.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Tbh, his stamina isn’t anything remarkable. Short rounds but multiples for sure.

T - Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

A toy fiend. One of every color for every day of the year. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration but he’s like really into them. Loves shopping for them with you, for you, and even has a little collection of non-couple toys for use when you’re not there.

U - Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

So much. Like an egregious amount. This man will edge you a dozen times without apology and a “something wrong, doll?” when you start to whine.

V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Hoseok is loud. There is nothing at all shy about him.

W - Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Jung Hosoek loves administering electroplay and I will not be accepting criticism at this time. <3

X - X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thin. Slender. Muscle, but sinewy. My gut says he grooms, but only enough to keep things convenient, not to maintain any specific aesthetic. Not super hung, be he gets the job done.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Mans is consistently horny, just pretty decent at hiding it. If he’s in a position to have things taken care of, though, he definitely will with a quickness.

Z - Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty much immediately. Don’t get me wrong, he’s going to take care of you and make sure you’re alright first - he’s not a monster - but once he’s done with the basics, he’s out of there. It’s nap time.

-

Send MTLs and drabble requests here!

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Bones 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); harassment, general creepiness.

This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown and When the Weight Comes Down

Note: Another random update of a series for y’all as I toil away at drabbles in between!

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Masterlist

Your skin crawled as you walked to work the next morning. The memories of the night before made you cringe and tuck your chin down as you kept your eyes ahead of you. You feared if you looked around, you might summon the incessant biker from his hole.

The library was as empty as any other day and you claimed your seat at the curved desk. You booted up and sipped from your thermos, the coffee bitter on your tongue as you watched Melissa appear from the non-fiction section. She sat in her own chair and yawned as she signed on.

The monotony of Birch was sobering after the night in the dank bar. The bikers and their own little world, a microcosm of the worst types all in one place. You went about your usual tasks, there were a few returns on the cart to put back on the shelves and you walked the shelves and checked for out of order codes.

The hours slaked by like the peaks of a mountain against ancient gales. The stale lights made the days stretch to tedium and the grey without added to the sense of listlessness. Colin’s low snores escaped the back room and Melissa sorted through bent paperbacks in a far aisle to put out for the Sunday penny sale.

As the windows darkened, Colin gave his usual grumbled farewell and further mussed his wavy hair as he tried to smooth it out. It didn’t matter much as he covered it with the old faded Leafs toque and left through the automatic doors. His shadow was soon followed by Melissa as she looked forward to seeing her daughter and watching some new program on the local channel.

You were the last as you walked the aisles before final lock-up. The automatic doors were off as you checked for unlikely stragglers. You came back to the round desk and flipped off the lights for all but the entry way and the back office. You pushed open the door and locked the outside ones with a jangle of keys. As you turned back, you gripped the big key to the back door and shook your head.

You stepped through the space between the inner doors and stared at the man behind your desk. He sat in your chair, your purse sat before him on the counter as he shoved a large hand inside. You crossed your arms and watched Thor as he pulled out your coral coloured wallet and unsnapped it.

“What are you doing?” You asked harshly. “How did you get in here?”

He snickered and pulled out a card and lifted it up to look at it closely. He leaned back and flicked it with his thumb. “I knew you were a city girl.” He said.

“Get out. We’re closed.”

“Sorry, I’m late. I’m a busy man.” He slid the card back in place and searched the rest, uninterested by the few bills inside the fold and your various reward cards and outdated alumni ID.

“Late? You don’t seem the reading type. We don’t have that many audiobooks.” You neared and grabbed the other handle of your purse. “There’s an app for that now.”

Again, he laughed and dropped your wallet into the depths of your purse. He released it and pushed his shoulders back as you dragged the bag off the desk. He tilted his head and held up your phone in its shiny lavender case. He smirked as the screen lit up and he swiped it open. You never should have added the library as a trusted location.

“Hmm,” he turned it to face him and scrolled with his thumb, “I think you’re missing a number in here.”

“Give it.” You reached for the phone and he held it away from you like some annoying teenager. “Hey… Thor! Give me it. It’s mine!”

His blonde lashes flashed and he looked at you with delight. “Oooh, I love it when you say my name.”

“Stop. You can’t be in here and you certainly can’t--” 

You swiped for the phone again and he caught your arm. He yanked you so hard you almost left the floor and you dropped your purse and keys. He held you over the counter as he twisted your wrist just a little.

“And who exactly is going to make me leave?”

He kept his thick fingers locked around your wrist as he searched your phone. You struggled with him but it only sent a violent jolt up to your elbow.

“I can do whatever I want and you can’t do anything to stop me. In fact, there’s no one in this town who can.” His jaw clenched and he locked your phone. “Well, kitten, I’m going to hold onto this.” He let go of you and stood as you retracted your arm and rubbed your sore wrist. “And when you want to be a good girl for me, you can come find me and ask for it nicely.”

“Ask? You’re crazy. It’s mine. You’re--” you sputtered.

You swallowed as his hand balled to a fist and his brow twitched. It was the first hint of anything but amusement. It was much more troubling, a slight tell. He was angry.

“I’ve been nice, kitten. I like you and your claws but don’t scratch too deep.” He warned as he backed away. “I’ll see my way out unless of course… you would take me up on my offer from last night.”

“Go. Keep the fucking phone.” You snarled and reached for your purse and the keys. 

You stood and watched as he ran his tongue just below his teeth and turned away. He snaked his way through the back office and you heard the heavy metal door whine in his stead. You locked the inner doors and grabbed your jacket from the rack.

You went to the same door and hit the lights. You activated the security system and stepped out with a cautious look around the vacant parking lot. You locked the door and headed around the side of the brick building and out into the glow of the streetlights.

You could get a new phone, that was nothing, just a chunk out of your check. He could search your contacts, your apps, your phones, he’d find nothing but the pathetic life of a thirtysomething wash out. That wasn’t what worried you. 

He was watching you. He had to be. He knew when you were alone and he knew how to get in. You might not see him but you were certain he could see you. You shivered and pulled your hate over your head and puffed out a cloud. 

💀

You went home angry but slightly addled from the encounter. You watched over your shoulder the entire way home and locked your door with the tarnished chain. You found it hard to settle as you debated marching over to the bar and demanding your phone back and opening the wine you hadn’t touched since your impulsive purchase. You really hated Thor but you knew you could push him much further before he did something much worse.

You ignored your wrath and ate your dinner in front of the television before hiding under your covers and watching the snowfall until you fell asleep. Every night was as dull as the one before and the morning always came too quickly.

You woke and readied for your day with a cup of home-brewed Colombian roast and packed your lunch. You searched for your phone for two seconds before you remembered where it was. Your neck prickled as you thought of Thor with access to all your information and the barren social media accounts. 

The snow was even deeper that day and you fought through the thick carpet. The library felt twice as far by the time you reached it and you were panting as you entered and shook off the powder. You took your usual spot at the usual time with your usual thermos and usual disillusion.

You whiled away the hours without the distraction of your phone. You realised how easily this man could torture you and not even be in the same place as you. You went searching in the aisles for something to do and scraped the gum off the bottom of the tables. A disgusting task but work nonetheless.

When the end of the day came, you were all too happy to go home and hide under your duvet with a tea and a sitcom. You hated this. You would go to the city and get a new phone if you had too. God, how much would that cost?

💀

The days slogged by and on your first free day, you were too tired to make the drive out of town. You resigned to your procrastination, instead taking a short walk down the main street to Babs’. Your usual order, but cinnamon instead of caramel in your latte, and a scone to enjoy at home.

The snow remained as thick as days before. You looked out the bakery window in dread as you awaited your order at the end of the counter. You still caught yourself reaching for your phone. If you waited too long, you might not even be able to make it into the city. Well, you could always order something online. 

The door chimed as Steve’s girl came to the other side of the counter and placed your latte out for you. She smiled and you thanked her but her eyes rounded as you heard boots come close. You turned, barely surprised by the man who was better described as your shadow those days. 

Since his visit to the library, Thor had made himself known in several instances, every day as you walked home he was outside the asp, watching. Other times, he’d be waiting by the steps of the library, mocking you silent as he pulled out your phone. You had too much pride to ask for it back and you knew that it would take more than asking.

You tried to sidestep him and he blocked your path. The foam pushed out through the hole in the plastic lid and you sighed.

“What do you want?” you hissed.

“I should ask you. I don’t know many girls these days can go days without their lifeline,” he taunted, “You know, it’s dangerous how much of ourselves we keep on these little things.”

He patted his jacket where he no doubt had your phone hidden. You looked down at your latte and thought of popping the lid off and tossing it at him. That wouldn’t be any good. You shrugged and looked past him.

“I gotta go--”

“Is there anything I can get you, Thor?” Steve’s girl eked out as if her voice could barely fit through her windpipe.

“I’ve come for something sweet but I think I found it,” he smirked, his eyes stuck to you.

“Give it up,” you scoffed and elbowed past him. He chuckled and followed you to the door as you sped up, your treads squeaking on the salt-stained floor.

“On you? Never,” he purred as you pulled the door open and he caught it behind you.

“You can break the phone for all I care,” you snarled, “just leave me alone.”

He kept up with you as flakes gathered on your scarf and you peered down the street and ran across. His boots crunched in time with yours as he lingered in your peripheral. You spun as you came to a stop on the other side and scowled.

“Jesus, I thought dogs were supposed to be obedient,” you snapped.

“I can be,” he winked and reached to brush the snow from the hair poking out from under your cap, “I’ll gladly get to my knees for you, kitten.”

You snapped at his hand and he pulled away with a surprised laugh. You gritted your teeth and took a step back.

“I won’t tell you again and I’m getting real tired of this.”

“You keep forgetting who you’re meowing at, kitten,” he stepped closer and you backed away again.

You turned and flitted away from him. You had not planned for him in your day off and you weren’t going to let him ruin it. You wanted to go home and enjoy your coffee, alone. However, that meant leading him to your front door. You stopped again.

“Go,” you pointed across the street at the Asp, the town’s marquee.

“Oh, kitten, you’re so cute,” he tugged on your scarf and you swatted him away.

“Alright, that’s it!” you smashed your cup against his chest and the hot liquid steamed as it splashed across his front and dripped down his leather jacket. 

He held out his arms as he looked down at himself and slowly back to you. His blue eyes dilated as the ends of his golden hair sopped with caffeine. It was too late to apologize, too futile. You sputtered and quickly turned away.

You were thankful when you didn’t hear him behind you. You stopped and peaked back at the corner of the next side street. He watched you still and even at a distance you could see his rage.

If you hoped he’d lose interest, that optimism was dead.

💀

A snow storm stagnated the already stale town and you could guess that the highway was even worse. You could replace your sim online but that would take at least a week to arrive and with the weather, likely longer. It might be quicker to wait out the blizzard. You stayed in limbo, reluctant to pull the trigger.

You kept to your apartment for the rest of the weekend, with no reason or want to leave. On your way, you didn’t see him. You sighted a few figures through the falling powder but they were faces familiar to the streets. You kept an eye over your shoulder, glancing around every few steps.

You avoided the cafe. He might look for you there, he might even be waiting for you. You sat down at your desk but felt out of place. He could walk through those doors like he had only days before. He could taunt you and tease you. What made you so antsy was that he could do worse than that. You knew it but you’d let your temper get the best of you. A wasted latte might have cost you everything.

By the end of your shift, it was decided. You were leaving Birch. No one could know until you were gone. Not Melissa, not Colin, no one. You old all-weathers would have to get you down the highway, just to the city so you could lose yourself there until you had a real plan. Even as the snow piled higher and higher, there could be no delay. You’d waited long enough.

Paranoid, you were certain you’d be met again on your path home. The town was dead as the soft blanket covered the ground. The flakes turned to mounds and the tops of your boots let in errant clumps of snow. The store may as well been closed for the day, the library had been little different but its lethargy was expected. Even The Asp seemed to have dulled with the pale gusts.

You packed a bag. One. The apartment came furnished and you never cared much for miscellany. Anything you left behind was replaceable. You went down the back stairs and cleaned off your small Focus. Used but reliable. You were out of breath as you climbed into the driver’s seat and threw the brush in the back.

You drove carefully down the side streets, snaking around as you knew the main fair would give away your escape. You stopped at the sign that pointed to the highway ramp and wondered. 

What if he had got the clue? What if you were running from nothing?

You remember the look in his eye and shivered. No, that glimmer assured you that return to your mother’s was as wise as it would be torturous. You followed the arrow and took the curve steadily with your foot planted on the gas. The traffic was slow and cautious as headlights were barely visible through the snowfall.

You gripped the wheel tightly and let out a breath. You would be gone before he knew. You’d get a new phone, a new job, a new life. Even if it was just pay-as-go, a McDonald’s visor, and your mother’s couch for a while. What good was a job in a place like Birch anyway? Just as good as your irrelevant degree.

You were startled and nearly lost control as a set of lights appeared behind you in the next lane. They were dangerously close to dinging your rear bumper as the reckless driver took a u-turn right before the upcoming barriers. You wrinkled your brow as you glared at them through the white haze. What kind of maniac was pulling shit like that in this weather?

And then, they did hit you. A nudge but enough to send you veering in the thick lines of snow. You clutched the wheel and tried to steer into it, tried to right yourself as you were knocked again. Your heart was in your throat as the engine revved and you hit your brakes, not knowing what else to do as a third collision came.

You spun out and hit the cement wall along the far lane, narrowly missing another car as it pulled ahead. You stilled, your seatbelt saving your face from a smack against the wheel, and stared down the highway as you stared at oncoming traffic. You were completely turned around on the arm.

You caught your breath and reached for your purse. Fuck, you had no phone. What was that asshole thinking? It didn’t seem like an accident.

The car that had bullied you into a crash pulled up along the barrier. You watched in the rear view as the barely visible tail lights glowed and a dark figure appeared between the car and the concrete. You squinted as the man neared, a long coat flapped around his tall figure as he held his hand to his face.

He came up beside your car as you heard his voice muffled through the glass and tapped on your window. He bent and knocked again as you shot him the finger. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind. You rolled down the window with the manual crank and growled, “what the fuck!?”

“Can I have your name, darling?” he asked in a sinisterly familiar accent.

“Screw you! You almost killed me!”

He turned his phone out as you screeched at him and quickly put it back to his ear, “that sound like her?”

A deep voice rumbled in the speaker and the dark-hair man nodded as he shielded his face from the blowing snow, “you owe me, brother.”

“Who the fuck are you?” you spat and reached to your glovebox. You grabbed the heavy flashlight and swung it at him, “get away--”

He caught with a leather-gloved hand and glared back at you. He tucked away the phone in his jacket. His nostrils flared and his green irises caught fire. 

“Let’s not do this, darling,” he warned, “my brother has given me clearance to use whatever force necessary…” he pushed the button and pulled open your door as he wrenched away the metal flashlight, “and while he seems the bigger brute, I assure you his cruelty cannot match mine.”

[onesussybaka]

Blurry Vision (Noco fic)

This is just an AU drabble that I wrote last night to satisfy an urge to write again. I might make this into a fic series, but I doubt it will be told in a linear fashion (A lot of fiction is written with a clearly defined linear narrative, so I figured this was important to mention). 

About this AU: 

Gen 1 are around 24-26. 

Only seasons 1-3 are canon. 

Cody is an accountant at an accounting firm while Noah is a hotshot celebrity writer.

Anyway, hope y’all enjoy it. 

The last time Cody was this stoned - actually, it had been so long ago, he completely forgot the feeling. 

He was sitting on Noah’s floor, his back leaning against his couch. He sighed. He hadn’t felt this carefree since college, probably even earlier. He was tempted to snag some corn chips from the coffee table, but was drawn to the book that laid there instead. It was one of the books Noah wrote. He grabbed the book and propped it open on his upper legs. It was the first one he wrote, too. Only a year and a half after Total Drama World Tour had finished. 

The narrative itself was something straight out of an apocalyptic nightmare. The depravity of the world he wrote portrayed a sadistic game in which peer was pitted against peer. In the end, however, only the mentally fittest were able to outwit the devious show runner. 

For some reason, it never sat well with Cody. 

“Huh. I knew that book would be a ticket to my success,” a droll voice interrupted his thoughts, “I knew going on three seasons of hell would finally pay off.” 

Cody turned to see Noah sitting on the couch, his leg crossed as he sipped on a martini he fixed in the kitchen. “Hey, Noah, I was just wondering...why does the smart character always win in your books?”

Noah looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Cody rubbed the back of his head. “Uhhh...you do remember how it all went down, right? No one ever tried to stop Chris back then. Like we all went along with the idea to just play the game and be humiliated on TV.” 

Noah sighed, his trademark surliness returning in high gear. “Alright, Cody. I think you’re a little zooted for your own good.” 

“Huh? No, I’m just asking you a question, man.”

Noah set his drink on the coffee table, trying to feign vapid annoyance. Underneath the disguise, however, he was surprised and caught off-guard by Cody’s intrusion of his privacy. He knew he could fix this situation without making a larger mess. 

“Uh, there’s no real reason. Trust me, don’t look too deep into it. People try to assign meaning to everything, Cody. It’s a dense way of looking at life.” 

Cody concentrated on the other young man’s words for a moment, allowing them to sink in before his focus was shattered. “Anyway,” Noah interrupted, “Don’t eat those corn chips. Let me treat you to a feast prepared by one of the best chefs in the whole country.” 

Cody managed a smile. Still as goofy looking as he did as a teenager. “Oh, really? You’d do that for me? Awesome! Thanks, Noah!” 

For Cody, it was painfully clear that Noah thought his question was bullshit and something he didn’t want to aggravate the issue further.

[wilhelmjfink]

29 & 39 & 10...if you’d like to ☺️ (also hi! Just found your account, I love your writing!)

hi hi thank you for requesting :,))) so I promise today I will update my master list but I have actually done two of these before! I think both of them can already be found under drabbles in my list (which aren’t drabbles cuz they end up being like 3 chapters cuz I have no self control) but I have not done #39(I think) so HERE SORRY NOT VERY FLUFFY I LOVE TO SUFFER

~

Watching Daryl pace back and forth, you didn’t quite understand why he was the one that was mad. Of course, you weren’t thrilled to be standing there outside of the prison walls while Merle had meandered off somewhere muttering about ‘taking a leak’, but it at least gave you some privacy to talk. At the rate you were going, though, he would come back soon, and Daryl still hasn’t spoken a word to you after you caught him trying to leave with his brother. Leave you behind — that’s what it looked like to you, really. Sneaking out like some hormonal teenager with no regards to anybody else’s feelings but his own.

Okay, now you were getting angry.

“Well?” You demanded, causing him to halt his wild animal pacing. He faced away from you, but you didn’t need to see his face to notice the way he squared his shoulders, the way his body stiffened at that one word. You deserved an explanation, at the least, and he wouldn’t even look you in the eyes.

And still, he remained silent.

You ground your teeth furiously trying perilously to keep your cool so he didn’t just fucking shut down and leave without so much as a ‘goodbye’. “Daryl!”

“What the fuck you want me to say, Y/N?” Despite your efforts, he still erupted like a volcano in seconds, spinning on his heels and throwing his arms out dramatically like lava spewing from his heart. “What d’you want from me, huh? Some sort of — of formal goodbye written on a card? A fuckin’ special — ”

You cut him off. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic! Can’t you just talk to me for once, without blowing up and getting so defensive? Not everybody is out to get you all the time, Daryl.”

Those stark blue eyes you’d grown so accustomed too narrowed in some mixture of anger and mistrust. You weren’t sure what feeling stirred up inside of you at the sight, but you didn’t like it. “This ain’t my fuckin’ fault, Y/N. Ya just had to follow me out here, didn’t ya?”

“Yeah, I did.” Almost, almost diffused at his sarcasm like he would be generally surprised that you wouldn’t just let him walk away after everything you’d been through, you closed the space between the two of you with a few short steps. You didn’t have much time to try and convince him — and in the back of your mind, no matter how much you tried to shove it down and smother it, was the harsh realization that whatever you said wouldn’t be able to keep him from leaving anyway. “I can’t just let you leave, Daryl...”

“You ain’t gotta ‘let’ me do nothin’!” He stepped back, of course, reopening that space instinctively so he had an exit strategy for when he inevitably decided the argument was a waste of time and left you anyway. “I didn’t ask to be part of — of... of whatever this is.” He gestured wildly around him. “Of whatever the fuck ya think this whole ‘we’ thing is. Y’all ain’t my family, and I don’t need ya.”

Ouch. He must’ve seen the way you deflated because for one split second — so quick, you would’ve have noticed it if hadn’t been staring at him intently — he faltered. But it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

“You can’t stand here and tell me you don’t care about us!”

“I did everythin’ I could to keep y’all safe! To keep us alive. To look for that damn girl, and it meant fuckin’ nothin’!”

“It meant everything, Daryl!”

“It was a waste of damn time, and it meant nothin’ to nobody, Y/N.”

You swallowed hard; Merle was whistling as he approached from the tree line somewhere. “It meant everything to us, D — to me! Fuck, it meant.... you... I just... I... ”

Oh, Christ. Here come the waterworks. You tried to clear your throat in hopes that it would cover the way your voice broke pathetically at the apprehension that he was really going to leave.

“What?” He barked, startling you in the slightest. “Ya what, Y/N?”

Fuck it. Fuck him. “You’re so fucking thick, Daryl! Jesus Christ — it didn’t mean fucking nothing! You put us all first, every one of us, every single time, before yourself, and you act like that doesn’t mean anything to us! You are the most selfless person I’ve ever met — I mean, you saved my life, Daryl, for no fucking reason other than you care! That’s why I fucking fell in love with you! You care, and I know it’s true!”

You were surprised, to say the least, that his mannerisms softened just the slightest bit, and he didn’t reply.

“Whatever. Fine. Just go. If we mean that little to you — if I mean that little to you, then... just go.”

And you turned on your heels as Merle sauntered up, a slimy grin on his face, trying your best to ignore whatever it was he had to say.

That shit hurt. But, you’d been hurt before. And like all wounds, it would heal.... eventually.

[taetaespeaches]

“You’re a honey boy.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.5K

a/n: Here’s some soft Yoongi for our honey boy’s birthday! It’s the first date between the kid/min couple, and it’s the drabble immediately following my previously written drabble, “You know, in Casablanca he lets the girl go.” Let’s get soft y’all. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! :)) 

And happy birthday to the honey-est of all honey boys. 

SITTING across from Yoongi in the small café, you admired his features as he scanned the breakfast menu. His eyes were focused, squinting as he read the small print, which caused the top of the bridge of his nose to crinkle a bit.

“You should be looking at your menu,” he mumbled, looking up at you through his lashes, a small shy smile taking its place on his features. When he smiled, the corners of his mouth curved up into his soft cheeks.

“I like your cheeks,” you replied, unabashedly. It was the truth.

“My cheeks?” He asked in surprise, a look of shock taking over his face. You simply nodded, holding back a smile as you took a sip of your coffee.

Yoongi shook his head, letting out a mixture of a scoff and laugh as he closed his menu. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually show up today,” he admitted, looking down at his hands that were wrapped around his coffee mug.

“It was a tough decision,” you teased him, Yoongi smiling as his gaze remained on the steaming black drink. “Consider yourself lucky.” Your date nodded his head at you, bringing his mug towards his mouth.

“Oh, I’m definitely counting my lucky stars,” he assured, looking into your orbs. “Thinking of getting some lottery tickets after this.” You giggled at the comment as Yoongi took a drink.

A sense of relief washed over you at his confession that he had been nervous you wouldn’t show up for your loosely planned date. You had purposely given him an easy out, and you were prepared to find yourself alone at the corner store where you were meant to meet. However, when the store came into view when you arrived earlier in the morning and you spotted Yoongi doing a double take as his gaze found you, you couldn’t stop the wide smile and giddy wave you greeted him with.  

Before you even took notice of the silence that encompassed you both at the table, Yoongi broke it with a timid question. “This isn’t too awkward, is it?”

Closing the menu, you shook your head. “No,” you flashed him an assuring smile. “It’s actually pretty comfortable for a first date.”

“Good,” he nodded. “I haven’t been on a date in a while.”

The shy look on his face made your heart clench and before you could respond, the waitress came by to take your orders. You watched as Yoongi ordered his meal, his lips in a natural pout as he spoke, nodding his head gently as he looked up at the waitress through his blonde fringe.

After the waitress departed, Yoongi’s gaze found you once again and you gave him an embarrassed smile. “I looked you up last night,” you admitted bashfully.

A gummy smile immediately overtook Yoongi’s face before he gained a bit of composure and shot you a grin, his teeth lightly biting his bottom lip. “That so?”

“Oh, don’t get cocky,” you smiled. “I was just curious about you.”

“And what did you learn?” He asked, straightening his posture a bit as he continued to smirk at you.

“Well, supposedly you like to sleep.”

“Who doesn’t?” He countered, to which you smiled.

“Good point,” you agreed. “Apparently, you’re the intimidating member,” you smiled a bit wider. Yoongi chuckled before shrugging cockily as if to say of course I’m intimidating. You smirked as you prepared to wipe the smug look right off his face. “Yeah, see, I didn’t get why you were the intimidating one because ya know, you’re so soft. But then I found out that some of your fans call you a honey boy and that made much more sense.”

A soft tinge of pink flushed Yoongi’s cheeks as he shook his head, looking down at his coffee mug before taking a sip of it. As he swallowed the bitter black drink, he let a breathy chuckle slip out.

“I also learned that you’re a dedicated producer,” you smiled softly. Yoongi looked embarrassed again as he gave you a shy close-mouthed grin, nodding slightly. “I listened to your mixtape.”

At that, his eyes widened expectantly, a clear sign that he wanted to know your thoughts on it.  

“You’re a talented dude, Min. I mean, I’ve heard some of your group’s music before, so I already knew all of you guys are talented, but, I don’t know,” you trailed off as you gathered your thoughts, Yoongi watching you patiently. “I don’t know much about music, I just know when I like something and when something hits deep. And that’s what your songs did. I was really impressed.”

Yoongi smiled softly, a sincere gratitude displayed in his gaze. “Thank you, Kid.”

You nodded before dropping your gaze to the tabletop, suddenly shy over your confession and the term of endearment you had already grown to adore. His hand was resting toward the middle of the wooden surface and you were tempted to reach across and take his hand in yours. Instead, you looked back up at Yoongi who was watching you intently, his eyes scanning over your features as if he was admiring a painting for the first time.

A blush crept onto your cheeks in response to his gaze. “Anyways,” you let out a single breathy laugh. “I didn’t look at much more than that.”

“No?” He asked, wearing a fond grin.

“I was tempted,” you smirked, “but I guess I want to get to know you through getting to know you. Does that make sense?” Yoongi nodded, and if it was even possible, his expression became even fonder. “God, I’m so embarrassed for even telling you all that,” you laughed at yourself.

Yoongi softly chuckled at you as he shook his head. “Don’t be,” he assured you. “It’s flattering.”

“Not stalker-ish?” You joked.

Yoongi laughed. “Only a little bit,” he joked back.

As silence fell over you both, your gazes locked on each other’s for a moment. Both you and Yoongi pulled scrutinizing faces before breaking into small grins. As you looked down to your mug, watching the steam rise off the top, Yoongi shifted his gaze out the window.

Looking up through your lashes, you stared at Yoongi, taking in the delicateness of his side profile. You appreciated the curve of his jaw. Your eyes paused on the pout of his lips, taking their time before scanning up to his perfectly boopable nose. His nose scrunched a bit and you had to hold yourself back from audibly cooing.

His cheeks were your next target. Those cheeks may have been your favorite feature on him. They made him look soft and gentle. As you thought about the hope that you’d be able to place multiple kisses to those cheeks, they fluffed up as his mouth formed into a close-mouthed smile.

“You’re making me nervous,” he mumbled before turning to you, a gummy grin replacing the smaller one. He’s so endearing.

“And you’re the intimidating one,” you smiled, Yoongi letting out a breathy laugh. “Hey, how did your friend like the card?”

Yoongi chuckled at the memory of Hoseok coming into his bedroom at the dorm the previous night, thanking him for coming by his ‘Daydream’ video shoot for his debut mixtape.  

As the younger man left the room, only getting a “yeah, of course,” from Yoongi, Hoseok grinned from ear to ear.

“Thanks for the card. Really think I’m a rock star?”

“Shut up,” Yoongi told him with a small grin. “A friend of mine helped me pick it out.”

“A friend?” Hoseok questioned in surprise.

That’s when Yoongi told him about his date with you. And when Hobi left the room, that’s when Yoongi grew curious of you, searching you up on Instagram.

However, Yoongi didn’t tell you all of that. He simply said, “he liked it.”

“Did he think the rock star line was cute?” You smiled giddily.

“Yes,” Yoongi let out a breathy laugh, his shoulders shaking in the way you already learned you loved. “He thought the rock star line was cute.”

“Good,” you gave a single nod.

The waitress brought your meals and you and Yoongi immediately dug in, grabbing various condiments from each other as you shoved your mouths full, completely forgetting first date etiquette. Yoongi hummed in approval and you gave a more exaggerated hum in response.

Nodding at him from across the table, he struggled to hold back a smile as he finished chewing the massive bite of food he just took. When he got it down, his mouth formed into an attractive gummy smile, and though you were still learning his expressions, you had a feeling it was a bit mischievous.

With your mouth still full, your eyes widened as you mumbled a “what” through your closed lips. Yoongi started breathily laughing as he shook his head, as if to say nothing. You swallowed the food and asked him again, this time audibly.

He brought his hand to the back of his neck for a moment as his smile turned a bit bashful. “I was just wondering if now would be a good time to tell you that I searched you up on Instagram last night.”

You gasped dramatically as your mouth formed into a wide smile. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Yoongi laughed at both himself and your reaction as he nodded.

“You just sat there and let me confess all that without saying a word, oh my god, betrayal on the first date,” you complained through your smile.  

Yoongi was full on laughing as he leaned his head against his hand, his eyes in crescents and his gummy smile on display.

Shaking your head, you joined him in laughter. “Ok, Min, what did you find out about me?”

He took a drink of his coffee as his laughing faded out, looking at you with a small smile. “Not a lot, actually. You don’t post a whole lot.”

“Mm, not ideal for stalking,” you teased, Yoongi chuckling as he nodded.

“But you should really have a protection lock on your account,” he told you through a pout. “You never know who’s gonna come look through your photos, you should be more careful.”

“Are you lecturing me right now? Is that what this is?” You asked with wide eyes, holding back a laugh as your lips curved upward. Lifting his hand up to wave you off, you spoke before he could correct you. “Already playing the role of protective boyfriend huh?” As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted them, but found yourself relieved by Yoongi’s adorable reaction.

Yoongi’s lips curved into a bashful smile as he averted his eyes from yours, looking down to his plate, his cheeks heating up. “I’m just saying,” he told you shyly.

“You know, I think you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met,” you bit your lip as he looked up at you in surprise. “Your fans are right. You’re a honey boy.”

Yoongi tried to hold back his growing smile but failed to conceal it, flashing you that stunning gummy grin that you were already beyond fond of. That smile will be the death of me. He shook his head in disagreement, despite the smile still sitting on his face.

When you finished your meals, you and Yoongi both looked at the check and then at each other. In the blink of an eye, you both moved quickly as you threw your hands out trying to grab it first. Your hands got there at the same time, and though your hand was on top of the ticket, his was on top of yours which was quite the effective distraction.  

“I’m paying,” you told him, making his eyes scrunch together.

“Like hell you are,” he replied, making you chuckle despite trying to be serious.

“I am,” you insisted, trying to pick the check up, only for Yoongi to wrap his hand around yours. “I asked you out.”

“I don’t care,” he told you, intertwining his fingers with yours, your heart racing at the simple gesture.

“Yoongi,” you scolded.

His thumb ran along the side of your hand as he smirked at you. “Kid.”

“Just let me get this,” you whined, your date chuckling in response.

“Don’t be silly,” he said simply, using his free hand to grab the check and reluctantly letting go of your hand as he stood up.

“Dammit, Min,” you complained, Yoongi shooting you a sly grin.

“Come on, Kid,” he told you as he walked to the cash register to pay.

Stepping outside of the café after paying, you shook your head at him as he smiled at you. “I’m glad we did this,” he said as you stood outside awkwardly, not sure what else to say.

“Me too,” you nodded. “Enough to want to do it again?”

At that, Yoongi smiled widely, nodding. He pulled out his phone, unlocking it and tapping the screen a few times before holding it out to you. “Here, put your number inside.” You took the phone and saw he had already filled in the contact name with “Kid”.

You smiled, looking up at him for a moment to see him pretending to play it cool as he looked off to the side of you both, holding back a grin. You typed your number in and added the flame and the star-eyed emojis next to Kid, making it “Kid 🔥🤩”. Handing the phone back to him, you waited for the upward curve of his lips as he saw the addition to your contact name. Looking up at you, he gave a shake of his head, letting out a breathy chuckle.

“The ball is in your court now, Min,” you told him, holding your hand out for him to shake. He looked at your hand and the soft smile on his face became just a bit softer as he placed his hand in yours, shaking it. You both kept your limbs in the embrace for a moment as you stared at each other. Yoongi squeezed your hand before leaning toward you and left a sweet lingering kiss to your cheek. The touch of his lips on your face was gentle, which is exactly what you would have expected from him.

“I’ll text you, Kid,” he whispered before letting go of your hand and stepping back.  

You nodded as Yoongi began walking backward, putting distance between you both but refusing to look away just yet. “I’ll be waiting by the phone, Honey Boy.” With that, you took one last look at his precious smile before turning around and walking away.

Not even five minutes later, your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Pulling it out, you saw that it was from an unsaved number. Opening the text, it read, “You still waiting?”

You smiled at the device, a small giggle leaving your lips as you typed out a response.

“Always.”

You saved his name as “honey boy 🍯”. Truly, the honey-est of all honey boys.

[ziggyzagreus]

The Craftsman’s Son

[Note: Hey y’all! So, I mentioned briefly in an ask reply to @silverwindsblog that I have an OC design and layout for Icarus!!! But, since I am not an artist, I have to write a bunch of drabbles about Icarus instead!!

I intend to make this a recurring series, basically just Zagreus meeting Icarus from time to time throughout the regions... It would mean a lot to me if you guys would let me know what you think!!! I have had ceaseless brainworms about Icarus since I started Hades and found he wasn’t in it. Feel free to tell me what you think of him, I can also use prompts/feedback as ideas for more drabbles with him!]

[AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960650/chapters/71065722 ]

[Summary: In Zagreus' many escape attempts, he runs into a mournful Shade who knows a thing or two of failed escape attempts. 

Icarus wanders alone through the levels of the Underworld, too afraid to face his father, even if the man weren't cursed to never see his son again.

Zagreus once again tried to pull some strings with his father's contracts.]

~~~

Chapter 1.

The chambers in which Daedalus forgot his tools were always empty of genuine company when Zagreus arrived – no sign of the master architect before nor following confrontation with any shades commanded to cease the Prince’s forward venture.

Emptier still, were the chambers before much more threatening foes, the terror at the brink of every region. Zagreus had been hoping for Charon’s shop, but instead heard over the bubbling lava of Asphodel the familiar chime of a blessing. Even from a shade, and one who was so meticulous in life now cursed to be somewhat forgetful with his things, the improvements granted by Daedalus’ craft were nothing short of miracles.

Rounding the corner and bounding up the few stairs into that waiting chamber, what Zagreus did not intend to see was a figure already at the tool itself, examining the binding at its handle with such familiarity that the Prince would take to dismiss.

Zagreus slowed his fiery pace and entered the room calmly, though his heart pounded in wary anticipation. “There is usually no one to greet me at these things, mate. I do hope you’re not some new, frightening instillation sent by my father to keep me from getting to that hammer.”

The shade looked up then, wide eyes a dark brown that would be welcoming if not for the hollow expression they took on. The shade was that of a young man, tousled brown locks curling about his ears and in every form of heedless unkempt. The shoulder of his chiton was clasped with one firm buckle, leaving much of his torso bare, as bare as his feet on the thankfully cool stones. Not that shades could feel much, that were, but Zagreus still cringed to think of this young man wandering about the flaming coals with nothing but the skin of his toes as a barrier.

The shade spoke then, and his voice was the deep timbre of a young man past adolescence – yet it carried a wispy, wistful nature of sorrow to soften it. Zagreus’ eyes came back to his face, met those eyes. “No, it would do me no good to believe I could cause you trouble. Just passing through at the same time, so it seems. Would you… like me to fix up that blade for you?”

He gestured toward Stygius, held firmly in the Prince’s grasp, and the creak of wood and leather, the rustle of feathers suddenly drew Zagreus’ focus away from his face and now to the tattered, scorched skeleton of wings fastened to the shade’s arms. The leather straps of harness bound to his shoulders and over his pectorals was clasped with welded metal, but the wood and wax of those wings melted in bubbled white scarring – melted, combined with the skin of his muscled arms and marred back.

“You’re Icarus,” Zagreus blurted out, and instantly regretted the insensitivity. He had heard of the tragedy of Daedelus’ son, heard how the father mourned in sorrow just as much as his anger. Zagreus did not expect to meet the boy himself at all, figured he had been cast into one of the lesser shades wandering Tartarus for some crime of little achievement.

Icarus huffed a soft, bitter laugh, lips curling into a delicate smile. “I am. Does that surprise you? Son of the great Daedalus wandering about, picking up his father’s forgotten tools instead of working at his side.”

Zagreus stepped forward, comfortable now in the knowledge that he would be done no harm, but guilty curiosity swept over him in this unfortunate legend’s presence. “Not really, just… Well, I’ve never seen your father about these parts either. Always seem to miss him, I usually find his hammers to fix up my own weapons and be on my way.”

“Well, leave that to me, then. You look like you could take a rest.”

Zagreus nodded and handed Stygius over, watching as Icarus examined the blade delicately, the muscles of his tattered arms shifting as he held and hefted the blade to check for imperfections. “This will be better done by the hands of an apprentice craftsman himself, no doubt. Thanks, mate. Really.”

“It’s my pleasure, good Prince. Wouldn’t do well for you to be running forward complacent in this blade’s integrity. I’ll have it fixed up in no time.”

Icarus got to work. Zagreus watched, the clanging of metal ringing in his ears, reverberating off the cavernous chamber, the stalactites above and the stone tiled floors, the rock walls surrounding them. Despite the state of his body, Icarus worked quickly, much more surely with the tool and the blade than Zagreus had in his own attempts to improve his weapon. Being in the Underworld alleviated him of the hurts of mortals, and while the lingering scars remained, his movement was uninhibited by anything more than the remaining bulk of the wings.

“Have you seen your father about, Icarus? One day – or, er, night – I’d like to thank him for his skill. Even with only one of his tools and little crafting knowledge, I can usually make something of my weapons.”

Icarus stiffened slightly for a moment, his smooth motions interrupted with a pause. Zagreus cringed, knowing immediately he had broached an uncomfortable topic. Much like when he pestered Eurydice about Orpheus and she grew heated, Zagreus felt a guilt bloom from that curiosity that still did little to quench it.

“I have not,” Icarus replied sorrowfully. “Part of my father’s sentence here is to work without furthering his legacy. And that means I will never complete my apprenticeship.”

The Prince’s brow furrowed, laurel sizzling. “But thousands of mortals read his writings, follow his plans and skills up on the surface, surely that accounts for something? Daedalus’ legacy is everywhere, even in the walls of my father’s house. How does that make sense to be his curse?”

Icarus shrugged and held up the hammer. “He’s not the man he once was. There are flaws in even the finest of his architecture, now. And the other humans cannot copy exactly what his intentions were.”

“Oh. I… think I see. Still though, surely you’re bound to run into him one time or another, picking up after him like this.”

Icarus frowned again. He resumed the work on Stygius, nearing the end of his repairs and brow furrowed in a thoughtful brood. “Forgive my bluntness, Prince, but I don’t think I could face my father even if given the chance. Here is your blade, how does it feel?” He dropped the hammer handle-first into a slim loop on his belt, the weight tugging the leather down just slightly, but seeming at home tucked against the apprentice’s side.

Zagreus acknowledged the subtle suggestion to change topics, and took Stygius. It felt lighter, somehow, and cleaner. He spun it experimentally a few times, rolling his wrist to follow the motion. It felt lighter, but more lethal. He wondered if it would be possible to pierce armor, now. “Razor sharp.”

Icarus smiled softly, a pitiful twitch of the expression registering on his sad face. “It is. Do be careful, good Prince. I… I know you are determined in your path, so I will not tell you to turn back. But do not underestimate your foes. No amount of confidence makes you impervious to error.”

“I will be careful, thank you, mate. Where will you be next?”

“Somewhere my father had been before, most likely. I hope we do not meet too often, for your success in escaping this place. I know a thing or two of failed escapes.” Icarus looked down, once again exhaling that brief huff as if he had said something painfully ironic; in all fairness, he had. But Zagreus knew it not his place to take any humor in this shade’s cruel fate.

Zagreus nodded, and rest Stygius on his shoulder, walking ahead while waving back. “Until next time then, Icarus. I wish you well in the meantime.”

To be continued...

[lovingonrepeat]

Okay so I just had a thought, it’s on the verge of like soft dom energy but just bare with me. So you’re in a club or something so is Jaehyun, blah blah he brings you home. So y’all are kissing and undressing and he shifts you guys so he’s hovering over you. “So do you have any preferences babe?” Cocking an eyebrow you say “I like anything and everything babe, but what I would really like is for your face to be in between my legs right now” and while you were saying that he had kinda shifted

So he was close yo your center anyways. But he glances up at you with a little cocky smirk adorning his face and says “What makes you think I’m gonna go down on you?” And you say “Mhm I’m thinking about a lot of things right now baby, but the fact that that mouth of yours is practically right over my pussy tells me that you wanted a taste. So pretty boy, why don’t you put that little mouth of yours to work.” With his devilishly little smirk still proudly plastered on his face he says

“Mh feisty, I’ll do it, but daddy wants to hear your pretty moans baby.” Impatiently you quickly lift up startling Jaehyun and firmly running your hands into his hair. Gripping it, you tug it back eliciting the most gorgeous moan you’d ever heard. “Cute, daddy likes his hair pulled.” Whispering more seductively, but with a commanding tone, “If daddy wants to hear anything from me, you’re gonna have to start with being a good boy first.” Directing his face to your center with your hands still in

His hair you let go. Jaehyun looks up at you, you can see that he’s still dazed from you pulling his hair, but in catching your stare he returns it with a challenging glint. Tauntingly you say “Oh is daddy sacred? C’mon daddy you wanted to hear my sounds didn’t you? Put that dirty little mouth to work.” Driving into like you’re his last meal, he makes you feel so good. Moaning out praises “fuck s’all you’re good for huh? Using that pretty face to make me cum on your tongue. Such a good boy.”

Jaehyun can’t help but moan into you at hearing your praise. Hearing shuffling you glance to the side and see he rutting against the bed. Smirking to yourself you knew you had found your perfect little sub. Phew 😳 lol this wasn’t supposed to turn into a mini drabble but uh, hope you enjoy. I’m gonna go hide now ☺️

Anon, your writing is good! You should create an account and write this out, and flesh it out a little more and turn it into an entire one-shot! I would totally support you if you do, and if you ever do, let me know so I can follow you!

I’m honestly not really into daddy kinks in any capacity, but I love your writing and storybuilding! And I hope some of my followers enjoy it as well! Have a great day, anon! :D

[trulyhopelessromantic]

HELLO,, what are some writing tips you have for, like, getting a habit/routine going? how do you stay in the groove even when the groove doesn’t want to exist!!! 💛

Thank you for this wonderful question!

So we’re gonna bounce around a bit on this one I hope you don’t mind! 

First, I encourage you to check out this vlog from my Patreon which talks about ‘Writer’s Block’ where I mention a few good tips about writing when nothing is seemingly there for ya in your head! Apologies for the music in the background if it bothers you at all haha I was young and foolish when making vlogs then... :P

Here’s another vlog regarding ‘Inspiration

Now if y’all don’t have time to watch the vlogs right now (I get it; they’re a bit long haha) I’ll give you two tips (no maybe 3 haha) right now:

Freewrite. Literally just start writing something; anything. It could look like: “this is stupid why don’t I have ideas. ??? Oh gosh I’m hungry. Ok BLAH” or it could be writing something with no pressure like a drabble prompt/writing prompt to just write something outside of your current WIP. OR take a look at a picture and describe it. That kinda stuff! When you start writing anything that comes to mind, it turns the brain on to say: oh we have words on a page/on the screen! We. are. Writing! Then try going and writing in your WIP and you may have an easier time now that you’re ‘warmed up’! ^_^

SCHEDULE TIME TO WRITE AND DEFEND IT WITH YOUR LIFE. This means not letting other people take it away from you but (most importantly for me anyway) don’t let yourself take it away! NO EXCUSES, no procrastination, etc. This is what I’ve done recently. I told myself that I know my best times to write and I will write during those times. As much as I love writing, sometimes you do have to treat it like a job with a schedule that you need to show up for and stick to no matter what! And as this is November where most people write an entire novel for NaNoWriMo I decided that a challenge would be helpful so:

Set a challenge for yourself. Perhaps it is to see how many consecutive days you can get writing done? Perhaps it’s trying to beat your previous day’s new word count? Perhaps it’s a combo of both? I find it helps when I feel accountable to my challenge and what motivates me is sharing my challenge publicly and posting everyday on how I’m doing on it (as I am doing right now). It’s done wonders for me who procrastinates and uses excuses of “no time now” or “I’m tired now”. :)

Alright I’ll leave you here! And if you don’t mind, I’m going to share this with my Patreon audience too this week!

Best of luck with your writing and take care! I look forward to hearing how you get on with your writing! :D

-Brittany xoxo

[ddaenggtan]

give and take | knj

when your beloved jeep breaks down, you have no choice but to take it to a mechanic for once instead of trying to fix it yourself. you fully expected to empty your wallet or get told to just buy a new car. you don’t expect to meet kim namjoon, nor do you expect him to be hot like burning, sweet as honey, and interested in you.

pairing | kim namjoon x reader

genre/warnings | mechanic!namjoon, fluff (seriously so fluffy), smut: hickeys, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all), dirty talk, dom!namjoon, brat!reader if you squint, creampie, slight mentions of choking

word count | 10.5k 

cross posted to ao3

a/n: ayyyyyy i’m finally finished with this monstrosity!! it was supposed to be a short smutty drabble and yet HERE WE ARE bc i’m a slut for namjoon, both emotionally and physically. pls pls pls let me know what y’all think!! i’m doing my best out here in the world, but i always love to hear what people think about my work!! 

You groan, for possibly the millionth time that afternoon, as your jeep sputters to a halt once more. You’ve had JeepJeep since you first got your license, a gift from your parents since they were getting a new car anyway. Held together with duct tape, prayers, and more than one swift kick to the bumper, the thing has gotten you through your entire school career and then into the big wide world of adulthood.

Now, as you sit in the nearly-empty lot of a mechanic, not even properly parked because your jeep died not two seconds after you pulled in, you feel like crying. Fixing this will cost everything you have. There is no doubt in your mind that this is going to be expensive. Probably expensive enough to wipe out what little you still have in your bank account after grocery shopping yesterday, if you aren’t forced to dip into the meager savings you have put back.

With a resigned sigh, you pop off a quick text to your best friend, heave yourself out of the jeep, and head through the open garage door. There’s a couple of cars up on lifts, parts strewn around them haphazardly, and faint music thrumming from somewhere, but you don’t see any actual people around.

“Hello?” You call hesitantly into the large room. There’s no response, which irritates you a little. First your jeep dies - possibly for the last time, not that you want to think about that right now, keep hoping, you remind yourself - and then you spend four hours getting ten miles to the closest mechanic so you didn’t have to pay for a tow only for there to be no one fucking here.

“Fuck this,” You tell yourself, sidestepping what looks like a car battery, and make your way further into the building. Music is still vibrating through your bones, there has to be someone in this rusty old shop somewhere, and you are on a mission, dammit. JeepJeep requires immediate attention, especially if you want to get home at any kind of decent time tonight.

The shop, you discover as you follow the sound of deep bass, is a minefield. There’s a truly ridiculous number of parts and tools you couldn’t name even if you wanted, all of them just thrown about like a four-year-old’s discarded toy. You think you may see a chainsaw in the corner and for the first time, you wonder if wandering around a potentially-abandoned-but-possibly-still-inhabited auto shop alone is a good idea. Do it for JeepJeep, you tell yourself, steeling yourself as you pass the Maybe A Chainsaw. Light gleams off grimy windows just past it, and the music seems to be coming from there. You give the tools - and the possible murder weapon - a wide berth, making your way to the lone door that you see. It’s nearly impossible to see through the windows of what looks to be the office, but the door itself is open, a lone figure sitting at a desk inside.

You knock gently against the open door and plant a friendly smile on your face. “Hi, sorry to bother you, my car died and I was just wondering if you could take a look at it?” The words rush out before the person - a guy, you belatedly notice - can tell you to get lost. When he spins around in the chair, your breath catches in your throat and you think you may actually physically choke.

He’s honestly gorgeous. Like…the hottest person on the face of the planet, gorgeous. Warm eyes blown wide with surprise and framed by strong dark brows, a jawline that makes you wonder why he needs the chainsaw lying around, bleach-blonde hair hidden away under a dark blue cap that matches the jumpsuit hanging around his waist revealing the most beautiful sight of that chest in just the white tee with grease stains that shouldn’t be so attractive. It’s all beautiful, but what gets the heat pooling between your legs is the sight of the long fingers. They aren’t even doing anything erotic, just wrapped around a thick book and a pen, clearly having been in the middle of writing something when you interrupted.

“Sorry,” He says quickly, fingers reaching out to slide over a button somewhere. The music softens, no longer shaking your bones, but that only makes you more aware of how hard your heart is beating. “I thought I had the closed sign on the door, I must have forgotten. You said your car died?”

It takes you a second to find words, and you’re grateful when he doesn’t judge. “Yes,” You say, filling your voice with the confidence you usually save for unruly customers at work, “Yes, my jeep. It’s out front, I just kind of left it since it wouldn’t start back up again. I really just need someone to take a look at it and tell me what to tape together so it’ll run again.”

He laughs, soft and sweet, and you never want to hear another sound in your life, but he sets the pen and the book to the side and stands. “I can certainly try,” The guy says, waving for you to follow him out to the lot.

You do, though it becomes quickly apparent that the wide berth you gave the chainsaw should have been saved for this walking hurricane. He manages to run into or knock over nearly everything on the way out, barrelling through areas you’d avoided due to clutter and just sliding things out of the way for you. He’s got a pretty blush on his cheeks when you finally emerge into the waning sunlight, and it warms you more than you expected. You’ve never seen someone so clumsy be so damned endearing.

“So, what exactly has been going on with your jeep?” He asks. You give him a brief rundown of all the things that have been patched in the years you’ve had your darling vehicle and go into more detail about the chinkchinkchunk sound it made right before it died in the middle of the turn lane outside the store where you worked. He tells you to pop the hood and you do. You don’t even take offense to the choking noise he gives upon seeing what’s left of the engine block and the several rolls of tape holding everything together. He manages to cover it with a cough, but you know what your engine looks like, and have no illusions about the disaster it must be to a mechanic.

“Uh…no offense, but I’m honestly a little surprised that it ran at all,” His voice echoes as you exit the car and come to stand by him. He scratches at his jaw, leaving a small trail of grease behind that your fingers itch to wipe off. You startle a little as he makes eye contact, but you can’t help but return the soft, shy smile that he wears. “I can definitely try, we’ll get her up on a lift to take a better look at everything, but I can’t make any promises. Uh…hold on, let me-” He stops and pats at his clothes before he turns, jogging into the garage once more.

You sigh a little as you turn to look back at JeepJeep’s engine, patting the side lightly. There are so many memories in this jeep, you don’t want to go buy a new car, nevermind that you can’t even afford it. Just a quick look and you can see where you hot-glued two of the tubes back together when they split outside your school, where you had to tape a belt back into one piece on the side of a highway at 3 a.m. with an ex-boyfriend holding the flashlight, the time you got stuck outside a McDonald’s and had to use no less than a hundred straws and four rolls of tape to form a funnel so your coolant could fill enough to get the thing home without catching fire. And that's just the engine, there are so many more things that happened in this jeep, so many memories and milestones that you don’t want to end up in a junkyard somewhere.

A loud crash from inside the garage breaks you from your thoughts, and you start to get worried by the suspicious silence that follows it. You wait a few moments, but there’s just a deafening silence hanging in the air. It takes a second but eventually you decide you cannot in good conscience wait by your dead jeep while this random, insanely hot mechanic bleeds out under some Honda. It’s just as you step forward that said mechanic stumbles out of the garage, clipboard in one oil-smeared hand while his other massages a spot on his (incredibly strong looking, holy shit) thigh.

He lights up when he sees you still there, as if he thought you would leave while he was gone. Your heart skips a beat at the thought.

“Okay so! Just fill out some quick information for me here, as best you can,” He hands you the clipboard and a pen and you dutifully start writing down your name, number, and information about JeepJeep. “As I said, we can’t guarantee we can fix…all of this, but we’ll do our best. The diagnostic will help figure out everything that’s really important to get her up and running, so we’ll do that first thing, and then call you with an estimate for labor and parts.”

“That sounds perfect, thank you so much,” You reply, truly grateful. Every other mechanic you’ve been to in the last two years had taken one look and immediately written the thing off as a lost cause. It’s touching to know this guy was at least going to try. You hand the papers back with a smile, ignoring the slight flush that comes over you when you look up to see him already looking at you. He turns a pretty shade of pink and averts his eyes.

“So, all I need now is your car key, if you don’t mind.” He says. You hurry to comply, sliding it off your keyring just as a horn honks behind you. You turn to see Taehyung’s car idling just outside the lot, the man himself waving at you before settling in. He's entirely too accustomed to this routine, and you decide to buy him some noodles soon to pay him back.

The sound of your name coming from the mechanic’s lips has you turning around, pink-cheeked, and you give an embarrassed smile. “Yep, that’s me,” You joke. “I gotta go, but take care of her…?” You trail off, never having gotten the guy’s name.

“Namjoon,” He says quickly, almost dropping the clipboard in his haste to pull his jumpsuit up and show you the name stitched into it. “Kim Namjoon. I’ll take care of her, don’t worry. We’ll call you soon.” His smile is blinding, and you want to dive in headfirst to the dimples that appear but Taehyung’s horn beeps before you can.

“Thank you again, Namjoon, so much,” You say as you grab your bag from the passenger’s side of your jeep and hurry off to slide in beside Taehyung, who immediately starts whining about how his own shift at work had gone.

You can’t stop yourself from looking out the side mirror as Namjoon’s image gets smaller and smaller, and you find yourself looking forward to when you'll see him again. 

As it turned out, that would be much sooner than you originally thought. The shop calls you the very next day, a very bubbly sounding guy who introduces himself as Hoseok telling you that it won’t be nearly as expensive as you first thought and that though it'll take a week or two, they have faith that they can get JeepJeep running again.

You could cry, you'e so relieved. How they’re going to do such a thing is a mystery to you, especially for such a cheap price, but you aren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Any other shop in town would’ve been sure to charge you out the ass for such a thing, and your bank account would never have been able to recover from such a hefty price tag. You would’ve paid it, of course, because JeepJeep is everything to you, but you would’ve been back to your diet of instant noodles for a while if you had.

You can’t help but wonder if this is normal for their garage, or if it's a special case. As much as you want to think that it's because Namjoon is interested in the same way you are, it’s more likely whoever runs the place took one look at your heap of wishes and hushed prayers and was intrigued at the challenge of fixing such a piece of junk. Or that they were just cheaper in an attempt to poach business from other shops, because if they do manage to fix JeepJeep then you’re never going to another mechanic again in your life. Especially if Namjoon keeps working there, because that man-

You force the thought out of your mind, focusing instead on the work ahead of you.

You last four days. Four whole days before you finally cave and go to see how your jeep is doing without your loving kick to the rear and possibly also catch a glimpse of Namjoon while there. Taehyung applauded you on your restraint, though it was somewhat sarcastic, but you honestly don’t care. You love that jeep and you have to know if it’s in pieces or if they’re actually fixing it. Taehyung had no idea what he was talking about when he asked dryly why you’re wearing the shorts that cling in all the right places and the top that highlights your chest in all the ways you love just to go check on a jeep.

You mentally rescind your earlier note to buy him noodles as you make your way to the garage.

What you’re expecting to find at the shop, you aren’t entirely sure. In the deepest part of your heart, you want to see JeepJeep looking shiny and new and running perfectly already, but you are fully aware of how unlikely that is. You’re already getting a miracle, you don’t need to tempt fate. Still, the idea has planted itself so firmly in your mind that walking up to the shop at three in the afternoon and seeing your precious baby up on a lift with the parts you’d lovingly taped or glued back together thrown to the side in a haphazard pile almost brings tears to your eyes.

Indeed, it likely would have, had you not immediately heard a beautifully rumbling voice barking orders.

You step forward again and contain your surprise at how different the garage looks when it’s full of people. At first glance, you don’t see him, but after getting close enough to stand right at the edge of the open garage door, you spot him. You expect the rush of blood to your face, but you don’t expect the way your knees go wobbly and the sudden flip of your stomach.

If you thought he looked good the first time you met, it was nothing compared to now. The jumpsuit is buttoned halfway up his chest, giving the slightest peek to the white shirt underneath. The long sleeves running down his arms are pushed up to his elbows, which only highlights the way the material hangs off his biceps and complements the tan of his forearms. He still has that blue cap on, but the shy smile is gone, as is the pretty redness on his cheeks. He looks much more serious now, barking orders out to a couple of his coworkers as he looks up from the heavy book in his hands to the undercarriage of your jeep. The lid of a highlighter is stuck in the corner of his mouth, and his brows are drawn together in complete focus.

As you watch, doing your very best to not think about how absolutely hot like burning this guy is, he calls another guy over. The new guy is pretty, too, as they all seem to be, but nothing can outshine the sight of Namjoon, serious and laser-focused as he gestures to parts of your jeep and then to the heap of parts they’d removed, circling a couple of things with the highlighter. He speaks quietly to the other guy, who nods and also looks up at your jeep before disappearing down a set of stairs you hadn’t noticed before.

You’re not to be mistaken; you’re a strong, independent young woman, and you have no need to have a man around to tell you how to live or what decisions to make. But seeing Namjoon, looking like that, barking orders at people…well, you’ve always had a thing for authoritative men, and now you can’t help but wonder just how it would feel to be on the receiving end of Namjoon’s no-nonsense attitude. Him telling you to drop to your knees in such a firm voice, leaving no question that he was to be obeyed, and running one of those long fingers along the column of your throat before wrapping his whole hand around it and giving just enough pressure to make your head spin before he slides his-

“Can I help you?” A voice calls, and you just barely catch yourself before actually jumping in shock. Turning to find a third guy - also gorgeous, what is it with this place? - you plaster a smile on your face.

“Yes, hi!” You say quickly, hoping the redness on your face can be attributed to the afternoon sun and not the very lewd thoughts you were just lost in. “This is my jeep, I was just coming by to see how things are going.” It occurs to you halfway through the sentence that it might not be considered normal to check in on a vehicle and perhaps you should have readied a better reason.

The guy - Jungkook, by the name stitched into his plain grey tee - just nods, though, and gives you a quick once-over before turning. “Hey, hyung!” Nearly everyone in the garage turns except for a couple of people, but Jungkook makes instant eye contact with Namjoon. You only barely register the vague wave that Jungkook gives you, and you can’t hear whatever he says next past the rush of blood in your ears, because holy shit. The focused gaze was powerful enough to make your knees weak before, but having it leveled straight on you is another thing entirely. Your stomach is in knots and you honestly think you may just collapse right there and then, just from the sheer power that Namjoon radiates. You’re so focused on him that it’s impossible to miss the way his eyes rake up your form, lingering on every curve and leaving a heat behind that you hadn’t felt in much too long.

You give a shy wave and can see the moment he snaps out of whatever he’s thinking. He takes a breath and tries to speak at the same time, which mostly just results in him nearly swallowing the highlighter cap. You stifle a laugh as he spits it out and caps the marker, stuffing it in his pocket as he makes his way over. There’s a clear path to the lot that you have a sneaking suspicion is there entirely because of his penchant for disaster, and you meet him at the entrance. He’s got a wide smile on his face, yet again showcasing his dimples, and you find yourself returning the smile before you can stop yourself.

“I just came to check on JeepJeep,” You say before you can actually tell him how you think he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. “I’m a little attached, and I wanted to be sure you all didn’t need any other information or anything like that.”

“Ah, well, we’re actually doing alright with her. We stripped out everything that needed to be replaced,” He points to the pile of parts you’re intimately familiar with, “And now it’s just a matter of putting in the new ones and making sure there isn’t anything else going on. We’re gonna go ahead and do an oil change, fill your coolant, and clean all the parts that didn’t need to be stripped, so she should be almost good as new when we get her back together.” Your heart swells at the news, and you beam at him.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Namjoon,” You tell him. He turns slightly pink and rubs the back of his neck, ducking his head. “Seriously, I never expected you to do so much for me. Anyone else would have just written her off and told me to go buy a new one. Are you sure you’re charging enough? It seems like a lot more work than I’m actually paying for.”

Namjoon just waves a hand, looking up at the jeep. “No, it’s the least I can do. Your Jeep really isn’t in terrible condition, just a lot of wear and tear, and it’s so obvious that you love it. What kind of mechanic am I if I turn down something like this?” He goes quiet, and you can feel him looking at you even as you watch several men hand parts back and forth.

You’re both quiet for a long while. You aren’t sure what’s going through his head, but you’re hoping that eventually, he’ll say something else to keep the conversation going.

“Well, I’ve got to get going soon, I’ve got a meeting in about an hour,” You say eventually, resigned to the fact that Namjoon isn’t as interested as you thought he might be.

“Oh, yeah, of course, don’t let me keep you,” He says quickly. Your heart sinks as you give him a smile and wave. You’re halfway to the sidewalk when he calls your name, and you turn to see him jogging after you. He’s got a white-knuckle grip on the book in his hands but his voice is steady.

“If you really want to pay me back, let me take you out to dinner,” he says. “Friday night at seven.”

The confidence in his tone surprises you, but not in a bad way. Your first instinct is to immediately agree, but the memory of that blush from four days ago has you biting your lip. You want to see it again, and you wonder how far you have to push him to bring it out.

“I dunno,” You say teasingly. “Just a dinner? That doesn’t really feel like I’m paying you back much, honestly. Shouldn’t there be more of a…I don’t know, a give and take?”

Something sparks in the mechanic’s eyes. Namjoon steps closer to you and traces the curve of your wrist with one finger. Your skin burns where he touches it, and your breath catches in your throat. “Friday at seven,” He says. His voice is low and lingering and you can feel it deep through your skin and sink into your bones. “Have dinner with me, and then we’ll see just how much give you can take.”

You clench your teeth again the urge to whimper as he slides your arm forward and uses a marker to write something on your arm. He backs up after he’s finished, a cocky smirk coming over his features that makes you want to bring him to his knees and drop to your own in equal measure. He presses a light kiss to your knuckles before he drops your hand entirely.

“Text me your address, I’ll pick you up,” He tells you as he disappears into the garage once more, barking for someone named Jimin to get off his ass and keep cleaning parts. You stand there for another few moments until you’re sure you can walk without tripping over your own feet. When you finally are able to breathe once more, you book it out of the lot and down the street. It takes ten minutes to realize you walked in the complete opposite direction from where you’re supposed to be meeting your friends for a late lunch.

Friday night comes with nervousness that you haven’t felt in a long time. With every one of the last few dates you’ve been on, you’d been the one to pursue things. You asked out the last three dates you’d been on, and the last time you’d gotten laid - months ago, unfortunately, which could explain the very visceral reaction you had to Namjoon - had been because you’d approached the most attractive guy you’d seen at the bar and blatantly asked him if he wanted to go home with you that night. It’s been a while since anyone bothered to chase you, and the fluttering in your chest just reminds you of how much you really do love it.

You’re wearing your favorite date outfit, a cute ruffled top with an A-line skirt that grazed the tops of your knees, and a pair of truly adorable flats that you got for 75% off the last time you went shopping. You’ve put more effort into your hair and face than you had in a while, making sure everything is the best it could possibly be for your date.

A knock on your door at exactly 7 o'clock has you grinning and rushing to grab your clutch. After you make sure you have everything you needed - phone, keys, wallet, condoms, as usual - you open the door. The sight that greets you has you almost wishing you’d offered to cook just so you could keep him locked inside.

You’ve only ever seen Namjoon in his work clothes, and whatever you expected his style to be, it wasn’t this. A gorgeous seafoam button-up tucked into white pants and his hair styled so well you aren’t sure why he wears a hat ever. None of it compares to the beaming grin he’s giving you, though, dimples on full display as he looks you up and down.

“You look amazing,” He says as he takes your hand and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Really, I’m…I can’t believe I get to take you to dinner.”

“Well, you’d best believe it,” You tease. “I don’t get this dolled up for just anyone.” You turn to lock the door behind you, glad for the millionth time that you were lucky enough to find a good townhouse that wasn’t wildly out of your price range. He laces his fingers with yours and guides you to the street where he’s parked.

“There’s a pretty nice place close to the shop that isn’t too fancy or anything, if that works?” He tells you. His brow furrows and he bites at his lip just slightly, and you melt a little. “I wasn’t really sure what you liked, and it’s got a bit of everything, and it isn’t that super stuffy atmosphere, so I thought it would still be casual enough for us to be relaxed and talk, but if you’d like, we can go somewhere else, it really isn’t a big deal so-”

“Namjoon,” You stop him and squeeze his hand a little. “That sounds lovely.” He smiles at the same time you do, relief clear on his face as he relaxes slightly beside you. When you reach his car - a nice, obviously well-kept model you don’t recognize - he opens the door for you to slide in. Within minutes, you’re shooting off into the fading sunlight. There’s soft music playing - some old-school American hip hop you’ve never heard - and Namjoon is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. He looks effortlessly attractive, one hand on the gearshift and the other on the wheel, and it makes heat pool between your thighs. You rub them together just barely, trying your best to soothe the ache; the night has just begun, and at this rate, you’ll be a sopping mess before you even order your food.

Namjoon’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, and as you turn to look at him, you realize he’s not actually speaking to you, but instead quietly rapping along with a new song that’s playing. Your brows shoot up and you grin.

“I didn’t know you could rap,” You say, delighted. Namjoon turns slightly pink and his grip on the wheel tightens a little.

“Ah, yeah, it’s just…a hobby, I guess.” He says. There’s a shyness, a humility, that makes an emotion swell in you that you can’t name. It almost seems like he doesn’t think he’s very good, and you decide then that you’re going to show him he is.

“You’re good,” You tell him, and he shoots you a disbelieving look. “No, really, you are. Do more, c'mon, I wanna hear you.” You reach for the stereo and turn the volume up so that it throbs through your chest, and then turn to him expectantly. He looks away as best he can while driving, scratching at the back of his neck as he starts to quietly rap along. It takes a minute, but he gets louder, more confident, and the excitement in your belly only grows.

“That is so sexy,” You say under your breath. You don’t expect him to respond, but the flush on his cheeks tells you he definitely heard you. He glances at you, curious and searching, and before you can ask why, his hand is settling hesitantly on your thigh.

It’s an innocent gesture, he doesn’t tease you or anything you could expect; he just leaves it there. The heat from his palm is scorching through the material of your skirt, and you catch yourself daydreaming several times about what exactly that hand could be doing to you. The rest of the drive is spent with the two of you talking about what music you listen to and your favorite artists, yet you find it impossible to completely focus on what you tell him. The weight of his hand on your thigh is too distracting.

Get it together, he isn’t even touching your skin, you tell yourself as he finally parks and rushes around to open your door for you. You beam at him in thanks and take his hand when he offers it. Together, you walk into a cute restaurant, already filled with people. You’re worried you won’t be able to get a table, and you start to voice your concern, but Namjoon just holds a single finger up and flags down the host.

“Reservation for two, Kim Namjoon,” He says easily, as if he dined at restaurants that required reservations every night. The host is quick to lead the two of you to a table in the far corner by a window, giving you an excellent view of the street. You can’t help but rake your eyes over Namjoom as he pulls your chair out for you and then takes his own seat. The light is soft and complimenting, making him almost seem to glow with obvious happiness as he perused the menu.

You do the same and find that several dishes look appetizing. You’ve just said as much to Namjoon, who agrees, when you notice the print at the bottom of the menu stating that this is apparently a Michelin-rated restaurant, and with a quick review, you’re shocked to find that there aren’t even prices listed on the menu. Your eyes shoot up to Namjoon, but he’s completely focused on his own menu, lost in the decision as he debates aloud what to get.

“Namjoon,” You say after a second. He looks up, eyes shining in the light, and smiles at you. “Not to be ungrateful, but you know you could’ve taken me somewhere else?”

He frowns, looking around. “If you don’t like it, we can leave,” He says quickly, and is clearly about to stand when you stop him with a hand on his wrist.

“No, it’s not that, this place is lovely, and the food looks delicious, I just…” You trail off, unsure how to verbalize the emotions swirling in your chest. “This is just a lot more than what a lot of guys would do for a first date.”

“Then I pity their dates,” He says without hesitation. He twists his wrist to catch your fingers in his and run his thumb along the back of your hand. “I want to treat you the way you deserve. If you want to leave and go somewhere else, we can. But I asked you out because I want to treat you, and this is how you deserve to be treated.” His expression is soft and earnest and the complete honesty in his words has you floored.

“Okay,” You say softly. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” He says firmly. He keeps his hand on yours as the server comes, and Namjoon proceeds to order each dish you’d mentioned an interest in, silencing your protests with a single hard look that has your legs shaking. The waiter disappears, and you force yourself to relax. Even if whatever this is doesn’t go anywhere, you’re getting excellent conversation and Michelin-rated food. Like you would turn that down.

As the food appears, the two of you settle into a rhythm of conversation. You learn that he’s only at the garage part-time, the rest of his days spent pursuing one Master’s degree in Business and a second in Engineering and that while he originally interviewed at several other auto shops, none would hire him because they were so worried about his knack for destroying things around him. You tell him about how you got your jeep, how it got you through a Bachelor’s degree that you haven’t been able to put to use yet and a job that sucks most days but pays the bills well enough that you can still afford your Netflix account. Namjoon is ridiculously easy to talk to, so much so that by the time you’re digging into a fruit custard pastry dessert, it feels like you’ve known him your entire life. By the time you get back to your apartment and he’s walking you to your door, you can hardly believe you’ve only known him a week.

“So tell me,” You finally say as you stand in front of your door, key in hand. “How does a mechanic that’s studying for two Master’s degrees afford a restaurant like that? And you have to tell me, no backing out. I told you about the Great Flubber Incident of 2014, you owe me. Just don’t tell me you’re secretly a mafia lord or something.”

He laughs, and you memorize the sound. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just lucky, honestly. My parents were fairly well off and set up a trust when I was born so they put back a bunch of money for me my entire childhood, but then when I went to school, they were supportive and weirdly excited, so they’re covering all those expenses as well. The garage pays really well, and I split costs with my roommate at home, so that trust has mostly just been gathering dust. I like to bring it out every so often, just to treat myself and my friends.” He smiles, lacing his fingers with yours once more. “And really beautiful girls with remarkably awful jeeps that are somehow interested in going out with me.”

You can feel your cheeks turning pink even as you grin and step closer to him. “Well, I have to say, the whole ‘humble and clumsy yet gorgeous mechanic with a heart of gold’ thing is really working for me.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm.” You tug gently at his hands and he lets you pull him closer until you can slide your hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. His arms automatically wrap around your waist, hands lingering innocently on your lower back. “I have to admit, though, you gave me a really good first date. I just expected there to be more of a take.” You chance a look up at him and delight in the way his pupils are dilated and slightly hazy.

“I’ll have to make a note of that for next time,” He says. You cock an eyebrow and you don’t miss the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“You seem confident that there’ll be a next time,” You tease. His hands slide to grip your hips, tight and unyielding, and your breath catches in your throat.

“There will be,” He says. His nose is brushing yours, and you aren’t even sure when he got so close, but you know you want him to get even closer. The heat between your thighs is enough to make your legs weak, and it only worsens as he reaches up and glides his hand along your cheek and neck. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“Will you please just kiss me, Joon, before my neighbors can come out and comp-” He does, then, cutting you off in the middle of your sentence and you can’t even remember what you were going to say because his lips are so soft and they’re moving against yours so perfectly that you can feel your actual soul expanding and filling every inch of your being. His hand slides to cup your cheek, tilting you so he can deepen the kiss and slide his tongue along yours, and his grip on your hip tightens so hard that you know you’re going to have bruises the next morning and you relish in the thought.

Your own hands are busy exploring; they slide up to grip Namjoon’s biceps - firm and strong and you want to bite it - before moving to feel along his chest, finally getting to touch the muscles that you know are there. You whimper slightly as your fingers dip along the edges of his pecs, and your legs are threatening to give out completely.

Namjoon kisses you like he won’t get to do so ever again; it’s sweet and exciting and hesitant and dominating all at once, much like Namjoon himself, and your skin feels like it’s going to melt off your bones if he doesn’t run his hands over it, and you don’t ever want this moment to stop because your heart is beating out of your chest and your stomach is doing somersaults but your head is spinning and you also need to unlock your door if you want to get him in your bed, but you can’t feel your keys in your hand anymore and you don’t even know when you dropped them.

Eventually, he pulls away, eyes still closed as he leans his forehead against yours and just breathes. His chest is heaving in time with yours and you can feel his hands trembling slightly where they rest against your cheek, and you want to kiss him until they’re steady again but you also have a sneaking suspicion that it would be counter-productive.

“I really should get going,” He whispers, and he winces like he can feel your heart drop to your feet. “I know, but I have to open the shop in the morning, and I wanna get there early to finish a project.” The grimace on his face is more than enough to tell you that he wants to leave just as much as you want him to - which is to say, not at all, you’re almost to the point where you’d like him to come in and then never leave again. Nevertheless, you know the pain of opening shifts and deadlines, so you force yourself to nod.

“I get it,” You tell him, though neither of you has made any move to let go of the other. “I’ve got work tomorrow anyway,” true, though not until the afternoon, “And my apartment could use a clean,” false, you cleaned it that day so it was perfect if he happened to come in, “And…and your job is important.”

He sighs, grip tightening once more before he takes a single step back. He bends down to grab your dropped keys and slides them into your still-somewhat shaky hand.

“Text me?” He says, and his voice is hushed and tentative. You wonder if he expects you to say no.

“Like you can ever stop me now,” You reply with a grin, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He grins and this time you don’t hesitate to poke at the dimples that appear.

“I’ll see ya,” He says with a grin as he presses one last kiss to your hand before turning and heading back to his car. There’s a lightness in his steps, and even from here you can see his grin.

“See ya,” You call into the night before heading into your apartment.

That one date quickly turns into two which turns into three which turns into so many you can’t count. It seems like every time you both have time off that overlaps, you’re out. Movies, dinner, an afternoon at a museum exhibit, even a picnic by the river. It’s wonderful and your heart flutters with joy every time you think about it, and even Taehyung had commented about how happy you seemed recently. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the worst thing that happened was that they had to wait for a part to come in to finish fixing JeepJeep, and that couldn’t be helped. Namjoon was even paying out of pocket to get it expedited, despite your protests that he didn’t have to and that you’d be happy to pay for it yourself.

Still, as adamant that Namjoon was that he treat you at every turn, you had your own plans. You’d paid for several meals before he had the chance, bought him more than one gift that made his eyes crinkle in delight, and frequently brought him dinner on nights where he worked late.

This was one such night. Bag of takeout in hand as you walk the short distance from the bus stop to the garage, you can see the light inside even from here. The music can be heard even as you step into the lot, a thudding bass that drowns out all other noise around it - not that there’s anything nearby open at this time of night. You can just barely see Namjoon’s legs sticking out from under the back of some Kia, and you hear him muttering along to the song playing. He’s the last one here, as you’ve discovered is the usual schedule in the garage; it gave him a multitude of time to work and study, and he seemed to prefer it when no one was around. The garage was warm inside, a combination of heating and the industrial lights that kept everything blazing, but tonight you were grateful for it; the cool breeze of the afternoon was just starting to turn that bit too chilly, and the sundress you’d put on earlier was just shy of being warm.

“Hey,” You call, “I brought you some dinner. You wanna eat in the office?” He rolls out from under the Kia, and as usual, you’re floored by just how sexy he looks in his work uniform. Jumpsuit rolled down to his hips to combat the heat in the garage, white tee sticking to his chest and highlighting the muscles that make you drool, the cap on and turned backwards so the oil and gunk doesn’t get in his hair. He gives you a dimpled smile as he stands and wipes his hands on a nearby rag.

“Nah, we can eat out here, give me a second to wash my hands.” He disappears into an employees-only area, and you can hear the faint sound of water running as you pull over a couple of stools and get the food set up on one of the workbenches. Namjoon reappears, drying his hands on a clean rag that he tucks into the waistband of his uniform. “I actually have a surprise for you,” He says as he sits.

“Oh really?” Your mouth is stuffed full of chicken, and he laughs at the sight. You make a face at him before swallowing. “What surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you ahead of time, would it?” He makes a face in return and digs into his own food. You huff a little; you’ve never been very good at being patient, especially when you know you’re getting a present. You were notorious for sneaking into Christmas presents early, to the point where your parents started keeping them at your grandparents’ house to keep you from breaking into them.

The two of you eat in relative silence, only broken by the occasional anecdote of your day. When the food is finished, you both clean up the trash and Namjoon stretches as he leans back against the workbench. The position highlights his body and you can’t help yourself wondering what it looks like without the layers. As many dates as you’ve been on, there’s always been some reason or another why neither of you could spend the night; one of you worked too late, the other worked too early the next day, his roommate was home, you were dogsitting for Taehyung. It was frustrating and infuriating and you’d been about five seconds from ripping his clothes off the last time you’d seen him.

“So,” You drawl, giving him an expectant look. “What’s my surprise?”

“I really thought you’d last longer than that. Is the pleasure of my company not enough for you?”

“Joon, please, I’m dying, I waited for you to finish eating and everything because I’m such a good girlfriend.” You pout at him, but you don’t miss the stifled grin when you call yourself his girlfriend. He heaves a dramatic sigh and pushes off the workbench to take your hand.

“Alright, close your eyes,” He says. You obey immediately, following carefully as he leads you through the garage. You hear the bay door closing as you pass, and you assume the automatic timer kicked in to close them all for the night. You’re distracted from your thought as a soft clunk echoes in the garage and Namjoon lets out a soft curse. Still, he’s careful to keep you from any hazards as he guides you, eventually stopping you at what you figure is the other end of the garage.

“Okay,” He says, apprehension ringing through his voice. “You can open them.” You do, and you nearly sob at what you see.

JeepJeep, in all its glory, polished and waxed and shined, and looking nearly new again. You step forward and run your hand along the hood slowly. You whip around to face him with hope in your eyes.

“Go ahead, start her up.” You rush into the driver’s seat and find the key on the dash, ready and waiting. You slide them into the ignition but find yourself hesitating before you start it. You’re so hopeful, so ready for her to work the way she did when you first got her, that you aren’t sure what you’ll do if she doesn’t. Apprehension settles in your chest, clawing its way up your throat. You glance to Namjoon again and at his encouraging grin, you turn the key.

Your jeep absolutely roars to life, immediately, and she sounds beautiful. Better than the day your parents handed over her key, better than you’ve ever heard her, and you could weep, you’re so happy.

Instead, you turn her off, exit the vehicle, and stride the few steps to the hood where Namjoon is standing to pull him into a heated kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair immediately, pulling him in as close as you can. Words aren’t enough for this, can’t express the sheer and immense gratitude that you feel, the absolute elation at having your jeep back. He returns the kiss, surprised but content as his hands settle on the curve of your hips.

You deepen the kiss, surging upwards and pressing your body flush against Namjoon’s until you’re almost stumbling forward. He steadies you and, without breaking the kiss, walks you back until you’re resting against the hood of your jeep. You can feel the beginnings of his arousal against your hip, and you want more. You want to show him how grateful you are. You part from his lips to ghost your lips down his neck until you get to his throat, at which point you bite. It’s gentler than you usually would be, but it still makes him hiss, and you lap at the mark left to lessen the pain.

When Namjoon’s hands start sliding down, dangerously close to your ass, you bite again, this time suckling at the skin. You don’t stop until he hisses your name and tangles a hand in your hair, loose and wild, and when you finally do pull back, you give him the most innocent smile.

“We’re in the middle of the shop, are you seriously trying to-”

“Do you want me to stop?” You interrupt, cocking a brow at him. His eyes are blown wide and there’s a quickly-forming hickey on his neck that you take great pride in, and he looks like he’s struggling with himself.

“This isn’t how I pictured this,” He finally admits, and you smile.

“It’s not how I pictured it, either,” You agree. He looks slightly relieved that you had other plans as well, but at this point, you’re too far gone to care about those plans. Your nice, comfortable bed is ideal, yes, but it is also so far away, and you really can’t wait that long.

You maintain the eye contact with him as you slide down to your knees, hands massaging up and down his thighs. “Do you want me to stop?” You ask again, softer, as your hands hesitate just shy of the hardness you can feel through his uniform. Your breath ghosts along it, you’re that close to it, but you refrain from touching it at all until he gives you a sharp look.

“Fuck, no, I don’t,” He finally says, and you grin. You can hardly believe you’re about to do this, honestly, even as Namjoon unbuttons the next few clasps to his jumpsuit to reveal all he’s wearing under it is his boxers. You don’t wait for him to take them off, instead sliding the band down just enough for his dick to spring free.

You’re not ashamed at how your mouth waters at the sight.

You’ve never thought of dicks as being anything attractive, in and of themselves. For everyone else you’d been with, they were merely a tool to be used, attached to an attractive man and attractive in their skill, but not in their looks.

God, you were so wrong.

Namjoon’s dick is glorious. Seriously beautiful. It’s long and thick and curves just barely, and you clench instinctively at the thought of it inside you. You’d be worried at how you’re going to fit it if you couldn’t already feel the wetness dripping down your thigh. You were so turned on it could probably slide right in, and you clench again at the thought before reminding yourself that you were on a mission.

The first brush of your hand against his dick has Namjoon huffing, impatient and ready to feel your mouth on him. It’s the first you’ve seen of his authoritative side all night, and you decide that you want more of it. You glide your fingers along the length of him, ghosting over the tip just enough for him to know you were there at all before repeating the motion, again and again. He thrusts forward just a small bit each time, chasing the feeling of your hand, and you can’t stop the smirk on your face as you look up to find him glaring down at you.

“I thought you were going to do something down there,” He growls. You do your best not to shiver at the sound of it.

“I am doing something,” You reply cheekily as you slide your thumb along his slit. He hisses again and shudders. “Isn’t there supposed to be a give and take?”

“If you don’t put that mouth of yours to work, you’re going to see exactly what take means,” He tells you, and you grow hotter at the thought. It must show on your face because he raises a brow at you. “Oh, is that what you want, baby? You want me to take it?” You moan a little at the thought, and though you’re never going to admit it, he knows, just by that small tell.

“Then I’ll take it.” He tightens the grip he has in your hair. “Open your mouth for me, baby.” You comply, and he slides in completely. You can feel him hitting the back of your throat and your nose is buried in the small patch of dark hair at the base of his dick and you don’t even care. Your eyes roll back a little as he slides himself back out before thrusting in once more, and you moan around his cock.

The sound makes him shiver, and he repeats the action, tip hitting your throat once more, and you moan again. He hisses your name and it sounds like music to your ears. You slack your jaw, allowing him more room, and run your tongue along the underside as he slides in and out, groaning softly at the feeling.

“Fuck, you like this baby?” He asks you, falling forward slightly to brace himself against the hood of your jeep. “You like it when I use your mouth like this? Like it when you’re just a little cockslut for me?” You whimper and do your best to nod, though it’s difficult when he’s shoved his dick so far back in your throat that you’re swallowing around it. The taste of his pre-cum hits your tongue as he slides back out, and you’ve honestly never tasted anything so good in your life.

“You’re so good for me like this, baby,” He says. “You’re so pretty like this, on your knees for me. So fucking gorgeous, god, I could cum just like this.” You whine at that; if he’s going to cum inside of you, you sure as hell don’t want it to be down your throat.

He stops the next time he slides out, a soft pop echoing through the room as he does. There’s a trail of spit connecting your lips and the tip of his cock and it’s so erotic you could cum just from that. He’s dripping pre-cum and you give small kitten licks to lap it up before it can fall to the ground. His free hand cradles your chin and he pulls your face up to look him in the eye.

“Get up,” He commands. You obey, scrambling to your feet and glad to get off the cool concrete floor of the garage. He pushes you back until you hit the hood of the jeep, hands running along your legs and up the skirt of your dress. He grips the backs of your thighs and lifts, with more strength than you realized he had, until you’re sitting on the hood, legs splayed around him. He darts forward and sucks a mark into the skin of your collarbone, and you whimper at the feeling of his lips on you.

His hands slide up your thighs, teasing and light, and they drag the skirt of your dress up with them. By the time you can feel the air against your clothed core, he’s pulled back, and when you open your eyes, you find him staring straight at it.

“Shit, babe,” He hisses, “Lace? Fuck, I almost don’t wanna take them off.”

“Then don’t,” You reply without hesitation. He looks up at you, and a crooked smile slowly comes over his face.

“God, you really are fucking perfect, aren’t you?” He mutters. He leans in again and kisses you hard. It’s unforgiving and sloppy and hot and when added to the heat of his hands against your inner thighs as he slowly strokes your skin, it has you grinding against the air for some form of release.

“Please, Joon,” You gasp, hands grasping desperately at his shirt. “Please, please, I need you.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg,” He whispers, laughter clear in his voice as one finger moves to slide against your slit. Even through the fabric, the friction makes you buck, and you can’t stop the moan as he flicks at your clit. “You’re so wet, baby. Absolutely soaked. Tell me, are you always like this when you’re around me?”

You whimper as he moves his fingers to the side to slide his fingers along your slit once more, collecting your wetness as he does. One starts to slowly rub circles just above your clit, close enough that it has you moaning, but so far away from where you need them to be. Your body is shuddering, and you’re dimly aware of your hips rolling to match his circles.

“I asked you a question.” His voice is harsh in your ear as his palm slaps against your thigh. The pain lingers, just enough to make you clench around nothing, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” You gasp. “Yes, I’m always this wet around you.” He smiles and slides a finger inside of you. It’s easy, and you contract around him,

“Good girl,” He tells you, thrusting his finger in and out. You whimper again, and he presses a kiss against your neck. Your hips are moving of their own accord, rutting desperately into his hand. “Now tell me, have you imagined this? Did you think about me fucking you in this garage, making you cum with just my fingers?”

You nod quickly. “Yes, yes, I’ve thought about it.” You moan as he slides another finger inside and begins you fucking with them, curling them just enough that they brush against the one spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. “Fuck, Joon, please, I need you.” You’re fucking yourself against his hand, hips grinding hard against his hand. The meat of his palm presses deliciously against your clit, and you feel like sobbing, you’re so close.

His fingers slide out of you, leaving you contracting around nothing, and the emptiness echoes throughout your chest. “Ssh, baby,” Namjoon says softly. You feel a finger against your lips and instinctually open your mouth. He slides his fingers inside and you suck, licking your own slick off of them. You look at him as you do it, and relish in the fact that he looks just as wrecked as you feel. “Fuck, I need to be in you. Do you have a condom?”

“No, it’s fine,” You say quickly. “I’ve got an IUD, we’re both clean, please just fuck me, Joon, I need it.” His grip on your thigh tightens at your words, and he nods.

“Yeah, okay,” He mutters. He pushes lightly against your shoulder and you let him. He lays you back on the hood, gripping your thighs and pulling your hips down to line himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.”

“I know, it’s all you, Joon,” You tell him, back arching as you feel the tip of his dick against your entrance. “It’s all because of you, you get me like this, just wanna fuck you all day.”

With a groan, he slams into you, and you gasp. Your back arches up off the hood at the same time your legs wrap around his hips to keep him inside you. The moan tears itself from your throat, echoing through the building, and you’re glad for the music still booming through the garage. Namjoon moves, one hand bracing himself against the jeep as he lets himself adjust to the feeling of your raw heat against him and the other keeping your hips steady in an iron grip.

“Fuck, Namjoon, move, please,” You whine, hips already grinding against him in an effort to entice him into following your wishes. He nods and starts shallow thrusts. The stretch burns in a way that makes you want more, and you can feel every inch of him inside of you as he begins to fuck you harder.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” He moans, and if that isn’t the best sound you’ve ever heard, you aren’t sure what is. “God, I fucking…fucking love the feel of your pussy around me, it’s so good, and you’re fucking beautiful like this, taking my cock so well, babe.” You whimper and roll your hips against his, hands scrambling for any kind of purchase against the hood of the jeep and finding none.

“Harder, Joon, fuck,” You pant, moving to grip your own thighs in a desperate attempt to release some of the energy building up in your gut. He complies, fucking you harder against the jeep. You think you can hear it moving, but you can’t be sure, because all of your focus is currently on the pressure against your pelvis, the way the rolling heat between your legs is expanding, and you can’t even be bothered to control the wanton moans coming out of your mouth. Namjoon is just as loud, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he pumps in and out of you. One of his hands moves and he shifts, angling so that he hits your sweet spot with every thrust while his other hands begins to rub hard circles on your clit in time with his fucking.

“Fuck, yes, come on, baby, cum on my dick, wanna see you cum for me, wanna feel you as I fill you up,” Namjoon hisses, slapping at your thigh once more. That does the trick, the rubber band in your belly snapping as you reach your high; your back comes off the hood completely and you shoot forward, hands gripping Namjoon’s shirt so hard you think it might rip, hips rocking against his as you ride out your high.

It only takes a few shallow thrusts while you’re spasming around him for Namjoon to fall over that edge as well, and you can feel the hot liquid settling inside of you. There’s more of it than you thought there would be, enough that even as he slides out, you can’t miss the way it drips out of you.

You’re both panting as Namjoon slides your panties back into place, a smirk on his face as he does. You look at each other, and you let yourself fall back onto your elbows.

“I’ll get the lights and the music if you get the door,” He says. You’re up in a flash, heading to the door controls by the bay your jeep is parked at as Namjoon hurtles through the garage to turn off the music and lights. It takes less than five minutes, and only a couple of minor incidents in which you hear something fall to the garage floor, and you’re speeding down the road to your apartment.

If you had to stop in the parking lot of your building and ride him in the backseat, then, well…no one needed to know but the two of you.