#or in the way of something i need access to?

[ja3yun]

On the Roof || S.JY

stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!

The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day. 

Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.

Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist. 

But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win. 

The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.

“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”

Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either. 

You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.

The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.

His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick. 

His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.

Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.

At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward. 

It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.

He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.

A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.

“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.

For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”

A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop. 

“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.

“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again. 

“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.” 

“Invitation declined.”

He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him. 

Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.

Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.

The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.

So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.

Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.

The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air. 

It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space. 

He takes up too much space.

Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept. 

“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.

You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.

The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.

“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”

“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.

He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”

The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking. 

Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.

So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.

Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.

As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.

So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.

But there is one thing that you are dying to know.

“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.

But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”

“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.

Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.

His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.

“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion

Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around. 

“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.

“As in?”

“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.

Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”

“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”

“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.

He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.

Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.

He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.

But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.

“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.

“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.

Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”

He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown. 

But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.

Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”

There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.

“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.

Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.

Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”

Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.

But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.

“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.” 

As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.

Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.

His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”

“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”

“I-”

“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.

“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”

Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”

And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.

As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.

_____

The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday. 

You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.

It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.

Fuck.

Jaeyun.

The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.

Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger. 

"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"

As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.

Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.

“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.

Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”

“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”

“But-”

“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.

You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”

If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.

Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.

As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.

Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy. 

“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him. 

Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?” 

A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom. 

You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?” 

With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.

As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.

A messy home is a home loved.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.

Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.

Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.

Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.

Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice. 

You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.

“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”

“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”

As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock. 

You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?

Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through. 

He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family. 

The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders. 

If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.

At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.

Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard. 

His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”

“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”

“Really, no, it’s okay-”

This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.

It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.

So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.

With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this. 

You need him…

Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago. 

Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.” 

Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers. 

Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”

“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some -  that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier -  you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA. 

Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment. 

Either one, you let it slide.

So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”

“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably. 

You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right. 

Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine. 

“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it. 

A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”

“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”

“Pretty good together you mean?” 

Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”

He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.

Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues. 

“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.

“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought. 

Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose. 

Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more. 

It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”

You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.

The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.

“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shut up, I’m just excited.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.

Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.

He’s different.

Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts. 

His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.

And devoured it will be.

Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.

“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”

“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.

“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most. 

The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.

“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep. 

Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.

“Well, I better get to it then right?”

And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow. 

The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it. 

He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities. 

“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…” 

His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.  

He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.

He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.

“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”

And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen -  and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning. 

His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate. 

“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway. 

Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”

A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it. 

But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite. 

Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another. 

“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white. 

But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?

“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.

Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”

“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”

For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance. 

Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”

Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.

The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.

“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”

Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy. 

You never want him to leave.

“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.

Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock. 

While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”

“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace. 

“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.  

“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”

You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you. 

Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.

“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”

Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible. 

This is heaven.

“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.” 

And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”

You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.

“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes. 

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”

Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige. 

So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull. 

“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”

Baby

His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”

“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”

And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn. 

“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.

After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.

It feels so right.

And you’re not the only one who believes so.

Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity. 

Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”

“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.

But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes. 

It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.

And he needs to find out.

[burningembers91]

On Display - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to Freak of Nature

Synopsis: When you break your routine, the Salesman is forced to break his.

A/N: I'm still not sure how dark I want this to be. I mean, he's obviously certifiably insane, but I also want him to retain some likeability.

Warnings: 18+ only, The Salesman is a stalker, the MC has been crying.

Something was off. He sensed it the moment he sat down and spied the empty chair that was usually occupied by your perfect frame. You were never late, and today it was 4:08pm and you were nowhere to be seen. The muscles in his jaw tightened, his molars grinding together as his temples twitched. He didn’t like it when things didn’t go as expected. It was one of the reasons he liked you so much; you were predictable. He knew exactly where you’d be at all times, but today you’d thrown him off his schedule.

You always finished work at 3:30pm sharp. You took 15 minutes to have a catch up with your colleagues, 5 minutes to freshen up in the staff bathroom and then 10 minutes to walk from the school to the coffee house. He’d seen you through the staffroom window, had seen you smile as you spoke to your colleagues. Cursing himself, he adjusted his position on the park bench, smoothing down his grey blazer as he tried to abate his rising anger. He’d had such high hopes for you. You’d done everything exactly the way he'd wanted until today. Of course, you had no idea what it was that he wanted because you had no idea he existed, but that was the beauty of it. He could test you out from afar before deciding whether to approach you. You were so nearly perfect, but today you’d let him down.

He took another look at his watch: 4:11pm. He was a patient man, but even he had his limits. He knew you didn’t have any other plans today. The handy little tracker he’d implanted in your phone one day at the coffee house when you’d been in the bathroom gave him full access to your phone. Your diary was clear, as it always was on a weekday. So where were you? He checked again, staring at your blank calendar as seething rage consumed him. Why, why did you have to break your routine?

His hands began to shake, and he closed his eyes, taking deeps breaths as he counted to ten. Therapy hadn’t been a complete waste of time; he’d learned a few coping mechanisms to help when he felt himself losing control. There had to be an explanation for why you weren’t here. Something must have changed.

Reaching 10, he opened his eyes. And there you were. Your eyes were red, your makeup smudged with tears. You’d been crying. He’d never cried before, could never understand why people did. Nothing in life was worth crying over as far as he was concerned. But something had obviously upset you. Was it your boss? He knew from your work emails that he’d been giving you a hard time. Maybe he needed to pay the man a little visit…

He watched through the window as you dumped your belongings in your usual seat, haphazardly wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands, which only smudged your mascara more. You looked beautiful like this; so vulnerable and soft. He wondered what you sounded like when you cried, whether your sobs were soft and gentle, or whether your body wracked with the tears you shed. He hoped you weren’t an ugly crier; it would be such a shame if you were. He needed to get to the bottom of this, needed to find out who had done this to you.

Picking up his briefcase, he marched into the coffee house. He needed to be careful about how he approached you; the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off. Not after he’d worked so hard to learn everything about you. You were the next in line to order, and he slotted himself behind you with a quiet ease. This was the first time he’d been this close to you, so close he could touch you. The familiar scent of your perfume wrapped him in a comforting blanket. Of course, he’d tracked down the scent and bought himself a bottle, spraying it whenever he couldn’t be near you. You were shorter than him, as he’d expected, but perfect in absolutely every way. He chastised himself for the anger he’d felt for you earlier. Someone else had made you late, had made you cry, and whoever it was would pay.

“One latte please,” you said to the barista, your voice hoarse with tears. He clenched his fist at the sound of your voice, the usual melodic tones now scratchy and gruff. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t right at all. “Please.” He stepped forward without thinking, his default smile plastered to his face. “Let me pay.” You looked up at him, your red rimmed eyes filled with confusion. He watched you take in his appearance, watched the tip of your tongue dart out to wet your lips. He fought to control himself as he watched you, wondering how it would feel to for him to do it, to run his tongue over your lips before biting down until you moaned at him to stop.

He coughed, ridding the overly erotic image from his mind. He’d pictured you in a thousand positions, in a thousand different scenarios, but somehow the simple act of you licking your lips had put him into overdrive. He was struggling to concentrate, losing control of himself. He didn’t like to lose control.

“Thank you,” you finally said, your perfect eyes meeting his. “That’s very kind.” He smiled at you, brushing past you to pay for your coffee, adding his own order. The smell of your perfume was overwhelming, memories of long nights spent inhaling the scent he’d sprayed on his pillows as he pleasured himself to thoughts of you.

What was happening to him? He could feel his stomach dropping, feel a wave of nausea pass through him. Is this what panic felt like? “Would you like to join me?” you asked, taking your coffee from the barista. “Yes,” he managed to say, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead as he followed you and that damned perfume trail to the seat by the window. He was in over his head. He needed to get away.

“I’ve seen you before,” you said to him, as you sat down. “You like to sit on the bench.” You pointed to his usual vantage point, eyeing him curiously. “Yes,” he smiled, “I like to sit and watch the world go by.” He hadn’t realised you’d noticed him; you were always so engrossed in your work. There was that stomach dropping feeling again, but this time it was accompanied by the most delicious feeling, like his stomach was fizzing. His shirt felt too tight, his tie a little too snug around his neck. What the hell was happening to him? Was he losing his edge?

“You like to people watch?” you smiled, “so do I. It’s why I sit here. I find people fascinating.” He was trying to concentrate on what you were saying, but your mascara-streaked cheeks were such a distraction. He wanted to wipe them clean, to remove the inky black stains that spoiled your perfect skin. He wanted to lick away the tear streaks from your face, to tie you down and fuck you until the tears you cried were for him.

You watched him, maintained eye contact as you waited for him to speak. He was so lost in his thoughts that he couldn’t remember what you’d said. “You’ve been crying,” he observed instead. “Why?” You laughed nervously, wiping at your makeup-stained face. “Oh, just ex-boyfriends,” you laughed, “nothing serious.”

Nothing serious?! In all the meticulous research he’d done, there had been no mention of an ex-boyfriend. How serious had it been? Was he still in the picture? Evidently, he was, if he was still able to make you cry. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he managed to say, barely clinging to his polite persona. He wanted to tear this man apart, whoever he was. He wanted to make him feel agonising pain in every inch of his body. You were his, and his alone. He managed to maintain his composure for the rest of your chat, his mind drifting between your perfect features, thoughts of fucking you until you begged him to stop, and thoughts of ripping apart the man who had made you cry. The time was approaching 6:00pm. You’d be heading home soon, to cook some dinner and watch some Netflix, or read a book. He’d have to be content to watch you from the restaurant across the road, your figure outlined in your cream curtain against the soft glow of your lamps.

“You know,” you turned to him as you pulled your coat on, “you don’t have to watch me from the window. If you wanted to talk to me, you could just come and sit down.” You smiled slyly, and left the coffee house without a further word. Never in his life had he been left speechless. He thought he knew you, thought he had you all figured out. He’d spent months learning all there was to know about you. He knew the names of your parents, knew how much money you had in your bank account, knew the name of your first-grade teacher, but you’d blindsided him in a single sentence. You knew he’d been watching you at the coffee house. You knew and you chose to stay in that same spot and let him stare at you every day. You knew what you were doing when you sat in front of the window at 4:00pm each afternoon. You were enticing him. You wanted him to play with you. You put yourself on display for him.

As he followed you to your apartment, a good few meters apart so you didn’t catch on, he couldn’t help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, after all this time he’d finally met his match.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're struggling through your pregnancy, trying to stay calm as your worries about Bradley grow as quickly as the baby. Bradley wants to put his best foot forward at work, making himself available for office hours, but maybe he's made himself too accessible.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink, jealous

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley's new office was coming along nicely. Everything was standard issue Navy grade, but he started adding some touches here and there to make it look more personal. The file cabinet was covered in ultrasound photos, one column of Rosie and one of her younger sibling. 

He glanced at the wedding photo on his desk before adjusting it and wincing. You were still mad this morning that he overdid it at the Hard Deck last night, but he wished you would just let it go. It's not like he drove home drunk or anything. Nat and the guys were just excited to learn he was going to have another kid. The drinks just kept coming.

There was a knock on the door, and then Maverick poked his head inside. "You have a minute?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied, waving him inside. "It's not like I can tell you no. You're my commanding officer, Mav."

The older man chuckled, setting some folders on the desk. "I need you to keep all of the forms updated for each of the pilots. It's best if you work on it every day and then update the hard copies. You should have time to do this between visits during your office hours."

Today was the first time Bradley was holding office hours, and honestly he felt a bit like a college professor: the aviators were kind of his students, and he was responsible for making sure they were prepared to fly.

"Not sure how busy my office hours will be," Bradley muttered. He should probably send a text to remind you he'd be home a little later than usual tonight. While he didn't want to make a habit of missing dinner with his girls, this was a far cry better than being deployed. 

"You might be surprised," Maverick replied with a smile as he backed toward the door. "You've got a lot to show the others, Lieutenant Commander."

Then he was gone, and Bradley could feel the warmth rising in his cheeks. He just wanted to prove himself, but the first time someone had him up against the wall, scrambling for an answer, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He'd only started to advertise his extra hours during today's lecture, so it would probably be another week or so until someone came to him for any sort of guidance on a Monday evening. But he would try to be ready.

He was just opening one of the folders from Maverick when there was another knock on his door. This time when he looked up, he was met with a flight suit complete with a Golden Warriors patch identical to the one he wore. That would have been enough to let him know it was Indigo, but then he met her eyes as he stood up behind his desk.

"Lieutenant Jeffries," he greeted with a smile as she strode inside. "How can I help you?"

She studied his face with a knowing look for a few seconds before breaking out into a smile of her own. "Sir, I can think of so many ways you could help me. It's not even funny."

Bradley blinked, brow furrowed as he examined her. "Well, why don't you start with an easy one? It's been a long day. And something tells me you might be regretting the late start you got at the Hard Deck last night."

Her laughter filled the room. "I could never regret finding the officer hangout before the rest of my peers from Texas. I need to keep the edge I have over Rex and Spice." When she started to close the door, Bradley frowned.

"Keep it open," he said casually, reaching out to catch it before it shut. He didn't want anyone thinking he was playing favorites, and the little pout on Indigo's lips convinced him she wanted to be his favorite aviator. But she didn't argue. She simply sat down on the edge of the couch and looked up at him.

"The easiest way you can help me is by telling me where I can improve," she said, fingers toying with the zipper at her neck. "I want to be the best you've ever seen."

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

You couldn't tell if Cat was actually annoyed with you or if she was just teasing, but you were too exhausted from a restless night to care.

"I can't believe Bradley told Jake you're pregnant before you told me yourself! I just saw you last night!"

Her gaze dipped down to your belly as you stood before her in the lab. You knew you were showing. There was no denying it now. You had a bunch of appointments coming up with Dr. Morris, and you were just going to keep getting bigger until you had to wear the maternity tent again. You knew you were already huge and that you'd probably never be your normal size ever again. And the last thing you wanted was Cat Coleman of all people scrutinizing your appearance when she always looked pristine.

Everything was made worse by Bradley's interactions with Indigo. She was everywhere on base, but now she had taken over your bar, too. You saw her this morning but managed to duck out of the way before those piercing eyes landed on you. She knew what you looked like now, and Cat's gaze lingering on your belly was doing nothing to give you a boost of confidence.

"Please make sure you're eating and drinking enough," she told you. "We don't want another repeat of Annapolis where you could barely give a presentation. Or a repeat of the day you fell at work."

You gritted your teeth. "This pregnancy doesn't even feel like my last one. Okay? I'm eating just fine. Too well, actually."

You turned on your heel, boot squeaking on the floor and headed out to collect Rose from daycare. Everything was just a reminder of your size right now. Visions of candy bars danced in your head as you told yourself you'd go home and eat a sensible dinner while Bradley held his office hours. But you already knew... you just knew Indigo would squeeze her way in there with her pretty eyes and her perky tits. And your husband seemed to be oblivious to her. At least you'd tried to convince yourself he wasn't actively looking. But you knew she found him attractive. You could smell it on her a mile away.

Tears filled your eyes as you approached the daycare facility. If he was looking at her, you couldn't blame him. Indigo was beautiful, her body stunning even in her flight suit. Meanwhile you looked like an exhausted, lumpy, khaki-covered potato with acne and zero energy.

"Let's go home," you whispered to Rose, trying to smile at the daycare staff as you pushed her out in her stroller.

You were absolutely fine. You were totally fine. Or at least you would be. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

But all week long, you heard the same collection of call signs spilling from Bradley's lips, and Indigo's was always the first one. She was the fastest, most cunning, smartest, most decisive pilot he'd ever flown with. Any time you asked him a question about work, she was the answer. And he was late coming home almost every day.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Sorry, I had to stay in the infirmary with Spice after she strained her shoulder," he said, rushing inside on Friday night as you made dinner. "She couldn't even raise her arm to get her helmet off."

He kissed your cheek, letting his hand rest on your belly for a beat before he ended up on the floor next to Rose's play mat where she was trying her hardest to crawl to Tramp. As soon as Bradley showed up, she changed her mind and tried to get to him instead.

You pressed your lips together as you turned off the stove burner. "Did anyone else stay with you and Spice?"

"Yeah, Indigo hung out," he replied easily, brushing his fingers along Rose's hair with a smile. You swallowed hard, watching him on his hands and knees in his khaki uniform. He looked so good. Like ridiculously good. Broad shoulders and big biceps and a handsome smile.

"Why am I not surprised?" you muttered, turning away from him.

"I think they're friends," he said. "It's kind of amusing getting to experience the love and hate dynamics amongst the group. The women tend to stick together on the ground, but anything goes in the air."

Your stomach ached with hunger pangs, and the only thing you wanted to eat was ice cream. When you realized you'd eaten a frozen burrito barely an hour ago, you desperately wanted to go to bed hungry, but you started to feel guilty about the baby.

"My parents listed their house today," you announced, trying to change the subject before you started to cry.

"Did you hear that, Nugget?" Bradley scooped Rose up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen where you were plating two meals. "Your grandparents are moving here to spend more time with you. And next summer, we'll take you and your little brother or sister back to Virginia to see where ol' Goose and Carole used to live, okay?"

He peppered her face with kisses until she was giggling wildly, and every negative thought started to get fuzzy around the edges. When his brown eyes met yours, you nodded toward the table, and his arm slipped around your waist.

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

Bradley came home from his office hours on Monday to find you wearing only his old UVA shirt. The soft cotton was hugging your bump and showing off your legs, and he was ready to get on his knees and beg for you.

After he put Rose in her crib for the night, he met you in bed where you were wearing your glasses, your face freshly scrubbed. He was plainly getting hard in his gym shorts the more he looked at you. It was so obvious. When you stood on your knees and coaxed him closer with your finger, he met you there.

"I hope you know how good you have it, Roo," you whispered against his lips.

He knew. He knew all about it. He let his hand slide down over your belly, keeping you in place when you tried to scoot away. Then his fingers slowly yanked up the hem of his shirt until he was touching your pussy. 

"Of course I know it, Baby Girl." He circled your clit with his middle finger before slipping it inside you. "I've got my Rosie. And my hot, pregnant wife with her perfect pussy." When you whimpered, he kissed your nose. "I've got it all."

You dragged the shirt up over your belly and chest, tossing it aside. For a beat, Bradley went completely dizzy at the sight of your tits. Then you made everything better by placing your hands on your breasts, working them until beads of milk appeared. Your head was tipped back, pussy squeezing his middle finger, and Bradley almost lost his mind.

His kisses were rough. He knew it. But you were whining Roo as he got undressed, and then you were guiding his lips to your tits. He had to have it dirty. His cock was so fucking hard, he needed to make you scream.

"Oh, fuck," he growled as his lips grazed your nipple, lapping up your milk until he thought he was going to pass out. Every inch of your body was so sweet and supple, but he wanted you babbling and begging.

Bradley meticulously cleaned you up until you were clinging onto him, then he pushed you onto your back. Without hesitation, he started fucking you. When you needed a hand over your mouth to keep from waking Rose, he was all too happy to help. When you spread your legs wider, he watched his cock glide inside your welcoming body over and over again until he felt his orgasm in his balls.

"Shit. I'm gonna cum," he groaned, waiting until you nodded against his palm to lose himself. Hips thrusting, filling you with shallow strokes, he fucked you until your pussy was dripping. He watched the mess he made dribble down your ass before catching it with his fingertips. "I swear I don't think I can keep my cock out of you long enough for you to not be pregnant ever again."

You snorted before reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips. "After this one, I'm going right back on the pill. No more slip ups," you whispered. Bradley watched as your tongue darted out, licking his sticky cum and swallowing every drop.

"No more slip ups," he echoed, smiling at your belly. He'd never consider this a mistake. Not in a million years. A surprise? Absolutely. But not a mistake.

Bradley's phone lit up where it had been discarded on the floor when you slipped into the bathroom. He had a text from an unknown number with a Virginia area code. At first, he thought it might be his cousin Brenda letting him know she had a new phone number, but when he opened the message, his brow creased in confusion at first.

Lieutenant Commander, thanks for spending so much time with me today in your office today.

Only three people had been in his office with him earlier. One was Maverick. One was Forrest who he had to reprimand. The third was Indigo. Bradley hadn't been giving out this number, but it was readily available if anyone wanted to look through the registry in the lobby of the building where his small office was housed.

He scratched the rough stubble along his jaw, contemplating if he should respond after nine in the evening. He saved her number under her call sign and tossed his phone on the bed when you walked back in with a smile on your face. He should wait until the morning to respond if at all.

You yawned when he passed you. "I'm ready for bed, Roo."

"Give me a minute to brush my teeth, and I'm right behind you."

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

By the end of the week, your parents had two offers on the house where you were raised. They were officially downsizing to a cute bungalow a few streets over in Coronado, and you were excited. Or you wanted to be.

But every time you let your heart fill with happiness over your parents or the baby, you remembered that Indigo was texting your husband. You saw it for yourself. Right after he fucked you so good, you could barely walk, you glanced down at his phone on your bed. He had her number saved in his phone, and you wanted to cry.

You could ask him for permission to look at his phone. You could see what his reaction was. That would give you a good gauge of what exactly was going on between them. But Bradley had never once asked you to hand your phone over to him. He'd ever insinuated that there would be a reason he didn't trust you. 

Unsure what else to do, you sat in your office during your lunch break and cried. The tears were hot and miserable on your cheeks, and a headache instantly started brewing behind your eyes. It took you almost ten minutes to get yourself under control, and by then you didn't even feel like going to the cafeteria for food.

When someone knocked, you looked up at your door. Maybe it was Bradley. Maybe you could get his phone from him somehow and check it yourself. "Come in," you called, voice soft from all the tears you'd shed. Instead of your husband, Jake strolled inside. "Did you get lost? Cat's probably in the lab."

"Aww, come on, Angel," he drawled, dropping down into your extra chair. "I came all the way up here to see you."

"Oh." You were a little surprised. Everyone was so busy as the last quarter of the year was beginning, you felt like you hadn't seen much of him.

"Why do you look so sad?" he asked, already leaning forward to stand again. "Want me to grab you and the baby something to eat and bring it up here?"

"No," you told him quickly. "I'm fine. Just a little stressed." You tried to smile, but you felt like you could cry again. "Are you having a slow day?"

"Nah." He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Just had to get away from your annoying husband and his band of misfits clogging up the comms with their exercises."

"Band of misfits?" you asked with a soft laugh.

"Bunch of children," he replied with an eye roll. "Look like they just graduated from high school." His eyes went wide. "Oh shit, that probably means I look old now."

"You don't look too bad for someone older than me," you promised with a smirk. "Hey, do you know anything about any of those new pilots?"

"I know they like to hog the line in the cafeteria. One of them took the last slice of pizza yesterday, and I had to wait for a new pie to finish baking. Food should be based on seniority. I outrank all of them."

You were laughing at his smile now. "Hey, maybe I should get something to eat. And it might be nice to get out of my office for a few minutes."

"I'll walk you down." Jake stood and helped you to your feet. "Can't hang out too long though. Mav has a fire under his ass about getting Phoenix, Bob and I in the air this afternoon."

You headed to the cafeteria with Jake, getting a chance to hear his side of the wedding plans after listening to Cat for weeks. They wanted something small and simple, but he assured you there would be room for the Bradshaws on the guest list. Once you had a tray piled high with a salad, breadsticks and once slice of pizza, you took a seat while Jake headed back out to the tarmac to get back to work.

Your lunch tasted incredible. The cheese from the pizza was practically melting in your mouth. When the cafeteria started clearing out, there were only a few tables occupied, and you started stacking the plates on your tray. You could have a calm, reasonable conversation with your husband. He'd let you look at his phone, and everything would be fine.

"Okay, but what's up with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

Your eyes darted up from your tray to find two officers sitting a short distance away. The one facing you had a patch on her flight suit that said SPICE, and you recognized her call sign from conversations with Bradley.

"He's hot, but he's wearing a wedding band," she added.

You swore your heart stopped at her words. Then you realized that the woman with her back to you was Indigo. Her jet black hair was wound up in a tight bun that accentuated her long neck even from behind, and her laughter set your teeth on edge.

"I already told you," she said, and you had to stop breathing to make sure you heard every word. "His wife is a civvy. I saw her at the bar the only night he showed up. They have one kid, and apparently she's pregnant again. At least that's what I heard Lieutenant Trace saying."

"What does his wife look like?" Spice asked, casually taking a sip of her drink as if your world wasn't crumbling to pieces.

"It was hard to tell in the dark, but her face seemed okay. Nice-ish body, but come on..." Indigo gestured to herself. "The man's only human, and his wife is definitely older than me. That much is easy to tell. And she'll be huge again soon."

You tried to get up from your seat quickly, fighting with yourself to get out of the room, but it was too late. Both of them were standing now, still chatting as Indigo turned your way. As soon as her eyes landed on your face, you saw them widen. That pretty blue color looked terrifying as a smile of recognition spread across her lips.

Indigo absolutely knew who you were now. Her eyes dipped down to the hyphenated name pinned against your chest, and now she knew you weren't a random civilian. She knew you were an officer who worked on North Island. She knew way too much as she took in every inch of your body. And she looked really pleased by what she saw.

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

He has his sweet moments, but Roo doesn't see the bigger picture here. Next chapter will reveal if Rose is going to have a brother or a sister. Any guesses? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[shomatoriashi]

01/04/25; 10:50pm

sylus x fem.reader

notes: i love sylus so much; i need him.

obligatory tags: @voidsylus | @milkandstarlight

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

thinking about how soft sylus is when he first wakes up in the morning with you, his arms wrapped possessively around your waist while allowing the tip of his nose to freely explore the strands of your hair. he breathes in your scent like his life depended on it.

on the cusp of waking up, you lean against the front of his chest with a purr, feeling the tip of his erection brushing against your backside. letting out a sleepy giggle, you teasingly look back at him with mischief in your gaze, “someone’s happy to see me.”

you bask in sylus’s rich chuckle, allowing him to pull your body achingly closer to his as he slides the palm of his hand down the silken material of your nightgown, hands sneaking down into the waistband of your panties to palm at your center. your breathing hitches in response to such an intimate touch, spreading your legs wider to give him better access to your folds.

“i’m always happy to see you. now… will you let this little crow indulge in you, kitten?” his voice was dripping with the decadence of chocolate, successfully tearing down your defenses when you give him a gentle nod, waiting with bated breath when he pulls down your panties before slotting his cock between your thighs.

your breathing becomes labored, feeling the friction the velvety feel of his cock provided for you each time he strokes himself against your slick folds. your breathy moans were heard throughout the room, with your arousal steadily staining the shaft of his cock. he feels the way your walls clench with need, earning a dark chuckle from him as he leans in to whisper in your ear, “do you like that, my little dove?”

words failed you, as you could only manage to give him a whimper in response. feeling desperate for him, you gently tighten your thighs around his cock, earning a broken grunt from the man settled behind you. feeling the way he twitches so sweetly against your pussy lips, you slowly beg for him, “please sy, don’t tease me anymore.”

cue another rich chuckle to be heard from the powerful man, shivering when he presses a lingering kiss against the side of your neck. “as you wish, my love.”

he keeps your body still, forcing your body to remain on your side when he moves away to kneel before you on the bed. lifting up your legs, sylus slots the tip of his cock against your folds, teasing you by tracing the tip of it across your outer lips before sliding inside of you. the moment you felt every pulsating inch of him fill you to the brim, you began to sob with pleasure against the pillows.

he starts a steady pace, languidly pushing his cock in and out of your heat while at the same time teasing your hardened clit by giving it soft pinches after every thrust. the constant onslaught of his cock hitting at the same spot deep inside of you made it harder for you to hold back the urge to release-

and you realized that this morning quickie was more than just for his pleasure-

but for yours as well.

throughout it all, sylus played your body with an expertise that takes your very breath away. every tilt of his hips and brush against your clit was for the sole purpose of you reaching your sweet release-

you never stood a chance against him, as what felt like mere minutes later, the tightness in your abdomen suddenly snaps, making you release yourself onto his cock with broken moans of his name, spilling your warmth juices as the evidence of your release travels down the length of his cock.

sylus wasn’t faring any better as well the moment he stills his hips, purposely pumping the rest of his seed into you as you felt his cock twitch from within you. leaning forward, he captures your lips in a fervent kiss, swallowing the rest of your moans with a grunt. you kept milking his cock for all he was worth, mind going hazy with pleasure as you take everything sylus had to offer.

once you were both satisfied, sylus pulls away from the kiss first, reverent hands touching at your damp face as he brushes the back of his knuckle against your skin. “mmm, i believe you spoiled me this morning, since i’d much rather do this-“ he surges his hips forward as you moaned, feeling the sensation of his cock steadily hardening once more, “than eat breakfast. ah, in fact, how about you be my meals from now on?” he teases, earning a soft groan from you.

“sylus, please- i need to take a shower after this.”

a devilish grin was settled on sylus’s face when he holds your body closer to his, not breaking his connection with you when he gets out of bed before heading eagerly into the bathroom. “well why didn’t you say so, little dove? after all, we can still have some fun.”

and the moment sylus closes the bathroom door, you could hear your echoing laughters quickly morph into moans from beneath the shower spray.

end notes: the sylus brainrots truly never stop, and i’ve never been so proud to be a sylus girlie before 😭🙌🏻

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[hitomisuzuya]

I was wide awake when I saw the the request open lmao😭

A smut fic of Fatui harbinger Scara who loves to spoil his girl pls???

harbinger!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. cunnilingus. degradation.

birthday smut for scara💜

scaramouche could tell there is something on your mind. you'd been walking next to him for awhile now, occasionally giving him quick, but longing side glances. it was cute how obvious you are being despite trying to be discreet.

"hm? something on your mind?" he asked, lifting the brim of his hat off his face some seeing you glance at him again.

you freeze, your breath hitched in your throat realizing you'd been caught. "well i.." you trailed off, the obvious fit of shyness rippling through you evident on your face, "no, it's just," you continued, fidgeting a little, "it's nothing."

"huh?" scaramouche sighed, and reached out to flick your forehead. "i can see something rattling around in that pretty head of yours. out with it."

"are we almost there?" you asked, finally having the nerve to look at him.

he raised an eyebrow. "was that really what you wanted to ask? why? are you tired?" somehow he didn't think that was it. there was something you really want to ask him.

you glance at scaramouche's mouth. he has a beautiful mouth that's capable of so..so much. you had a lot of time to look around and observe things when you are walking with him, being that he was the type who didn't feel the need to have a conversation just because it was quiet.

the more you found yourself glancing at his mouth as you walked, the more it made your thoughts race thinking about all the things he could do with his tongue. things that made the warmth of arousal prickle in your core, and your panties increasingly wet as you walked.

your heart starts to pound as you open your mouth to speak. putting your hands behind your back, you rub your thighs together a little and look away shyly. "scara, when we get back to our lodgings for the night will you eat me out? please."

scaramouche grit his teeth, slightly frustrated at how infuriatingly cute you look right now. if there is one thing that he couldn't resist indulging in, it is spoiling you.

how could possibly refuse his precious girl, especially when you are practically begging him to tongue fuck you in such a delicate, shy, and needy way.

one smirk down at you is all it took to confirm his answer. "it just so happens that we are closer to the inn than you think we are," he replied, pulling the brim of his hat over his face a little to hide the blush on his cheeks.

his ego also happened to stretch a bit.

before you knew it, you are lying naked on the bed, your legs spread while his mouth devours your creamy cunt. he has two fingers holding your folds apart, giving his tongue easier access to bully your throbbing clit.

"are you feeling good, my girl?" he asked, looking up at you as he licked long, slow stripes up and down your puffy pussy. he used his whole mouth to taste you, sucking and licking in ways the only made you moan you louder and more consistent with each point he focused on, your hands clutching the blankets in a feeble attempt to ground yourself.

"yes! ah god, yes, i am!" you cry out, grinding your pussy on his mouth. your pussy clenched around the tip of his tongue as it flicked teasingly at your hole.

"that's my good girl. fuck yourself on my tongue like the slut you are," he scooped your clit into his mouth to suck on, chuckling as drool rolled from his mouth down your pussy.

to him, you truly are a feast fit for a king. he is getting to spoil you and eat you out. your whiny moans of bliss an extra bonus for him. and for his cock.

the wet and soft slurps are more than enough evidence he is enjoying himself, drunk on how sweet you taste. he swirled his tongue around your clit, moaning as he held your thighs apart. he couldn't get enough of how very clearly dumb he was fucking you with his tongue.

"scara! scara!" you mange to whimper, releasing one of your hands from clutching the blankets to tug on his hair. pressing his mouth down onto your cunt, you rock your hips up, desperately seeking more friction from the wet muscle teasing at your hole.

"keep whimpering just like that," scaramouche pushed his tongue inside of you. your back arched off the bed as he swirled it between your walls, purposefully stimulating every sensitive part of your pussy.

he shivers in anticipation feeling the way you start to twitch. the closer you got to creaming on his tongue, the sweeter you tasted. his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head tasting you clench so fucking tight on his tongue.

"scara..i..i'm gonna!" you began, however the latching of his lips around your throbbing clit again cut you off, a gasp of pleasure replacing any words for a moment. "your tongue feels so good!" you card your fingers through his hair, grinding shamelessly on his mouth.

scaramouche purred a chuckle on your pussy. "so fucked dumb by my tongue you can't even speak clearly. what a slut," he prodded his tongue back inside you for the pure pleasure of feeling you clench from his degradation.

you writhe as pleasure burned through your senses, pushing you right off the edge. your fingernails dug into his scalp as the intensity of your orgasm assaulted your body. the harder he made you cum, the more you shook while he lapped up your release soaking on his tongue.

spoiling you was about his pleasure to.

[justanotherbrooke]

I got in a fight with my fucking University about this actually because they removed all functionality of our id cards in favor of us using the app on our phone.

I couldnt access the building i work after it was locked or use my card to buy food on campus with the campus meal plan i was forced to buy

And the only way to check how much you have left on said meal plan is to check The App

They went out of their way to remove the functionality of physical ID cards over using the NFC scanner in your phone

And emailing them they wont reactivate your card

I went in person to get my card fixed and they went "Oh we cant do that but pull out your phone we will help you with The App" and then i handed them my shitty little flip phone that cant get apps on it(it can but like its weird and not android so not supported but 99.9% of apps) and they went "head into the back they can help you" and then I had to wait like 15 minutes for them to reactivate my card

Still cant check how much i have on my campus card because you need The App and if you even dare sign into The App it instantly disables your card its fucking bullshit and i hate it. I do however really like how one of the professors in the lab i work in went "No we dont want a card lock that you unlock with your phone we want a key lab only" greatest fucking decision out there

Also not even going into how there are random points across the campus infrastructure that require you to use 2FA but dont have the phone call version available and are only using the app

Like connecting to the university VPN to connect to the engineering departments servers

Oh or going to any event on campus I have to be like "can I just give you my email" because i dont have the QR code with my event pass

Anyways something something average computer scientist hating reliance on technology because it is bullshit and give me alternatives incase my phone breaks or I am too poor to afford a phone or something like that

Oh also if you want to have an out for like 60% of the stupid App bullshit either A. just lie and say you broke your phone or B. carry around (or switch) to like a shitty walmart flip phone and just shake it at people who shove QR codes at you or say you need an app

OH AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED HOW 90% OF THE STUPID NEEDING AN APP FOR SHIT THAT DOESNT NEED AN APP IS JUST DATA COLLECTION BECAUSE OH FUCKING BOY!!!!!!!!!!

anyway sorry for random rambling on this post lol it just is actually one of the major things that pisses me off so much

theres bikes around the city you can rent but you have to use an app that needs your drivers license. theres buses that drive right to your destination, but if you dont have change you need the app. you can wash your car here if you sign into the app. you can go to the bathroom here you just have to unlock it with the app that needs your location on. you can order at this restaurant if you scan the code and download the app. im losing my freaking mind

[7seas-of-ryy]

Crestfallen - Part 4

Author’s Note: I'm hoping to make the next part longer, hoping I'll have more time tonight to write. Thank you all for taking the time to read my work! Your likes, comments, reblogs, and follows truly mean the world to me!

Overall Summary: Although you were born in the Day Court, you've been living in the Night Court for a century. You're close with the inner circle but what will happen when a new healer is brought into the picture?

Part 4 Summary: After your body and soul have gone through so much, how likely is it you'll survive?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of injuries

"The combination of these plants can lead to some serious complications." Madja informed Rhys and Az.

All of the color drained from the spymaster's face.

"I believe the venom in the cut was from her mission. I would have found it sooner if I had done her check up." Madja muttered, ashamed.

"This is not your fault. It is mine for not seeing Clara for who she actually is sooner." Az responded.

"Now is not the time to take blame. Y/N needs us. What can we do now?" Rhys added.

Madja looked over you, taking a second to think.

"Well, the powder probably just sped up the venom which caused it to attack her powers quickly. It is like an infection, I will treat her with some medicine for that. But I believe there is a power inside of her that she is not aware of." Madja explained, "it might be the reason she is still alive right now."

Azriel walked closer to you, kneeling next to the bed. He laid his right hand over yours and used his left to push some hair off of your face.

"What about the complications you mentioned earlier?" Rhys asked.

"I have never seen the combination of Spitfire Aconite, Vamire, and Aldirin used where it didn't immediately kill the fae once it entered their system. Those three plants combined are deadly, perhaps the mystery inside of her is what saved her. I am not sure yet, I will treat her infection for now and we will figure out the rest as we go." Madja spoke definitively.

She began rummaging through her things to find the medicines. She pulled out some liquids, a salve, and bandages. Dropping some of the mixes in your mouth, she could tell your fever was already dropping.

"We need to flip her onto her stomach so I can access her cut." The healer told them.

"I'll do it." Az jumped up.

He gently rolled you over and went to take the salve from Madja who gave him a look.

"Please." Azriel begged, needing to help you in any way he could.

She nodded at him and gave him the necessary equipment. She pulled Rhys with her out of the room, leaving you in the shadowsinger's hands.

He coated your cut with the cream and bandaged it snugly. Pulling up a chair next to the bed, he sat and watched over you.

Rhys and Madja made their way down to the rest of the group.

"I will go figure out some treatments we can try. In the meantime, I think you need to deal with Clara." Madja spoke up to the High Lord.

He gave her a nod, a steely look already in his eyes thinking about what she did to you. Entering the living area, he sent out a surge of his power so everyone felt it. He walked straight to Clara but she refused to make eye contact with the male.

"I gave you a chance here at the Night Court, to be a part of something bigger and this is how you repay me? You have caused damage to my friend that I do not know can be undone." He growled out.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Mor whispered, afraid of his answer.

"We don't know if we will be able to help Y/N. Clara here used a deadly combination of herbs on her but I'm sure she didn't expect Y/N to be so strong. Isn't that right?" He demanded.

"Wh...What? No I...I just...it wasn't supposed to kill her. It was j...just supposed to heighten her symptoms so I could then fix her. I swear. I didn't think it would do any true h...harm." She stuttered out, realizing the extent of her actions.

"Hmm so you're not a killer? Just stupid." Rhys spit out, "Nesta. Cassian. I trust you two can take care of her while I try to find a fix for Y/N?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Cassian spoke, his voice rumbling.

Nesta didn't verbally respond, just held the icy gaze she had on Clara.

"What? You can't do that!!" The female began to plead, terrified to be punished at the hands of those two.

Before anyone could respond, Nesta and Cassian winnowed away with her. Mor looked to Rhys, they shared a sorrowful look. Feeling like they betrayed you, they knew they needed to make it right. But first, they would have to help you survive.

-----

All of the venom, plants, herbs, antidots, and serums that were inside you weren't enough to knock you out fully.

You were awake through it all, fighting with everything you had inside your mind. You had felt Rhys enter your mind, tried to control your light for him but it was so strong.

Once Azriel's shadows entered protecting Rhys, you knew you had to fight harder. But you could feel everything. You could feel Madja unweaving the venom from your very soul. It was not only the worst pain physically but it made you feel so vulnerable and weak as well.

You felt another energy inside of you, something you never felt before. You tried to explore it, but the venom was controlling it and you didn't have enough strength anymore.

With Rhys and Az in your mind and Madja deep in your soul, you had never felt so bare before.

Once they finished and the venom was completely removed, you needed to rest. Knowing you couldn't fight it anymore, you succumbed to sleep.

------

After a while, you woke up. Well, your mind was awake but your body wasn't. Your power seemed to be back in your control, at least it wasn't attacking you from the inside out anymore.

You felt like you could hear something calling out deep inside of you. You couldn't ignore it, it was as if you were hypnotized, following the sound.

There was nothing physically there, at least you couldn't see anything but you could certainly feel it. It was power, antsy to get out. You reached your hand toward it and it was as if it noticed you there finally. It latched onto you and energy shot through you.

It was a feeling you had never experienced before, consuming every cell in your body. You could feel it working its way through you, waking up your physical form.

Suddenly you sat straight up in bed, gasping, no longer trapped in your mind.

"You're awake!" Azriel spoke, his eyes wide in shock.

Taglist

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@kissesfromnovalie @plants-w0rld @halo-mystic @bookishbishhh

[star2fishmeg]

need some luke x inexperienced reader PLEASE just too good

Luke's hand lay under your t-shirt, flat against your spine, his other cradling your nape with your pyjama shorts clad thighs straddling his lap and curls tugged by your fingers as lips move and lap in languid motions. Elongated moans muting any noise from beyond your bedroom door, volume increasing when his hand slides from your neck and over her breast, cupping and giving it a soft squeeze before you part, hot breaths panting onto the surface of your swollen lips and eyes flickering to each other. He can't begin to explain the heat that surges through him every time you kiss him, his head just floats straight to cloud nine and ears blocked everything but the sounds you make when you grind down on him experimentally.

His hands fall to the hem of your t-shirt, his old Michigan one that's you've been stealing since you met as freshman, fingers wrapping around the fabric.

Luke's voice drops low, raspy and still catching his breath slightly, "Can I?"

"Only if you will too..." you mumble, retracting your arms away from his hair.

He lets the fabric go and pulls his own shirt over his head first before removing yours. You think about looking away but it's Luke, his eyes are too soft and he's gently running his hands along your back so, when you go to meet his gaze, you're surprised to see him locked on your breasts. He licks his lips before pressing sweet kisses to the flesh, over the top and into the valley, hands finding their way to cup over the lacy bra and thumbs rubbing over your nipples. He can't help it, he's obsessed with them, they're the best pillows he's ever had and nuzzling his face in them is a past time, but without the barrier of a t-shirt, his hairs stand on end and his cock twitches.

"Look at you, beautiful." He groans deeply when his nose presses in the valley, pushing your breasts together to bury his face entirely. You feel his lips, his mouth trailing sloppy and wet kisses wherever he can, teeth grazing and buds pebbling under the padding.

"Lu," your hands find his hair again, nails massaging into his scalp as his teeth nip the flesh, "can...can we try something?"

He raises his head and kisses the corner of your lips, "What is it, baby? You sure?"

"I...fuck, this is hard...I want you, uh, to suck my tits. Please. Apparently, it's good and, uh, you like my tits a lot so, like..." you notice the way his eyes sparkle, elated that you've finally granted him full access to his favourite place to sleep.

"Yeah...oh yeah, I can do that, shit, baby." His lips quirk into a crooked smile, excitement fizzling in his chest and he plants both hands on your lower back, pulling you closer on his lap and sliding his palms up your spine. Freedom fills your back, the band of your bra unclasping and you can't bear watch it hit the floor, not that you get the chance before Luke's peppering your cheeks with kisses. "You sure you’re, okay? Just say so and I'll stop if you aren't diggin' it, okay?"

"Okay-oh!" you moan abruptly, it only taking him a split second to hear your consent before his warm mouth latches to your nipple, hand pushing against your spine and guiding you to arch into him.

Your eyes flutter close, jaw faltering open with shockwaves of euphoria as his tongue swirls around your bud, the tip flicking between phases swirling and suckling. Your hips buck into him when he groans, the vibration's a sweet, pleasurable paradise through your nerves and your fingers grip his hair harsher, keeping him into your chest.

When he pulls off with a wet 'pop', you whimper as the cold air brushes your nipple, now soaked with saliva and swollen but before the words leave your throat, he's taking your other breast into his mouth, hungrily. Sometimes you forget how strong he really is, but you're thankful he reminds you by pushing you backwards, your back hitting the mattress and situating his biceps either side of you, lips sucking firmly and tongue moving in circles around your nipple.

"Luke," you whine out with a smile, "oh, Lu."

His large palm encases your free breast, groping and taking the bud between his pointer and middle finger, rolling it to draw those high-pitched whimpers you love to torment him with so much. The sensations new, so new but tremendously stimulating with bursts of craving in your stomach, those tingles that feel like flips. You want him to touch you like this all the time, relish how he loves every part of you.

Pulling away again, Luke rasps, looking at you with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks, "Fucking love your tits, baby. Did I do okay?"

"I didn't say stop, do it again." You push his head back to your breast, his chuckle intoxicating but not as addicting as his tongue flicking over your nipple again, lips suctioning over the wet surface of your skin and your head tips back into the sheets, mewling out his name while his hand and mouth work in tandem.

[kedreeva]

They will 100% chew anything that has an edge they can chew, and would likely go right through linoleum (which depending on what the specific kind is made of may not be particularly safe for them to do) if it's where they can access it. Lots of big at-home breeders use cement mixing bins and storage totes, but you have to find brands that have NO protrusions inside because they'll chew out if they can get their teeth on something. You'd slow them down covering the inside with acrylic, and stop them if you could use glass or metal- including if you just cover the interior with hardware cloth. Bonus, they will enjoy climbing the walls and hanging upside down from the ceiling if you use hardware cloth. You can't use screen- they can chew through screen. 1/8 or 1/4” hardware cloth- the 1/2" is big enough for them to escape out of. 3/8" is the biggest gap you can leave with wire. You're less likely to see chewing on a bottom than a side, though, so you can chance it with linoleum and probably get away with it for a while if it was sufficiently covered with bedding such that they couldn't clear a space. You could also look into modifying a cement mixing bin or other tote to slide in, which would be easily replaced if they do chew. Critter nation cages have metal drawers that can be added to the bottom to contain bedding, so kinda like that. You might be able to clear coat the entire bottom in something like epoxy resin, but idk if that would suit the lightweight goal. At worst, you could always just. Do 2-3 layers of linoleum. If they start chewing through one layer, they just run into more, and you'd likely notice it before they got out.

I will offer caution about deep litter- it can't dry effectively, and can mold quickly from urine as well as will hold the scent of waste longer (because waste smells worse wet). I would minimize the amount of deep litter. I will also caution the use of litterless shelving- they will pee on it and it will quickly cake up and smell the worst. Ideally you want an inch or less of bedding for most high-use areas, and then to offer deeper digging areas that are removable or easily cleaned without having to take everything out to do it. So whatever you decide, bear that in mind.

Anything wooden you shouldn't paint in areas they have access to chewing. Sealing or staining, there are natural oils you can use! I haven't had cause to do it, myself, but I know you can do it. You can also use natural stuff like soaking wood in fruit or vegetable juices for colors (not like juice from a container, but like, use the real fruits), which is almost like painting. It might make them more prone to chewing those parts tho (some people do this to "chews" for the mice). But they're gonna chew it either way.

As for the greens, you would want to give in moderation. Honestly you could probably just take a few strands from the other trays and not have to worry about a whole tray for them. They only eat a few grams of food per day, so a little bit goes a long way when it comes to treats (and skewing nutrition). If you're growing wheat grass, you can let it grow and dry it, which they will find really exciting for nesting material, and they will still eat some dry.

They have no human interaction needs! A well bred pet type mouse will have been bred for temperament, which means they should be able to be easily handled every time regardless of other handling amount, so even if you only ever handle them for cage cleaning, they should be chill about it. Their mental health does not factor in human interaction as a necessity. What they DO need, absolutely with no exception, is mouse companionship with other mice. Breeders may choose to temporarily solo-house breeding males or expecting mothers, but they do so with the knowledge that it will not and cannot be permanent and maintain well-being. I used to work in animal husbandry for research and labs had to justify solo housing any mouse because it was considered inhumane without sufficient justification. Human interaction CANNOT make up the difference due to how mouse sleep cycles and socialization works. So! You can happily never have them out and they'll be fine, but you should always keep multiple mice.

The designs look awesome! I'm looking forward to seeing what you do with it! I hope you have too much fun with it all!

If you did build the redwall and get mice, since they dont live for long, how would it work once they all passed? Would you get more or just clean the redwall set up and have it as decoration? If you did get more would you have to sanitize the redwall set up? How would you clean around it when you did have the mice (honest questions, you got a bug in my brain about trying to make a set-up for mice and keeping them, but ive never kept mice before so im wondering your plan)

Honestly, I'm not sure. I've had mice before; they are lovely little pets, but that was when I had the Terror of the Underbrush. She was a fantastic hunter but also had zero interest in my pet rodents, so it was a less risky proposition--I don't trust my current cats to not murder a loose mouse out of pure confusion. I do think I could build a cat-proof enclosure, though.

Anyways--I could sell the whole thing when the mice passed; I could get new mice. Yes, you can just clean the enclosure and introduce new ones. Part of the point of making Redwall out of ceramic is that it can be very easily cleaned and sterilized--it's exactly the same stuff as dishes are made of. I could literally throw the whole thing in the dishwasher, or dunk it in boiling water. Easy cleaning!

The main issue is that I don't want a decorative Redwall, I want a REAL Redwall. With real little guys. So while I could make felt or ceramic mice, that's not the point! I want it to be used.

So I'm probably going to find someone to pass this along to when it's done. Ideally, someone that posts their mouses, so I can see it in use. But there's also a real possibility that the brain worms will Get Me and I will make a whole little Redwall world before I slow down.

[ziminy]

Nightshift pt.3

Having them as roommates was a problem

Tags: smut, mdni, ageless and blank blogs will be blocked, explicit language, f!reader, college au, Gojo and Geto as housemates , jealousy (again), filming, fingering, oral (f and m giving and receiving), public s[e]x (in the car) , panty stealing, crying, hand job, double penetration, threesome, hair pulling, edging, overall just me going feral again,

Author's note: I'll be honest with everybody in here, I'm embarrassed by what I'm writing. My creativity surprises me sometimes.

Author's note(again, sorry): I wanted to post it sooner but I'm busy with school and shit. My classes are in the morning and I'm this close on dropping everything for some sleep 🤏 (I wrote this a few months ago and all I can say is that life is so much better after dropping out.)

Pt1 Pt2 masterlist roommatesmasterlist

Life is strange. It's amusing the way it works. Fascinating, you could even say. Goofy, perhaps. But a thing was clearly, as long as you're housemates with Gojo and Geto you'll never live a peaceful day ever again.

Truly strange.

And you can't even figure it out when it all started, because now it's just normal. Your worries flew out the window a long time ago. Did you think that your relationship was weird? Yes. But it's not that unusual if you don't think about it.

You were anxious because they were anxious. Their weird energy got to you, that's why you ran away. Or maybe your thoughts got to them and now it was this game where everyone goes back and forth for nothing. Fighting over things that aren't even that deep to begin with. Conversation will always be the key. And if you know how to use it, then you'd have access to so many doors in life.

That's some philosophical talk, and we don't do stuff like that in this house. It was an idiot trying to show how dumb the other is, even if they share the same brain cells. Everyone were dumbasses in here. No one knew how to communicate or use the so called keys. Everyone were on their own trying to do what they know the best.

It's complicated. What is right and what is wrong? What made you so irresistible that made those hungry wolves to want to eat you alive? What made you so gorgeous that they couldn't take their eyes away? What made them want to compete with each other when they used to share women like air, changing the person next to them like socks. Here's a lady, and now another.

No one wanted to share anymore. All they wanted to do was to prove that one can have you more than the other. A competition with no start and finish line until you decide to make it stop. Which one you liked more? Which one made you stay up at night or make your pussy wet by just thinking of him?

Which one did popped up in your head first? Did you touched yourself think of someone? The thoughts could go on and on. It was truly amusing the way they didn't try to talk to you. Only make fantasies in their heads while observing you. So small, so cute. So ready to take that cock right now.

One had to do the first move on proving something that it doesn't need to be proved. Someone will cry, someone will laugh. One will end up victorious while the other will be sad. It can be both of them who's crying. It can be a whole another mf that gets you in the end.

Someone need to do something. Quick. Fast. Just hurry up.

And the one who did the first move was Gojo. Just the way he asked you to move in with him, he was also the one that made the decision on what's going to happen next.

It was simple. It wasn't even a move to get you. It was more to piss Geto off. It was to annoy his friend with the fact that he fucks you when he's out. It was to show him that you're having so much fun when he's not home. It was an audio of your sweet moans opened at the wrong time.

Geto didn't had the time to check his phone when he was out. Now that he got home, he walked in the kitchen, ready to eat something with you and his other housemate. He sat down on his chair, took a few bites and then press play on what his friend sent him. Moans. Everyone stopped and turned their heads on the dark haired man.

"Suguru, you dirty bastard." Satoru laughed. You looked in shook. You didn't even recognize the voice of who ever was that on his phone.

"Satoru, why would you send that?"

"Satoru???" you looked at the white haired man and all he did was to laugh.

It was just the start. Next time Geto received a video.

It started with Gojo placing his phone on the kitchen counter, facing you who was washing the dishes. He left his phone there and walked behind you, kissing you softly as his hands went down on you. You only sighed. You stopped whatever you were doing for him. His hands already in your pants, fingers rubbing your clit slowly. Your soft sounds, the way you let him do what he wanted to do. Suguru's eyes were fixed on the screen. He wanted to turn up the volume so bad, to hear you. He wanted to listen to your voice. And then the video stopped with Satoru fucking you with his fingers, his eyes moving on the camera, smirking.

Fucking hell.

How unfortunate for him to be away from home. Why does he have to be out here instead of being in that damn house.

So he waited. He waited until he got home. He waited a few days for his dear friend to go away, to just be out this house so he could get his hands on you.

Ohoho. And when he did.. He placed his phone on the couch, to face your lower half, getting in the picture your thighs and him who was in between your legs, eating you out.

He was doing it with so much passion only to make you loud. To make you clearly shake for the camera to capture it. To make your hands go in his hair so hesitantly, not knowing if you should pull at it or not, if you could even touch him. His arms were flexed, looking so big compared to your body. He was doing it intentionally, he even did a few pushed ups before he even pressed the record button.

He didn't wait for the sun to shine at the right angle for nothing. Everything was calculated, from the way the camera captures your body, to the best place in the house.

And it sure did backfired at Gojo, who was staring impatiently at the clock. When can he go home? When can he see you himself? That fucker. He thinks he can play his game? The game Satoru started? To think that he's the one jealous now.

And here was the plan for the other video the white haired man did. Or this is how it went.

Skin against skin. Usually he would have been scared of crushing you with his weight, but today? His body on top of yours, chest against chest. Your bare skin touching him with nothing in the way, your legs wrapped around his waist. Whenever you or him tried to get a little away, someone dragged the other back. Your nails into his back, holding into him like your life depended on it. Everything felt so intimate. The way you looked at him. Those big eyes that Geto calls ugly. That dumb little smile. You looked in love. In love? No. It can't be. Can you even love to begin with?

Is this what made you happy? Playing this gentleman of a man? Someone who will hold you tight in moments like this? I mean, who doesn't. But did you really liked it that much?So much that you'd look at that guy he calls his friend like you've been in love with him all your life? You're not even doing anything, just kissing, you're bodies being pressed against each other.

He had to try it himself.

Just like before. He waited for the right moment, then acted his plan up. Because if he'll get interrupted or wake up with an unwanted guest he'll go nuts.

He wasn't horny. He wasn't even in the mood to do something today, all he wanted to see was if you were like in that stupid video.

He sat at the edge in your bed, watching you getting your clothes off, never taking his eyes of you, always making you stay in front of him where he can see you better. His hands carefully placed on you, slowly dragging you into his arms.

He kissed your jaw, your neck, his hands all over your body. Just wanting to feel your skin, the warmth you gave him. How you looked so different compared to him. You were glowing, you were like a flower carefully placed in a field full of sunlight. And he was the moon who wanted to take all that happiness. The way you smiled under that damn sun, he wanted to take that away.

"Suguru.." you said his name so lovely. He was really going to bite you.

"Kiss me." he ordered. He wanted you to do a wrong move so he could punish you for looking so warmly. You let him in your arms so easily. It made him mad.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. It was so quick that he bearly even noticed.

"You call that a kiss?" he wrapped his arms around you and let himself fall down in bed, dragging you along with him. You yelped. You closed your eyes by how suddenly that was.

Skin against skin, huh? To hold you so close that you basically become a part of him.

He just got an idea.

He wrapped his hands around you while you were on top of him, trying your best to not fall into him. All he did was to tease you. His mouth on your chest, kissing and biting your nipples. One of his hands on your ass while the other was rubbing your back. Making you move your hips without even think on him. What he needed was you all needy for him.

And when he finally got you all desperate, he opened his camera, acting all nonchalant. Acting like he does this on a daily basis, like he have you all over him like this.

"You want me that bad?" he was a good actor, or at least that's what he thought.

"Stop playing with me. I need it right now." his heart skipped a beat, and so did Satoru's when he saw the video. The way you looked down at Suguru. The way you moved his pants to let his cock free, almost jumping on it instantly. It was his laughter that made you stop for a moment. You were frustrated, and you made sure to let him know about your feeling by looking angrily at him. He played with you for so long, you can't even count the minutes he played with your pussy. Fingering you so good and then stopped right when you were so close. He did this so many times that you don't trust a single word he says anymore. "You think it's funny?" you finally got his dick inside you. And oh, you're not going to stop until you get to actually cum this time.

"If you wanted me that much you should have said it earlier." he moved his hips forward, to help you. And to help himself.

"Dickhead." you slapped his chest softly. You couldn't listen to his words even if you wanted to. All you did was to move your hips, you needed any kind of friction. Anything that would calm the aching between your legs. Anything that would finally make you cum.

Your hand went between your legs, rubbing your clit, and biting your lip, refusing to let any sounds out that might feed his ego.

"Y/N." he looked in your eyes. He moved your hand away and he started to rub your clit. All you did was to gasp. "Focus. Move your hips like you mean it." this fucker. All he got from you were some little curses you let under your breath and you moving your hips better.

That video ended with you almost cumming. So close that it got Gojo gasping when he saw how fast the video ended. He didn't got to see you cum? The disrespect. The audacity. The idea he just got.

For the first time since you live there, Gojo call you in his room and placed you on his bed. Until now it was your room or any other place around the house. Anywhere but his own bed.

You never thought you'll get to sit in his bed like this. To get to do the forbidden tango in his room.

He got in bed next to you, placing you on his lap nice and cozy, your back pressed against his chest. "Hold this for me, ok?" he handed you his phone.

"What do you want me to do with it?" you asked unsure. You knew he was filming your little escapades for quite some time now, but to hand you the camera himself?

"Film it. Do whatever you want with it. Show me what you want me to see." you got a little unsure there.

"Alright.." you noticed that it was already recording before you thought of something. The camera was facing your face, capturing Gojo behind you. You moved it lower, now facing your chest, not even sure what he wanted to see.

His hands on your hips, slowly getting his dick inside your pussy. That warm thight pussy he loved so much. "Am I doing good?" his hand moved overs yours, moving the camera lower to film how it looked with his cock inside you.

"Make sure to capture everything." Suguru looked at his phone without any words. It didn't matter what Gojo might think of doing next, Geto haves to be the one with the better idea.

And another video was made.

Geto offered to buy the groceries. It was supposed to be Gojo's time this week, and how could he refuse someone else doing his chores for him? And so, Suguru dragged you with him.

The surprise look on Satoru's face to receive an video when you just left half an hour ago. You on top of Suguru in his car, because the dark haired man took Gojo's car for this quick trip. His excuse was that he mistook the keys with his.

He would had expected that video any time, but not today. Not like this. Not when he was took of guard. He couldn't help but look at the screen and turn the volume up.

You're half muffled moans and Geto praising the shit out of you. "Good girl, just like that." and you couldn't help but bounce on him faster. "Keep it slow now, we wouldn't want someone to notice us." oh, but he was actually dying inside for someone to see you two. Both of your roommates hoped for you to get caught.

"Suguru.." you moaned that name so sweetly. Honestly, Satoru was so jealous right now. If he knew sooner, he wouldn't had let someone else do his chores for him. He could have been in that car and fuck you.

He waited for you to come home. He sat right in front of the entrance, waiting for that fucker to appear. He needed to think of something even better. How about fucking you in Suguru's bed? Or making you wear his clothes to make his friend jealous? Even fuck you in them just to prove a point. Bath you in his perfume so you would smell like him. There was so many options.

And he got an even better idea.

He let you rest for that day. No, he let you rest for the rest of that week. Waiting for the perfect day, the perfect moment.

"It's my turn to do the laundry." Geto sighed. "You got anything else left in your rooms? Give it now." Gojo smiled and shook his head.

"I have nothing in my room." you said.

"Me neither."

"Alright then." he waited for Geto to get started with his work, then he dragged you in his room. He was so impatient that he didn't know what to do faster. He was taking your clothes off, his clothes, kissing you, rubbing that pretty pussy so you would get wet faster. He was so impatient that he didn't even prepared you first, the moment you layed on his bed he got in between your legs, forcing his cock inside your pussy. It hurts a little, but it also hurts his pride not being able to outdo his friend.

He's number one. He's the biggest person here.

He got his phone out as soon as he could move better, pressing the record button as fast as he could.

He was thrusting into you, not even once letting you breathe in peace. "You're pussy feels so good." that's all he could say. "Sucking me in like this." what he got in return was a photo of your underwear. A photo where Geto was holding some pairs of panties that he could recognize them in a instant, they were yours.

"I don't think Y/N would mind if I take some of these." Gojo stared at his phone screen. Tsk. He wasn't satisfied with the reaction he got.

"I'll keep the pair that I just took off her." Geto looked displeased at his phone screen. Would his friend be happy if he just barge in there and auto invite himself in? He didn't do that in the end, he already had other things to do. And if he just go there, Gojo would be the winner because that means he gave in.

"Alright, I don't what's going on between you two but I want you to stop." you went the next day in the kitchen, ready to put an end to this endless fighting of theirs. "I know you've been filming and sending the videos to one another, and I want this to end because this is going nowhere." you sighed. "If you want photos that much you should have asked me instead of fighting."

"You'll send me pictures of you if we stop fighting?" Gojo asked like he didn't heard what you just said. He ignored everything until you said that last sentence.

"That's not what I said."

"You said that you would." Geto totally listened to you, but again, he only understands what he wants.

"Did you even listen to me?"

"So, if we get along again and we stop filming you'll do it?" you could only sigh. These guys were so delusional that you couldn't even talk to them like normal people.

"Alright." you didn't even tried anymore, giving up was the best option.

"Is that an yes?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's good because we weren't fighting to begin with." Geto's words left you in disbelief. Huh?

"Ye, we just like to show what we're doing. Nothing much." Gojo said nonchalantly.

"Why didn't you said that earlier?"

"I was waiting for you to finish talking."

"Alright, so. For starter I want to get photos of your boobies. Some videos of you touching yourself here and there to make my day going when I'm tired. I want that pussy fully on display." Gojo already started a list.

"You could send me a picture right now." Geto's words didn't helped the situation.

"Show me what nudes you have in your phone." Satoru got next to you, trying to see your phone and what's in there.

It was your fault for thinking they're normal, because they're not, not at all.

Fortunately for you, your days became more peaceful. You kept your words to send them some pics now and then, and they stopped competing with each other. Oh, and don't think that you could send them the same picture, because they would get mad.

You hated there, but you gotta learn how to live with it, because you were also receiving stuff from them. A dick pic whenever they missed you, even some videos of them touching themselves moaning your name. It was just crazy. It never fails to make your jaw drop.

But your days came back to normal, no? Whatever normal even means anyway.

You woke up on another peaceful morning, because it was quiet and no one disturbed your sleep. You got up from your bed and went in the kitchen. Just wanting to feel their company there, maybe exchange some small talk and then fall asleep since you feel rather tired and lonely. Instead, you saw your house mates with another guy. A tall blonde guy who looked older than both of them.

You didn't know what to say, you just stood there trying to think of your next move. Go back to your room, it was none of your business, you shall not get involved.

"Oh? I didn't know you're up." the white haired man said before you could go back to bed.

"Good morning." Suguru greeted you, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Good morning." you quietly said.

"Don't go just now. Come here." can you get a break? You did as he said, you went and sat down at the table at your usual spot. "Y/N, this is Nanami." Gojo said.

"Nice to meet you." you didn't know what to do.

"Nanami, this is our sweet Y/N." Satoru said it with this weird smile on his face. You had no idea what was going on in his head. Can he not embarrass you for once? You and Nanami sighed at the same time.

"I'm sorry for him. He usually behaves like this so I have no excuse." you said in Gojo's behalf.

"I don't expect much from him anyway." you studied the blonde a little. The expensive watch that was on his wrist, and the nice fancy shirt he had on. He had big shoulders, his muscles could be seen even through his clothes. His posture was flawless, everything about his screamed perfection. You didn't mean to stare, but he was definitely eye catching.

Your housemates were watching you. Who's fault was it for getting Kento here? They should have thought of how you'll react first.

They're jealous again.

They just managed to calm themselves and now it's starting again. This again, this again and again. Can they ever take a break?

Was this what you wanted? A guy like him? What's so perfect about Nanami, huh? Was it how he present himself? He looks tired, like he haven't slept in who knows how long. And yet, that didn't stopped him from dressing like usually or doing what he's supposed to do.

He looks like he was working a 9 to 5, and would treat you right. He looks like he would buy you flowers on a daily basis. He looks like he would remember all those small dates where it supposed to be an anniversary or someone's birthday. He looked like he was there to stay and put a ring on your finger. Was this what you wanted? A husband who would help you raise the kids properly?

Both Gojo and Geto gasped at the same time, they did a big mistake.

"Y/N, no." Satoru finally said something when he came back to reality. He haves to do something now so you won't end up married. Especially to Nanami, he looked like he would be perfect, that's what scares him the most.

"Y/N, go to sleep. It's too early for you." you looked confused at both of them. They told you stay there in the first place.

"Huh?" you looked at them in disbelief.

"Just go."

"Alright..?" you got up from your seat and went back to your room. What a bunch of weirdos.

That day, they promised to become just like the enemy, so that way you won't be impressed by some random fucker out there.

Their plan would fail so miserable, like always, but you can't do shit about it. It's not like you can figure their next move to stop them.

You walked out your room to get something to drink, only to be welcomed by them dressed like they were going to a job interview.

You looked at them, blinked a few times then looked behind you. No cameras or anything, or at least you can't see it. Was this some kind of prank? Was it some kind of special day today?

"You're speechless by how handsome I look, huh?" you blinked a few times. "No need to be shy, admire me as much as you need." Gojo striked a few poses.

"What's the occasion?" you asked getting closer to them.

"I always dress like this." the way Suguru lied with a straight face.

"You do? This is the first time I see you like this." you fixed Gojo's tie. "Do I need to wear a dress or something?"

You got dragged in your room and placed on the bed while they were looking in your closet. They put their hands on everything they saw, bras, panties and anything they could find. It didn't matter. If they see it, they'll get their hands on it.

"So what are we doing?" you asked.

"Playing dress up, isn't it obvious?" Gojo got something in his hands and got closer to your bed. "Hands up." he took your shirt off.

"I don't really see anything for you to try." Geto was still looking through your clothes.

"Let me get those down for you." Satoru took your pants off. His hands traveling back to your panties, wanting to take those off too.

"These stays on."

"Nuh uhh." he tried dragging your panties down, only for you to try to pull them up.

"Let me do it." you tried to protest.

"No." he slapped your hand. "We're playing dress up. Get those off and let me choose another pair for you." you gasped at his actions. Did he really just slapped your hand away?

"Satoru." Geto said something, making you to breathe reassured. "Move away. I'll do it." these fuckers. What could you expect.

"Alright, alright! I'll take them off myself." their eyes on you, you got their full attention. You raised your hips and with a simple move you took your panties off. Your actions will always work like magic on them. The way they're so captivated by such a simple movement.

"Put them back on." Satoru said, his eyes still on your skin. The scene from earlier replaying in his mind over and over again.

"You told me to take them off. Why would I have to put them back on?" you could only complain because of how childish this situation was.

Geto got on his knees in front of you, picking the small material that you just took off. "Get up." he commanded.

Can they stop playing with you for at least a moment? You did as he said tho, you got up and you couldn't do much since your way was blocked by the dark haired man. A kiss placed on your lower stomach before he put your underwear back on you. Your hands were on his shoulders, trying to hold yourself from falling.

"Not fair." Satoru dragged you back on your bed. Your back pressed against the blanket and Gojo in between your legs. He got your panties in between his teeth, slowly dragging them down and tossing it somewhere around the room.

"What got into you two again?" it was something sinister about how they look at you. Their eyes dark and filled with some kind of lust you didn't saw it before. It was normal for you to be horny, it was normal for them too, but now it was different. You had no idea if your insides would be rearranged or you'll have the sweetest time of your life. It scared you.

Gojo was breathing against your pussy, hot breath touching your skin over and over. It made you squirm a little. While Geto's hand went through your hair, moving it from your face. He sat down next to your head, his thumb slowly getting in your mouth, giving you something to occupy yourself with.

"Guys?" their silence was scaring you. All you hoped was that you could still walk tomorrow.

Satoru finally got his face in your pussy, he was practically making out with it. Never giving you a break from the start.

"Eyes up on me." Geto kept reminding you. You couldn't even close your eyes, because if you blinked too fast or too long, he also didn't like that.

You could feel Gojo's long fingers getting inside you. Moving them in and out of you for a moment, making you more wet than you already were. Then he started to curl them, instantly making your body shake.

One side was satisfied with your reactions, the other one not so much.

"Focusm" Suguru wanted you to only look at him. His hand now in your hair, keeping you in place so couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Y/N, look at me." Satoru said your name, placing a kiss on your clit before he started devouring it. Your back arches. Suguru gulped at your fucked up expression. It was cute, no, it was in so many ways that he can't describe it. You were breath taking, now and at any other time of the day, every position and anything you might do from any angle. He wanted to fuck you and see more. He was so close on pushing Gojo away and fuck you the way you deserve it.

Gojo didn't looked happy at the way his friend kept your attention all to himself. "Say my name." it was a beg, it was a request. It sounded like anything but demanding. He sounded needy. He needed to hear you praise him, tell him how good he makes you feel and move your hand in his hair.

"Look at me." Suguru kept demanding the same thing over and over again. It didn't matter who's name you said as long as you're only focused on him, right? That means he won.

However, you realized they're doing it again. That useless fighting. You don't want only one of them, you wanted both. A little bit of what they have to offer you. Whatever they wanted to show you, you'll accept it.

They acted like this ever since Nanami was there. They started acting like this out of jealousy.

You wanted to punish them somehow. It was for the useless things they're thinking about.

You opened your mouth, you wanted to say something, yet no word got out your mouth. What if you said another person name. Someone who's not in the room at the moment. Someone who's not usually here at all. Your eyes were sparkling thinking of ways of torturing them, Geto could see that. Those eyes that looked so lovingly now full of fireworks and that dumb smile you had on your face.

Think of him, look at him. Only see him. Say how much you wanted him. Him and him only. What made you full of life if it wasn't him?

You had to do it. You had to punish them for being selfish again. Yet you couldn't. No matter how much you would love to see their reactions, you knew you were digging your own grave. It's you in the end who will suffer for anything they might deserve.

What if you don't say anything at all? What if you keep your voice to yourself and not let them hear you at all. That's what the silent treatment is after all, no? And so you did, you bite your lower lip and put a hand over your mouth.

Geto could only laugh, thinking that you're afraid someone might hear you. No one besides them would hear a thing, he could reassure that. He moved your hand gently, hopping you'll understand him without a word needed. Yet you still refused to let out any kind of noise. "No one will hear you. So don't worry."

"I know." that's the only words you said. You knew and yet you still do it?

"Maybe it's because of you. Look the other way." Gojo said, his hands around your thighs dragging you closer to him.

"It's actually because of you." Geto said, getting more close to you. You didn't said anything. And this only gave them the wrong idea.

They were trying to imitate the enemy, so, maybe it was their clothes? Or maybe the blonde was still in your head and you were trying to think of him? It infuriats them. They only wants your attention, the way you looked at Nanami so curious, so full of questions. You don't look like that at them.

Gojo got up from between your legs and Geto dragged you up in his lap.

"Why you're being a bad girl? Hm?" Suguru's low voice purred into your ear, so close, it gave you chills.

"Are we not enough? What do you want more." you were sandwiched between them, your back pressed on Geto's chest while Gojo was in front of you, getting his body closer to you with each second passes. Your legs were wrapped around Satoru, mostly because he placed them like this, to make sure to have access to you as much as he could. While Suguru's arms were also wrapped around you, keeping you firmly against him, not letting you move an inch.

You still refused to say a thing even if you had no idea what they're talking about. You just got tired of their games, those stupid thoughts of theirs that made your head spin. You couldn't figure out what was going on with them, why were they like this. What made them like this.

"Say something." Satoru's voice had so many emotions in it. Rage, disappointment. Sadness? It was complicated, yet it made your pussy drip.

"Y/N, do you want to see me mad?" Suguru got one of your hands to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand. You were like a doll in their hands. Standing there without doing much. It was supposed to be your punishment for them, for fucking with your life like this when they could talk everything out. But now you want to back down. Mostly because you were feeling scared. Their eyes were scary, the roughness in their hands scared you. How they're squeezing places around your body so hard that it might leave a bruise, and how quiet they became.

Should you apologize? You had no idea. Was it too late to say something?

You opened your mouth, eyes on you for your next move. Yet you still didn't say a thing. You close your mouth and looked away. If they're getting on your nerves you'll definitely say someone else's name to piss them off.

Are you not allowed to get mad? Do you have no right to do so? They did it with their own hands. You can put them in place however you want, whenever you wanted. No, in fact, you'll give them some time to think about this, about how they act in general. Sure, you have no problem with them being themselves, you love it. But it was until some certain point where you would tolerate their behavior.

You put your palms on the bed trying to get up somehow. That action itself made them go feral in the worst way possible. Why are you doing this to them? Their hearts almost stopped working.

"Don't do this, come on." no matter how mad you might be, their pleas sounded like a sweet melody. It was the way they're melting in your arms. Satoru's voice sounded broken when he spoke. You're not even doing much, yet it affects them so much. Both of them were weak for you, you got them on their knees trying to get your attention. Of course they would get mad if another is trying to get in.

You didn't said anything, only looking at them, those big eyes again, it was like the first time you interacted with them. So curious about your surroundings. You looked up at Suguru, and then looked at Satoru, who were looking at you trying to figure out what in the world is going on in your head.

"Say something." Geto's voice was so soft, even if he was angry at you. His hand went lower on your body, caressing your soft skin, somehow hoping that you'll warm up. Maybe you wanted more of their attention? "It's your fault." Suguru looked at Gojo.

"Me? You were the one who was like, look at me. Maybe she got enough of your ass." Satoru tried to imitate Geto's voice.

"Me? It's you. You started this." you tried to not laugh. You can't give up yet, all you wanted was to hear them say that they're sorry, or anything that shows that they realized their mistake, nothing more. But they're refusing to believe it's their fault.

"Alright, stop." you sighed softly. "Think about what you both did." they're still thinking about how you might be seeing another, forgetting about them. Moving out of this place and leaving them to be as miserable as they used to be, all sad and not even happy to be back home, spend all their time outside just to forget about their loneliness.

How dare you play with their feelings? For once in their lifetime they're serious about something and you're just toying with them? Gojo got his hands on your hips, dragging your ass on him, positioning himself after he undid his belt. With a simple movement, his cock was out his pants. Now he was getting in front of your entrance, ready to get inside. Why did you looked surprise, huh. "Why don't you think about what you did?" he's trying to imitate your words, like you're the bad guy.

You gasped when he pushed himself inside you all the way in with a single move, if he could at least give you an warning. Geto got your face in his hand, making you look up at him. "Inside voice. Don't let a single word out." this was ridiculous. What were they even thinking?

You frown, you didn't know what to say or do. You had them in your palm, right? Why were they like this then? This wasn't your plan. All you wanted was for them to think about their actions.

You wanted both of them, you gave your time to both of them. It wasn't only one who received your attention, it was both. You didn't let a single one feel left out, and they still dare to think that you're selfish.

"Bad boys." you said out of breath, trying to degrade them somehow.

"Oh yeah?" Satoru could only laugh. "I can show you how bad I really am."

"Sweetie, you have no idea what you're talking about." Geto felt amused by your words. They were so considered of you until now, or they tried. Sure, it might have not work all the time since they forget halfway through that's not only about them. But they tried, no? It was improvement in a way or another.

Gojo's hands were gripping your hips, moving in and out. The friction was overwhelming. You wanted to change the position, it was uncomfortable. You don't know where to even look when they were squeezing you between them.

Your hands were shaking, you didn't know where to put them since both of them annoyed you. You wanted to keep them to yourself, yet you were dying to do something.

You closed your eyes, grabbing your own thighs and leaving red marks on them from your nails, being around them was so stressful.

You bite your lower lip, trying your best to stay put it place. A few tears went down your face, the way Gojo was fucking into you was just.. Just. You can't even say words. "Cry for me. Let me hear that voice." Satoru's face went to your shoulder, trying to rest against it.

"Keep that voice inside." Geto was trying to push Gojo away. Wanting to tournament you for a little longer.

"Don't listen to him." the white haired man was out of breath, voice so low that it gave you chills. "Open your eyes, look at me."

Suguru's hand went under your chin, raising it to make you look at him. "Look at me." his voice sounded so soft compared to his thoughts and actions. You kept your eyes closed, wanting only to focus on their voices, on how they breathe.

"Fuck." Gojo said out of breath. He bite into your shoulder, making you groan for a moment.

Then a sudden thought went through Geto's head. He could do something so funny right now, something that could help you feel better, or not. It all depends on your performance. So, his hand traveled to your pussy, rubbing your clit in small circles and making your walls squeeze Satoru's dick. Couldn't they just act like this and stop being fuckers?

Without even thinking, one of your hands went of Gojo's shoulder while the other grabbed Geto's arm. You were shaking, you were biting your lip and you were so close. Satoru could feel that, and Suguru realized what was going on by your actions, you look desperate only when your about to cum.

Now, this is where was the funny part, at least for Geto. He dragged his hand back, leaving you with less friction than before. But that only caught Gojo's attention who understood what was going on without a single word needed. So, now you were left all alone without any kind of pleasure or friction, since even the white haired guy got out of you, leaving you there panting heavily and trying to understand what was going on. This left a bad feeling in your stomach, it left you all confused and trying to regain your conscious, your brain couldn't work properly.

"Why do you look so disappointed?" they were mocking you, you could feel it by the tone of their voices.

"Were you close?" so painfully close. That would have been a good orgasm if they didn't stopped.

Suddenly, you woke up being turned around, ass in the air and face pressed against your blanket. "Up." Satoru moved in front of you, making you rest your body weight on your arms.

"Be a good girl and you might cum this time." Suguru was behind you, placing a slap on your ass before he pushed his cock inside you.

You could feel a hand behind your neck, dragging your face up to look at the white haired man. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips for a moment before he too pushed his dick inside your mouth. They loved stuffing you good, didn't they? The way you struggle to take them, and yet doing so good.

Maybe it was your fault too, for ending up like this. You knew you shouldn't have fucked around with them, but you always go back, asking for more and letting them do whatever they wanted with you. Plus, you feel so good, like, so so good. It was impossible to hold back around you.

That's why they keep pushing more of them inside of you, trying to make you take more. Because you, yourself are greedy for more. You always end up begging for more, so how could they not give you more?

"Relax." Suguru said as he kept feeling you clenching around him, making him groan as one of his hands was traveling around your body.

But how could you relax? You were so close, and knowing them, they might deny you again. You wanted to cum, you needed this orgasm and if they're edging you again you swear you will leave through that door and find somebody who will give you what you want. They seemed to enjoy this, so why couldn't you do as well?

Your hand went to the one behind you, dragging him closer and making sure he stays there. Just a little more, it was so close. You might as well start crying because of how it was feeling.

A thing that they loved more than edging you over your limits was seeing you cum. It was something about the way you look when you're all fucked up. So it wasn't surprising when they dropped everything they were doing and focused on you, because they too know this would be a big one.

You woke up with your face against the bed sheets, hands all over you once again and all kind of words being whispered in your ear, about how good you're doing. How you'll get a lot more after this, how they'll make you cum again and again, for as long as you want. Well, you both know that some of those were lies, because it was more about until when they want this to continue.

Your cries were satisfying, and they aren't even afraid to admit that. How you grip the sheets underneath you, or how you moved your hand on Satoru, holding into him as you came, leaving a big mess on the bed as your body juices came out.

They both looked at you, not believing what they just saw. "Did you just squirted?" the white haired man said, whistling at the view you're giving him.

"I'm sure she can do it again, can't she?" that was more than enough to know that it would be a long day. You doub you'll be able to get out of bed any time soon, and who knows, maybe it won't be as bad as you think.

[blacktabbygames]

Hello, after enjoying Slay the Princess and checking out your other game, I absolutely fell in love with Scarlet Hollow. It is such a beautiful game with such a comfy yet horrifying atmosphere, it’s so unique and it is undoubtedly my favorite narrative of any game I’ve played, I eagerly await your continued efforts. 

With The Roads Untraveled and Chapter 5 next in your sights I had a couple questions regarding that state and current features of the game. 

“With new routes being made and narrative alterations happening for the currently released chapters, what will be the status of current saves and will they be able to be continued when Chapter 5 is released?” I intend on continuing my first save when any new chapter releases so my very first ‘complete’ playthrough will be seeing all the content blind. But if you go back to change material previously implemented, I am curious on what will be the procedure if existing saves contain decisions that have been changed. 

“Will hardcore mode be expanded to new chapters, and if so will it remain available from the beginning going forward or will we have to clear a chapter normally to unlock its hard mode?” 

“Hardcore mode allows for the choice of 3 traits rather than 2 when Scarlet Hollow is clearly designed around having 2 with the different synergies and certain choices that use both. Is there any chance that hardcore combination will be added that use 3 traits?”

“In general, is there any intention to expand hardcore mode?” Hardcore mode is my personal favorite as I really enjoy difficult decisions in games and not being able to always have a perfect option. For a game with ‘You can’t save everyone’ on all the marketing, the trait get out of jail free cards always kind of rubbed me the wrong way. So an option to disable those and get an extra trait meaning more dialogue and character strengths had no downside to me. I am curious if there are any plans for differences between a hardcore route and a normal one in regard to story or otherwise, seeing as a hardcore world is one with every sacrifice made. 

You have made an amazing game and I have been hard at work spreading your gospel among my friends and family. 

Hi! Thank you for being a hardcore mode superfan. I think it's pretty neat and that everyone should do a hardcore playthrough at some point for maximum pain. :) Answers in bold: “With new routes being made and narrative alterations happening for the currently released chapters, what will be the status of current saves and will they be able to be continued when Chapter 5 is released?” We never make any narrative changes to the game that invalidate pre-existing saves.

“Will hardcore mode be expanded to new chapters, and if so will it remain available from the beginning going forward or will we have to clear a chapter normally to unlock its hard mode?” Once you unlock hardcore mode, you unlock hardcore mode, but as more episodes release in the future, its initial unlock will continue to move to the end of the most recent episode. (So if you haven't unlocked it yet, you'll have to finish Episode 5 to unlock it after that release, and then when 6 and 7 release as a pair, you'll need to finish the game. But if you already have it unlocked you'll retain access.) Hardcore mode is very much a supplementary way to enjoy the story, so placing it at the end of the game feels right.

“Hardcore mode allows for the choice of 3 traits rather than 2 when Scarlet Hollow is clearly designed around having 2 with the different synergies and certain choices that use both. Is there any chance that hardcore combination will be added that use 3 traits?” No. It's a lot of extra work for a supplementary game-mode. There will probably be some instance where tree logic means you effectively get something like this, however. (i.e. situation X requires traits a and b to reach based on earlier decisions, we forget this while writing, and add a menu option for trait c.)

“In general, is there any intention to expand hardcore mode?” Hardcore mode is my personal favorite as I really enjoy difficult decisions in games and not being able to always have a perfect option. For a game with ‘You can’t save everyone’ on all the marketing, the trait get out of jail free cards always kind of rubbed me the wrong way. Yes and no. Hardcore mode was designed to offer a rich alternative to the base game primarily through emergent narrative. So while we're not consciously adding something specific to hardcore mode, there will likely be dialogue combinations and scenes that are only attainable through a combination of things that can happen over the course of a hardcore playthrough. These are interactions that would have been written regardless (because we're as thorough about fringe worldstates as possible) but may not have been accessible (or would be very difficult to access from the main playthrough.)

From a labor perspective, we built hardcore mode because it offered a whole new way to play the game in exchange for very little development effort — I think it took about a day to set things up and rework the logic around major decisions. Putting a bunch of extra development time into it defeats the purpose of that efficiency, especially when the game is complicated enough as is. We do have more projects we'd like to get to after Scarlet Hollow is done, which does require it being done at some point ;)

[toxic3mmy]

i thought your pregnant y/n x alex was so cute… but what about smut? i feel like alex would worship the hell out of his pregnant girlfriend, ESPECIALLY in bed teeheee XD

prompt: alex and his pregnant girlfriend hcs/smut

warning: smut!!!!

alex would always ask you if you’re comfortable, how you’re feeling, etc

he definitely would constantly cook and make sure your pregnancy cravings are satisfied

he would drive you everywhere, even though he did that since you started dating

he would also open doors for you, clean the house, cook for you, all while he practically forced you to nap

he would want to make sure you are always well rested

he also would give you prenatal vitamins and make a bunch of healthy snacks for you and the baby

he for sure would be completely turned on by the fact that you’re pregnant,

in fact, he would be completely at your service 24/7, especially during sexy time

he also did loads of research on if sex would hurt the baby

but either way, he would be so very gentle and loving to you in bed

i think when it came to sex with his pregnant gf, it’d be something like this;

~

you were more than halfway through your pregnancy. your belly was starting to show a lot more and alex loved it.

you were sitting on your couch, watching some new show you found on netflix. alex finished cleaning the kitchen after dinner and he sat next to you.

“hi love, how are you feeling?”

“my back still hurts from the baby but i’m okay” you said as your boyfriend put his arm around you, lightly rubbing a shoulder

“you’re real tense, here, come and sit in front of me”

you situated yourself in between alex’s legs and relaxed at his touch

he began to rub the muscles on your back, making sure to soothe the tension. you couldn’t help but let out soft moans from his massaging. he smiled and kissed your neck softly

“you’re so beautiful like this” he whispered

you smiled at him and he continued to rub your shoulders. your little whimpers and sighs were making alex rut up against your ass. you felt him harden against you.

“i’ve been a good boy, don’t you think?” he said innocently, running a hand along your belly

“i’ve been,” he kisses your jaw “such a good boy..” then he makes his way to your mouth

“please mami, i promise i’ll take care of you”

your breath was caught in your throat

alex laid you down onto the couch the two of you were sat on and he gently hovered over you

“just let me please you…” he whispered before kissing down your neck and stopping at your breasts

he removed your shirt and bra and stared at you in awe before getting back to work

his tongue drew slow circles around your sensitive nipple while your other was tended to by his soft fingers

you felt yourself getting more and more wet as he switched sides and continued to suck eagerly at your tits

he stopped pawing at your breast and moved his hands to undress your bottom half

you were completely naked and almost sobbing at the loss of contact

alex looked at you as if you were a piece of art, because to him you were

you made grabby hands at him and he chuckled as you pulled him against your lips for a while longer. after he pulled away, he propped your legs up to give him access to your heat

once again, his tongue got to work, swirling and sucking on every little part of your pussy. you felt yourself getting closer and alex knew it too and so he stopped abruptly

he pulled his clothing off and held himself in his hand

“look at what you do to me…” he whimpered as he pulled at himself lazily

he then positioned himself near your entrance, pulling your body closer to him. you both gasped as he slowly entered you

“f-fuck… you feel— mmf” he whimpered as you clenched your gummy wet walls around him

“hey, you dont have to be so gentle, okay? i promise you won’t hurt me” you stopped his movements and looked at him with sincerity in your eyes

“please let me know if we need to stop…” he shakily began to fasten his pace

you were in complete bliss as his cock hit that perfect spot inside of you

“right fucking there!” you practically screamed out

he pulled you impossibly closer, holding your hips at an angle and fucked into you. your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands instinctively gripped the couch cushions

you quickly shoved him down onto the couch and sat yourself onto his leaking dick

“fuck, this is what got you pregnant in the first place. you’re so sexy y/n” he grunted out, and all you could do was moan out for him to shut the fuck up and go deeper

“deeper? like this, hm? want me to give you another baby?” he was holding your hips, pounding into you relentlessly now

“cum all over me, mami, show me how much you love your good boy” he was begging now and you couldn’t even speak as your climax washed over your entire body

you shook as you came down from your high and got off of alex, kneeling down on the floor before placing his cock on your tongue. you jerked him off expertly and with one more flick of your wrist, he painted your face like a god damn monet

“fuck, y/n.. we’re seriously going to have to consider a vasectomy because i don’t think i’ll ever stop fucking you and i as much as i love kids, i can’t afford a million babies” he laughed, helping you up from the floor

“shut up and run us a bath” you rolled your eyes playfully

“a tus ordenes, princesa” he said with a salute and you smiled, shaking your head

this boy will be the death of you

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Coalescence part 2/3

Part One

Summary:

She’s so nervous that her breath catches in her lungs and doesn’t come back out, from her side she can hear Viktor’s foot tapping a frantic rhythm against the tiles. Without even thinking it through, her hand finds his and grabs it tight. He doesn’t pull back, if anything he holds hers even tighter. The question rises once again, unbidden. What are we? AKA: She works with Viktor for seven years, she is in love with him for five of them.

Contains: she/her pronouns, supremely slow burn, sharing a bed, canon typical illness stuff.

Word Count: 12,181

Read on AO3

The next year feels a lot slower than the last few had, without the relentless push from the council to get the Hexgates finished, work stagnates as the three of them try to figure out what to make next. A few months in she gets sick of sitting on the other side of the room and goes through the arduous process of rearranging the furniture. She has to move Jayce’s desk first and then the blackboard and then she finally has enough room to squeeze herself in, the fact that the only available spot is next to Viktor’s desk is only serendipitous, at least that’s what she tells herself. Jayce seems pretty excited about the change when he comes in, that maybe the rearrangement might be enough to finally get all their synapses firing. 

Viktor, by comparison, sits quietly next to her and doesn't even acknowledge the change for the first few hours, just scoffs when she asks to borrow his ink for her pen, “If you’ve only moved your desk next to mine for access to my stationary then I’ll be very upset.” despite his words, he slides it over to her desk, “You’re lucky I’m so accommodating.” 

She wants to say something about how his stationary is the last thing on her mind, but instead, she just laughs and replies, “Very lucky, thank you.”

A few weeks after her impromptu rearrangement, she comes into the lab to find a new desk sitting where hers once was and more surprisingly, a person sitting at the desk. Shocked, she lurks in the doorway while trying to figure out what to say, only for the visitor to notice her and immediately jump up from her chair and rush over to greet her. 

“Hi! I’m Sky! It’s so great to meet you!” She says, grabbing one of her hands between two of her own, “I’m the new lab assistant! Viktor hired me!” She blinks for a moment, trying to find a way to reply that doesn't make her seem utterly repellant, “I thought I was the lab assistant…” is what came out, and it wasn't the energy she had been aiming for. 

Sky laughs, “You’re funny. It’s nice to know you three have a sense of humour.” she finally releases her hand before readjusting her glasses, “If you ever need anything, I’ll either be here or in the botany lab down the hall. I’m going to study as much as I can while I have the chance, but I’ll always be nearby.”

When Viktor eventually arrives and sits at his desk, she scoots her chair a little closer to his and whispers, “Why’d you hire another assistant?” “Sky’s an old friend and we’re going to need the help-” he pauses a moment and then spins his chair to face her, “Why did you say another assistant?” “Because I’m your assistant.” Viktor lets out a disbelieving laugh, “ You haven’t been our assistant in a very long time.”

Her heart thrums nervously in her chest, and all she can let out is a weak little, “...huh?”

“You’re a partner.” Viktor clarifies as he rests his hand on her forearm, “A friend .” a beat, his thumb lightly rubbing against her bare skin, “and you always made terrible coffee, it was time to let you off the hook”

She laughs and playfully slaps his hand away.

It’s only a month after that when Jayce has the idea that changes the trajectory of their research for the foreseeable future. They had all been sitting at their desks, doing barely any work. It was still just under a year before the next progress day and without an active request from the council, there wasn’t all that much pressure for them to create something. She had been entertaining herself with a paper ball that she was tossing up into the air, Jayce was flicking paperclips into an empty crate on the other side of the room, and even Viktor had been absently spinning around in his chair for the past hour, which was definitely out of the ordinary for him. 

“Maybe we need a change of scenery?” Jayce suggests, hanging his head low when he finishes his last box of paperclips. 

She scoffs, tossing the paper ball in the air once again, “It’s not like we can take the research outside with us.”

“Even if we could, it would be far too dangerous to take any of the crystals out of the lab.” Viktor supplies, completing another rotation on his chair, “They are too volatile.”

Jayce sighs, “I didn’t literally mean moving the lab equipment outside, guys. I just thought we could take a walk and-” 

When the paper ball finishes its most recent arc into the air, she doesn’t bother catching it again, instead pointing a finger in Jayce’s direction, “That’s your idea face! You have an idea!”

Viktor freezes mid-spin, quickly rotating himself to face Jayce whose eyebrows are drawn tight. After another moment just sitting there and staring straight forward, Jayce leaps up from his chair and starts frantically pacing back and forth. 

“Oh yes!” Viktor says enthusiastically, turning to look at her over his shoulder, “He definitely has an idea.”

Jayce laughs breathlessly and then stalls in the middle of the room, erupting into a passionate and wildly gesticulated speech about finally being able to bring Hextech to the people instead of just serving the whims of the council, about working on smaller devices that could be mass-produced and (importantly) would have a far shorter development time than something as large scale as the Hexgates. As he spoke, she couldn’t resist shifting her gaze to Viktor, leaning forward on her desk to get a better angle on his face and nearly melting at the impassioned warmth in his eyes, the delectably sweet tug of his lips. 

“Before we get ahead of ourselves,” Viktor begins, trying not to seem as exhilarated as he clearly is, “We need to figure out a way to stabilise the crystals, then we can focus on utility.” “God, I’ve missed this,” She says with a warm smile dancing around her mouth, “When can we start?”

***

It’s full steam ahead in the lab for the next few months, literally, to some degree. Before fully joining the Hextech team she had spent a brief portion of time studying glass-blowing and shaping and while she was only half joking when she suggested that they should try tempering the crystals, it ended up being the first step to the final solution. While a collision with physical objects causes a volatile reaction in the crystals, standing about twenty feet back in the Talis family forge, they learned that heat did not cause the same problem. Tempering Hextech crystals turned out to be a much more exhaustive process than tempering glass though, and every step of the way they were worried about causing some sort of disaster in the forge. 

Sky became an invaluable resource and her contagious energy meant that she also very quickly became a friend. While she wasn’t able to commit her full time to the lab because she had her own studies to worry about, she was always around to help copy down notes when everyone else had full hands or to provide encouragement whenever it started to feel like the next hurdle was impossible. Viktor was also right, Sky made a much better coffee than she ever could. 

“Damn.” She mutters, sipping gingerly on the very hot coffee, “How do you stop it from tasting so watery?” Sky laughed, expertly working the coffee machine in the small tearoom in the sciences wing of the academy, “I worked at a coffee shop in the undercity for a few years, all muscle memory.” she explained, popping a lid on Jayce’s coffee and then scooping one spoonful of sugar into the final vacant cup. 

“Viktor takes two sugars.” She says quickly, probably too quickly. 

Sky gives her an odd look, and then chuckles, “I was about to add another one, but thanks for the help.” She suddenly finds her own reflection in the cup of coffee very interesting.

While the work on finding a way to stabilise the crystals took almost all of their time, it was impossible to stop herself from peering in Viktor’s direction whenever she had a spare moment. He had lied about the leg brace just being for the gala, he didn't wear it every day and on the days that he did he claimed to have plans to take a walk out in the city when they wrapped up in the lab, but she usually caught him walking straight back to his dorm as always. She and Jayce would often share a worried look on days that he showed up wearing it but both could sense he didn't want any attention being drawn to it. There were other changes too, smaller ones, that might have gone unnoticed by anyone from outside the lab. His breath quickened and the hours he used to spend working out calculations and formulas on the blackboard were now spent at his desk instead, his angles sharpened and his face slowly began to lose its softness. 

“Just tired.” He responds, whenever she asks how he is feeling. 

Her eyebrows pinch, an insidious fear taking up residence behind her ribs, “You're tired a lot.” 

He sighs, and she is standing close enough that he can rest his head on the swell of her hip, “I am”

She wraps her arm around his shoulders to hold him against her, aching with the weight of a familiar question.

While he moves slower, he doesn't stop moving. When she and Jayce try to untangle just how to temper the crystals, Viktor sits on a chair nearby taking furious notes and offering suggestions. He sits at his desk with Sky as the two of them start sketching potential designs for smaller-scale Hextech projects. Viktor is, of course, there on the day that they manage to create their first successful gemstone. The crystals temper a lot stronger than glass does and were (so far as they could tell) completely resistant to shattering. The final test happens back in the forge where this process all began, with her and Viktor waiting impatiently on the other side of a wrought iron metal door with only a small glass window to watch through as Jayce bravely performs the final test of the gemstone’s durability. 

Jayce waves at them both, though they can barely see his face under the full set of protective armour he is wearing just in case they were off with their calculations. Despite all the preliminary testing and Viktor’s absolute belief in the gemstone’s structural integrity, she still nervously chews on her thumbnail as she watches Jayce set it down on the anvil. Though she doesn’t express her nervousness, Viktor still notices, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Jayce will be fine.” He says confidently, “We’re ready.” She lets out a shaky sigh, the orange firelight from inside the forge washes gently across Viktor’s face at sets his eyes ablaze. His posture is more lopsided than it used to be, his left shoulder kicked up where he is putting almost all of his standing weight on his cane. Her feelings are discombobulating, a dizzying mixture of fear and denial with an overlarge dash of something aching and desperate that she is still too afraid to give a name despite so many years of feeling it.

“Knowing you think so makes me feel a lot better.” She replies, turning her gaze back to the tiny window, “I envy your optimism.” 

“I wouldn’t call it optimism .” He says, wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of her head, “Determination, maybe?” 

She softens against him, his touch is familiar by now and while it no longer sends her awash with nerves to feel it, a warmth still settles in her stomach that she is unable to do away with. Her arm slides around his waist and clutches him tight, breath high in her chest as she watches Jayce take a few cautious steps towards the gemstone, clutching an oversised smithing hammer in his hands. Just as he raises it in the air, she’s so panicked that she can’t bear to watch and spins to bury her face in Viktor’s chest. She swears she hears his breath catch, and while he stumbles a little to adjust for the new weight, it only takes him a moment to regain his footing. From behind her closed eyes, she hears the echoing boom of the hammer making impact and then a ringing silence where an explosion would have been, if there was going to be one. 

Viktor lets out a breathless, overjoyed laugh, his hand rubbing enthusiastic circles between her shoulder blades, “We’re going to be able to do some real good now.” He says, “I can feel it.”

The leadup to the next progress day is a stressful one, a great deal of their time was spent tempering enough gemstones for testing purposes and the process was hard enough to replicate that they didn't feel comfortable letting anyone other than her or Jayce near the forge. Even Viktor found it a bit intimidating in there and preferred to sit back while the two of them worked. So while she was spending months and months writing detailed instructions for the tempering methods in preparation for the day that smallscale Hextech devices went public, for now, it was still safer to handle that part themselves. Once they finally have enough gemstones for the prototyping stage, they leave the forge behind for the far more familiar walls of the lab. She continues working to transcribe all the notes they have on the process of refining Hextech gemstones, while Viktor, Jayce and occasionally Sky toss ideas back and forth. 

It takes a lot of late nights glowering at the blackboard and throwing out hundreds of ideas before Viktor finally has the idea to find a way to improve working conditions for miners in the fissures. She can tell that it’s a personal mission for him, the way he talks about what conditions were like when he was still living in the Undercity and she, Jayce and Sky all agree with the idea wholeheartedly. They have far less time before progress day than they would like, but after narrowing the scope of Viktor’s idea to a maximum of two projects for now, it feels doable. Viktor has a bit of his pep back, which also helps to soothe her worries. While he isn't moving around as much as she remembers, his enthusiasm surrounding their new project can be heard in every word, seen in every exaggerated gesticulation. 

One day she is completely lost watching him with wrapt attention as he and Jayce discuss what kind of metal would best be suited for the final version of the devices. Utterly absorbed in each and every minute movement of his lovely hands, in the bright vibrancy of his eyes. 

“He was like this as a kid too,” Sky says, snapping her out of her stupor. 

“What, sorry?”

Sky laughs and inclines her head in his direction, “Viktor. We grew up in the same neighbourhood if you could call it that. He was always tinkering with something instead of playing with the other kids.” She shrugs a shoulder, “He always inspired me, still does, maybe even more so.” 

“Yeah.” She replies wistfully, watching as Viktor excitedly gestures to an equation on the blackboard, causing Jayce to pick up the chalk and start making edits, “He’s certainly inspiring.”

***

With only two months left before progress day, the prototypes still aren’t in any sort of state to show the public even though they are almost complete. Especially since the gauntlet keeps insisting that it wants to remain clenched in a fist no matter how hard they try to convince it otherwise. It’s that terrible part of development, where all the brainstorming and assembly is completed and all that’s left is struggling to figure out the last remaining kinks. Despite not being able to make much progress, the four of them are in the lab from sunrise to sunset almost every day. Sky often wears the gauntlet for hours straight as they all take turns trying to diagnose the issue and Jayce almost loses a finger to the Hexclaw when he gets a little impatient in getting it out of the way and forgets to disengage the gemstone. 

She’s tired. They all are. Sky at some point admits that she can’t keep up these hours when she has her own studies to work on and returns to only dropping by when they need help, but the main Hextech team persists, pulling allnighters and sometimes even falling asleep on the floor of the lab in a big pile. At the very least they endure the stress together. With the initial excitement of development over and the growing sleep deprivation, Viktor starts looking worse again. His already pale skin turns papery ashen and the bags under his eyes are purple like a permanent bruise. One day he shows up with a crutch instead of his cane. He doesn’t even try to create an excuse for it, just sits at his desk and starts working before either she or Jayce can ask questions. That’s when they quickly make the decision to insist that all three of them stop spending so much time in the lab, enforcing a cut-off time where, regardless of progress made, the three of them would all head back to their dorms for the evening. While he seems a little irritated by the idea at first, Viktor does agree. None of them are getting any good work done and a proper sleep schedule might be just the thing to change that.

It’s not a perfect system though. Some nights she sneaks work home with her and knows that Viktor is doing the same, but at the very least he’s more likely to fall asleep in his bed that way. Other nights she is still so anxious about their upcoming deadline that she can’t force herself to sleep, even as the time ticks through until the AM. 

One such night, she dashes her way back to the lab well past 2:00 am. She had been planning to tire herself out by reading the book she had rented from the academy library, but she had left it on her desk in her rush to get home that evening. It’s cold when the sun goes down, so she wraps her arms around herself to avoid the chill as she finally draws closer to the lab. The academy can be a little spooky at night, especially alone. It looks a lot different without the usual warm lighting, and the sound of her feet echoes off the tiles and the whole way down the hall. When the door comes into view, she doubles her pace in the hopes of being back in her bed as soon as possible. 

She wipes her eyes and lets out a yawn as she unlocks the door, only to freeze at the entrance of the lab when the cool blue light of a Hextech gemstone still shines brightly from Viktor’s desk. It’s concerning, because they're usually very careful to lock them away when no one is inside. That's when she notices Viktor slumped on the desk, head resting atop his folded arms, he's still, he's so still that it makes an ice-cold panic start rushing through her veins. She calls his name out, walking towards him, and then again when he doesn't answer, hurrying her pace to reach him as soon as she can, her breath coming hard and fast and desperate as she reaches out and grabs him by the shoulder. 

At her touch, he startles immediately, inhaling a shocked and wheezy breath. 

“Thank god.” She exhales, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in the join between his neck and shoulder. He's still only half awake, one of his large hands coming to rest on her forearm.

“I fell asleep.” He whispers 

“Yeah.” She replies quietly, trying to calm the adrenaline still racing through her, “You did.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He clarifies slowly, trying to take stock of where he is, “And I came back here thinking that maybe I could solve our problems with the gauntlets before tomorrow morning.” He lets out a breathless laugh and runs a shaky hand through his hair, “My exhaustion must have caught up with me, I apologise.” She doesn’t move, her arms still clutch tightly around him when she lets out a shaky little breath against the skin of his neck. He was just tired, overworked just like her and Jayce. It’s not the first time he’s fallen asleep at his desk, not the first time any of them have. Her heart slowly calms at the feeling of him between her arms, the slow brush of his hand against her bare forearm. She almost wants to laugh, what had she even been thinking? That he had- 

No . There’s no point in even thinking it. He’s fine, she was worrying for nothing. 

“C’mon.” She says, unwrapping her arms from around his shoulders and smiling down at him, “You need to get to bed” He smiles weakly, and she watches with pain in her chest as he puts all of his weight on his crutch to pull himself up from the chair, “Don’t you need to get to bed too?” he asks, giving her just a glimpse of that mischievous smile she loves so much.

“I'll walk you back first.” She replies, heart in her throat, “Your room is closer anyway.”

Viktor looks at her curiously for a moment, and then replies, “Yes, I suppose it is.”

It isn't, they both know it, but the lie is comfortable and the fact that Viktor is willing to go along with it sends a dizzying rush down to her fingertips. They walk in comfortable silence, it reminds her of their first walk together on the way to the music wing, though a lot slower. His crutch makes more of a thunk than the click that his cane used to, but the sound is still good at helping her keep pace with him. The last thing she wants is for him to think that he’s slowing her down. He isn’t, he couldn't, a longer walk is akin to a gift for her, there's so little time for them to meet outside the lab these days that even this minuscule moment is enough for a syrupy warmth to spread through her veins. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Viktor asks when they reach his door. His voice is thick and his tone uncertain, she catches the way his free hand clenches nervously at his side. 

She nods, “Just for a second. It’ll be nice to warm up.” His smile is warm and his eyes shine like amber, “Yes.” He begins, quickly unlocking his door and stepping to the side to let her in first,  “It is cold, isn't it?” It isn’t, but the lie is comfortable. 

“Freezing.” She replies, smiling up at him and walking through the doorway.

This is hardly the first time she’s visited his dorm, though it’s usually during the day to pick something up or drop something off, once or twice to deliver lunch when she suspected that he forgot to eat and on one notable occasion, for a cup of coffee while she struggled through translating his notes into something comprehensible for the council. It looks much the same as she remembers it, very cluttered but still neat. He has stacks of books and piles of notes all over the room and a corkboard with so many overlapping sketches, notes and blueprints that its impossible to see the cork underneath. The floor is clear, though, all his frantic scientific mess is left across desks or bookshelves, a hard divide been his work life and home life. 

Viktor shuts the door behind himself and starts making his way across the space to where she can only assume his bedroom is. He looks at her over his shoulder and says, “You’ll have to give me a minute. Make yourself at home, I won’t be long.” “Oh, okay. No worries.” She replies, wondering what he has to do back there. He might just want to change into something more comfortable for the evening, which is completely reasonable, even if it makes her cheeks warm to think about. Now that she’s actually standing alone in the middle of his sitting room does she finally remember that she’s wearing her pyjamas. They aren’t at all scandalous, thankfully, but she does feel underdressed. After a moment, she sits tentatively on his couch, trying to find the perfect balance between comfortable but not too comfortable for when he comes back out. She drums her fingers against her thigh, trying to ignore just how much it smells like Viktor in here when she hears him call her name. 

She leaps up from the couch, “Yes? Are you okay?” There’s a moment of silence, and then he replies, “I’m fine, I just-” he’s muffled on the other side of the door, but she hears what sounds like a foreign expletive, “I’d appreciate your help, if you’re willing.”

She would be willing to do anything for him, so she walks towards the closed door and then says, “I am.” she swallows nervously, “Can I come in?” “Please.” He replies quietly. 

Her heart races as she opens the door, this part of his dorm she has never seen before. He has a few plants that seem to be in various stages of deceased, a completely full bookshelf, a large wooden dresser and a second, smaller desk that is covered in just as many notes as the one out in the sitting room. His crutch leans against the wall and the man himself sits on the edge of his bed, looking like he’d prefer if she didn't even notice him. “How can I help?” She asks. He looks up at her and then sighs, “The clasps at my ankle.” he says, inclining his head towards his brace, “I’m stiff today I-” “It’s okay.” She replies, already lowering to her knees, “I can do it, don’t even worry about it.” It’s clear that he is still worrying about it, even with her insistence not to. The muscles in his jaw are tight and he turns to face the wall, unwilling to meet her eyes. She doesn’t take any offence, she can tell this is humiliating for him, even though she feels nothing but adoration as her fingers meet the metal clasp at the base of his brace. Luckily the mechanism is intuitive and she doesn’t need any help in undoing it, though her trembling hands make it harder. She is not unaware of the suggestive nature of her positioning, on her knees, between his thighs, but she manages to push past the cloyingly thick implication because more than anything she just wants to help him. 

“Thank you.” He says quietly, when his ankle is loose, “I can reach the rest myself if you’d like to return to the couch for now.” Despite his tired expression, he looks very pretty above her like this, his hair is tousled and hanging slightly in his eyes and the dim lighting in the room catches on all his sharp edges in the perfect way. She sucks a shaky breath in through her nose and then suggests, “I might as well do the rest.” her smile is shaky with nerves, and her voice wavers when she adds, “It just makes sense. I’m already down here after all.” The room feels quieter without the sound of Viktor’s wheezing breath, that’s the only way she realises he’s holding it, “I, ah-” he clears his throat, “Yes. I suppose it only makes sense.” Her next smile is stronger, and more confident as she begins to undo the rest of the clasps and buckles. Viktor has to help her with a few of them, the one at his knee is particularly tricky and he’s insistent that she ask if his leg needs to be moved instead of manoeuvring it herself. Not that he needed to tell her, she would never dare do anything that could hurt him. She has to sit up on her knees to undo the final buckle at his thigh, and he rests a hand on the top of her head as she does so. The feeling of his hand has another smile jumping its way across her face and she quietly asks him to straighten his leg a little so she can slide the brace off completely. 

“All done.” She whispers when it hits the floor. 

He looks down at her for a moment, his gaze so soft that she feels herself beginning to melt in it, “Thank you.” “Do you, um, need help with anything else?”

The muscles in his jaw tighten again and he goes back to staring at the wall, “Well, yes, but-” he shakes his head, “I can do it myself, you’ve done plenty.” “No. I want to help.” She replies, “Please, let me.” Viktor sighs, “I have a back brace too, I can undo it myself, but it takes some effort.” Though there was no real way for her to have known until now, a painful churning begins in her stomach at the thought of her never noticing, not paying enough attention. She pushes the fury with herself down, something to deal with later and instead gives Viktor what she hopes is a comforting smile, “You might have to guide me through it, is that okay?” He looks relieved, as if he was half expecting her to get cold feet, “That would be fine. Thank you.” He adjusts himself on the bed so he’s facing away from her and slowly starts undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

She sucks in a nervous breath and watches as the fabric slides down his shoulders. There’s a mole on the back of his neck that she wants to kiss so badly she can barely stand it. It’s alarming how much his shoulder blades arch against the papery confines of his skin, the way his posture slopes up to the left, the result of an overcorrection for his limp. She swallows thickly at the sight of his brace, layers of overlapping leather and metal splints that seem directly affixed to his spine. 

Viktor takes a deep breath, she sees his shoulders move, “There are clasps on either side of my spine.” He says, voice quivering. One of his hands reaches behind himself in an attempt to point out one of the clasps for her, “It’s very tight, it will be easier if you start at the top and bottom and then work your way to the middle.” “Alright.” She whispers, trying to conceal the incessant way her heart patters behind her ribs, “Let me know if do something wrong, okay?”

He nods but otherwise doesn’t say anything. It takes her a moment to figure out how the clasp undoes at first, it’s quite a complex piece of machinery and she’s shocked to find that her first assertion was entirely correct. The central portion of the brace is affixed to his spine with a series of bolts the whole way down. Her hands shake as she moves to the same clasp on the opposite side, “How, um, how long have you had this?” she asks weakly. 

“A few years.” She clenches her teeth. How did she never notice? “Just to correct my posture.” He clarifies, sensing her tensing up behind him, “It doesn’t hurt.” 

“But you didn’t tell me.” 

He shrugs a shoulder, “You didn’t need to know.” “I would have liked to.” “Yes, well you know now,” he replies tersely and she immediately regrets pushing the matter. 

He stays silent as she works her way through the rest of the clasps. There’s a window on the wall opposite the bed and the curtains are open just enough for a beam of moonlight to reach in and wrap around the bony protrusion of his shoulder, all the way down the length of his back. She feels lost, caught and tangled up in the sharp angles of him. Her hands continue slowly undoing the brace, but her mind is tumbling and grasping for him before he slips through her fingers. The back of his neck is very pretty, the bumps of his spine that aren't covered by the splints are delicate and heartbreakingly sharp and his breathing is quiet and even for the moment, though she has grown used to hearing it like a chesty wheeze. When she finally undoes the last two clasps in the centre of the brace, he lets out a sigh of relief and when she presses a palm beside his spine, she can feel his heartbeat. Without speaking, he slips his arm through the strap that wraps up and around his left shoulder and her heart aches at the red welts left behind where the brace was pulled tight against his skin, the one on his shoulder is particularly deep and she finds herself leaning in to press a kiss to it before she can even think. Viktor sucks in a breath at the feeling of her lips against him but otherwise makes no acknowledgement of it happening.

“Would you like me to go?” She asks quietly, “You’ll probably just want to sleep now.” He looks at her over his shoulder, eyes wide and vulnerable, “No.” he says quickly, “No- it’s, it’s dark. You shouldn’t walk back alone.” A smile tugs at her lips, “It is dangerous in the hallways of the academy at night, isn't it?”

It isn’t, but the lie is comfortable. 

“It is.” He replies and his smile is a soft, heart-melting curl. After a lapse of almost excruciating silence, he shuffles himself to the side of the bed and stands shakily, resting most of his weight on a dresser in front of him, “Could you turn around a moment?” He asks

It clicks that the dresser must be where he keeps his clothes, “Oh! Yep!” He chuckles, “You can get in the bed if you’d like, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She does as he suggests, facing the wall away from him and crawling in under the covers. It feels strange, the academy bedsheets are exactly the same as the ones in her own room, yet it’s impossible to shake the significance of them being distinctly not hers, “You know I won’t let you do that, right?” she says quietly. 

A drawer opens behind her, and there’s some rustling of fabric, “I’ve slept places far worse than my couch, you even caught me doing so this evening.”

She sighs and pulls the sheets up to her chin, clutching desperately at the fabric, “C’mon, Viktor.” she almost pleads, “It’s just me, I don’t bite.” He scoffs behind her and the bed sinks when he sits on the edge of it. There’s more rustling and she can only assume it's easier for him to change in and out of his trousers when seated, “That isn’t what I'm concerned about.” “Then what are you concerned about?” Viktor goes completely still, she can only hear the sounds of his breathing and she struggles to keep her own breath even as she worries that she may have overstepped. The moment hangs in the air like a pendulum above her and her fingers dig tightly into the blankets. 

“Alright, you win,” Viktor says, and the weight is lifted. He shifts a little, and she feels the blankets lift on his side of the bed as he climbs in. Then she hears a click, and the only light source in the room goes out. 

What are we? She wonders, body stiff and uncomfortable as she lies in the darkness. She’s so close to the edge of the bed that her bent knee hangs off it, too afraid of accidentally touching him because of just how much she wants to. It’s been years of aching and wishing and she’s starting to get the sense that she’s running out of time, that if she doesn't find the right words for what they are, he will be gone before she can express them. She squeezes her eyes shut tight and tries to push the thoughts away, once again forcing herself to believe that Viktor is fine and to ignore all evidence to the contrary. 

Then, she feels Viktor shift on the other side of the mattress and he whispers, “It’s cold tonight, isn't it?” Her heart stops in her chest and she tentatively rolls over to find he’s already facing her. He looks pretty, the light of the moon is eclipsed by the back of his head, leaving him backlit in a soft white light, “Freezing.” she replies, remembering their lie from earlier in the evening. 

“There must be something we can do about that.” he breathes, shuffling in just a little closer. 

She feels like she is about to burst into tears or laughter or something equally immense as she ignores all pretence and all comfortable lies, instead moving straight towards him and wrapping her arms around his chest, tucking her head under his chin. One of his arms slowly slides around her waist to tug her closer against him and his good leg tucks in between both of hers. Something that feels suspiciously like a kiss presses to the top of her head, and as she listens to the gradual calming of his rapid heartbeat she wonders again, what are we?

___

Progress day doesn't go as planned for a lot of reasons. Sitting at the side of the stage, she and Viktor clutch hands the same way they always do. Though maybe a little tighter than normal as they watch Jayce give his first progress day address. She lets out a shocked gasp when Jayce goes off script, deciding not to unveil their newest projects even though the three of them spent so many sleepless nights working on them, even though they drove themselves to exhaustion trying to reach this deadline. Viktor is especially angry about it, seething almost, but everything is thrown into disarray by the attack from the Undercity before they even have a chance to talk it over.

Jayce is their spokesperson, as always, when the three of them are forced to address the council about the theft of one of their gemstones as if it was somehow their fault. They didn’t even have the decency to scrounge up a third chair for her, so she just stands awkwardly beside Viktor and nervously clutches his shoulder. It sometimes feels like the council would forget that she and Viktor even existed if Jayce didn’t keep reminding them. An argument breaks out among the councillors as Jayce begins suggesting a full suspension of Hextech production until the gemstone is located. Viktor also tenses under her hand at the suggestion and while she can understand his reservations, it’s hard for her to disagree with Jayce on this point at least. The last thing they need is someone doing something illegal with their technology, it would be a terrible look, and who knows how many people could get hurt. 

Then, things change so quickly that she can barely keep track. Councilor Medarda levies an attractive offer and before she can even wrap her head around what is taking place, the council issues a vote and suddenly it has eight members. Viktor’s hand shakes when it reaches up to grab her own where it rests on his shoulder, “This won't end well.” he mutters She swallows, filled with an anxious dread that doesn't leave her for the next three days, “Yeah.” She replies, “I have an awful feeling.”

When the two of them return to the lab, the room is filled with a thick and uncomfortable silence. Viktor sits at his desk and clutches his head in his hands, she on the other hand, can’t even bring herself to sit down, instead standing at the only open window in the room and resting her shaking hands on the windowsill. Her stomach twists itself into knots that will take hours to undo, any exhilaration from the the morning is completely gone, only replaced with a churning anxiety. Neither of them speaks until two hours later when Sky drops by, completely unaware of everything that transpired. Viktor explains it to her, his voice weak and exhausted. Sky is a smart girl, she can tell when there isn’t much she can do to help, she promises to let them know if she hears anything about Jayce’s whereabouts, but otherwise says she’ll be in her lab down the hall if they need her. 

With Sky gone, the room once again turns to heavy silence. She swallows and the feeling is thick in her throat, “He must still be with the council.” she says. 

“Yes.” Viktor replies, “He must.”

***

Jayce doesn’t come back that evening. While she’s certain that there is a lot that he needs to learn and probably some sort of extensive paperwork, when she looks over and sees the anxious curl of Viktor’s spine she wishes that Jayce would just tell the council to get fucked and come back to the lab where he belongs. Neither she nor Viktor manage to get any work done, neither of their prototypes are up for production and while there are improvements to be made, Heimerdinger’s insistence that the modifications would take a decade at minimum makes any attempt at progress feel utterly futile. 

Viktor does occasionally pull his pen out and make a few notes, but then he curses under his breath and lets the pen go after just a few minutes. Once she notices the sun has well set through their window and the moon is hanging high in the sky, she lets out a sigh. 

“We’re not going to get anything done, Viktor.” She says quietly, watching as he runs a desperate hand through his hair, “Do you want to get some sleep? Jayce will probably be back in the morning, then we can at least work out what we’re going to do from here.”

“I still don’t understand why he didn’t show the prototypes.” Viktor mutters, “Nothing today has made any sense.” “Yeah.” She replies, “It hasn't.” After a moment, Viktor sighs and grips tightly to his crutch to pull himself up from the chair, “Let’s just go.” he says, and then quieter, as if he doesn’t want her to hear it, “I’m tired.” They don’t talk at all on the walk over to his dorm, both exhausted emotionally and physically. Viktor is struggling to walk more now, she always finds him falling behind even though she is trying her best to keep in step with him, he must notice, even though she purposely doesn’t draw attention to it and she can only imagine how that makes him feel. He stands back as she unlocks the front door and she fondly remembers the morning when she found the spare key lying on his dresser when she woke up. He hadn’t told her that he was getting a copy made, he’d just left it for her when he headed to the lab for the day. It makes sense though, she spends more nights asleep in his bed than she does her own these days, trapped in a tangle of bony limbs that isn't necessarily comfortable but it is profoundly comforting . 

“Do you want tea?” She asks as she steps in through the doorway, holding the door open for him as he follows her inside. 

“No, thank you.” He says, moving to the bedroom and sitting down on the bed, “Help yourself, though.” She follows him into the bedroom, sitting down on the floor and going through the familiar routine of undoing his brace, “You know I was just being polite, I hate tea.” He laughs weakly, leaning back on his elbows as she moves to undo the clasps at his knee, “Don’t worry, it was very polite, thank you.” Her hands are quick now, familiar with each fastening the whole way up his leg, it only takes her a few seconds to have it undone. when she finishes She rests her head on his left thigh, peering up at him. Viktor sighs softly, brushing her hair away from her face. This isn’t a thing that friends do, she recognises, unable to resist leaning into his touch, but it is what they do. The fabric of his slacks is a little scratchy against her cheek and her legs are starting to go numb where they are curled under her, but the moment is so intimate and delicate that she can’t bear letting it shatter. 

“If Jayce isn’t in the lab tomorrow morning, I’ll see if I can find him in the council room,” Viktor says quietly, rubbing gentle circles over her temple with his thumb. 

“I can go instead, " she suggests, “if you want to get some work done in the lab.” “No.” He replies sternly, “I-” he sighs, hanging his head, “I need to talk to him.” “He’ll listen.”

Viktor lets his hand drop from her head, his face awash in painful uncertainty.

She raises herself up on her knees and reaches out to cup his cheek in her hand, “It’s Jayce.” She whispers, confidence proved only a mimicry by the way her voice shakes. Her thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone and her voice is more sincere when she adds, “He always listens.”

***

Whatever conversation Viktor and Jayce have doesn’t seem to help all that much. Jayce does seem apologetic at the very least, but for the next few days, Viktor is decidedly prickly. He sets himself up at one of their workstations and starts wordlessly assembling a new project that neither she nor Jayce has heard anything about until now. While he works, she mostly just sits at her own desk and goes back to trying to fix the issues with the hexclaw with the hopes of getting it to a more finished state before the next investor meeting in a few months. Something has changed in Viktor, she notices. A more pointed determination, something almost dangerously single-minded. He works on his new project all hours of the day and it’s harder than ever for her to pull him away for meals, or to convince him to leave the lab with her in the evenings. 

His cough is getting worse too, worse enough that it’s impossible for her to pretend that everything is fine, no matter how much he tries to convince her that it is just a cold or just allergies or just- 

She catches him once or twice, wiping the blood from his mouth on the back of his hand and she wants to scream or cry or do any number of things to force him to stop acting like everything is still fine. Jayce has noticed too, but he’s so busy with council business now that he only drops into the lab for a few hours a day. 

“I don’t know what to do.” He says, leaning against the wall just outside the lab. 

She leans there with him, not wanting to have this conversation in the same room as Viktor, “Me either.” “He is sleeping, right?” She nods, “Not as much as I’d like, but I'm getting him to bed every night.” “That’s good.” Jayce replies, hanging his head, “I should be in there with the two of you but-” he sighs, “Everyone’s still worried about the attack and that missing gemstone, until that’s sorted I don’t know how much time I’ll be able to spend in the lab.” “I know.” She replies, because she does know, even if the facts make her angry, they are still just the facts. She wrings her hands together and turns to face Jayce, his brows are pulled tight and he’s chewing hard on his bottom lip. 

“Hey, Jayce?” He turns his head to look at her, exhaustion visible under his eyes, “Yeah?” “Do you-” her breath escapes her in a hiccuping sob, “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“Sure he will.” Jayce says, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “If anyone can get himself out of a bind, it’s gonna be Viktor, you know?”

***

She visits her father for dinner the night after. They have a long standing arrangement where she stops by within a week of progress day to debrief him. For the first time though, she spends the whole time just itching to get back to the academy, nervously checking the clock with each passing hour and barely managing to eat any of her dinner. 

Her father laughs, “I know I’m not a proper chef or anything, but my food can’t be that bad, can it?” “No, it’s good, I’m sorry.” She says quietly, pushing her food around the plate with her fork, “Still just discombobulated after-” she waves her hand around vaguely, “You know.” “The attack?” He asks softly. 

“Yeah, the attack.” she lies

“Your friends are alright, aren’t they? The Talis boy and uh-” “Viktor.” She supplies. Suddenly even less interested in eating her dinner. 

The new project Viktor is working on consumes him. He’s started calling it the Hexcore and says that he aims to find out whether or not Hextech can learn , if like she discovered so many years ago, they were missing a fundamental and human component. While all of their current creations resonated at a G4, who’s to say that there aren't other effects that could be unlocked by teaching it how to resonate at another, or by giving it an unlimited combination of runes to cast with? He sits at the workstation for hours, constantly manipulating and twisting the rune matrix around. At all moments the room is filled with the rapid click of plates realigning or the humming of the gemstone within them. The only break comes when he takes a moment to update blueprints or write down new notes. She still managed to get him to bed the past few nights, though it only becomes more difficult each time. With Sky’s help, she’s able to keep him eating, even if it’s little more than a sandwich or one bite of an apple. 

She did tell Viktor that she was going to be out tonight and that she’d likely see him in bed. Sky will be staying late at the academy because she has an assignment due tomorrow morning and she promised to keep an eye on him as best she could. Jayce has a meeting with councillor Medarda (though he called her Mel ) and will try and find time to stop by the lab on his way back just in case. It doesn't matter though, there’s a terrible, awful feeling sitting in the pit of her stomach that she can’t do away with. 

“I should get to meet those boys someday, you know?” Her father says, snapping her back to the present, “I know you’re probably embarrassed about our little house on the fringes, but it cleans up nice!” She laughs weakly, remembering that Jayce and Viktor technically already visited years ago, “Sorry, Dad. We’re all really busy right now, and Viktor-” she bites her lower lip to stop the words from coming out, “He’s tired, we’re all tired.”

“Well, maybe I’ll stop by your lab sometime.” He replies, leaning back in his chair with a warm smile on his face, “You can do experiments on me, I’m tough.”

That gets a proper laugh out of her and she’s grateful for it, “I think we’d all like that.” she says, “You could meet our assistant Sky, too. She does work with plants, which is probably a little more up your alley than our stuff.”

“Speaking of plants, did you see the hydrangea on the doorstep? She’s looking a lot better, isn’t she?”

“Doesn’t look one foot in the grave anymore, at least.” She says and then lets out a sigh, “Look, I’m sorry I still haven't been able to get you a seat in the main hall for progress day. Mrs Talis said you could both share a seat next year if they deny my request again.” Her father barks a laugh, “Good sense of humor, that woman. I like her.” he crosses his arms and a frown pulls his grey eyebrows together, “House Talis isn’t even that large, I don’t understand why she gets a seat every year and I don’t.” She shrugs a shoulder, “They’re still a house, Dad.” He huffs, “You’d think having a daughter who helped build that big whosawhatsit in the sky would count for something.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” She replies with a halfhearted smile. 

“When are you going to get your face on one of those mugs?” He grumbles, “I keep telling my clients that my brilliant daughter is doing all this amazing stuff and none of them ever believe me, but if i had a mug- ” Another laugh bubbles up and out of her, she shakes her head, “Hey, Viktor doesnt have a mug either. We just don’t have the faces for it.” She lies, Viktor has a face that should be carved out of marble, “Plus we’re not exactly socialites, I don’t know what Id do if people started recognising me when I went out for lunch.” Her father leans forward, taking one of her hands in two of his own, “You deserve some recognition though, pumpkin.” he waves his hand, “I guess that Viktor guy does too, but I don’t care about him.” Somewhere amidst her laughter it starts feeling like crying, she sniffles and quickly wipes her eyes, “Be nice to Viktor, he isn’t here to defend himself.” “Maybe i’d care about him more if i got to meet him.” “Okay, okay.” She says with a watery smile, “I’ll see how we’re doing next month, maybe we can find time for you to visit the lab. You just won’t be able to touch anything, alright?” He lifts his hands up in the air, “Fully hands off, no worries, kiddo.”

***

It’s well past midnight when she finally leaves. Despite the sense of urgency burrowing into the marrow of her bones, her father still makes great company and it was difficult to leave him, but as she finally makes her way back to the academy dorms the urgency has begun an evolution into terror. Viktor’s dorm is eerily silent when she opens the door, even when he’s sleeping she can usually hear the rasp of his breath. Her heart beats so wildly in her chest that she can feel it down to her fingers as she rounds the corner and finds no crutch leaning against the wall of his bedroom and not a single disturbance in the perfectly made sheets. 

The bad feeling rises in her like bile. Desperation gnaws as she drops her handbag, grabs her keys and kicks off her shoes before sprinting from the dorms all the way to the lab on the other side of the building. Her breath is ragged in her chest and her heart is racing in a panic that only increases in metre as she runs. The tiles are cold under her bare feet and she is aware that anyone still awake must hear her barreling down the halls, but she couldn't care about anything less. When she finally turns the corner to their hallway, it feels like it stretches and stretches, mocking her as she tries to get to the door, faster faster . Her breath comes out in an aching sob when she finally makes it, hoping and praying to be proved wrong as the door unlocks. 

But the feeling had been right. 

Viktor’s Hexcore still pulses on the workstation, pitch shifting from G4 to A4 like it’s laughing at her, spinning quietly as she crosses the room. Watching. Her heart stops completely when she sees him slumped on the floor, there’s a disconnect between her brain and her legs, she can’t make them move, she just stares and inhales gulp after gulp of air that never seems to satisfy. Her feet shuffle slowly, like she isn’t quite awake, like it might all just be a dream. She drops to her knees and reaches out for him.

“Viktor?” she tries, shaking him by the shoulder, and then again, panicked, “ Viktor?”

He doesn't stir. She inhales a breath through her nose, biting back tears, “Okay. Okay. ” she whispers to herself, trying to calm her breathing despite the aching sobs that still lurk in the back of her throat. When the sounds of her own breath are finally quiet enough, she lowers her head to his chest, pressing her ear to his sternum. A heartbeat. Barely there. Her own heart starts racing again and tears of relief start rushing down her cheeks. He’s still alive, but she has to keep him that way. While he certainly can’t weigh all that much he’s still a lot taller than her and completely unconscious so there is no way she can carry him. 

“Okay.” She says, more to Viktor than to herself, “I’m going to get Jayce.” she hiccups another sob and presses a hand to his cheek, nodding to herself, “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

The academy has a capsule pipeline system to send information between wings. She knows (thanks to Jayce’s complaining about it) that there is also a system that connects directly to each individual counciller room. Most folk can’t get a letter through to them directly, but Jayce left her and Viktor with a couple of special capsules that get immediate access without needing to go through verification first. Just in case. Her handwriting is very messy as she scrawls out two letters, barely a sentence on each. She also writes another one for the hospital, but she knows they’re further away than Jayce is. Her shaky hand smudges the ink and the paper must be covered in tears, it’s hard to see what she’s doing with only the ominous light of the Hexcore for illumination, but she never even considers turning a light on. 

Clutching the capsules she avoids taking another look at Viktor, because she might not be able to leave the room if she does, and runs down to the station that sends and receives capsules for the science department. She sends the one for the hospital first because they have a direct line she doesnt need to input an address for. Then she inputs the address for Jayce’s room, sends the capsule and collapses to her knees beside the machine. It’s loud, when a capsule arrives, at least that’s what Jayce says, loud enough to wake him up. She sits on her knees for what must only be five minutes, but even that feels like an hour. There’s a thunk when a capsule arrives in the tube and she opens it with a panicked vigor. 

It’s the hospital, they’re on their way, but it’s going to be an hour. 

She presses her forehead to the cool wall, gritting her teeth. Jayce should have heard it, she has another capsule just in case he didn’t, but he should have, unless he isn’t in his room. Her eyes snap open and she rises up on her knees, hand shaking as she inputs the address for Councillor Medarda’s room instead and sends the second capsule. 

Sitting there on the floor, clutching her knees up to her chest. She can’t stop thinking about Viktor, how she wishes she could do something instead of just sitting here and waiting. She buries her head in her knees and lets out a wail, not even bothering to keep quiet should someone overhear. If she hadn’t gone out tonight, if she just told her father that she needed to postpone, she could have stopped this. It’s all her fault. Just as she feels a scream building in her chest, there’s another thunk . 

This capsule is from Councillor Medarda’s room. The letter inside is Jayce’s handwriting. 

Coming now. 

___

What are we? She wonders, sitting for the fifth hour beside Viktor’s bed in the hospital. She holds his hand tight, tracing the bumps of his knuckles with her thumb and just waiting . It’s been long enough that the orange light of the morning sun is pouring into the room, trying its best to bring some colour to the sterile white hospital room. She’s so tired after an evening spent crying and screaming and running back and forth that her head leans uncomfortably against the unforgiving wall behind her because she can’t manage to hold it up anymore. Jayce is tired too, but he still has enough energy to argue with the doctors, apparently. She can hear them from across the hall.   

It only took him ten minutes to show up after his letter arrived. She was slumped against the wall of the lab with Viktor’s head in her lap when he came scrambling into the room. She’d cried so much that she could barely even move, completely weak with emotional and physical exhaustion and when Jayce finally came in through the door all she could do was start crying all over again. Jayce tried his best to stay calm, though his breath was heaving after running all the way over and his eyes were watery and panicked. She remembers the way he forced a smile. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He’d said, the wavering in his voice betraying his cool exterior, “We’ll get him to the hospital, c’mon.”

He’d pressed his forehead to hers for just a moment and then lifted Viktor from her lap and into his arms. She barely managed to tell him that the hospital already knew they were coming, all her words came in juts and stutters between hiccuping sobs. Jayce tried to convince her to stay behind, but even with her exhausted body and shaking limbs, it was impossible for him to change her mind. The rest of the night is a blur, lots of sprinting, arguing, crying and waiting, so much fucking waiting . 

She sits up straight when Jayce slams the door open. He has his hand clasped over the lower half of his face and his eyes are wild. She just watches as he crosses the room and all but collapses in the chair beside her. She sniffles and tries to smile, “Didn’t change anything, did it?” Jayce buries his face in his hands and she tentatively wraps the arm that isn’t areadly occupied by Viktor’s hand around his shoulder. He isn’t quite crying, but it sounds like he could start at any moment, “No.” he says gravely, “The results for the second round of tests were the same as the first.” a humourless laugh escapes him, “and they said there’s no point doing a third.” She bites her lower lip to hold back a sob, “You didn’t need to yell at them.” She says quietly, “It’s not their fault.” “I know.” Jayce says, his voice breaking, “I just-” he doesnt finish, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes and sucking a desperate breath in through his teeth “Yeah.” she replies, resting her head on his shoulder, “Me too.”

***

Jayce forces her to go home after four more hours. Promising to stay at the hospital until Viktor wakes up. She tries to argue, but unlike her, Jayce had managed a few hours of sleep the night before while she was running completely on empty. For a moment she considers going back to Viktor’s dorm instead of her own and curling up on his empty bed, but logic settles in when she realises Jayce will need to know where to find her if something happens. So she sleeps alone in her own bed and spends the whole time wishing she was somewhere else. 

Even when laying in the bed and clutching her knees to her chest she can still hear the rush of her heartbeat in her ears. Her chest hurts from so many hours of painful sobbing and her eyes sting whenever she blinks them open. Her dreams are restless and disquieting. Unfamiliar images flash behind her eyelids that make little to no sense, Viktor is in all of them, Jayce is there often, Sky too. The only sound she hears is the ominous humming laugh of the Hexcore, as if it has sequestered itself inside her grey matter. The dreams start and end in rapid fire. Nothing good ever happens. 

She doesn’t have any sense of what the time is when a knock at her door has her waking with a panicked gasp. Sun streams in through her open window, so it must still be at least the late afternoon, but other than that she has no idea. She stumbles to her door, still dressed in her nice blouse and skirt from the evening before but terribly rumpled for all her tossing and turning. It takes a moment for her to unlock the door, her hands don’t seem to want to obey her anymore. 

“He’s awake.” Jayce says in a rush, when the door swings open. 

Her heart jumps back into gear, all aching lethargy suddenly replaced with a jittering anxiety, “We have to go back now!” she says, moving to push past him.

“Wait!” He exclaims, grabbing her by the shoulders before she can start running, “I- I wish i could, but Mel doesn’t even know where I am and-” “Oh.” She says quietly, Jayce looks just as tired as she feels. The Councillor Medarda situation notwithstanding, he needs to rest, she can tell. She lifts up onto her toes and pulls him into a hug, breathing shakily, “It’s okay, I understand.” she buries her face in his shoulder, “Did you at least get to talk to him?”

Jayce returns the hug, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tight, “Yeah, for just under an hour. I know you wanted to see him straight away but,” he laughs a little, “He wanted me to let you sleep.” Her eyes start beading with tears again, at the thought of him asking Jayce to make sure she gets some rest as if he wasn’t the one who almost died the night before. Sucking in a shaky breath, she releases Jayce and gives him a tired smile, “I’ll see you later then, I guess.” 

He nods, “Let me know if you’ll need me. I’ll be in my room all night.”

“Will do.” She replies, stepping past Jayce and closing her door behind her, “We will talk about you and Councillor Medarda later, though. I want details.” Jayce laughs and they both head their separate ways. 

***

Viktor is at least sitting upright when she finally makes it back to his hospital room. His breath is an aching, painful wheeze and despite being open, his eyes seem glassy and inattentive. They do dart to her face when she enters and something like the first inclination of a smile tugs at the very corners of his mouth. She wants to start crying again, to hold him tight and never let go. She doesn't. Instead, she lurks in the doorway, wringing her hands together.

“I hear you saved me.” He says quietly, his accent and the rasp of his voice makes the words difficult to discern. 

She swallows thickly, “I tried to.” Viktor sighs, then. Turning away from her to face the window. The sun's light makes his skin seem less ashen, but the hollows of his cheeks look even deeper, “I take it you were here with Jayce for my diagnosis, then.” “I-” she starts, voice catching on the word, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs bitterly, “Don’t do that to me, don’t apologise.” 

She doesn’t know what to do but apologise. So instead she keeps her mouth shut and forces herself to return to the chair she had been sitting in for all those hours. Wordlessly, she shuffles the chair forward so she can rest her head on the edge of the mattress, peering up at him. She grabs his hand again, holding it tight the same way she had been when he was asleep. 

“I wouldn’t judge you wrongly.” He says quietly, his other hand moving to cup the back of her head, “If you decided to put a stop to-” he closes his eyes and then says the last word like a secret, “-this.” There’s no specification, no clarification. But she knows, she knows what this is, she’s known it for years. This is the only thing she’s ever wanted, this has taken up residence behind her ribs and any removal would have to be surgical. They’d have to rip this from her, out of her and even then she would kick and scream the entire time. This is what they are. 

“I don’t want to.” She breathes.

“Milackú” he whispers achingly. A word she has never heard before, but instantly recognises it as being for her, “I’m dying .”

It hurts to hear him say it, more than when the doctors did. 

“You’ll figure something out.” She says, “I know you will and if- well if you don’t, I-” she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to force back her tears, “I’m still not going anywhere okay? Neither is Jayce, or Sky. Okay? ” she somehow manages to let out a weak little laugh, “and my father wants to meet you, so you have to stick around for a little while.”

Viktor laughs, though it's more of a rasp, “You talked about me?” he asks quietly.

“Always do.” She replies.

It looks like Viktor wants to say something and it looks that way for quite some time. He lets out a shaky breath instead and just keeps looking down at her, whatever words had been dancing on the edge of his tongue are long gone. Usually, she would be curious as to what they were, but at this moment she's just glad to have him, even in silence. It's hard to remember the precise moment when even looking at Viktor became an exercise in restraint, if it was the day they first held hands in the council room, or even before that. She always wants to reach out, to touch, for her skin and his to coalesce into something evangelical.

After some time, she attempts to readjust her head, frowning when she can't manage to find a position that doesn't put a crick in her neck.

“That cannot be comfortable,” Viktor says quietly, rubbing light circles on the back of her head. 

“It isn’t, my neck hurts,” she answers truthfully. He huffs in faux irritation and shuffles himself to the far side of the bed, “Just get in.” he says, “Before you hurt yourself.”

The hospital bed is a lot smaller than the one in his dorm and while the sheets are starchy and uncomfortable, they do smell like him, so she is more than happy to climb in. The single bed leaves them pressed together from collarbone down to knee and the only comfortable place for her head ends up being his chest. He doesn't seem to mind, his arm curls around her and holds her even tighter against him. She wraps an arm around his middle and buries her face in his hospital gown to hide the new tears beading in her eyes. 

“I love this.” She whispers, a close enough approximation, but its utterance feels less dangerous than the truth. 

Viktor kisses the crown of her head, and he breathes, “So do I.”

He falls asleep first, probably less than an hour after she joins him in the bed. First the first time in a long while his breath sounds steady, though it’s probably because he’s still on oxygen. The rhythmic sound of his heart beneath her ear has her biting her lip to keep herself from sobbing, remembering how quiet it had been all those hours ago. How much it hurt to think he had died, how much it hurts still to know that he will . 

She stays awake as the sun begins to set outside the window, once again painting the hospital walls in hues of orange, watching the shafts of light slowly shift with time. This is what they are. It’s not something that can so easily be named, it’s a feeling, a sob building up behind her ribs, his arm around her and the aching dread of something terrible on the horizon. She feels inseparable from him, a very real sense that if he were to die, she would be soon to follow. It takes another hour for her to fall asleep, hand clutched tight to the bedsheets at Viktor’s waist, leg tucked over the top of his own. She isn’t going anywhere, the universe itself couldn’t make her. 

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

questioning npd culture is oh my GOD i need people to shut the fuck up about teens in npd / cluster b communities.

if you are a teen who is diagnosed with npd and find it perfectly describes all your symptoms you are valid. end of story.

if you are a teen who is questioning having npd and doesn’t have access / does not feel comfortable with an official diagnosis i would wait till adulthood to formerly self-dx, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with labeling yourself as questioning npd.

yes, teens are hormonal. yes, teens have neuroplasticity. but if they portray patterns of symptoms pervasive enough that they can absolutely be attributed to npd, there is nothing normal about that. it is in no way typical teenager behavior to have all of the same symptoms and issues as a personality disorder.

also, i feel a lot of people forget that npd commonly starts to develop in the teen years. though cluster b disorders are still horribly stigmatized, more awareness is being spread about them, and if a teen does intense research and finds that yes, this is something they perfectly identify with, it’s not just giving yourself a label for a sake of a fun label. in fact, most teenagers would not want to label themselves as a narcissist considering the negative connotations with it.

so, anyways, tl:dr;

leave these poor kids alone. you cannot define somebody’s experience by considering them to not be “valid” enough. though i would absolutely hesitate to officially self-dx yourself before adulthood in case of your symptoms genuinely being growing pains, identifying with a disorder is not normal. the symptoms of npd are not something most people would even want to connect to themselves, and a teen doing intense research and finding that there is a very real possibility of them having npd should not be a trivial manner you can label as “kid things.”

and yes, of course, there is always going to be a few people saying they have a thing for the hell of it. there’s plenty of chronically online teens who want to be the most oppressed person in the room for internet points. yet if it’s clear this is not the person’s intention, there is no need to belittle their experience. it’s literally common for npd to form in the teenage years. leave people alone. the end. don’t be an asshole.

.

[rwuffles]

How & Why to add Plain Text to your Coining Posts!

[PT: How and why to add plain text to your coining posts. END PT.]

What is plain text?

Plain text is just text without any outside formatting (i.e. bold, italics, big, etc.) that's added to posts that have them.

Why do posts need plain text?

A lot of the time, it's for people who are visually impaired and/or who have any vision issues! Bolded or italics may be harder to read, big text might be worse for some people instead of better, and colored text could mess with a person's eyes (like me!) for some examples. At the end of the day, it's for accessibility!

Okay, how do I do plain text?

There's a few different ways you can write the plain text itself, and really, how you do it is up to you.

[PT: Text. END PT.]

[pt: text. end pt.]

PT: Text. END PT.

pt: text. end pt.

Those are just a few of the most common ways we see people write them; essentially, the core components are "PT" (to indicate a start of a plain text) and "END PT" (to indicate the end). As for the plain text itself, it should be the exact same thing but with proper grammar/vocabulary (other than capitalization, if you prefer all lowercase). Some examples are:

hallo!!! how r u doing today :333 -> PT: Hallo! How are you doing today? :3 [cat emoticon]. END PT.

vi'm doing good, how about kyu? -> [PT: Vi'm [I'm] doing good, how about you? END PT.]

th4t's g00d! h4v3 y0u n0t1c3d th4t 0ur tqs 4r3 ch4ng1ng 3v3ry m3ss4g3? -> pt: that's good! have you noticed that our tqs [typing quirks] are changing every message? end pt.

why ywes, the fictional character has! h♡ believes that the op of this post is a dork -> [pt: why yes, [i have]! h[heart] believes that the [original poster] of this post is a dork. end pt.]

Personally, if something needs to be changed in a plain text—that being an acronym, pronoun, or something else—I flip-flop between adding it next to it in brackets or parenthesis or just straight up replacing it in brackets. Either or works!

Where should I put plain text?

It depends on the text you're making plain, if that makes sense. For example: if it's something unreadable (i.e. replacing letters with numbers), then you're gonna want the plain text before the actual text. On the other hand, if it is readable—at least to screenreaders—you should put the plain text right below the text itself. Some people like to put all of the plain text at the end of their posts, too; the only thing you're going to want to stay away from is putting it under the cut! This is because if you change your URL (I believe) or deactivate your blog, anything under the cut is no longer accessible and therefore your post no longer has a plain text.

But, plain texts don't fit my post's aesthetic/make my posts look more cluttered!

Have you considered that, in that case, it isn't the plain text's fault? If your post has so many things that need separate plain texts that it ends up just making your post look bad, then I don't think that the plain text is to blame; having a million different things of text colored and bolded and using fancy fonts is just unnecessary. I like to think that my posts are fairly aesthetic, albeit a bit simple.

Could we get a boost for this post? (not forced!) @radiomogai @the-astropaws @local-maneater @hysangel @rabidbatboy @vampitsm @icwdtea @smilepilled @pupcoins

[muffinpink02]

Your brain is something else 🥵

All I can think about is alexia then pulling her hand away to lick her fingers for even easier access and as it slides back down, reader just looks her in the eyes and quietly says “baby, you didn’t need to lick your fingers”. Alexia soon realises readers dripping wet for her 🫠

That’s hot 🥵 your brain is something else!

“You’re soaked, baby. You’re going to get my leather seat messy.” She smirks playfully at you.

You watch as she moves her hand away from your thighs, brining her wet digits to her mouth. You whimper as she glides her tongue over and around her long fingers. Your eyes follow the way her lips wrap around her long fingers, greedily sucking your sticky fluids along the base of her tongue.

She closes her eyes, humming in delight at the taste of you.

“You’re so fucking tasty, amor.”

Your eyes flutter close as you feel her go back for seconds.