#taking that person and giving them back broken

[highvern]

Beggin' On My Knees

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, hint of angst, established relationship, biker! hoshi

warnings: pregnancy, impreg/breeding kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, praise kink, body worship, spitting, praise kink

Length: ~8k

Note: inspired by the Please, Please, Please MV. this was originally an idea for taehyung but alas my top freak took over again. something about biker/mechanic hoshi really is beautiful thank u @tomodachiii @haologram and @gyuswhore for keeping me sane

summary: After another run in with the law, you come to terms with the fact your friends might be right about your fiancé.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Even at your age, it’s somehow more embarrassing to buy pregnancy tests than condoms. You wouldn’t know since you’ve never bought condoms. That particular responsibility falls exclusively on your fiance after the few times in college when you snagged handfuls from the bucket inside the campus clinic.

You’ve bought a pregnancy test before. Not for yourself but for friends too embarrassed to walk into the pharmacy and publicly declare how active their sex lives were. Now you understand why they wanted someone else to do it. Why are there twenty different brands? Why do they require some high school employee to unlock the case so you can pick the one you want? Why are they so damn expensive? The anxiety you feel rivals the first time you bought weed sophomore year of college from some sleazy frat boy.

You’ve got the box resting on the bathroom counter, a timer on your phone, and the test just out of sight while you pace back and forth in the small space. The door is shut for no other reason than to isolate away from Soonyoung in the event he gets off work early.

You should call Soonyoung. He’d want to know, fight the urge to say something stupid like “I’ll try harder next time” when the tests come back negative and instead offer to pee on one in solidarity if only to lighten the mood.

You never understood when people say a woman just knows until right now because with each passing second the reality that those tests are going to be positive sink in. Despite the fact you and Soonyoung almost always use a condom and the times without them end with him coming anywhere not inside you. You just know it.

Each second ticks down like a bomb waiting to detonate.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your stomach twists.  Surprisingly, you don’t dread it as much as you would have a year ago. But a million things a baby entails rush over you. Cleaning out the spare room upstairs, doctors appointments, daycare, clothes, school. Do you even know how to actually take care of a kid? One that belongs to you, who you can’t give back to their person when they get fussy or hurt.

Soonyoung was born to be a dad. He never hid how badly he wanted a family of his own, a family with you. He’s good with kids too. You’ve seen him with his nieces and nephews, your friends’ kids. The middle schoolers in your neighborhood come to him with broken bikes and scooters to be fixed, knock on your front door to ask if he can help them get their ball down from some tree. Even if he doesn't know what he’s doing he’d be there by your side.

As the initial shock washes away, the knots in your chest slowly unfurl. You can do this. Even though you planned your life down to the last detail, Soonyoung has a way of sweeping you into his tide. Engagement, marriage, house, babies. In that order. You’ve already got the house before he asked you to marry him and your wedding is only a month away. 

After the worst of the panic settles into restless jitters, you leave the solitude of the bathroom. Soonyoung still isn’t home from work yet but it isn’t unusual. He’s been pulling more hours, shouldering more responsibilities since Mr. Lee, the owner, hinted at a promotion. Glancing at the clock, you guess he’ll walk through the door in two hours which gives you plenty of time to put together something to surprise him.

After a long shower, you burn time by cleaning up non-existent messes; you can’t sit still. The ‘surprise’ ends up being lackluster. Your weekly grocery shopping trip is tomorrow so the fridge is slim pickings for dinner and you make the executive decision to go out once Soonyoung is home. Some fancy restaurant neither of you can afford with tiny dishes designed to leave you hungry and stopping at the diner at the edge of town for a burger. 

While the noise from the TV hums in the background, you scroll through internet searches on what to do when expecting. Doctors appointments, blood tests, advice on budgeting. It’s information overload but you’re giddy even with the stress.. Then you see it. A screenshot from one of your friends. No words, just a photo. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The longer you stare the quicker the realization becomes a reality. Soonyoung, your Soonyoung, the Soonyoung you’ve been waiting to get home, the reason for three positive pregnancy tests still on the bathroom counter, stares back. Or his mugshot does. A proud stain on the town jail’s website for everyone to see.

Storming out of the house, you notice Jeonghan’s car is gone from his own driveway. Hopefully he’s given your fiance an earful at the station already. If not, you’ve got plenty to say.

Whatever giddy happiness possessed you earlier is long gone, rotten disgust taking its place. How stupid do you look waiting for him at home while he’s gone and gotten himself locked up?

That stupid bike.

It isn’t the first time. That was the initial appeal back when you were a doe eyed freshman, finally out from under your parents thumb with more freedom than you knew how to handle. Soonyoung was the stereotypical bad boy with a taste for fast cars, working in a garage to your good girl persona who set the curve in all her classes. A few drinks at a run down dive bar landed you on his bike in some back alley, a hand under your skirt while he whispered the nastiest things you’ve ever heard. Then you returned the favor back at his apartment, riding him with enough vigor the headboard slapping against the wall sent his neighbors into a fit.

Then came the routine of Soonyoung picking you up from your dorms late at night, staying out until sunrise doing who knows what. He showed you off at street races, called you his girl in front of friends, and would take you out to the lake after winning a race and make you feel like a winner too. 

It was fun. 

Until the calls he’d been out street racing again wore down your patience as your friends’ giddy curiosity turned to embarrassment and ‘I told you so’s. It wasn’t enough to break your heart, but it tore your ego to shreds. They called him a loser and you defended him time and time again because you loved him. Because he promised it wouldn’t happen again.

He promised the last time was the last time. The time before that was also the last time and the time before and so on. 

The parking lot of the police station is nearly empty this time of day; a few police cars and a handful of other vehicles. Otherwise, it sits deserted. 

Jeognhan is waiting for you at the front desk, pretending to type away at something on the computer but you know better. You’ve done this song and dance too many times. 

“What the fuck did he do this time?” 

He quirks an eyebrow, sliding a clipboard with the usual paperwork your way as he speaks. “What do you think?” 

You nearly rip through the paper from pressing the pen so hard as you sign. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

“Ma’am, language,” a young officer warns.

You’ve never seen him before and the stern look on his face pisses you off even more. His eyes widen in what must be fear because he scrambles back to the filing cabinet at the back of the room without speaking. “I didn’t know you had a new bitch, Han.” 

Jeonghan takes his clipboard back before you can whack him with it. “Nope, that's still your fiancé. Chan, go get Soonyoung from the box.” 

“Tell him I’ve got a hammer in the car for his balls,” you call. 

“Please refrain from making threats inside the police station.”

Soonyoung has the sense to look afraid when he rounds the corner. He’s still in his work clothes, oil stained shirt and dirty coveralls, hair matted to his forehead. You can only imagine what he sees. Last time you picked up he’d still been drunk from a bar fight and you made him sleep on the porch with Jeonghan’s engine as an alarm clock. You’d been too tired to make threats, half asleep the entire time. This time, you feel on the verge of crying, throwing up, and exploding into a fiery rage.

You don’t wait for him while Jeonghan hands over the bag of Soonyoung’s belongings. Halfway to the car, he races to catch up without a word and goes as far as rushing ahead to open the driver's door for you. There’s a fraction of a second you contemplate speeding off before he can get into the passenger seat, let him walk home in the dark as punishment for being a dumbass. But you don’t. You want to yell at him for being a dumbass until your throat bleeds.

The car smells like motor oil and sweat with him so close in the passenger seat. You gag at the stench, rolling all the windows down to avoid vomiting. The last thing you want right now is to need him.

Under usual circumstances the silence hanging heavy in the air would be comfortable, familiar and warm with the golden hue of the sunset and the sound of cicadas not far off. The world holds its breath, but you don’t.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out you got arrested from someone sending me your mugshot?” you ask at the first red light. Soonyoung tries to answer but you cut him off. “No, you don’t. Because I’d never put you in that position.”

He grumbles out the window. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re better than me.”

“You think I’m pissed because I think I’m better than you? I’m pissed because you act like a fucking loser. I’m pissed because you’re a liar! You promised me you wouldn’t do this dumb shit anymore. YOU PROMISED ME. And I look like an idiot because I’m stupid enough to trust you.”

You wait for an excuse. Some honeyed platitude about how much he loves you and it being a mistake and how it’ll never happen again but Soonyoung offers nothing. 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks.

You scoff. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Clearly!” you shriek, the vein in your neck throbbing. “Do you know how it feels to have my friends send me your mugshot? I’m at home tearing my hair out and you’re street racing some kid for kicks.”

“He wasn’t a kid—” 

“I don’t give a fuck!” The edges of your vision scorch red, teeth gnashing. You’ve never been this angry with him. You’ve never been this angry, period. “Grow up!”

He’s lucky Jeonghan caught him and not one of the other officers hell bent on cleaning up the streets. He’s lucky you didn’t have to front bail money neither of you have, especially now. Instead of spending the weekend in jail, Soonyoung’s punishment is fixing whatever Jeonghan sends his way for the next month free of charge but it’s not enough, not even close.

The kill shot bubbles on the tip of your tongue but that last bit of self control keeps it under lock and key. This isn’t how you thought you’d tell him, nowhere close to the way the evening happened in your head before you saw that picture. You wanted to surprise him. Watch the way the news sunk in slowly then all at once. You remember the test you left on the kitchen counter for him to find when he got home before everything went to shit. The ember of rage flairs back to life.

“You wanna race so bad, go fetch!” You don’t think as you rip the keys to that cursed bike from his hands and chuck them out the window into the grassy median, gone in a flash. It’s only a temporary solution but it feels good. It’s the next best thing to taking a bat to his bike until there’s nothing salvageable.

Soonyoung sputters. “Are you crazy?” 

Maybe. You’re absolutely toeing the line of unhinged. The car skids to a stop, tires burning against the asphalt. Thankfully the road is clear of any traffic.

“Get out,” you demand.

“What?”

“Get out. Get out, get out, get out!” You repeat the words over and over until he does what you tell him to. You feel the suffocating tightness in your chest signaling tears are seconds away. 

“Baby, let's talk about this,” Soonyoung begs. He tries to reach through the window, he knows your weak spots too well. You snatch your hand away before he can take advantage.

“You can have this back!” You launch the diamond band right at his chest before taking off.

You get back home on autopilot. There are red lights and stop signs and other traffic laws you can’t remember if you followed but you’re in the driveway and barreling up the porch with shaky breaths. Guilt doesn’t cross your mind for a second. Soonyoung didn’t feel guilty for racing like a dumbass until he got caught, so why should you feel guilty for letting him deal with the consequences? 

The urge to do something mean, not just mean but hurtful with the intent of seeing Soonyoung sick to his stomach, rears its head. If that’s what you wanted then mission accomplished. He saved for a year to buy that ring and you threw it in his face like it was nothing but cheap plastic. The ire from earlier rushes out of you like a deflating balloon. Your fingers itch for a cigarette but unlike your now ex fiance, you have to cut out all your vices. There’s no relief in pacing back and forth. There won’t be any solace inside the house either. You’re so tired. All the highs and lows of the day have drained you of everything. You don’t want to be mad or sad or anything anymore. You just want to go to bed and sleep off the entire day. 

You want to leave but you don’t. You want to yell some more but Soonyoung will be at least another hour. There’s nothing to anxiously clean while waiting so you water the crispy plants on the porch while you wait.

Jeonghan’s cruiser pulls into his driveway across the street thirty minutes later. Still no sign of Soonyoung, not a missed call or text. You think to worry but he gets out of Jeonghan’s passenger seat and trudges your way.

He looks angry and tired. But your swollen eyes and splotchy face melts the furrow in his brows.

“I’m—”

You silence him with a blast from the water hose. Soonyoung takes his punishment like a man, standing completely still while you douse him from head to toe. 

“I deserve that. Please, just listen to me—” He’s silent with another stream aimed at his chest. You feel some validation seeing him embody the way you feel: pathetic. 

“Will you put the hose down so we can talk about this?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huff, dropping the hose for him to clean up.

“Then I’ll talk and you listen.”

“No.” You head towards the door with no intention of letting Soonyoung inside. “Go sleep at Jeonghan’s, I don’t wanna be around you right now.”

“He already told me no.”

Jeonghan would take mercy on Soonyoung in this state; soaked to the bone with your engagement ring in his pocket.

You turn to face him. “I want you to get rid of your bike.”

Soonyoung stays at the foot of the stairs leading up the porch. He knows how you feel and he has the sense to look ashamed.

“You want me to sell Tammy?” he asks.

“I want Tammy to fall off a cliff into the abyss but that’s obviously not going to happen,” you seethe, blinking away more frustrated tears.

“I have a lot of good memories with Tammy.”

“What? The first time you got arrested? Or the time you fell off and broke your arm? Oh, I know! When you ended up in a ditch?”

“The time I asked you to be my girlfriend. And the time I won enough money to help put a down payment on the house. When—“

“It’s me or her.”

Does it feel juvenile giving your fiance an ultimatum between you and a godforsaken bike? Absolutely. But you’ve got a kid to think about now and the thought of Soonyoung missing their life because he’s too busy chasing the rush makes you sick.

“It’s you.” Soonyoung says it with finality but you don’t believe him.

“Then prove it.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Sell it. First thing tomorrow morning.”

He laughs bitterly. “I’m not selling my bike.”

“Then I’ll be sure to tell your kid their dad is a fucking loser.” 

He blinks like the words don’t fully set in but your back is already to him by the time they do. Locked inside the house, you lean back against the door. You don’t want him to hear the crack of breath in your throat breaking into hot, wet tears. 

“What do you mean my kid?” Soonyoung’s panicked voice comes through the door. “YN! Open the door!”

“Go away.”

His whispered curses slip through the door while he scrambles for the spare key hidden in the potted plant by the door. If you really wanted him locked out, you would’ve remembered to move it before he got home. Part of you does want him stuck as far away as possible. You don’t want to face him because you know he’ll kiss your tears away and that’s all you want right now. You want him to hold you, promise you everything will be okay.

The lock of the bedroom door clicks into place right as Soonyoung gets the front door open. You hear him downstairs, looking for where you’re hidden. You can plot his course in your head: straight through the living into the kitchen where one of the positive tests waits to greet him on the counter, then he comes racing up the stairs and outside the door.

He twists the doorknob with no success. “YN.”

“Go away,” you sniffle into the pillow. His pillow. You’re on his side of the bed, in one of his old shirts because even if you wish you hated him.  

A dull thud against the door and a sigh signals his departure. You hear him shuffling back downstairs, but the sound of the front door never comes. The fatigue of the day takes over swiftly. Surrounded by the comforting smell of Soonyoung, you fall asleep until the smell of food wafts up through the vents. Not burnt but if Soonyoung is in the kitchen then it’s only a matter of time.

You creep down the stairs, careful to stay quiet so you can sneak back up without getting caught. Soonyoung’s body blocks whatever he’s organizing on the counter but you tell it’s a bribe from the sight of take out bags piled in the trash.

“What’s that?”

“Dinner. Do you want some?”

He’s got an entire pizza with garlic knots and cinnamon twists laid out like a feast. You watch him pretend to be nonchalant but he’s glued to your every move as you approach the counter and shove an entire garlic knot into your mouth, chewing with enough force to warn you haven’t forgiven him yet even though you're close to it. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Then we won’t talk,” he sighs into the base of your skull, fingers edging beneath your shirt for the comforting warmth of skin on skin. 

“Don’t,” you say, but lean back into the warmth of his body despite yourself.

“I’m sorry.”

Sure he is. You know he means it. Soonyoung is always sorry but it doesn’t stop him from being a dumbass. But he’s your dumbass no matter how many fights you have.

He lets you eat, content to hide his face in your shoulder and his fingers warm against the waistband of your sweatpants. You hate crying and you hate crying in front of him – because of him – even more. The heavy silence of the kitchen and the love of your life clinging onto you like his life depends on it brings a fresh prick of tears. Once you start, you can’t stop. The tears keep coming as Soonyong maneuvers your face into his chest. His new, clean shirt turns into your tissue. You fall into him without hesitation.

“Are you really…” he asks quietly, dropping kiss after kiss against your hair while you wring out like a sponge. 

“Do you think I’d lie to make you feel bad?”

“No. I just—fuck. You’re pregnant.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“How do you feel?”

You blow your nose into his neck. “Like I wanna punch my kid’s dad in the nuts.”

“He probably deserves that.”

“He definitely does.”

“And he deserves to sleep outside.”

“Yep,” you nod.

“But you still love him?”

“Of course I do, you big idiot,” you sigh, leaning back to look at him. Mistake. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” His brow presses to yours, face rounded out, soft cheeks that make you want to scream. Brown eyes shine beneath his lashes. Soonyoung knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t but things would be a lot easier if you did.

Soonyoung takes the silence as an admission, and when you don’t object he falls to his knees, pulls your shirt out of the way and presses his face into your stomach. “We should name it Donatello.”

“No.”

“Leonardo.”

“No,” you giggle despite yourself.

“Raphael.”

“You are not naming our baby after a Ninja Turtle.”

“Mojo Jojo Jojo.”

“No.”

“Thanos.”

“Stop!”

“You’re laughing?” Soonyoung gasps, rushing to his feet to pin your squirmy body between him and the counter’s edge. “I’m trying to have a very serious conversation and you’re laughing?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you love me.”

You nod, hiding back into his chest where it’s safe. “Yeah, I love you.”

The silence marinates between you. 

“I’ll sell the bike, promise.”

“You’re not the best at keeping promises.”

“This time is different.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want our kid to grow up thinking their dad doesn’t worship the ground their mom walks on. Because I know she’s way too good for me and I’m lucky to have her.”

“I’m not too good for you, I hate when you say that.”

“You called me a loser.”

“I said you acted like a loser and I won’t take that back.” 

He looks away. “That’s fair.”

The icy wall of hurt freezes back up but you’re too tired to drag on the fight any longer. “When I found out my reaction wasn’t ’oh he’s being stupid.’ It was ‘how would I tell our kid their dad missed their birthday because he got himself locked up.’ That’s all I could think about. Explaining to our kid over and over why you’re never there.”

The words rest like a wet blanket over his flame of excitement. He doesn’t want to be that kind of dad; the one who misses their child’s life for something as stupid as street racing. Who leaves you to pick up a broken heart time and time again, two broken hearts.

You’re at arms length, Soonyoung examining you like a puzzle he can’t figure out but wants to try anyway. You hate when he looks at you like that. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen and he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Shut up.” You hide the blush staining across your cheeks with another slice of pizza. 

“You are.”

“Well,” you swallow. “I need you to be a good dad. And if you can’t then I’m not afraid to do it by myself.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Can I talk to it?”

“If you want to.” You don’t tell him that the thing growing in your womb curiously of him is the size of a pea and doesn’t have a face, let alone ears. You want to hear what his first words as a dad are.

He rucks your shirt up higher until it’s bunched beneath your breast, stomach on full display for him to bury his face into. 

“Hi. I’m your dad,” he starts timidly. You bite back a smile at his earnestness. “I don’t usually make your mom this angry. Usually, she’s pretty happy with me.” His lips brush your stomach with each word, tickling them into your skin. “I hope you take after her. She’s smart, and she’s pretty. God, she’s so pretty. I remember the first time I saw your mom and I knew I wanted to marry her.”

You snort. “You did not.”

“Yes, I did,” he corrects. “We were at this bar. You’re not allowed to go there. Ever. Maybe when you’re thirty or I’m dead. But I remember seeing her when she walked in and I thought ‘that is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and if she talks to me, I’ll throw up.’ I still feel like that sometimes. Even when she’s mad at me. And then when I got the courage to talk to her, I didn’t throw up because your old man is cool.”

Your heart swells too big for your chest. The night you met him wasn’t the stuff of fairytales. You saw him across the bar, all blonde hair and ruby cheeks as he screamed with his friends. He did throw up the first time you talked to him. After an hour of riding him until it hurt, you melted boneless in his lap and he snuck away to the bathroom to toss the used condom. You faked asleep as he emptied his guts into the toilet bowl before crawling back to bed and begging for cuddles. Pure romance.

“So cool,” you tease.

Soonyoung laces your fingers together, nipping at your fingertips in protest. “Your mom is mean to me but it’s okay because I love her. You’ll love her too. I just hope you’ll love me.”

You fight the urge to cry, only a single tear streaking down your cheek before stopping. “They’ll love you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

“How?”

“Because I love you and I’m very smart. Remember?”

“I did say that, didn't I?”

You hum in agreement, pulling him up your body to nudge his nose along yours. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” You let him shower you in gentle touches, his hands smoothing up your sides. Soonyoung traps you between his body and the counter, his lips sweeping over your chin, your jaw, your covered chest. That’s when you feel it. “What are you doing?”

“Apologizing.”

“Feels a lot like your penis to me.”

“That’s a part of the apology,” he whispers, the weight of his cocky heavy against your thigh, harder with each controlled grind. “Can’t believe I knocked you up and I never even came inside of you.”

“I can. You talk about kids so much I bet you manifested this.”

“You want it though, right?”

“Yeah.”

You’re lifted onto the countertop, legs spread around his hips. He’s got one hand wedge between your ass and panties to keep you close. “Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”

Not the conversation you thought would happen while you’re tugging his shirt off and working at the tie in his pajamas pants but you humor him.

“I think you’ll be a great dad.” You kiss him gently. His lips, his nose, his cheeks that round in your favorite smile. “If you stop getting arrested. How are you gonna ground Michaelangelo if you keep getting in trouble too?”

“She’s gonna be too smart for that. Just like her mom.”

“Oh, it’s a she now?”

“I’ve got a feeling.” He nips at your throat, a sweet flick of his tongue to soothe the sting. “Back to me coming inside you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Gonna take it all for me?”

Your chin tips back to provide more skin for Soonyoung to mark up. “Want it.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he heaves. You’re trapped between a hand against the crotch of your panties and one pawing at your ass like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“Take your pants off.”

An amused breath warms your throat. “Someone’s bossy”

“Yeah, and I’m telling you to take your pants off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Shirt gone, sweats pooled around his ankles, Soonyoung stands in nothing but a pair of tenting briefs and the thin chain you gifted him a week after he placed that band on your ring finger.

“Wow, who knew you'd be such a DILF.”

His cheeks tinged pink from the complement. “I’ve been a dad for five minutes and you’re already trying to hit on me.”

“We’re engaged, doofus.”

“Speaking of.” He snatches his pants off the floor, digging through the pockets until a familiar ring appears. “Don’t take this off again.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

He catches your chin between his fingers, pining you in his gaze. “I don’t care how angry you are with me. When I asked you to marry me, I meant forever.”

You can count on one hand the number of times he’s used that tone of voice with you. Soonyoung doesn't get angry often; at least, not with you. The last time he talked to you like this was when you wandered on the wrong side of town late at night, alone and drunk without a way home. You were pissed about a grade and wanted to do something reckless like every other kid at your university got to. Luckily, Soonyoung found you before trouble could. He used the same tone to chastise you for an hour about how stupid you’d been. 

But he isn’t just mad at your antics. He’s scared too. You look at him — really look at him for the first time since this morning when you kissed him goodbye before work. Red eyes, lip bruised, not from kisses but the way he chews it when he’s anxious.

“I’m sorry.” You pull him back, arms wrapped so tightly around his torso he probably can’t breathe and you both like the certainty of it. The tension in his shoulders softens like candle wax but he doesn’t let go. 

There’s still the matter of damp underwear and his boner. You want him, the gnawing aching way you always want him. Between your legs, stroking your sensitive spots to life over and over again until you beg for mercy he’s too eager to deny.

You nose against his cheek, adoring kiss after kiss against his skin until mouths meet. Soonyoung slips his tongue between the seam of your lips. You feel it the way down to your toes. On instinct, your hand trickles down his front, wedged tight between your bodies to paw at the fabric. A few dry jerks is all it takes for him to unravel.

“Wait,” Soonyoung gasps, hips rutting into the tight squeeze.

He keens with another tug, neck flushing a pretty shade of pink. The linoleum bites into your knees before you mouth over his underwear for a taste of what's to come. You suck the head through his underwear before leaning back to tease him with a kiss.

“Bedroom.”

“Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d refuse a kitchen blowjob,” you snicker.

Soonyoung doesn’t laugh. He pulls you back up into a bruising kiss, biting at your lip until you’re sure it’s bruised. His hand gropes down your ass, fingers tight to your entrance from behind. Whatever he wants like this you’ll agree to.

“Want you on my mouth.”

You’d kneel over his face right here on the kitchen floor if he wanted. But knowing your fiance, his sights are glued to whatever fantasies boil beneath that blond hair of his. 

You race up the stairs, Soonyoung hands heavy on your sides. His thumbs press into the bare curve of your hips. Your clothes fall until just your underwear remains. You want to turn around and mount him on the steps but the second floor landing is close enough you don’t get a chance. 

Soonyoung flicks all the bedroom lights on, eager to see every part of you as you crawl up the bed on all fours in nothing but your underwear. A few years ago you wouldn’t dream of sex with a lamp on let alone the overhead light but years of his utter devotion to your body and wanting to watch you get off like it’s his very own miracle gave you confidence. He looks ready to jump out of his own skin at the doorway. You glance over back and arch your spine a little more, ass higher in the air for his viewing. You might just finger yourself like this to see him suffer. You’ve done it before.

You stretch out, naked chest on display. “Are you coming?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.” Unconsciously, he palms his cock and approaches the side of the bed, pulling you into a kiss with a heavy lick of his tongue.

It doesn’t take much to drag him on top of you, dick hot to your thigh, perfect to rut against. There’s too much Soonyoung to think of anything else. His hands pinning you in place, his breath fanning across your chest as he suckles across the slope of your breast, thighs surging between yours in a dry hump you can’t help but beg for more of. His hips stutter when you do.

He follows the same playbook you did earlier; fingers trailing to the wet patch of your wants, mouth following closely. You’re in for a treat when he’s on his knees like this. He wants to tease you the way you did him but Soonyoung isn’t committed to denying you anything, he wants to rake you over hot coals by giving too much. 

Your hands eagerly hook beneath your knees, legs spread wide before him like a feast..

“Taste so good,” he rasps with a soft suck at your clit. “You’re so hot.”

Even with the barrier of your underwear each lick lights you on fire. Soonyoung moans a lewd melody, lost in his own paradise. Your thighs twitch with each gentle prod at your entrance, folded away by his shoulders so he can touch as much as he wants.

The promise from earlier lights up your brain. You twist a tight grip in his hair, pulling hard enough to detach him from your body. Lips wet, eyes blown, Soonyoung tries to dive back down until another twist of your nails makes him wince.

“Call Jeonghan.”

His mouth may be gone but his fingers circle your clit in the way that makes you whine. “What?”

“Call. Him,” you command. 

You snatch your phone from the end table, forcing it into Soonyoung’s grasp. He still doesn’t understand what you’ve asked.

“Sell him the bike right now.”

“Now?” He looks down at your pussy still on display, underwear soaked in spit and arousal.

You nod. Soonyoung knows better than to argue. He’s back in your good graces but only just, the promise of shipping that infernal bike off to someone else keeping him afloat. 

Your body throbs for release, for his mouth to go back to work instead of whispering into the phone when Jeonghan answers. 

“Two grand? Bullshit! There's at least…” he trails off.

You’re not going to stop just because he’s busy. You grab your breasts, taunt nipples visible between your fingers. Clad in a pair of sticky panties and nothing else, you’ve reduced him into a stuttering mess. Any other night he’d already be smothering himself in the wetness. You can see the urge in his gaze as he swallows loudly.

“Four,” Soonyoung counters. His face twists between wanting to argue with the neighbor, brows furrowed, lips in a heavy pout, and watch in awe as you suck on your own fingers before pinching at your chest again.

You’ve got him distracted with a hand between your legs, pushing your underwear out of the way to flash him exactly what he’s earning. Flushed and wet, the smell of sex hangs in the air.

“Thirty-five,” his voice cracks as you spread your legs wider, pulling his hand right where it belongs.

Soonyoung bats your hands away, fingers twisting through your heat. A gentle prod at your entrance like he hasn’t mastered your pussy enough to make you stupid and strung out with a few touches. There’s no way Jeonghan can’t hear every pleased sigh, the wet noise echoing from your pussy, the annoyance in Soonyoung’s voice as they barter back and forth. 

Soonyoung leans over and spits where his fingers disappear, making you jolt with the force as he does it again. You nearly ask him to spit in your mouth just to see his eyes bulge but the opportunity disappears with the sound of Jeonghan’s cackle through the line.

“Fine, three. I’ll give you the keys tomorrow.” He ends the call, forces your hand out of the way, and eagerly makes up for the minutes lost.

Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically only to be welcomed with a grunt. The rip of fabric registers right before what was once your underwear is left stretched across the middle of your thigh. 

“S-shit, don’t stop.”

His fingers spread for his tongue to lick between. You punish him for such a dirty move with a harsh pull of his hair that he loves more than anything. Soonyoung does what he does best: groveling for your forgiveness. You’ll give it to him like always. But you both want him to work for it; it’s better when he does. 

He spreads your legs wider, gives a pleased grunt when you hold him in place and grind into his mouth. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant; vision blurry, body on fire.

Soonyoung moans into the sloppy mess of your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips, wedging another finger between the two already ruining you. 

“Oh god—there.”

Your thighs crush his head but he forces them up and open, pinned in place. The tender glow of the end escalates into a scalding burn as it rips through every muscle. You clench so tight around his fingers he can’t move them more than a tight curl. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally rests.

“Did you just—”

Pins and needles ripple through your muscles and all you can do is nod. Once the initial shock fades, there’s a smug twitch of his lips. He catches your foot and pins it before you can kick him.

“Shut up.”

“Have I told you how much I think about you being pregnant?” he asks, watching your every move.

You shake your head. His fingers keep working in gentle strokes, the wet noises quieter than before but loud in your ears. 

“It’s a lot,” he grunts. “Fuck, you’re gonna be so sexy.”

“I’m not already?” you half laugh, half gasp. The spark of arousal already demands more so you rock your hips down despite the sensitivity.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“But I’m not sexy?”

“Don’t pick an argument with me right now, please,” Soonyoung begs. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m thinking about coming in you until you can’t take anymore.”

“Then I’ll be sexy?” you goad.

“You’ve always been sexy.” He punctuates the compliment with a kiss to your left hip bone. “Beautiful.” Another on your right. “Gorgeous.” One on the plush of your thigh. “I love you.”

He folds you in half, knees to chest like you possess the flexibility to stay there, ankles cuffed in his hand, lips hot on the back of your thigh. 

“We should fuck on the bike one more time,” you tease. 

“You want me to defile the mother of my child on a motorcycle?”

You moan at his words. You want him to come wherever he wants, as many times as he can. Until he can’t anymore. To feel nasty and used however he sees fit. You want him on top of you, behind you, bending you over every surface he can until you’re shaking.

“You’re about to defile me right here. W-what’s the difference?”

Soonyoung curls the fingers inside you tight, eyes glued to the way you heave before answering. He fucks into that spot that makes you his puppet and all you want is to ruin him the same way he ruins you with the slightest touch. “You said I should stop doing things that’ll get me arrested.”

You choke on another tease as he sucks on your clit, tongue coaxing pathetic sighs right out of your lungs. He could do this all night. He’d be happy to. Soonyoung grips you tighter as you squirm away. It’s too much. He knows it and that’s why he loves it so much, knowing he can make you cum hard enough to scream.

“Are the cameras still broken at the garage?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, already knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Then you can defile me at your place of business, over the bike. Just like old times.”

“No condoms.”

“How else are you gonna stuff me full of cum?”

Soonyoung groans, pushing your legs wider as his hips rut into the mattress. “Wanna come inside you.”

“Then get up here and do it.”

You’re soaked between the legs, sensitive and swollen. Soonyoung settles into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing his cock into the wet mess of spit and arousal. Your body acts of instinct, hips tilting until he slips between your walls.

“Oh my god.” He laps at the swell of your breast. “‘S okay?”

“Yeah, they don’t hurt yet.”

The sharp edge of his teeth leaves lines across your skin while he sucks at your chest until your spine breaks in half. His fingers keep firm pressure against your clit. Sloppy but enough to keep you pulled taunt. You’ll come a second time if he keeps it up.

“Oh my god,” you echo. 

Soonyoung likes to fuck hard. Hard enough you feel like all your seams are splitting, just shy of shattering your limit. Now’s no different but there's a new edge of caution. Even with his hips flat, inside you until nothing is left to give, he tangles your fingers together and pins them over head in the pillows.

You push your body against his, needy and pliant. Blind want acting as a guide, your ankles lock around his waist. It feels so much better than all the other times he’s fucked you like this; knowing the risk of him coming inside no longer counts and he can do it as many times as you ask. 

The slap of your skin against his fills the room, grunts and pathetic whines passing between mouths with narrowed vision. Nails biting into his shoulders, you flutter tight, trying to pull Soonyoung deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Stretched full beyond belief.

“More,” you beg. Frantic. Needy. All those feelings Soonyoung can incite with the barest of touches and a look.

He rises back on his hands, lighting up with each pathetic whimper of his name. “More what?”

If you had the brain power you’d knock the stupid smirk off his face. “Fuck me.”

“I am,” Soonyoung taunts.

“Breed me.”

“Already h-have.” Soonyoung looks like he wants to laugh but he sinks as much weight as he can into his hips, rhythm clumsy but it’s so good you don’t care. “Fuck, such a good girl. Aren’t you?”

You clench around him. He isn’t the most inspired with dirty talk but he knows your buttons, loves to press on your praise kink when you least expect it. 

“Say it.”

“I-I’m,” you stutter from his fingers finding your raw clit. “I’m your good girl.”

“My pretty little wife,” Soonyoung gasps. “Perfect.”

Every bit of praise adds a drop in the bucket, chest tightening until it explodes without permission; shredding through your veins. Your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hard enough to bruise as you cry, “Soonyoung.”

He doesn’t stop for your orgasm, not for a second. You asked him to breed you and it’s his sole purpose until you’re both satisfied. “G-gonna come.”

“Want it, want you to come in me,” you sob.

Soonyoung grabs for your hair, a gentle tug with enough force your eyes open to find his.

“Want it?” he pants, tilting your hips to fuck deeper. You nod with limited room thanks to his grip. “Then take it.”

The sticky heat you’re accustomed to on your skin stains your insides for the first time. There’s no way you can go back. Not after knowing how right it feels to have him fill you. You shiver beneath his weight, nerves twitching from the idea of him doing it again. Immediately.

“Love you, love you, love you…” Soonyoung chants into your skin, lips slipping over your throat with each breathless gasp.

You roll down into the nasty feel of cum and cock, the minor relief not nearly enough. Not with the idea of sucking the combined taste off him rearing its head. But Soonyoung collapses with a point flex of his thighs to stop your motions.

“Holy fuck,” he shudders. “If you let me do that sooner, we’d have ten kids by now.”

You’re flustered at the idea. “Do you think my vagina is a baby rocket launcher?”

“It’s definitely something.”

“How romantic,” you snort. “Give it a few months and I’ll be so hormonal you won’t touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“Is that what you think?” he hums, face still hidden in your neck like he’s too exhausted to move except to lap at the dip in your throat. A subtle grind reminds you of his cock still wedge in your guts, stiff like he didn’t come hard enough to see stars.

It’s hard to think that after so many years together, this is the biggest love rush you’ve ever experienced. The urge to keep him wrapped in your arms for as long as possible brings tears to your eyes. 

Soonyoung pops over your face after the first sniffle, terrified. “Are you crying?”

“No.” You swipe at the tears. “Shut up.”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, failing to hide his amusement.  

“I’m carrying your child, sorry my hormones are all over the place.” You bat his hand away unsuccessfully, leaning your cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm.  “We’re ready for this?”

“I mean, I was planning to knock you up on our honeymoon anyway,” he shrugs, lips soft on your hairline. “Do you have any more of those tests?”

“Why?”

“I wanna see what’d happen if I pee on one.”

“Nothing.” You push him off, rolling onto hands and knees with your ass in the air, face buried in the pillows. “Now, fuck me again.”

Soonyoung pushes the head of his cock through the mess of cum leaking out before sinking back inside with a grunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

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[angelsndragons]

so my forever gm needed a break. given that this was my only in-person game and i wanted to retain that connection to my community, i volunteered to run the next campaign so she could take a break and just enjoy playing.

i decided to go with a module i knew, having been a pc in it a few years prior: storm king's thunder. i took her copy of the book and started reading.

and nearly threw it through a window in frustration.

for those of you who don't know, the core giant races in the book are very star trek hat-esque. they have Their Thing and that's it. almost all of the giant npcs are evil and out to destroy the world of smallfolk using their delegated hats. there was a shakespearean drama happening at certain points behind the scenes but nothing else in the book supported that level of complexity with the giants or with the scripted encounters in the book. okay so you're telling me a small goblin tribe has holed up in a cave system and when a bunch of villagers flee into said cave, they...take them all prisoner and go raid their village? after learning that the villagers were fleeing from a giant attack on said village? after learning that most of the guards are still in the village proper, defending the broken keep? really? nah, man, that's just not engaging with the goblins as a culture and people.

i think the worst offenders are the hill giants. they're given heinously low soft stats, are treated as nothing more than glutinous sacks of hit points, and they're the fucking butt of the joke. two hill giants can't navigate their way back to their home base after an attack (meaning that the players can't use said hill giants to scout and find the place either). they're tricked at every interval. the big hill giant plot is for the chief to eat literally any and all food her minions can bring her so that she'll grow to be the biggest giant in existence. yes, she too is treated like the butt of a joke for daring to think that that plan is good or viable. she's so fat (and the book goes into this over and over) that she can no longer walk and the wagon she's seated on is broken and hasn't been repaired. she is in fact so fat and so stupid that she forgets that she has a macguffin the party needs. oh and the book goes into great detail about how slovenly and disgusting her place is and then has the nerve throw in a "overbearing wife beats and bullies her husband" joke in there just to round out the misery. this whole ass culture of bad guys is treated like they are goddamn animals, not people.

needless to say i have chucked a great deal of this. the goblins are practical survivalists (we are small and easily squished, if we can't hide we go along until we can escape) and when ogres and giants moved in, they decided to follow orders to gather food right up until the party gives them a legitimate out. thanks to their intervention, this group of goblins are off the board as future enemies and will in fact be appearing as occasional help (one of my players decided they liked the goblins so much that they created a new character to be from that group).

the hill giants now have traditions surrounding food preparation and preservation that go back thousands of years and much of the small folk's current tech in that department is based off of hill giant innovations, which the party is learning about. their ancestors sleep in the hilly regions of the world, growing and growing together, their sometimes living bodies make up the very ground that the small folk walk on and find nourishment from. the hill giants, along with their stone and cloud brethren, are the only giants who remember that giants become one with the land. one amongst many slowly dying giant races and they choose to, well, not embrace it but find peace in it. they're still gullible and still view size as incredibly important but one's skill in the culinary arts can propel them to leadership. chief guh is a culinary visionary who perfected the art of preparing dragon meat and as giants and dragons are enemies beyond memory, that is quite the feat. will the party come to blows with her? i mean, maybe. but at least she and her people won't end up as 'dumb, slow, fat' person jokes.

framing is so important you guys. it's work but it is so worth it. i had my players spitting nails at the racist, isolationist elves whom the village the party was helping were counting on for survival. i had them tearing up as they decided to knowingly walk a group of orcs to their deaths at the hands of the racist, isolationist elves because it was the only way the elves would agree to supply the village through a brutal winter after the village lost everything. one elf, just one, was curious, if completely incorrect, about the outside world and mostly respectful to the pcs. one of the players is now penpals with him and has sent him a history of the sword coast he otherwise doesn't have access to because his people Do Not Care about the world beyond their borders. the campaign is richer for delving deeper into these cultures and people

Putting all tabletop players into a college level ethics class and forcing them to turn in a paper on moral philosophy before buying a new book

[nomie-11]

Ellie Williams x Reader, the Reader is immune like Ellie and both find out the other is immune while out on patrol. They have feelings for each other and when the truth comes out about their immunity and their feelings they start dating and eventually become a couple. If Joel is alive in the story maybe his reaction to there being another immune person.

Breathe Me In

masterlist!

synopsis: the above request!

pairings: ellie williams x reader

The floor gives way before either of you can react. One second, you’re moving through the abandoned building, snow melting off your boots, and the next, the rotten wood splinters beneath your feet. 

The world tilts. 

Your stomach lurches as you crash through layers of decay, falling hard onto your side in a pile of broken furniture and debris. Dust explodes around you—and despite the gas mask on your face—that wasn’t what made your breath catch. 

Spores. Thick, swirling clouds of them. 

Your heart pounds as you scramble up, your gas mask still snug over your face but your eyes immediately lock onto Ellie. The air was knocked from her chest, she’s coughing, and at first you think it's because she hit the floor so hard you could hear the air rush past her lips. But then you look up, watch her shake off the impact, and—her mask is cracked. 

A deep fracture splits the glass down the middle, already letting in the infection that should be filling her lungs. 

Your entire body goes cold. 

“Ellie!” Your voice cracks as you lurch forward, hands already ripping at the straps of your own mask. The rubber digs into your face as you yank it off, ignoring the awful sting as the air—thick with spores—hits your skin. Your only thought is her. Her, with her mask split, her with her lungs exposed to the infection, her with wide green eyes locking onto you in absolute horror. 

She’s on you in an instant, faster than you expected, fingers clawing at your wrists. “What the fuck are you doing?!” Ellie’s voice is sharp, bordering on desperate. 

You try to shove the mask at her, pressing it to her face, your grip shaking. “Put it on! Ellie, put it on, now—”

Her hands snap up to catch yours, her grip iron-tight. “No! Jesus, y/n! Keep it on!” She wrestles with you, trying to force the mask back over your own mouth, her panic rising. 

You don’t let her. You can’t let her. 

“Ellie, please! Just take it!” You push harder, trying to slip the straps over her head, but she’s fighting you like her life depends on it. And maybe she thinks it does. 

Ellie shoves at your hands, her breathing ragged, her green eyes wild with desperation. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You need to keep it on—just keep it on, okay?” Her voice cracks at the edges, and it kills you, the fear laced in her words. 

You shake your head violently, pushing against her resistance, your grip slipping against the sweat forming between your palms. “No, no, Ellie, you don’t understand! You need it more than I do—just put it on, please!”

She’s shaking now, her fingers digging into your wrists hard enough to bruise as she fights you, her entire body wound tight. “Stop it!” She practically begs, trying to force the mask back over your face, her voice trembling. “You don’t get it, you can’t—breathe this in—”

And fuck, if only she knew. 

But she doesn’t. 

Just like you don’t know about her. 

You can see the panic in her eyes, the way her chest heaves with frantic breaths, and it makes your own heart feel like it’s breaking apart, because she’s not scared for herself. She’s terrified for you. 

“Ellie—” Your voice wavers, your throat tightening. “Please, just take it. I can’t—” Your breath stutters, raw emotion bleeding into your words. “I can’t lose you.” 

Her face twists like you’ve just physically hurt her. 

And then she makes a split-second decision that nearly knocks the air from your lungs, yanking your hand down, the mask clattering to the floor as she grabs your face between her shaking fingers. 

Her forehead presses against yours, her breaths mixing with yours, warm and uneven. 

“No one’s losing anyone,” she whispers, her voice breaking on the words. “Not today. Not ever.” 

Tears sting at your eyes, your fingers curling into the fabric of her jacket as your body trembles with the weight that both of you are standing in the basement covered by spores without masks. The way she holds onto you, like you’re the only thing anchoring her to the ground. The way she’s so willing to put her secret at risk to save you, without hesitation, without question. 

And it’s unbearable, because you would do the same thing for her. You are doing the same thing for her. 

Ellie closes her eyes for a second, breathing you in, before she slowly pulls back just enough to look at you, her hands still cradling your face. 

“We have to go,” she says, her voice quieter now, but not less urgent. “We have to go before something shows up.” 

You nod, swallowing against the lump in your throat, your fingers reluctant to let go of her. “Okay.” 

Neither of you acknowledge the truth that hangs in the air between you. 

Not that you’re both still standing. Not that you’re both still breathing. Not that neither of you are infected. 

For now, you just hold onto each other, grip tight, fingers still trembling, as you push your way out of the ruined building, the weight of what just happened settling like a ghost between you. 

——————————————

The kitchen is silent. 

The kind of silence that weighs heavy, pressing into your skin like a damp cloth, suffocating in its own way. The only sounds are the occasional creaks of the old wooden house settling, the faint whistling of the wind slipping through gaps in the windowpanes, and Ellie’s foot tapping idly against the leg of the chair. 

Neither of you have spoken since you got back. Since you climbed out of that ruined basement, since you forced your breathing to slow, since you walked through the front door of Joel’s house Ike nothing had just shattered the foundation of your entire world. 

Ellie had thrown her jacket over the back of her chair, sat down, and you’d followed, dropping into the seat across from her. And now you’re here. Sitting. Waiting. 

For what, you’re not sure. 

The clock on the wall ticks. A fork in the sink shifts slightly. The sound makes Ellie’s jaw tightened, her fingers twitching against the wood of the table. 

You should say something. Maybe make a joke, ease the tension, bring up the fact that you’ve just experienced the most batshit insane moment of your life. That she's like you. That you’re like her. 

That you’re not alone. 

But the words won’t come. 

So the silence stretches. 

Until the front door swings open, and Joel steps inside, boots heavy on the wooden floor. He exhales as he shrugs off his coat, muttering something under his breath about the cold before turning toward the kitchen. 

And the second he sees the two of you, he stops. 

His brows furrow, gaze flicking between you and Ellie, taking in the way you’re both sitting there, shoulders tense, hands still. 

His expression shifts. “Alright,” he says slowly, crossing his arms, standing firm in the doorway. “What the hell is goin’ on with you two?” 

Neither of you answer. 

Ellie stares at the table. You focus on the small crack in the wood near the salt shaker. 

Joel’s gaze hardens. “Ellie.” 

She shifts slightly but doesn’t look up. 

“Y/n.” 

Your throat feels tight. You say nothing. 

Joel exhales through his nose, stepping further inside, letting the door shut behind him with a soft thud. “What, did y’all burn down a building or somethin’? Kill someone you weren’t supposed to?” His voice is gruff, laced with that sharp edge of concern he’s never quite been able to mask. 

Ellie’s fingers curl into her hoodie sleeves. 

Then, finally, she speaks. 

“You weren’t lying.” 

Joel’s frown deepens. “The hell are you talkin’ about?”

Ellie lifts her head, finally meeting his eyes. And when she speaks again, it’s softer. Almost disbelieving. 

“There are others.” 

Joel’s whole body goes still. 

Ellie looks at you then, and it makes your heart stutter. 

“She’s immune.” 

Silence. 

Joel’s expression doesn’t change at first, like his brain hasn’t fully registered what she just said. But then his jaw clenches, his eyes darken just a little, and his arms drop to his sides. “That ain’t somethin’ you joke about, kiddo.” 

Ellie shakes her head, voice steady. “I’m not joking.”

Joel’s gaze shifts to you, and suddenly, you feel like you’re under a microscope, every inch of you being examined. You swallow hard. 

He stares for a long moment, then exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.” 

Ellie leans forward, eyes sharp. I saw it, Joel. We were in a basement filled with spores. My mask was off. Her mask was off.” She swallows, voice quieter. “Look at her. She’s fine.” 

Joel doesn’t speak, he just turns his gaze back to you, and this time, it’s not skepticism. It’s something else. Ellie is still staring at you, something new in her eye, relief flooding her softer gaze. 

You’ve both spent so long thinking you were alone, and now, suddenly you’re not.

Joel finally speaks. “You told anyone?” 

You shake your head again. “No.” 

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face, muttering something like ‘fuck, I liked her more when they were just datin,’ 

Ellie is still looking at you, a hundred thoughts floating behind her eyes. Then, slowly, she traces a finger over the scar on her arm, buried under a chemical burn and layers of ink. “Where’d you get bit first?” 

You hesitate, before pulling up your shirt, revealing a similar mark, a faded bite on your hip. 

Ellie’s lips part slightly, looking between yours an hers, like she’s trying to make sense of it, like she’s seeing herself in you. 

“So, what now?” She asks, voice quieter, uncertain. 

Joel sighs, rubbing his temples. “Hell if I know.” 

But as you look at Ellie—someone who understands, someone who is like you—for the first time in years, you don’t feel alone. 

———————————

The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and old wood as you and Ellie sat side by side on Joel’s porch. The rocking chairs he had made last winter creaked as you shifted slightly, your knees pulled up to your chest wile Ellie leans forward, elbows resting on her thighs. 

It’s quiet, the kind of quiet that settles deep in your bones, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the good kind of quiet. The kind of quiet you only find when you’re sitting with someone who understands. 

Ellie exhales, tilting her head up to the sky. “You ever think about how fucking weird this is?”

You glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the whole ‘I should be dead, but I’m not’ thing?” 

She snorts. “Yeah. That.” 

Silence trenches between you again, but this time it’s different—warmer. It lingers, pressing against your ribs, curling around your fingers as you pick at the frayed hem of your jeans. 

“I wasn’t alone,” Ellie says suddenly, her voice quiet. “When I got bit, I mean.” 

You look over at her, but she’s still staring at the sky. 

Her fingers trace the mark on her arm absentmindedly. “Her name was Riley. She was my best friend. My…” she hesitates, her throat bobbing as she swallows. “More than that.” 

You don’t say anything, just let her have the space to breathe through it. 

Ellie sighs, her hands curling into fists. “We snuck into this mall together. We were just… being stupid kids, y’know? Drinking shitty alcohol, messing around, dancing like idiots.” A soft chuckle escapes her, but there’s no humor in it. “And then… the clickers came. I don’t even remember how it happened. One second, we were wearing Halloween masks and dancing, and the next, I’m curled into her side on the floor of the mall, my finger’s tracing over the bite on my arm.” 

Her voice gets quieter, barely above a whisper. “We decided to wait it out together. Just… go crazy together. But then she turned, and I didn’t.” 

She finally looks at you then, and there’s something raw in her eyes that makes your chest ache. “I kept waiting. I thought maybe it was just delayed. That maybe I’d turn later. But days passed, and nothing happened. And I had to—” she cuts herself off, blinking rapidly. 

You reach out, fingers brushing against hers, and she exhales shakily, but doesn’t pull away. 

“I was alone when I found out,” you admit, voice barely audible. “I was traveling with this group, people I barely knew. We got ambushed, and I got separated. A runner came out of nowhere, tackled me, and bit my hip just as I was about to shoot it.” You pause, your grip tightening slightly around Ellie’s hand. “I thought that was it. I just sat there, waiting to turn. Hours passed, then a day. Then another. And I was still me.” 

Ellie’s gaze is locked onto you now, her breathing slow and steady. 

“At first, I thought maybe I was just lucky. Maybe it was a fluke. But I couldn’t believe it, not really. So I tested it.” You swallow, your voice barely above a whisper. “Again. And Again.” 

Ellie’s fingers tighten around yours, her expression shifting. “What do you mean?” 

You turn your hand over, rolling up your sleeve, showing the faint, scattered scars along your arm. “I needed to be sure,” your voice is steady, but your heart pounds. “So I let them bite me.” 

Ellie inhales sharply. “Jesus, Y/n.” 

You shrug, but there’s no real weight to it. “I had to know. I had to be sure I wasn’t just hallucinating it.” You force out a chuckle, but it just comes out hollow. “Turns out, I’m really fucking immune.” 

Ellie shakes her head, her thumb tracing absent circles against your skin. “That’s… fucking insane.” 

“Yeah.”

Another pause. The wind picks up slightly, rustling the trees in the distance. 

Ellie shifted in her chair, turning more toward you, her leg brushing against yours. “You were really going to give me your mask back there, huh?” 

You met her gaze, something tender blooming between the two of you. 

“My secret wasn’t worth you dying,” you admit softly. “I wasn’t gonna let you die.” 

Ellie exhales, shaking her head with something between disbelief and fondness. “You’re an idiot.” 

You huff out a laugh. “So are you.” 

A small smile tugs at her lips, and Ellie watches you for a long moment, her fingers still brushing against yours, her eyes flickering down to your lips just once before darting back up. Your stomach flips. 

You don’t think you just move. 

Slowly, cautiously, you lean in. 

Ellie doesn’t pull away. Her breath hitches, her fingers curling slightly against your palm as she tilts her head just enough to meet you halfway. 

It’s soft. hesitant. Just the barest brush of lips, warm and tentative, like neither of you are quite sure you’re allowed to have this. 

But then Ellie exhales against your mouth, something easing in her shoulders, and you both lean in just a little more. 

It’s not desperate, not rushed—just the quiet understanding of two people who have spent so long being alone, finally finding something, someone, who makes the world feel a little less heavy. 

When you finally pull back, Ellie’s eyes are still closed, her lips parted slightly. 

She breathes out a laugh, quiet and disbelieving. “I think I like you.”

You grin, heartbeat hammering. “Yeah?” 

Ellie opens her eyes, and there’s something so soft in the deep forest green that your heart feels as though it’s being squeezed. 

“Yeah.” 

The wind whistles through the trees, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like you can finally breathe. 

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[ivoyzzz]

stick with me

synopsis: saebyeok enters the game and to her surprise she sees you. she had broken up with you since everything was getting too real for her. it had been a few months, will the games bring those feelings back?

warnings: normal squid game violence but happy ending

a/n: using the s2 rule where the players split the money if the vote wins bc im in denial about them dying. literally posting all my drafts

when saebyeok joined the games the one thing she wasn’t planning on was seeing you there. you had been out of her life for a few months now, but here you were sitting against the wall looking like a sad puppy who had been kicked. how did you even end up in this place? saebyeok ponders to herself, how did you even collect enough debt that you would need to come here? a billion questions floated through her mind. what breaks her out of her thoughts is the glow from the lights of the piggy bank filling with money. one hundred million won per person who died in red light green light.

saebyeok walks over to you, her glare burning your skin. “why are you here?” she says in that low rumble that used to make you go woozy. by just listening to the tone of her voice, you would’ve thought that she was angry, but you know her better then that. when you look at her face, you see the way her eyebrows furrowed so very slightly. or the way her eyes were just even the tiniest bit sharper. you knew this look, worry.

“why are you here?” you shoot back, you knew saebyeok didn’t always do the most legal things but she shouldn’t be here just as much as you shouldn’t. she looks almost, just the slightest bit annoyed that you would ask her that. saebyeok doesn’t say anything she just takes a seat next to you on the floor. “you’ll die here.” saebyeok mutters not even looking at you. “then lets stick together.” you reply quietly back. she glances at you from the corner of her eye and in that moment you both knew that you couldn’t lose each other again.

during the next game, you looked over all the shapes carefully trying to decide which one you should choose. this was really life or death. saebyeok didn’t even give you a chance to walk over to a line, grabbing onto the sleeve of your jacket and pulling you to the triangle line. saebyeok had told sangwoo what she saw in the vent and he picked triangle. the game turned out to be dalgona and thank god she chose triangle.

during the riot, you couldn’t find saebyeok. it made you sick to your stomach to think about what could’ve happened. what if that thug had gotten to her? you were going to find somewhere to hide but then you feel that oh-so familiar hand pull you with her to a group of unfamiliar people. the rest of that night is blurry, everything happened so fast. but saebyeok was okay and that was what mattered. and you were okay and that was what mattered to saebyeok.

the next morning, you begin to familiarize yourself with these new faces. player 199, easily became someone you could call friend. he had this hope in his eyes that wasn’t easy to keep in a place like this. saebyeok on the other hand didn’t make an effort to talk to anyone in the group, she didn’t come to make friends. that doesn’t mean she wasn’t watching you 24/7. the others noticed it, the way her gaze softened when you talked to her. the way she walked behind you, like a guard dog.

when the next game had announced that everyone was to get in groups of 10. when everyone realized that you only needed 4 more people, sangwoo sent you and saebyeok to find someone and everyone else to find one person. he was very clear to find a man, not a woman. saebyeok wasn’t going to listen to a word coming out of his mouth, saebyeok led the way with you trailing behind her. she was looking over everyone, maybe judging them but none caught her eye. that was until she saw a girl sitting by herself on the stairs. she walked up the stairs, and when she walked back down she had now both of you trailing behind her. ji-yeong was curious about the two of you. the way you easily conversed with her while saebyeok looked as if she wanted to be anywhere else.

after your team had won tug-of-war, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt. did those people really have to die so that your team could live? when the team walked back in, everyone was exhausted. the feeling of guilt was overcrowding the burning of your hands from the rope. saebyeok noticed this immediately, she picked up on your cues. so when you sat against the wall playing with a loose thread on your jacket she followed. “it’s not your fault.” saebyeok murmured, talking to you as if you would break into a million pieces. “i know, but-“ you tried to pull out the words that were running around your mind. and she let you, she sat there patiently and it brought back all those old feelings. the feelings you insisted were gone. but when she made you feel like you were the only one in the room, it was hard.

“we killed those people, they all had lives and now they’re over because of us.” you finally managed to get out, a shaky exhale leaving your dry lips. “it was them or us. we won and now we keep going.” saebyeok says truthfully. that was one of things you liked about saebyeok, she wasn’t one to sugarcoat things. you hadn’t even noticed that her hand had made it’s way on your wrist, her thumb rubbing small circles. you couldn’t bring yourself to respond to saebyeok just giving her a small nod and focusing on the way her comforting hand felt.

you and ji-yeong became fast friends, enjoying just the slightest bit of normalcy in this strange place. saebyeok on the other hand felt like she was babysitting, all the time. when the both of you were together you acted like children. “both of you be quiet.” saebyeok would say when you two would be up talking when all she wanted to do was sleep. she would think to herself, “have you idiots forgotten why your here?” although saebyeok liked seeing the way you laughed again, she hadn’t seen it since the two of you broke up.

when the vote had came she chose to stop the games. the prize money per-person was enough, the risk of loosing you wasn’t worth any amount of money. the majority ruled to stop the games. you felt a sigh of relief leaving your body. no more watching people die, no more fear that the girl you loved was going to die.

after the games things changed. saebyeok bought a small house. there lived saebyeok, cheol, you and ji-yeong. saebyeok had realized in the games that she couldn’t let you slip out of her grasp again. she almost lost you so many times in the games and it wasn’t going to happen again. you and saebyeok rekindled realizing that both of you were stupid to let it go. she couldn’t even remember the reason why the relationship ended. but she did know that both of you had love for each other and that was enough.

saebyeok lived simply, she went to work, took cheol to school and dealt with you and ji-yeong. she thought the both of you were bad in the games, out here it was so much worse. but she wouldn’t trade the chaos for anything. saebyeok liked seeing the way you were with cheol, it made her only love you more. saebyeok always showed you that she loved you, and you knew. even if it was just reaching for your hand when walking, or pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. and saebyeok could finally say she was happy.

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁✬⋆°◦. 𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 ⋆°◦✬꧂

Gi hun if you died

Characters: gi hun (player 456)

Warnings: angst obvi, death and canon violence,descriptions of dead people and blood, mental breakdowns, typical things that happens when someone close to someone else dies tragically idk. Also not edited we ball

A/N: these are kinda short but I’m deciding to write for evil and make something sad.

———-

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 456

- you already know he would be hysterical. Did you see him with sae byeok, sang woo and jung bae?

- doesn’t matter if you knew him outside the games or met inside, I feel like if he cared about you he’d be heart broken

- if you knew him on the outside he would have at the start vowed within himself to get you out. He would also tell you to stay close to him like he did Jung bae. He’d constantly have a look out for you and insist you stay in his team.

- gi hun after everything isn’t the type for grand gestures or anything but his care for you is clear. He will definitely share his food, tell you to sleep in his proximity, constantly checking in. He’s 100% worried all the time and all the more determined to you out (along with the others ofc)

- he’d be giving you advice, comforting you, watching over you at night. He’s your rock in the games and even if you don’t know it your his rock too

- you are kinda the thing he clings to. Not physically, but emotionally. He needs to see that you’re ok all the time and that he can get to you if you need saving. He talks to the other players about teamwork and looking out for each other and he does believe that but he’s also trying to cement people to look after you if he dies.

- you trusted him and always believed what he told you. You and the few people in his trusted circle know he isn’t crazy and know he really has played before. One of them particularly so.

- after the successful over take of the guards after lights out you had helped everyone prepare to invade. You were very anxious to let your precious gi hun run a war with no were to escape from. But he told you he could never live with himself if he didn’t do EVERYTHING he could to get you out, even if it meant sacrificing himself to do it.

- you noticed friend young il always seemed to be a step ahead. Constantly hanging around gi hun and by proxy you. To you it almost seemed like he saw something no one else could. He had a confidence no normal person would have in a death game. It’s not even artificial like thanos’ drug induced euphoria.

- you and Jung bae have discussed young il before and how for some reason you both couldn’t shake that something about him was wrong. You had no proof between the both of you but vibes, but it felt very comforting to know someone understood what you were talking about. Gi hun never picked up on any of it

- eventually you let them go to their battle in the fun house like room everyone had to go though to get to the actual game rooms. You gave him a hug and made him promise to come back. With teary eyes you said good luck to Jung bae, that you were rooting for dae ho, and that Hyun-ju was one of the most inspirational women you’ve ever met (bc she is :3).

- you said something to young il as well. You said “please stay safe, young il. I hope to see you soon” because although you thought he was odd you didn’t want him dead. But all he did was smile in a way you haven’t seen him yet. Like you said something amusing but he couldn’t say what it was or laugh yet. with that 120 led everyone out into the battle field.

- you had to stay in the dorms with everyone who stayed behind and waited for the battle team to return. There was an odd silence among everyone. You would have thought fights would have broken out between the X and O teams while the fight raged on but in reality everyone just kinda of froze. There was nothing else to do really other than wait for the outcome.

- sadly the outcome you hoped for was too far fetched even for this reality

- once in ho turned and brought the hammer down he was primarily focused on hurting gi hun in the worse ways possible. He spent all his time in the games watching and learning about everything ‘gi hun’ is. He’s caring, compassionate and for the most part understanding was well as brave/daring and a tad foolish. He values people’s lives and stories, the nuance in every person. He believes in people. That’s probably why he cares for you (maybe even loves you) . because he knows your story and he believes in you anyway. He sees your mistakes and shortcomings and stills sees the person underneath it all.

- and you are one of the only people in the world to know the gi hun that once was. You are able to love both versions of himself, the old and the new. You bring balance between them both and help him remain stable and motivated. Just as much as he believes in you, you make him believe in him self.

- in ho was able to notice all of that in the short time he saw you both interact in the games. So he planned accordingly. You and Jung bae (aside from his daughter I suppose) were quite literally the all he had left of gi huns old life. The last fragments of when his life was even remotely normal.

- all in ho saw in you was the moment that happened just after the call was made. Pink soldiers rushed the dormitory and began firing. You hear the slow stop of gunfire upstairs. They found you by number after resecuring the area and lead you out into what was the battle field. You saw countless bodies of both gaurd and player, people you had come to know and some from the O team you had come to fear. Although in this moment you still mourned them as you felt there was no difference anymore. There was blood plastered from ceiling to walls to floor in semi dried blood that was beginning to congeal from the air and the smell was sickening.

- you were lead through a complex maze of colorful walls and doors until you reached a all purple area. It was at that time you heard two very familiar voices. You turned a corner to see Jung bae and gi hun held at gun point by a strange looking man in an all grey coat and black geometric maskon the ground. Jung baes eyes were watery and fearful while gi huns were filled with rage and hatered. Until he saw you at least, then it all locked into place. He wasn’t stupid, he could read between the lines. You were brought here for a reason.

- you were suddenly thrown to the ground and held down a gaurd in front of gi hun and Jung bae as you began to scream. The realization hit you as well of course. You began to beg as well as gi hun. You to spare your life and gi hun to save you by saying you had nothing to do with what was between them. He seemed unfazed, much to your horror.

- “look at the consequences of your little hero game” the figure said with the signature deep robotic voice changer as he pointed the gun to your writhing and sobbing form on the ground. You turned to gi him with wide eyes, crying relentlessly as he stared back at you. He began to fight against the guards holding him, and it took a few. Jung bae even tried but to no avail. All you could muster was a small and pathetic “gi hun-“

- and all he could do was watch the only person who really truly knew both sides of him. The person who was there for him before and after the games. All he could do was watch one who brought purpose and guidance to him and kept his head on straights skull get peirced by a single bullet barely a few feet away. He screamed his lungs out as he began to weep. He barely had a few seconds before the barrel was pointed at Jung bae and again everything was taken from him again by the same mysterious man and this cruel operation

- he felt as though his whole world just shattered into pieces and he was the sole survivor. Even though more of the people he tried to save still are alive and need saving gi hun still felt completely alone and lost. Within a few mere minutes everything he’d been fighting for and everything he loved vanished and he felt as though it was all his fault. All he could thing about as he was held down one more time and forced to look at the dead bodies of the closest people he had was how he could have done more.

- he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed while unknowingly in the same room with his dear friend young il. that actually he was the one to pull the trigger and betray everyone.

- he felt another part of him die as he looked at your dead body, still so beautiful and meaningful to him, even dead and gone. Your story and best memories along with everyone else he’s lost will be permanently engrained in his brain. Especially you, the person he was able to love after everything that happened.

_______

[lady-of-endless]

"Glimpse of us" (Seong Gi-hun x player!reader - season 2)

Summary: There you were, in the middle of the chaos, giving him a glimpse of what you two share.

Author's Note: I know that I promised a part two for the In-ho fic, but Gi-hun has priority. The Mingle game does wonders for fanfic ideas.

(Squid Game masterlist here)

So many people were trapped there willingly or not, so many lives that could be lost and not lived to their fullest. Is money really worth it? He found himself staring each person in the face, wanting nothing more than to shout at them in the moment they all stared in awe at the suspended piggy bank.

You swore that you saw a different man when looking at Gi-hun during the games. There was nothing but pure determination and worry in his eyes when scanning the arena but only you knew him and how broken, tired, but paradoxically insomniac he was in reality. Gi-hun's eyes traveled to you like they always did when everything was too much to bear, and his gaze softened.

He cursed himself countless times for letting you come with him. He wished you'd be helping from the outside, safely, but no matter how far his convincing went you still didn't listen. You faced the horror of the games with him, guilt slowly poisoning Gi-hun day by day, game by game.

How could he let you join? Gi-hun frowned and looked away, fixing his gaze on something else. He knew this would be both complicated and motivating at the same time. Still, for your safety, he kept his distance and told you to do the same. You both decided to keep it all a secret during the games, even from his old friend Jung-Bae. You could vividly remember the last embrace you shared before coming here and it felt like ages ago.

The possible regret of choosing to follow him in these games was unknown to you. Not even now, when you almost felt nauseous just from the mere, slow, spinning of the platform.

They all recognized the game, the Mingle game. The instructions were clear and yet, you could feel your heart slamming against your ribcage bolder than before.

You needed to look at him to keep your ground. Your eyes met again while no one paid attention. Sensing something was wrong, Gi-hun studied your face the way he wanted to and didn't allow himself to. As you touched your chest to feel your heartbeat, his jaw clenched and the tension in his shoulders was immediately visible to you underneath the turquoise tracksuit, all because of his worry. The back of his hand touched your free hand at your side, subtly, hiding it by stepping closer next to you. The fleeting worry of exposure shadowed your anxiety about the game for a moment but he was quick to talk.

"Be careful." He whispered to you while still looking around. "It's the only thing I'm asking for."

You closed your eyes and nodded once. That's what he said to you the last time he held you in his arms before joining this hell. As the song and the platform went on, you let yourself look at Gi-hun and recall the days before. You remembered how he was losing sleep, how desperate he was to hold you, how he tried to convince you to give up coming with him, and how he confessed again and again out of fear of whatever might happen. All of those thoughts paused with the platform's abrupt stop.

Five.

It was the first number announced in the speakers and which unleashed the chaos around you.

You were all six in Gi-hun's team. Gi-hun immediately decided to search for others to pair up with so that the rest of the team could stick together and be safe. He gave a slight nod to everyone, holding your gaze for a moment longer, a subtle signal that he would return safely. With that, he headed off into the crowd, leaving the group temporarily fractured. You shook your head to snap out of it and rushed the team to a room, taking Gi-hun's role in leading them to safety.

You could feel the adrenaline in your blood get out of control with each round completed with or without Gi-hun around. It was too much. The team reunited between rounds in a rush, but the joy of seeing them all alive was always interrupted by the speakers announcing the next number. And the next number was the last one.

Two.

Everyone froze. You looked at Gi-hun but he was already staring back. Without hesitation, he stepped forward.

"I'll go with you," He said firmly, determination etched in every deep line of his face. After making sure that the rest of the team split into pairs too, fast, he grabbed your arm and rushed you to the room before it was too late for both.

He got you in the room first and then him. You immediately leaned against the door, breathing heavily. The adrenaline, your heartbeat, it got worse. Gi-hun's hand reached the door next to your head, to steady himself in front of you, panting too.

"You okay?" Gi-hun asked, his voice quiet yet filled with concern, his eyes studying your face for any reaction. The door locked with a short and distinctive click.

"I'm okay, I'm good." You lied to yourself, nodding, agitated

"Just breathe," he murmured, his voice gentle.

Gi-hun watched as you struggled to regulate your breathing, the rise and fall of your chest rapid, your face flushed. He placed a hand on your chest, feeling the frantic beating of your heart against his palm.

"Slow... Slow, deep breaths," he coached gently, his own voice a little vulnerable because of the proximity between you that was slowly more evident.

As you began to slow your breathing, following his steadying guidance, Gi-hun could feel your heart rate slow, the erratic beats becoming more regular under his touch.

"That's it," he murmured, his hand still resting on your chest, fingers splayed against the fabric of your tracksuit jacket. "Were here together, remember," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "We have to keep going." The words were supposed to sound firm and determined, but it all came out hesitantly, weakly.

Gi-hun's mind was a storm of thoughts and feelings. It was too long since you two were close since he touched you since he could feel you. Being so close but so out of reach because of his plan was harder than he expected. He cleared his throat, trying again. "We need to..."

Gi-hun's train of thought was interrupted by the sight of your face. He missed looking at you from this close, feeling your breath on his skin. His eyes were searching for something, anything that could break that tension. All the abstinence, all the longing, and the hiding were making both of you tense and distracted. He could feel it peak now, in the worst moment possible.

"We need to focus," he repeated, but the words felt hollow, the meaning behind them shifting, taking a different turn, a more intimate one. His forehead touched yours.

His eyes suddenly darted to the timer from the wall to the surveillance camera from the corner of the room to the small window from the door that was blocked by your head. There was still time to be spent in that room alone with you. Outside, there was chaos, and he needed a taste of distraction from it all to keep going. The room, the game, the danger, he wanted to forget it all for just a few seconds that were left.

Your face got framed by both of his hands, his fingers lacing through your hair. Before it was too late, his lips found yours in a kiss he missed so much. His touch was gentle yet tense, not knowing what to do first, how much time he had left, wanting to touch you the way he always did before the games. The kiss was a fragile, fleeting thing; the seconds were still ticking, but for him, it all faded in a blur. Gi-hun guided your arms around his neck and sighed into the kiss. Your lips took him back to how much he cares for you and how grateful he is for you. He knew it earlier, from the days spent with you in that motel. You'd always help him with his plans and heart. Gi-hun knew how he was the shell of the simple man he used to be years ago before winning the games, but his heart was still capable of loving with zeal.

His fingers ran down your spine, pushing you against him while his other hand grabbed yours, fingers intertwining. He could lose everything and not care, but not if he were to lose you, the only good thing in his life. The temporary bliss was interrupted by your gasp as the ticking stopped and the door unlocked with a click. You both stepped back hesitantly, both wanting and needing more but the harsh reality of the game and your mission was slipping back into your consciousness. Gi-hun pulled away from you; his breath was uneven, his eyes holding a storm of emotions, and his body felt the absence of your touch.

"The game is over," he murmured, his voice a rough whisper. "We survived another one."

You nodded, catching your breath. His presence calmed you down. You felt a rush of hope when looking into his eyes but you sighed, knowing that it was time to face the other remaining players and hide any form of attachment again. Gi-hun pulled you against him one last time, kissing you again, deeply for a moment before everything. Both of you exchanged one last glance before stepping back in the arena, shielding you.

Searching around for survivors and for his team with a hard expression, Gi-hun's fingertips found his lips in a subtle touch, the heat of your kiss still lingered, giving him another rush of determination to get the whole system of the game down, end it all and leave with you.

[meraki24601]

I Found Them

“I found them! I found them both. They’re… together. Here.” Cop nearly fell to the ground at Sergeant’s feet. “It’s not good.”

“Show me,” Sergeant growled. They kept their face neutral as Cop walked ahead of them. The younger officer was already shaking, and it would be up to Sergeant to ensure everyone made it out in one piece.

Streaks of blood stained the floors in the hall. Paramedics ran past, pulling people and bodies on stretchers. Other officers escorted people in handcuffs in various conditions, some still fighting the inevitable.

Cop stopped just shy of an open door. “They’re here. I… I can’t—” They dropped to their knees and vomited. “I’m sorry.”

“Who all is in there?” Sergeant asked. They nodded as Cop simply shook their head. 

A sharp cry from inside the room sent Sergeant lurching into the cell. Though they would never let it show, the sight broke their hearts. They knew they would be scheduling an appointment with their therapist as soon as everyone was out. Most likely, they would sleep on the couch for the next few nights to keep from waking up their spouse. 

It was nearly silent as the officers inside backed away from the two people lying on the floor. 

Whumpee looked like they had been tossed like a ragdoll. One eye was swollen closed, and their breathing was a light whine. Their other injuries were obscured by Caretaker half-thrown over them. One of their hands slowly rose to cradle Caretaker’s face.

“P… please.” Sergeant strained to hear Whumpee’s breathless plea, “Let them help— help us.”

An officer Sergeant didn’t bother to look at started to step forward with Sergeant, but they motioned them back. They crept closer until they saw Caretaker tense and curl over Whumpee. “Hey,” Sergeant called softly. They knelt beside the steadily growing pool of red. “Whumpee? Caretaker, can you hear me?”

“I told them you would come, Sergeant,” Whumpee said as blood dripped from the corner of their mouth. “I told them not to give up hope after I’m gone. And… And look. You’re not making them wait anymore. You came to save them.”

“Yes, Whumpee. We’re here to save you both.”

Whumpee shook their head and cried out, and Caretaker immediately responded. They lifted themselves on shaking arms over Whumpee, blocking them from Sergeant’s view as much as they could. “Get back! Don’t touch them!”

“Caretaker, you’re safe. We’re here to help. Can you look at me?” Sergeant called, holding out a hand.

Striking with ferocity, Caretaker lashed out at Sergeant and immediately collapsed. They would have crushed Whumpee, but Sergeant lunged forward to catch them. Blood coated Sergeant’s uniform as Caretaker continued to fight back. They screamed in Sergeant’s ear. They scratched with broken nails at Sergeant’s face, but it wasn’t enough to keep from being pulled away from Whumpee and into Sergeant’s restraining arms. 

“Hush. Just breathe. It’s me, Caretaker. You’re safe.” Sergeant whispered in Caretaker’s ear. As the frightened officer began to weaken and lose the will to fight, they waved off the paramedics a moment longer. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

The paramedics focused on Whumpee, blocking the view of everything but their dim eyes watching Caretaker’s struggles. “Take them… T, take them away. Please. Don’t make them watch when I…”

“No.” Sergeant barked as more paramedics and worried officers flooded the room. “You’re not dying here, Whumpee. I’m getting both of you out of here.” 

And they did. Sergeant carried Caretaker out personally. Once Whumpee had been taken out of their sight, the injured and shaking officer went completely boneless, and any fight left drained out of them at once. Though, through it all, they never lost consciousness. 

The only sign that Caretaker was still present happened as they pulled up to the hospital. Paramedics moved around, preparing to transfer Caretaker to a doctor’s care and informing Sergeant of the next steps, and Caretaker pulled one of their hands free. It shook almost violently as their fingers brushed against their cheek where Whumpee’s bloody handprint still stained their skin. “They didn’t want me. I offered them everything… Would have given them anything, but they never took me.”

[darklove9314-blog]

A Rose Without Thorns: an Elucien Fanfic

Hello everyone and welcome to Day 2 of SJM Romance week, Prompt: First Fight. I hope everyone enjoys the story.

Synopsis: When tensions rise between Lucien and Elain, will a heated argument turn into something more? . NSFW: for hate sex.

Rage and fury bubbled up within her, threatening to escape as she slammed the door shut, shoving her back into it as her throat bobbed in frustration, That arrogant, smug, son of a bi-

An aggravated knock sounded at the door, the repetitiveness of it driving her up the wall as she ground her teeth. the beast she tried to keep buried underneath her flesh finally breaking free as she threw the door open revealing Lucien's furious gaze before it flickered to her own. He made his way past her, not bothering to ask for entrance as the fury at the intrusion welled up inside of her.

She slammed the door again, challenge in her gaze, daring him to say anything, to do anything as the fire in his eyes threatened to consume her.

Good. She wanted that fury unleashed on her, she was tired of everyone being silent around her. so afraid to harm her that they treated her like a porcelain doll instead of a person. sometimes she wished they would just let her shatter. No one ever had, not until-

"Care to explain?" He snapped making her spine straighten in response.

"Why should I explain? I'm a grown woman with my own wants and desires. No matter what this bond thinks is going to happen between us means very little to me. I am my own person, I have desires of my own and if I wish to channel those desires it is no business of yours.” She shot back at him, twisting her hands in frustration.

He took a step closer, forcing her back to the door once more, but she refused to back down. She had had enough of this, enough of this tension between them. It was finally time to let it snap.

"Do you want to fuck him?" He asked her. His voice low, almost primal.

She had expected this question. Had expected it the moment Lucien had saw them kiss. What was worse was that when she had done it she had thought Azriel was the male that she had wanted, her desire for him was so potent that she couldn't help but try a taste of him. But when they had kissed, when she had finally given into her fantasies and desires for him. it was-It had not been how she imagined it would be.

She had expected a lot from that kiss, had expected to have this earth shattering, world turning experience. She thought when their lips touched, it would make sense. Her losing Grayson, her broken engagement, all of it. She had expected the kiss to put everything into perspective, to set everything right and give her a direction, a purpose. She had been naive to expect anything more than what it was.

She should have known that Azriel was not the right person for her, that no matter how much peace and quiet he gave her, it would never be enough to settle her, because deep down she knew silence wasn’t always a good thing. And that made her so furious that she could barely speak.

I don't want the cauldron to be right. She thought glancing into Lucien's livid gaze as she squared her shoulders, preparing to strike him with her words once more.

"You have no right to ask me that. I can fuck who I want to fuck. If I take a lover in your absence that is no business of yours and yet you still feel the need to sit there and lecture me about wanting and desiring others but what about Vassa?"

Lucien's jaw clenched, that heated gaze concentrating every ounce of that intensity on her, turning her body near molten from that stare alone.

"What about Vassa, mate?"

She stiffened,

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? Why shouldn't I call you what you are to me?" He challenged her, taking a step forward, yet she refused to take a step back. If he wanted to intimidate her, fine, but she refused to be seen as prey any longer.

"I'm nothing to you. Don't you get it? and don't change the subject. I've seen how you look at her."

A low chuckle escaped Lucien's lips, giving Elain pause as Lucien glanced down at her. His focus solely on her.

"How exactly do I look at her?" He inquired, stepping so close that her back was pressed to the door as she could have sworn that his fingers twitched towards her. Her nipples pebbling in response at that voice. That power, hers wanting to come out to play. To see who would dominate who. But she wouldn’t even give him a taste of that until she knew where they stood.

"You gaze upon her as if she's a goddess walking this earth." She sneered hearing his laughter to her response.

"I will admit, being attracted to Vassa would be easier, She's a beautiful and fierce female who anyone would be lucky to have in their bed and despite our quarrels, we have a lot in common. It would be easy to fall into bed with her, to fall in love with her knowing that she would return that love, however -" He stepped closer, his gaze drinking her in as her fury at his words began to flare, "I have no desire to fuck her. to be with her. She's not the female i dream about, she's not the female who i want to taste, she’s definitely not the female whose legs I want wrapped around my head. The one I want to sink my cock deep into-“ he rasped, their hurried breaths mingling together as desire stronger than she’d ever known pooled between her legs.

He closed the space between them, daring to push the bounds of their separation and she let him, Gods and Mother above, she let him.

Pressing his cock to her center, letting her feel every inch of desire he had for her as he leaned in close, his mouth nearly a whisper away from her ear as those clever hands of his weaved into her hair, tilting her head back to expose her to him as he breathed.

"She's not you."

She erupted, her lips colliding with his own as she let her primal instincts drive her. She was tired of suppressing them. Tired of driving them down to adhere to everyone’s expectations when all she wanted to do was unleash herself.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Lucien slammed Elain into the door, his desire evident as she yanked his hair back wanting to deepen their kiss. If he wanted to play these games then they would play.

His hand found her throat. applying the slightest bit of pressure as she moaned into his mouth, the pressure felt so delicious that Elain couldn't help but revel in it.

"Like that?" Lucien whispered between her lips. never taking his off of her.

She refused to answer, wanting nothing more than for him to shut the fuck up and take her like he wanted to, but after years of waiting for this, she knew the fucker would make her work for this.

He chuckled, the sound sending heat between her thighs as if she hadn't been wet enough, as his other hand that had not been occupying her throat went to her nipple, twisting it through the fabric of her bodice as she moaned loudly into his mouth. Her nipples pebbling at his touch as he pinched her other nipple and rolled it between his fingers making them stay nice and perky for him.

"Answer me." He commanded, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes." She hissed out, cursing his name for making her feel this way.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Mate." She hissed at him. damning him yet again.

"Good Girl." He mused, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine at the words as he pressed a kiss to the side of her throat making it bob. Reminding her that he could be gentle when he wanted to be.

He inhaled her scent, exhaling at the desire he smelt from in between her legs as he pressed her to the door, palming her breast as a growl of frustration escaped from him.

"These clothes are in my way." He growled ripping the top of her bodice as her breast spilled out for him.

Before she could even breath a word about the dress, his hands lifted her thighs wrapping them, around him as he pressed his erection to her center, letting her feel just how much he wanted her.

Her head was heady, she could barely think as his hands moved to underneath her skirts, moving her undergarments and ripping them off in one fluid motion, leaving nothing of hers inaccessible to him as his clever fingers roamed over her folds, exploring the wetness there. Elain moaned from the fire his touch provided, his hand warming the most pleasurable parts of her.

"So wet for me, my mate, tell me, were you ever this wet for him?"

"Gods." She muttered as he pinched her clint rolling it between his fingers as she cried out in pleasure.

"Answer me."

"N-No."

"No what? He asked, drawing her orgasm out from her and denying her every time she was close.

"No, he never made me as wet as you."

"I might have to put that to the test."

"What are you-"

Before she could answer, the rest of her dress was ripped from her, her body lain on the floor as he bared the rest of her to him, leaving her on full display for him, remaining fully clothed in the process.

Keeping her legs open, Lucien knelt before her, moving his head between her legs as the silky strands of his hair brushed against them. he spread her wide making sure he had full access to her pussy as he purred in delight,

His head lowered, meeting her gaze with an intensity she had never seen before as she shattered underneath the first stroke of his tongue.

Making her cry out from how good his tongue felt on her, her nails raked against the wooden floors. Pawing at them for dear life as Lucien continued his exploration only stopping when he felt sated with how much of her wetness he could gather in his mouth. her moans and pleads for him to fuck her filling the room.

"Lucien, please." She begged,

"Please, what?" He taunted,

"Please. fuck me."

He pulled away roughly, tearing her from her orgasm as he stood up, his cock straining against his leathers, making sure he was out of her reach, as she glanced up at him, confused as she questioned,

"What are you-"

"Stand up."

She didn't know why she obeyed as she stood naked and waiting in front of Lucien as he circled around her, observing her as her heart pounded in response. She hated it, Hated the pleasure that he could draw out of her without even trying.

"Hands on the door." He commanded as her nipples hardened in response.

She turned back to the door, leaning against it, as she heard Lucien come up behind her, getting her into position and kneeling her aching body foreword so he could display the full picture of her desire.

His hands went to her hair again, pulling it back as he lowered his voice asking,

"Is the Shadowsinger home?"

"Yes-Yes, why?" She breathed, her core tightening at his words as she felt his lips at her ear, hearing the buckle of his leathers as he undid them before he answered,

"Because I want him to hear what happens when us Autumn Court males fuck the females that are ours."

Before she could respond, his cock drove up inside of her, making her feel every inch of him as she cried out in pleasure. She could barely even remember his name as Lucien rode her with his cock, her pussy gladly accepting him as the door rattled in response, making sure everyone outside of it could hear them.

Her cries turned to sobs as her pussy took more and more of him, she had never had this big before, had never felt so full before as her pussy clamped around him soaking his cock with her desire as her pussy clenched around him, her orgasm erupting from her lips as he continued to pound into her mercilessly.

"Fuck." He exclaimed, as she felt the splashes of his own orgasm inside of her, promising herself that she would ask Madaja for a tonic later as he filled her to the brim. His seed seeping onto her legs as her body ached from the pleasure he had thrusted upon it.

He pulled away, shoving his cock back in his leathers and buckling himself up as he leaned into her, the evidence of what they did between her legs, dripping onto the hardwood floor as he said,

"You're mine, Elain Archeron, just like i am yours. remember that the next time you want to fuck anyone else ." He told her, as he left the room, leaving her stunned, wondering what she was going to do next.

@sjmromanceweek

[random-townie]

I couldn't agree more.

I play other games than The Sims and it's just unbelievable in what condition is that game after so many years of development and the shocking amount of money you need to pay EA for their scraps and pieces of constantly broken content. It is unbelievable, because any other game being constantly maintained in unplayable state like TS4, would be despised and at some point - rather sooner than later - players would held the studio/developers accountable of their BS by abandoning the game. (Check for example the fail of New World couple of years back and how few mistakes led to players exodus, doesn't matter if they fixed it later.) There are indie games fully created by a single person that have better gameplay than TS4 has - and will ever have, no hopes here. (Browse some info on Stardew Valley if you never heard if it.)

There is also a bigger game example from smaller studios which started with great disappointment after being overly hyped and upon release didn't deliver almost anything that was promised. But the studio took it seriously. They improved the game so much that today are it's simply incredible. And over the 8 years of constantly providing immense updates to gameplay adding new mechanics, new immersive quests and deep lore pieces, new activities, overhauling and expanding huge parts of the game both in terms of graphics and gameplay... THEY DID NOT TAKE A SINGLE EXTRA PENNY from their players. Look up the history of No Man's Sky, you might be shocked in comparison, if you only ever played TS.

Now this may be an unpopular opinion, but what the hell. If it triggers you, maybe it means something.

I mostly observe Sims Community, having my first simblr experience just now at 37 yo. But what I can see is also very alarming. The vast amount of TS4 Content Creators that are being reimbursed financially by the EA for promoting their faulty product. There is something I think we need to understand when we are consuming content from our favorite Simmers on YT, IG, TikTok, here on Tumblr. These content creators, with all my love and respect for their work and their content, may not be on EA's payroll, but they are benefiting financially not only from the ads placed in their content anymore. They are biased and they are being paid by EA to be biased.

This is really great PR and marketing strategy. Listen to their sugar coated honest reviews, fake enthusiasm and fake surprise to the content they were involved in making and now you are listening to nothing less than a lousy sales pitch. To be clear, use their creator code to support them if you like them, watch their content, but lets just keep our critical thinking on and call out the BS when its needed.

There's nothing bad in it if you are happy with what EA delivers, just giving you a perspective here. What EA does is predatory and abusive. Look at the lawsuits related to the Epic Games Fortnite being exploitative and using techniques triggering your urge to spend money on content. So many of us, Simmers, are adults, many of us probably with or own kids. We so often despise games like Fortnite with their time limited offers, battle pass, constant FOMO. Getting to 100th paid DLCs and still counting, while being massively promoted by content that should be always tagged as sponsored, well, I dont think it is so much different.

Happy Simming everyone. Love your game, love your Sims, the stories you are telling publicly or just in your head, love your favorite Simmers. But be real too. 💚

I've just watched the Business and "Hobbies" trailer and to say I am disappointed is an understatement. Which I know is not unique to me, and many others feel let down by this almost seemingly intentional mockery of a name. But it just shows me so much why I've been having difficultly playing / enjoying this game lately (aside from my own personal mental health issues going on right now).

And it just comes down to the fact that like many others...I'm so tired of this. I'm tired of having to wait for modders to improve on what EA half-bakes, I'm tired of building pretty sets and feeling bored the moment I hit play, I'm tired of making gorgeous characters only for them to feel flat.

It's like EA hits their target (like...Life & Death was a good pack from a gameplay standpoint, in my opinion) and it keeps you on the hook. Then they quickly shove whatever ungodly amount of kits between packs down our throats, and rush off to release the next one without it feeling full.

Like many of you...I bought & played The Sims and The Sims 2 (both when it came out back in the 2000's & on rerelease) and truthfully...while playing them, I couldn't help but to feel sad. It's goofy as fuck to say but it genuinely breaks my heart how far from grace the sims franchise has fallen.

I love this game so much. It really does make me happy at times, but lately, I just don't find much joy in it. If anything, it leaves me frustrated and disappointed these days whenever I try to play. Maybe it's part of getting older, and the fact that $40 is a lot of money when you're constantly scraping the bottom of your change jar to make it to the next payday.

This game is so bloated with content, and half of it is broken and uses the same animations over and over and over. Like with this much DLC, and how expensive all of it is, I should never be bored when I open this god damn game. Yet, unless I use poses for storytelling or mods, I always end up that way. Like, I don't even want to use poses anymore, and I'm sick of mods feeling almost essential just to enjoy myself.

I just want to open the game and play it as is. But it's not fun.

And that really, really makes me sad.

I don't know what this means long term for me as a simmer. Maybe I'm just in a lull, and just need some space from this game for a bit. I don't know. I guess we'll see what the future holds & maybe I'll feel better soon.

[coupsoficecream]

Sacrifice - ot13

About:

She is not an ordinary girl. She was born with a curst to see through someone future. One day, as she was having a good time with her favourite idols, she accidentally drop her glasses and see through their future and it's not like how she was expected it to be. Infact, it is worser than she thought to. Now, the only one who can save the biggest kpop group in the world is you, Shin Y/n.

Pairing:

ot13 x reader

Warning:

Angsty, Mention of death, Death

Genre:

Angst, Fluff

Song:

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The concert ended up to be bad. But not because of your idol, it was technically because of your ability to see through someone future. Wearing a glasses helps you alot in this cases but have you ever thought that someone will break your glasses just because you accidentally drop it and that person decided to step on it.

It was the worst experienced you've ever had.

No one realised about your broken glasses. Everyone are so tensed and focused to their idols.

Your hand reach out for your broken glasses, carefully bend down as everyone around you are screaming, jumping in a cloud of nine to see their idols performs at the stage.

Unfortunately, someone decided to kick it when you're almost reach over your glasses.

You let out a loud sigh.

At first, you wanted to asked the girl to take it for you but it's such a waste of time. No one seems to give their attention towards you. So, you decided to brush it off and buy a new one from your grandfather since he's the only one who knows about your ability.

Hence, you avoided any eye contact since you don't want to intrude someone privacy.

When you're younger, you thought this is a good opportunity for you to change someone bad future to a better one but as you growing older, you realised, it will the best for you to not use it since it will grow so much trouble in your life.

Because once you saw it, you're no longer safe. Infact, you're tied with their faith.

Plus, if you help them, the faith might as well switch to you.

And here you are, gasping for an air, your eyes widen when your idol, Choi Seungcheol decided to throw a glace to you and give you big smile.

Yes, you're supposed to scream out of happiness but you can't

Because you just saw a picture of him dying. And to much worser, you see everyone's dying, not only him, but the whole seventeen idols.

Your hands are shaking, tears fell out from your eyes, one of your hand still covering your lips. You can help to let out a silent sobs and decided to take a leave for a bathroom.

Out from your luck, Seungcheol noticed about it and told the bodyguard to check on her.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

A few knocks heard from outside the bathroom yet you're still crying. Your mind went blank. You don't know what to do. It is too much for you to handle.

It's been a long time since you had to handle this things. After 5 years not seeing someone future, finally, someone broke the wall and show the true nightmare.

Another knocks follow by and this time you decided to answer it by telling the bodyguard that you're just having a bad headache.

As soon as the bodyguard leaves, you washed your face and bring back yourself to the reality.

"Y/n. Think. Think!"

You hit your head a few times to force your brain on giving ideas to save them. Because you can't afford to lose them.

They're your life.

Your lifesaver.

And this time, you gratefully sacrifice yourself to change the faith.

Time pass by and you didn't realised that it been so long since you sat in the toilet, waiting for the right ideas to pop out.

Soon, you go back to your seat and enjoy the concert while it lasts. Because you know, you only have 3 hours to change the faith.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You walk out from the concert and look forward to your phone. This time, you only have 2 hour 5 minutes to change the faith of Seventeen.

Thanks to your pocket doraemon, you pick the black mask and wore it before going to the back stage, acting like a one of the staff.

As you walk around and dig some information about their activities after this, someone decided to give a heartattack towards you.

"Who are you? I've never seen you before"

You turn around, an anxious feeling creep in your mind.

"Me? Urm- I'm one of the new staff, I was assign to clean the stage"

Nice one, y/n.

"Ohhh, since you're a new staff, let me introduce myself, I'm the knight of Seventeen group, name Lee Seokmin but known as Dk"

He said, a proud smile drawn on his lips. His hand flip his hair slowly and you find your heart flutter a bit.

"I know"

"What?"

"I meant- everyone knows who you are"

You smile awkwardly as you try your best to avoid an eyecontact.

"Right, you're right. Alright then, see you later!"

Once he was gone, you smile widely, heart bumping fast and you can't help to jump out of happiness because that is your first time interacting with him and God, he's so gorgeous. But soon, you quickly brush it off and focus on your mission.

After a few minutes, you walk over the parking lot and find the exact van that they will be using to go to their hotel.

Fortunely, it didn't take so long for you to find it and you rush towards the van, make a puncture on the tire. So, the van wouldn't be working and you make sure to make it obvious.

But as you were about to do it to the other van, someone caught you off hand and it's non other than Kim Mingyu.

"What are you doing?!"

"Shit-"

"Hey! there's someone-"

Your hand find itself on his mouth when he was about to shout out. But he quickly push you off as you forgot how strong and big he is.

"Are you a sasaeng?!-"

"No! Please, can you please listen to me-"

"Why would I?! I'm going to tell the others, come and follow me!"

Once he about to bring you with him, you accidentally speak the silent truth towards him.

"You guys are going to die!"

"What?!"

He looks at you much more angrier, thought that you're threatening him.

"N-no! It doesn't meant like that! It just-"

You let out a huge sigh and tell him slowly.

"I'm trying to save you guys.."

"Are you crazy?"

The same word that you heard from your mother 5 years ago.

"No! Please listen to me for once! I promise, I'm not a sasaeng or a bad person-"

"And what if you are?"

"You can punch me and send me to the police station"

He let out a heavy sigh and turn his body towards you, ready to listen even thought half of his mind is screaming to not listen to you since you're just a stranger to him and you might as well cause him any harm.

While the other half is telling himself that if the girl would like to hurt him, he would have died by now yet he's still breathing.

"First of all.. my name is Shin Y/n. I'm telling you this so you can report my name to the police if i tried to kill you or anything"

"Secondly.. I'm doing all of this just because I wanted to protect all of you"

"For what? We can protect ourselves-"

"I can see someone future"

"What?!"

"That's why I'm trying to stop you guys from going back home-"

You quickly pull him to hide with you when you see his friends finally came out from the backstage. Ready to go back home.

A sudden rush, fasten your heartbeat and you can't help to imagine the lost of your lovely idol.

"Listen to me, at 11.30p.m. , a big accident will happen and I need you to tell the driver to avoid using the main road"

"Does it meant, we will die if we-"

"Yes. Since we doesn't have an enough time, that's the only way to do it"

"Is there any other way?"

"What?"

For a moment, you tried to processing. Yes, there's another way but-

"Any other way?"

You look at him for awhile, glad that he's wearing a glasses so you aren't able to see his future, yet a flash of earlier memories play right onto your eyes about the accident and you can't help to bit your lips.

"Sacrifice"

"What?"

Another silent goes on as you find yourself biting your lips again.

"Just don't go anywhere till the clock past 12 p.m."

As he was about to reply, you quickly shove yourself out and hide yourself behind the bushes.

"I hope he trust me"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"We can't go back home"

"What do you meant?"

"The tires broke, we need to wait for the new van to arrives and it will take around 30 minute for them to arrive"

Everyone groans tiredly when Scoups decided to shout out the bad news towards them.

While everyone sighing, trying to find a spot for them to rest. Kim Mingyu just lean over the wall, rethinking about the information that he received earlier.

He can't help to doubt it.

But something inside him telling him that you're telling the truth. Even if you lied, he can find you since you already told your name to him.

Plus, he saw a Minghao pcs and his pcs on your bag. You also hold onto the lightstick which is pretty obvious that you're a carat.

And why would a carat kill them right?

"Hey"

"Are you okay?"

Mingyu look at Jeonghan as he can't help to feel scared.

"I'm okay.."

"Are you sure?"

He stuttered, can't help to tell him the things that he heard from you.

"If you have anything to tell, you can just tell me. C'mon, we're bros"

He let out a nervous chuckle. When he was about to spill it, Scoups shout out loud towards everyone at the backstage.

"Guys! the van is here!"

Jeonghan quickly pat him on shoulder and told him to tell him once he's ready.

Once he leaved, Mingyu look at the clock and there are 15 minutes left before 12 p.m.

"Why does the van arrive so early, haish"

A shot of anxiety hit him, he tried his best on persuaded his brothers to stay here for a little bit longer by giving some excuses.

Yet no one cares because they are too tired and Mingyu totally understood because he's also feel the energy in him slowly draining.

"Sacrificed"

Those words keep repeating in his mind, can't help to think about the real meaning of it.

Soon, he decided to brush it off since it's already 11.58p.m. by the time they go. Plus, you only said to him that the accident will happen at 11.30 p.m. but never said why you told him to stay at there until 12p.m.

Time goes by, everyone in the van are already in the deep slumber. Some of them are snoring loudly and some of them is hugging each other while sleeping.

Out of a sudden, the van break suddenly, awaken them from their sleep.

"What happen?"

"There's an accident, I'm sorry for the sudden break"

"It's okay-"

Mingyu eye's open widely when he heard the word of 'accident'. He push everyone out of the way and jump out from the van. Everyone tried to stop him but all he ever thinks right now is your word.

"Sacrifice"

'Does that meant, she have to sacrifice for us?'

He keep thinking about it as he run along the traffic jam.

Once he arrives, he sees a big lorry turning upside down and everyone are taking a picture of the lorry. Yet no one realised about the car that was thrown in the bushes.

And Mingyu notices about it.

He run over to the car, through the bushes and find the car was empty. As he was about to look further, he heard a voice behind him.

"M-mingyu?"

He turn around to find you lying on the ground, blood everywhere. The feeling of guilty build inside him.

Only if he stop them till 12p.m. , you might not be in this situation.

"Go"

"What?"

"Go. Don't save me"

"What are you talking about?! You're dying, you need help from the medic"

"It's useless"

"Nothing use-"

"To avoid you guys from dying, sacrifice is the only way to do it"

"What do you meant-"

"Just let me do it. Please..."

"Why?"

You let out a small smile through the pain all over your body. You feel ache everywhere and you can't help to feel helpful because you finally manage to change someone faith.

"You guys once save me from dying, let me just-"

Suddenly, someone shouted out his name, searching him throught the bushes. It's pretty dark, it's impossible to see him through these big bushes.

"Mingyu?! Where are you?!"

All of your last strength were being used to push him away from your bloody body.

"Go"

"Even if you help me, i'll still died. Trust me." You continued.

He let out a few heavy breath, tears ran out on his cheeks. He can't help to feel useless. You're nothing to him. You're a stranger. But the stranger who sacrifices themself is a carat.

Infact, he was once trust that carat only love him because of his physical body and his attractive face. And today, you proves to him how much adoration that they receives from the fans.

"Thank you"

You chuckle through the pain when you both said thank you in sync.

Soon, you find yourself watching the moon, a soft smile appear on your lips as you can't help to feel helpful and relieve when Mingyu leave.

"Mom.. I finally did it"

And for the last time, you heard a few voices, screaming for helps when they noticed about your present. By the time medical arrives, you already find yourself in a darkness, welcoming the death that finally reach over you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[drowsystarlight]

Something’s changed

I know why, I don’t know when, I know it was me

I don’t know you anymore but I know you enough to know that

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

RiAAU Sasha's complicated relationship with her adoptive parents, Percy and Braddock, stems from an awkward mixture of unconditional love, resentment over their inability to protect her from Grime in her childhood, and their fear of what she's become.

[buttercupshands]

Honestly I think the saddest thing in bnha is that we don't really know when does canon diverge from our time. Like...

What if it was when people were waiting for a game to come out and then it didn't since quirks were more important and then in was more important to promote heroes

There's definitely some games that survive that we know it from LoL reference from Tomura, but what about other games?

Maybe indie games are the ones trying to be "like in the old times" before quirks exist, but then authors get canceled for making a person use abilities that look like usual quirks while the protagonist doesn't have any and that's bad since players can't associate themselves with the main character

Because yeah they clearly don't have quirkless people anymore

I'm really curious what is considered old in this manga in terms of games. Like afo and Yoichi clearly had some 60-70s style comics, soo?

[bbrabbits]

as a person w so goddamn much medical trauma the thought of having to go through the process to find a new doctor that is not just simply compatible w me, but who is also, like. u know. an actually nice, understanding person who will put genuine effort into taking proper care of me is so taxing. like i wish it was a simpler process, but it's not. bc i gotta deal w the very real possibility that by having to go through this process, my medical trauma will be worsened even further. & it is already bad enough that i have panic attacks every time i have to go to any sort of medical facility.

im literally so fucking furious over how much this happens. & that there's no fucking consequence for doing it to a Human Being. for tossing a Human Being that needs medical care aside like a piece of fucking trash. the american healthcare system is such a stupid fucking joke.

[hayatheauthor]

10 Non-Lethal Injuries to Add Pain to Your Writing

New Part: 10 Lethal Injury Ideas

If you need a simple way to make your characters feel pain, here are some ideas: 

1. Sprained Ankle

A common injury that can severely limit mobility. This is useful because your characters will have to experience a mild struggle and adapt their plans to their new lack of mobiliy. Perfect to add tension to a chase scene.

2. Rib Contusion

A painful bruise on the ribs can make breathing difficult, helping you sneak in those ragged wheezes during a fight scene. Could also be used for something sport-related! It's impactful enough to leave a lingering pain but not enough to hinder their overall movement.

3. Concussions

This common brain injury can lead to confusion, dizziness, and mood swings, affecting a character’s judgment heavily. It can also cause mild amnesia.

I enjoy using concussions when you need another character to subtly take over the fight/scene, it's an easy way to switch POVs. You could also use it if you need a 'cute' recovery moment with A and B.

4. Fractured Finger

A broken finger can complicate tasks that require fine motor skills. This would be perfect for characters like artists, writers, etc. Or, a fighter who brushes it off as nothing till they try to throw a punch and are hit with pain.

5. Road Rash

Road rash is an abrasion caused by friction. Aka scraping skin. The raw, painful sting resulting from a fall can be a quick but effective way to add pain to your writing. Tip: it's great if you need a mild injury for a child.

6. Shoulder Dislocation

This injury can be excruciating and often leads to an inability to use one arm, forcing characters to confront their limitations while adding urgency to their situation. Good for torture scenes.

7. Deep Laceration

A deep laceration is a cut that requires stitches. As someone who got stitches as a kid, they really aren't that bad! A 2-3 inch wound (in length) provides just enough pain and blood to add that dramatic flair to your writing while not severely deterring your character.

This is also a great wound to look back on since it often scars. Note: the deeper and wider the cut the worse your character's condition. Don't give them a 5 inch deep gash and call that mild.

8. Burns

Whether from fire, chemicals, or hot surfaces, burns can cause intense suffering and lingering trauma. Like the previous injury, the lasting physical and emotional trauma of a burn is a great wound for characters to look back on.

If you want to explore writing burns, read here.

9. Pulled Muscle

This can create ongoing pain and restrict movement, offering a window to force your character to lean on another. Note: I personally use muscle related injuries when I want to focus more on the pain and sprains to focus on a lack of mobility.

10. Tendonitis

Inflammation of a tendon can cause chronic pain and limit a character's ability to perform tasks they usually take for granted. When exploring tendonitis make sure you research well as this can easily turn into a more severe injury.

This is a quick, brief list of ideas to provide writers inspiration. Since it is a shorter blog, I have not covered the injuries in detail. This is inspiration, not a thorough guide. Happy writing! :)

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

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[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!

ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)

featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.

you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...

well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.

"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.

he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.

when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.

tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.

౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA

haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)

he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.

atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.

"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.

in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.

"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"

he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.

"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."

your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.

౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO

the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."

you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.

"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.

but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.

"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.

with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.

"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.

he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."

you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.

and he's going to give it to you.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?

he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.

even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.

he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.

"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA

everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?

he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.

"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.

"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.

"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.

"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?

as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.

౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA

your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—

suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.

you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.

because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.

your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.

your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.

"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.