#the answer for eyelids is like. Basically Nothing

[daughterofsarenrae]

They should make eczema advice that is not "stop wearing make up" thanks im already doing that. What next

[chewnotchoke]

because it's you - h.taesan

warning: han taesan x fem!reader, smut (mndi), virgin!taesan x virgin!reader, so they're basically inexperienced, they are clumsy and cute, oral (f. receiving), handjob, taesan doesn't know how to eat a pussy but he's a fast-learner 🤓

wc: 2k

note: apologies in advance if this is bad >_< let me know your thoughts thru reblogs, comments, or asks! hope u enjoy <3

the glow from the forgotten tv show illuminated the room, being its only source of light. it was a first for you and your boyfriend to go as far as third base. when you pulled taesan’s shorts down for the first time, he looked at you with those eyes–mixed with curiosity and excitement. you know he trusts you with the way his hands gripped on yours tighter. you smiled gently, reassuring him, watching his cheeks burn and his gaze fall momentarily. 

taesan’s body reacted instantly when you gave his cock a soft touch, getting used to the feeling of someone touching him for the first time. you knew he was holding back with the way he was biting his lip to stop himself from making a sound. but at the same time, he’s anticipating more with each movement. 

you start pumping your fist on his length slowly, testing and seeing his reaction with every stroke. he throws his head back on the couch, quiet with his eyes closed. still no sound coming out from his mouth but he was squeezing your hand tighter. you tried to keep going a little faster, expecting him to feel better but it was nothing other than his heavy breathing.

“does it not feel good?” you stopped stroking his cock, taking taesan by surprise as you felt a little insecure that you might be doing something wrong. once more, your gaze darted to his face, searching for any sign—a stare, a sigh, anything.

“i-...it feels good…why?” his voice was low, noticing the worried look in your eyes. “you’re just…quiet. and i thought i was doing it wro-”

“baby, no.” he cups your face, eyes meeting yours. “i’m just…it’s my first time and i’m kind of shy to be loud.” his face flushed as he confessed, murmuring. you felt a wave of relief and your smile grew a little. “but it’s my first time too, and i kind of want to know if you’re feeling good. is it okay?” 

“okay, i won’t hold back anymore.” taesan answers and his shoulders are relaxed this time. his breath hitched when your warm hands wrapped around his erection once again. he seemed to be getting more at ease as he leaned into the feeling and his breathing became less consistent and loud. it seemed important, as if he had been waiting for it but hadn't known how much he would crave it until now. 

his eyelids flew shut as the intensity rose and he gave himself completely over to the feeling, his heart racing from the pleasure. 

“fuck…” 

and there it was, a soft and stifled moan coming out from his mouth. knowing that it was a sound that was only meant for you gave you the confidence to keep going faster. you shove your hand deeper into his cock and continue to jack him off. it was difficult for taesan to breathe, to think, to do anything but feel as waves of sensation swept through him with every little movement.

“feels good…” his gaze flickering up to meet yours now and then, as though he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. he clenches his jaw as you go faster, and you are enjoying a little too much with the sounds escaping from his mouth. he opens his eyes for a moment to find your chin and leans in for kisses. taesan lets out heavy breaths in between as you keep pumping your fist down his length. his eyes fluttered shut, pulling away from the kiss to say, “close”

as he grew closer to cumming, his fingertips touched your cheek a bit longer than necessary as he brushed a loose strand of hair out of your face. and on the other, his thumb made soft circles on the back of your hand that made your chest flutter, yet he didn't pull back as his hand fell. “good?” you asked, but seems like he could not form any more words to answer you, but the way taesan groans as he came was enough for you to know. 

his fingers slowly tighten around your arm in a quiet show of care and trust. you watch his chest move up and down, and he brushes his hair with his fingers, pushing them back while he cums. a smile tugged both on your lips when he finally caught his breath. the silence was broken by a faint giggle from taesan, his hand finding yours, and his fingers gliding between them as if they were the most natural thing in the world.

he took your hand to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on your knuckles while his eyes softened and became more sincere. “can i eat you out? i haven’t done that before, though…”

“do you wanna try?” 

“you think i can make you feel good? i don’t want to mess up.” his lips protruded into a small pout, worried that you may feel weird. a small laugh escaped you, but it wasn’t mocking—it was warm, fond. “why don’t you get down on me and i’ll find out?” taesan just nodded and began to slid your pajamas down. 

“but i didn’t-” he stops for a moment to listen to you.“hm?”

“i didn’t shave…” 

taesan could only smile at your reply, unbothered. “didn’t ask. can’t play golf without grass, hm?” the warmth in your chest spread like a soft glow, and you couldn't help but smile.

“so how do i do it?” the uncertainty in his gaze changed to something softer and warmer as he leaned in and completely pulled your bottoms down, a mixture of assurance and desire that made your heart skip a beat. he positions himself into something comfortable as he kneels before the couch. his hands find yours, lacing them together. 

the warmth of his breath caused sparks to dance down your nerves as his lips slightly pressed on your core, already wet from jacking him off earlier. your breath hitched and taesan couldn’t help but notice. 

“are you okay?” he asks. “y-yeah…i just…no one has ever gone down on me before so i’m new to this.” you could sense the effort he put into every action as he breathed gently, as though grounding himself. his lips initially touched your skin reluctantly, yet each contact was featherlight. you could tell taesan was trying. the way his breath warmed your skin, the way his fingers gripped you gently, the way his tongue barely brushed your folds, and the focused furrow of his brows.

he was almost a minute into eating you out but something wasn’t clicking. you twitched a little, biting your lip to contain your laughter at the way how silly it all seemed. he stopped, staring up at you with anxious eyes.

“did i do something wrong?” he asked, his voice hesitant, cheeks flushed from both effort and embarrassment. you wondered how even at this moment of intimacy, taesan still looks so adorable. you brushed your hand through his hair. “are you nervous? i think you’re overthinking it a lot, taesanie. you don’t have to try hard…” 

with a startled expression on his face, he buried his face against your thigh for a moment before laughing softly and self-consciously, embarrassed. “i’m sorry, i just don’t want to mess up your first time.” he smiled shyly. “it’s okay, honey. you’re not messing things up. you can take your time exploring, and focus on what can make me feel better, okay?” you reassured him, and he nodded.

this time, his hands gripped your waist and he swallowed visibly before asking you,

“can you spread your legs again for me?”

without hesitation, you spread your legs out in front of him.

“thank you. so, tell me. what do i do?” 

it was simpler to respond because of his openness and willingness to listen, even though the question made your cheeks flame. you whispered, “start slower.” “and…try to focus here.” you moved his hand a little to show him the spot on your clit, and he nodded shyly. and so he started, his every action infused with tenderness and a desire to make you feel loved, appreciated, and totally relaxed.

“like this?” his lips brushed on your buds, this time, more firm.  he mouthed at your pussy while smothering his head between your thighs and pressing his nose against your skin. with your fingers clutching his hair, you silently gasped. "yes." you exhaled, your body reacting to the change in his touch already. 

taesan’s eyes brightened at your response, and a faint smile of satisfaction tugged at his lips as he leaned in once more. his confidence rose with each sound you uttered and each small gesture you made. your hips jerked forward, and you whimpered as your clit's nub begged for attention. he continued swatting his tongue on your clit. the way he threw himself into the situation, centered on making you feel taken care of, was really charming.

knowing it was both your first time, he did not want to mess it up and make you feel weird. he wanted to make you feel better, in a way that you would keep craving more. he wanted to make you feel good, checking out on you from time to time with a glance just in case it was uncomfortable for you. he was overthinking at first, trying to make everything perfect. but it need not be perfect, every touch was intimate and meaningful—because it was taesan. 

taesan drags his tongue on your walls, making an attempt to your entrance. your taste lingered on his tongue. with every kiss, every gentle touch, he wasn’t just trying to please you—he was showing you how much he cared, how much he wanted to make you feel loved and cherished in a way that only he could.

"taesan," his name escaping your lips, your voice little more than a gasping entreaty. your thighs quivered under his touch as your fingers got caught in his hair, the softness of it grounding you. his touches felt more natural this time as if he was beginning to understand what compelled you to gasp.

he sealed his lips onto your wet folds, finally getting a hang of how to stuff himself with a pussy, and how to make you feel good. taesan left a trail on every part of your inner thigh and you couldn’t help but flutter your eyes shut as you whimpered continuously. slick texture kept gushing out of your entrance, and taesan took his time making circles in your area. 

you felt the coil building on your stomach becoming tighter as you grew close to orgasm. 

“taesan, i think i’m-” when he notices you are reaching your limit, his touch becomes more responsive to the tiny arch of your back and the rhythm of your breathing. the heat in your core intensifies with every passing second. “close?” he asks.

“y-yeah.” your voice shaky, barely above a whisper. the confession made your cheeks burn, but the look in his eyes when he glanced up was enough to make your heart stutter. his soft gaze met yours, full of warmth. you felt your body tense and his tongue swirled around you gently but firmly, increasing the pressure of his mouth on your pussy, and everything was intimate about it. 

when you finished, the heat eventually subsided and you felt weightless and dazed, taesan pulled back a little, his lips curving into the sweetest, most attractive smile. nothing was hotter than seeing his lips glistening with evidence of how wholly he’d been consumed in pleasing you. 

he found himself holding onto your hand, asking for assurance. “did i do okay?” his voice low and a little breathless, his cheeks flushed. 

“you were perfect.” your heart still pounds on your chest as let out a small laugh. “such a fast learner, aren’t you?” as you kissed him, your body still throbbing, he grinned against your lips, and you couldn't help but think that nothing had ever felt so completely right, so intimate, as being with him in this way. taesan smirked as he pulled away, realizing you got to taste yourself from the kiss. 

“you taste good, right?”

˚ ༘♡ — @onedoornet @zynz0 @kkumistars

[sleepyjuice]

Omg wait imagine when JJ notices you like messing with his rings, he gets a fidget ring that you can spin whenever you're bored(I have one and they're rlly fun lmao)

ahhhh yes!!! I didn’t even know this was a thing lol!!!

jj debated on whether he should let you pick out a fidget ring for him, or if he should just get one and have it be a surprise for you.

He decided to go with the latter, figuring that you would want to pick him out another one at some point.

You had arrived at the chateau after a long day of work, wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed with your boyfriend. Working two doubles in a row was not for the weak.

“Hey sweet thing, how was work?” jj sat up from his spot on the couch as you swung open the door, kicking your shoes off and setting your purse on the counter as you made your way across the room to your boyfriend who had waited up for you as you didn’t get off work until 11.

You sighed as jj pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you close.

“Oh, just peachy.” You grumbled, exhausted from spending 12 hours using your ‘customer service voice.’

“Mm,” jj hummed as he pressed his lips to your neck, leaving little kisses up and down the skin, “I’m just glad you’re home now, baby.”

You tilted your head, a smile tugging at your lips before you placed your hands on his chest, softly nudging him back a bit.

“I feel gross right now. Wanna shower with me?” You asked, and jj wasted absolutely no time before swooping you into his arms and carrying you into the bathroom as you giggled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

After a nice shower that basically just consisted of the two of your groping each other the entire time, you ended up in bed.

You finally felt yourself fully relax for the night as you lay your head on your boyfriend’s chest after a post shower quickie, your half naked bodies pressed against each other.

You instinctively reached for jj’s hands, taking ahold of the closest one in reach to you, sighing as you gently played with his fingers, already feeling your eyelids grow more tired by the second.

You were practically seconds away from sleep, at this point just lazily messing with his rings when you moved to another one of his fingers to toy with his ring when you realized it just fucking spun.

That woke you right up.

“What is that?” Your eyes shot open, immediately looking down at his fingers in your hand, finally noticing that he had a new ring.

You thought you had somehow broken one of his rings or something, but upon spotting the new one, you gently gave it another little push and it spun again, your eyes shooting over to jj now.

He couldn’t hold in his laughter at your reaction, mentally patting himself on the back for his decision to let it be a surprise for you, your reaction was both hilarious yet also warmed his heart at the same time. He always felt like both emotional and material wise, he didn’t have much to offer. Though as your relationship progressed, he began to rewire some of his toxic thoughts about himself, learning more about the good things about himself that his brain never allowed him to acknowledge.

“You like it?” He laughed, already knowing the answer.

“It’s uh, it’s a fidget ring. Basically just a regular ring but it’s actually designed to be played with and stuff.” He explained, watching you with a satisfied grin as you continued to play with it.

“Did you get this for me?” You asked him, and you swore your heart was about to explode. This was genuinely one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for you.

“Course I did,” he kissed the top of your head, “you’re always playin’ with my rings, thought I’d get one that’s more fun, y’know?” He chuckled softly as you continued to mess with it.

“Oh my godddd..” you giggled, tilting your head to kiss his lips repeatedly, only pulling away because you both kept laughing.

“I’m glad you like it, baby.” He hummed, pulling you even closer to him.

“I love it.” You smiled contently against his chest.

“So, you must really love when I play with your hands, huh?”

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ 12 3 days of christmas

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"𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤" "𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?"

✩ : a real life christmas miracle at the hamiltons

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : lewis hamilton

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : comfort, fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1k

✍︎ : give these babies a little love please, we need to spread the christmas cheer

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Snow fell gently outside, the world muffled under its icy embrace. Inside, the twinkling Christmas lights brought a soft glow to your living room, though their warmth still wasn’t enough to melt the cold sensation that had sunken into your chest. You sat on the couch, staring blankly at the three stockings carefully hung on the wall in front of you. Yours, your daughter’s… and Lewis’, dangling limp like a silent reminder of the promise he couldn’t keep.

“Mummy, look!” Your little one spun in her red-and-white pajamas, Roscoe right behind her as he wagged his short tail, matching her excitement in his own special way. Her dark curls bounced as she twirled to the melody of All I Want for Christmas Is You, her joyful giggles a painful contrast to the bitter aching of your heart.

You’d tried your best to be cheerful for her, keeping the holiday spirit alive and pretending like nothing was wrong. Except everything was. This Christmas was supposed to be different: Lewis had given you his word, he’d make it back in time, but when he’d called earlier in the week, his voice apologetic, you’d known the truth before he even said it. A delayed flight, last-minute obligations—it was something you understood, having to constantly balance your everyday life with his tight schedule, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Do you think Daddy remembers it’s Christmas tomorrow?” she asked, her wide eyes so much like his as she snapped you out of your thoughts once again, her hopeful tone tugging at your heart.

She’d been counting down the days with the anticipation only a five-year-old could muster, while you couldn’t even find the courage to tell her Lewis wouldn’t be at home with you in the morning. You didn’t want her to see your disappointment, so you quickly masked it with a strained smile as you picked her up from the floor and put her on your knees.

“Of course, baby,” you reassured her, softly caressing her cheek. “Daddy always remembers the important things.”

The girl beamed, satisfied with your answer, before running off to her room and basically leaping into the bed, her eyes already clenched shut when you reached her to tuck her in—“If I fall asleep now, Christmas comes early and Daddy will be here,” she’d mumbled as she started to drift off.

The lump in your throat was hard to swallow as you leaned down to give her a trembling kiss on the forehead. “Daddy’s always with you,” you whispered, the weight in your chest heavier than before when you settled yourself beside her.

The first thing you heard in the morning was the sound of hurried footsteps rushing over to your daughter’s bed—where you’d ended up sleeping the entire night—followed by a series of excited squeals.

“Mummy, he’s here!” The girl’s high-pitched voice definitively woke you up from your slumber, her words making no sense to you.

You blinked a few times, eyelids fighting to stay open as your more than confused gaze questioned the little one, who was now trying to roll you out of her bed, having already yanked the cover off your slowly freezing body.

“Who’s here, sweetheart?” you managed to ask, slurring your speech.

“Daddy! He’s in the living room!” She was getting more and more impatient, her disheveled hair bouncing around her tiny shoulders as she kept hopping on her toes.

Her words finally clicked in your mind, and you flashed her a bittersweet smile. “Oh, is he now? Did Santa bring him on the sleigh?”

“Yes, come and see!” she insisted, giving you a firm tug on the hand to pull you up.

It was only when Roscoe joined her too, his paws planted on your chest as he started licking you all over your face, that you finally decided to play along.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, wiping off the dog’s drool from your cheeks as you let your daughter drag you toward the living room. “Let’s see what that little head of yours has come up with this time.”

The words died on your lips as you rounded the corner, your voice trailing off.

There he was.

Lewis stood by the Christmas tree, snow dusting his heavy coat and scarf, the delicate flakes tangled in his locks like a hundred pretty bows. His arms were loaded with presents, which he let fall to the ground as soon as you stepped into the room, his sweet brown eyes immediately finding yours as a heart melting smile spread across his face—and the world around you suddenly felt warm again.

“Surprise,” he said softly, though his tone had a hesitant edge to it.

“I told you he was here!” your little girl kept shrieking, running straight into her dad’s open arms when he kneeled down.

He scooped her up effortlessly, spinning her around as her delighted giggles ringed through the air, the sound better than any Christmas song you’d ever heard.

“Hey, princess. Did you miss me?” Lewis asked her, tenderness lacing his voice as she clung closer to his chest.

“Yes, but I knew you were coming back because I asked Santa to bring you home in my Christmas letter.”

You exchanged a glance over her curly head, his sheepish one meeting yours in an unspoken apology. “You said you couldn’t make it,” you then broke the silence, your almost accusing tone filled with emotion.

“I know,” he stepped closer, before reaching out and pulling you into his embrace as well, his forehead rested lightly against yours. “But I wouldn’t have missed Christmas with my girls for anything in the world.”

You couldn’t stop the tear that rolled down your cheek as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, while your daughter, totally clueless, climbed down Lewis’ side and dashed to where he’d left the presents, carefully inspecting the brightly wrapped boxes.

“So,” he whispered in your ear, his breath grazing your skin as he spoke, “am I forgiven now?”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him and gently brushed your fingertips over his dark braids, taking out a little snowflake that still hadn’t melted. “More than forgiven,” you murmured back, yanking him by the hem of his scarf until your lips crashed together.

And, for the first time in a while, everything felt complete again.

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©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[askmerriauthor]

Homie. Darling. Muchaco. Please help me. You're an animator. You've worked in the video game industry. When you get to That One Memory in TOTK (you know which one I mean and if you don't, you will),

Please help me figure out what the fuck is going on with Ganondorf's face rigging

Man, I didn't even need to look anything up: I knew EXACTLY what you were talking about as soon as you said it.

Short Answer: Need more polys.

Long Answer: It's simultaneously a case of limited model structure and potentially some degree of intentional design choice specific to Ganondorf's presentation in this particular game.

Discussion below the jump, just for the sake of not stretching out people's dashboards. No worries about spoilers: none of this is story-relevant.

So! To give a very broad strokes bit of coverage on the wide and varied nonsense that is 3D modeling, this is a case of Topology. The basic thrust is that topology is the overall structure and layout of the mesh that makes up the 3D model's various shapes. The lower the polygon count on that mesh, the more angular its structure and the less capacity for deformation it has. The higher the polygon count, the smoother its structure and the greater its capacity for deformation. The trade-off, however, is that low-poly models are easier for a game engine to render. High-poly models are a massive drain on processing power, to say nothing if they're built inefficiently with a bunch of wasted geometry bogging things down.

Here's an example of a low-poly model on the left and a high-poly model on the right.

So when you want to make a character emote, you're basically grabbing a bunch of those polygons around the face and moving them around to shape the face into the desired expression. If you don't have a lot of polys to play with, it causes folding and tearing issues where the model and its textures do some pretty wonky shit.

Something both BoTW and ToTK have going for them is that they're actually very low-poly games, which is extremely helpful in making the games run as smoothly as they do given the world size and seamless loading. The lighting and texture work do A TON of heavy lifting to make the game look as good as it does. Really look at these models closely and you can see how angular they are. Look at Zelda's outstretched hand or how sharply light falls across the character's features. In the bottom right, notice how you can see the sharp points that make up Zelda's shoulders? They're not rounded; they're angled just enough to give the general illusion of a curve at a glance. Same goes for her eyes; you can count the angles that make up the shape of her eye but, at a distance and at a glance, they look big, round, and doleful.

Something you can also notice is when characters talk, a lot of them have little to no facial deformation. Mineru, for example, basically has a one-hinge Muppet mouth outside of pre-rendered cutscenes. A lot of characters' eyes are basically painted onto their faces and switch between static texture shapes as opposed to being fully rendered and animated orbs modeled into their heads.

Ganondorf actually has a fairly complex character model, especially compared to Link or Zelda, but he doesn't have a lot of model deformation. Basically the only parts of his head that move are his eyes/brows and mouth/jaw. If you look closely around his eyes you can see they're rendered basically as triangles. There's only two or three points along their shape the model can deform at. Further, since the rest of his face doesn't really deform when he emotes, it means the only thing that really moves are those small key elements. Which yields moments like this:

The animators are basically pushing his expression as much as they are actually capable of with this model's limited structure. See the hard fold in the lower eyelid, or the fact that his teeth aren't attached to anything inside his jaw? It does the job though; it overall looks good and, in the moment this scene happens, really adds something to the unsettling nature of what's going down.

I mentioned before that there may be a certain intent as well. Something specific to Ganondorf in this iteration is that, more than ever, he's become an Oni. Ganondorf's character design has slowly been leaning toward more Japanese-specific visual concepts over the past few appearances but he's gone full yokai for ToTK. Not just in his build, but in his clothing and weaponry. Dude is swinging around a kanabo for the first time ever in the franchise.

In Japanese mythology and Noh theater, a Red Oni basically functions as the embodiment of all the worst parts of mankind. They're greedy, brutal, cruel monsters who revel in causing destruction. If you want to look at their good aspects, it's traits like passion, ambition, and a wild spirit. But, overall, they're the bad guys. Ganondorf is 100% depicted as a Red Oni in ToTK. So when you keep that in mind, add in the implications of what Ganondorf just did in that scene, and consider the traditional appearances of a Red Oni...

...then that face-breaking grin makes a lot more sense.

[sabersandsnipers]

A Trap Lies Ahead

Request:

How would romanced Astarion react to Tav (probably a bard Tav) offering to use themself as bait to lure out one of Astarion's sibling vampire spawn? Like, instead of just running into Dal and Petras, Tav preforms at where Astarion says are frequent haunts of his siblings, with Tav basically making themself seem like an easy target. Just an idea for a scenario.

You stare at your reflection in the standing mirror. Astarion flits around you, a tape measure hanging around his neck. His actions are precise and practiced, and you notice the focus in his gaze. 

His confidence does nothing to cure your nerves, though. After brainstorming for hours on how to lure one of his fellow spawn in for questioning, you didn’t think offering yourself as bait would be something to consider. You were even more surprised that Astarion even agreed it. But he’s determined to corner another vampire and get answers. 

Astarion lines the tape up with one of your arms, and you shiver as his fingertips brush against your skin. His gaze meets yours briefly. He studies you for a moment, and you hope he doesn’t notice the fear crawling within you. 

But centuries of studying people has made him an expert at reading expressions. He lets his touch linger on your skin a moment longer, a small gesture of comfort. You know he senses the worry in you. 

A few minutes later he pauses in front of you. You glance down at him from the pedestal he put you on.

“I have all the measurements I need,” he tells you. He plays with the measuring tape in his hands. “I’ll get to work on the dress.” 

His eyes flit around nervously, and he’s unable to meet your gaze. Your hands have started shaking at the thought of baring yourself to the danger ahead, and you know anxiety has started to grip him as well. You tilt his chin up, forcing him to look at you. 

“We’ll get through this,” you say, as much to yourself as to him. 

He sighs, but his stance remains tense. He steps forward a bit and buries his face in your chest, inhaling your scent. You lace your fingers in his curls and press a kiss to top of his head. 

“I’m sorry I’m putting you through this,” he says. Your heart clenches at the hurt in his voice. This is as much torture for him as it is for you. 

You cradle his face in your hands, stroking your thumb along his cheekbone. His eyelids flutter closed at the sensation. 

“I trust you, Astarion. And we have to do something. We can’t just wait for them to come to us,” you tell him, hoping your words will ease some of his guilt. 

He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your palm. His eyes meet yours, a new determination settling within them. 

“I will be close by, love,” he says. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

A smile pulls at your lips, and your body warms at his protectiveness. “I know. I just worry you might do your job too well with how that dress is gonna look,” you joke. 

He lets out a breathy laugh. “I will admit you’re going to have to look irresistible, but you don’t even need a dress to do that in my opinion.” 

Your cheeks flush with heat. “As long as you’re the only one that  gets to touch me by the time the night’s over.” 

His hands grip your hips and lift you up to place you before him. His gaze now looks down on you, but the way he looks at you doesn’t make you feel smaller. 

“If they lay a hand on you, they will know a different fear by the time I’m done with them.” His words are hard but his expression is soft. You can’t help the shiver of excitement that runs through you at his promise. 

His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling your forehead against his. You let out a breath at his proximity, savoring the way his thumb strokes the sensitive skin on your neck. The stress that had gripped you so tightly before has vanished with Astarion’s words. 

And you can’t help but feel sorry for any enemy that has the guts to touch Astarion’s mate.

[badasbebi]

imagination's curse

navigation

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.

✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp

✦ word count: 6k

✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)

✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!

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Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you. 

You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself.  You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.

"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"

Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile. 

"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."

"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new. 

She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over. 

"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of  the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.

 "He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.

You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes. 

She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."

The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.

"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.

Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth. 

The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."

As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.  

A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say. 

"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.

You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever." 

After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour. 

"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."

"Yeah, definitely," you lie. 

"Awesome! Talk to you later, then." She smiles, and you know she's lying too.

Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla. 

"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.

You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and adjust your hood, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.

As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.

Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your room, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.

In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.

 Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.  

Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?

Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.

You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones.

You pay the driver and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.

After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.

The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening. 

Finally, your apartment building comes into view.  You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.

As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.

The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.

Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri. 

Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.  

For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent  about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.

Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack. 

"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.

Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.

"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.

Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.

"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."

"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.

She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"

And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one. 

You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."

You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you. 

"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this. 

"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"

Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."

"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.

You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.

You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.  

That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.

You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.

"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.

Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused. 

The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.

You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.

"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.  

She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"

You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"

Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke. 

"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."

As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.

You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this." 

The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face. 

"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.

"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.

"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.

"How do you know that?"

She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."

"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?

"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.

"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter. 

"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun." 

The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.

 Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.

The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no. 

"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.

"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to.  Your desire is too strong.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"

You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire.   "I—um—whatever you had in mind." 

Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.  

Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.

"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that. 

"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."

The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief.  "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.

She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.

"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."

Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."

With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.

"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.

You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.

She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"

"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name. 

"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.

"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty. 

She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.

"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh. 

She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.

"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles. 

"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again. 

Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you. 

"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."

She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing. 

Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.

"Something wrong?"

"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud. 

"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it." 

You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness.  You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.  

Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.

You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.

"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.

She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.

A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.

She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.

"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.

Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.

She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.

"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.

You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you. 

"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.

She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.

"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.

She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.

"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks. 

"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.

She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.  

"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.

"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face. 

Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality? 

"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.

She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.

"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."

She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.

"So easy to please," she teases.

"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly. 

Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.

"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.

"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek. 

A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.

"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."

You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.

One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much. 

"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit. 

You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.

She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you. 

"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."

You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak. 

"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.

Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey. 

"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness. 

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #11

[Mermay Special Part 1 a/n This is an interactive story, your choice continues it, so choose wisely!]

Trusting a stranger always leads to misery.

When you heard about the new student at your college, you were under the impression they'd never be someone you'd have much contact with. There were enough other students that would flock to a pretty person with undeniable charms and a charismatic, albeit a bit foreign, way of living.

So when they entered your lecture, spotted you across the room, and went straight for your row despite all the open seats, you were completely unprepared for them to ask to sit next to you. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, they started chatting and asking for a pen from you, everyone else wanting to give them what they asked for, but they waited patiently for you to fulfill their request. 

From then on, they'd ignore the mass of people begging for attention, only focusing on you and you alone. You never actually saw them take notes or study, but they'd chat you up after class and ask you to hang out. It was honestly pretty weird, but although you didn't ask to be their friend, not all of the time spent together was bad. 

However, even though you asked around about this new student, nobody—not even the groupies—seemed to know much about them once they were asked. And when you questioned them directly about their lives and very basic information, the topic always got shifted to something else. It was always a natural change of topic, nothing to be concerned about, but your questions were never answered. 

Your new friend certainly was a strange one, and yet, when they picked you up one morning from your dorm, you weren't alarmed when they invited you to visit their home country with them. They said you were the only true friend they ever made, and they'd like for you to visit their home while on break and meet their family. They had everything planned, and you had time. It was just for a week. What could go wrong?

You couldn't have known that "home country" meant another world. Like many others, you thought magic was a fantasy concept, but you didn't have the time to process your shock or ask questions as your friend wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you through the magic portal they had created. 

You heard and felt the splashing of water, a cool sensation enveloping you, and the pressure of the arm around you fading. It felt much longer than it was until the tension faded, and you took a deep breath, noticing how everything behind your closed eyelids seemed to darken. When you finally opened them, you were face to face with your "friend", yet... someone completely different.

Their looks had always been immaculate, but in the dim, fluorescent lighting and the strong dark blue contrast, they were even more ethereal. They grinned when they noticed your attention, bubbles escaping from their mouth, making you realize you were underwater. Immediately, you clasped your hands over your mouth, trying to hold in the air, but with a confused look, your friend pulled them off, laughing as they asked what you were doing. 

Somehow, you could hear them, loud and clear, and before you noticed your carelessness, you breathed in, but the feeling of drowning you expected never came. Your friend laughed some more as they pulled you upwards, and your eyes fell to their hips as shimmering scales greeted you on a long fishtail. You could not believe your eyes until your friend pointed out your own tail. 

Even in a body of water, you felt like a fish on land, awkward, unable to move much on your own. You held on tight to your friend, and they didn't seem to mind, navigating you smoothly through the water and in front of a reflecting surface so you could see yourself in your whole merfolk glory. It was hard to take in the image of you that mirrored your every move, but it just wasn't you. Your friend watched quietly, a satisfied smile on their lips as you moved around, still as clumsy as a toddler.

You had yet to work through the discovery of magic and the change of your body when your friend decided it was time to meet their family, and you still couldn't do much about your inability to move around freely. You had to rely on your friend entirely, and when they opened the door to the room you woke up in, you saw even more darkness awaiting you. Without them, you'd genuinely be stuck in this place, unable to go home on your own and uncomfortable in your own body and in an environment that didn't greet you warmly like you expected a family home to. 

You had no choice but to put your trust in your friend.

Allowing them to lead you through the corridors, you at least figured out how to move, although it cost you a lot of strength and felt unnatural to you. But at least you weren't alone, and your friend encouraged and praised you for your progress. It was pretty dark, but your friend's hand never left yours, so it wasn't as frightening as you thought.

It was a big shock when suddenly, you two turned into a corridor, and a large hall opened up in front of you with blinding lights shining down on you. You had to blink a few times before you could make out the faces of hundreds of other merfolk waiting and crowding around you two, and suddenly, you felt like the new student everyone wanted to meet. 

But at least you weren't alone, although your friend's attention was no longer on you. 

Instead, they faced two imposing figures sitting on coral thrones with crowns raking from their silvery hair. You grew even more nervous, clinging to your friend when they suddenly let go of you, leaving you stranded in the middle of the room to swim up to the stately mermaid and merman, greeting them with a hug. However, their gazes fixated on you again after greeting your friend, and when they spoke, you initially couldn't understand the language.

"So that's your choice?" the pretty mermaid asked your friend, glancing at you disappointedly. 

"Are you sure you want to marry into this family, human?" the merman next to her asked, addressing you. Your friend returned to your side, wrapped their arm around your waist, and pulled you closer.

"What kind of question is that, Father? We love each other."

The number of double-takes you made with all these statements was possibly record-breaking, and you looked helplessly at your friend. However, they only smile at you encouragingly and with all eyes on you,

[audiovideodisco]

I know you, let me in.

Where you’re a doctor on House’s diagnostic team, and the end of a particularly hard case causes a severe panic attack.

cw: panic attacks, medicine and medical jargon, dissociation, breathing difficulties

word count: 1.2k

requested?: no

sfw?: yes

ship: reader x wilson

characteristics: n/a

It’s the end of a long case, your patient was rapidly deteriorating and for a while it was touch and go. After a few days of that spiralling hell hole, House managed to connect the dots of their symptoms and save their life, with the help of you and the other ducklings.

You sat on a bench in the hallway, just short of the DDX office. You felt like you couldn’t catch your breath, clutching a hand to your heart as if it might help your lungs take a fucking chill pill - it didn’t.

After a few minutes, it had gotten worse, a lot worse. At least it felt that way. Your vision was swimming, your chest was burning and your lungs were screaming for air, as if you were trapped in a room without oxygen. There were faint voices, but you had no idea if they were coming from around you, or if they were fabrications of your mind. There was pressure on your shoulders, pushing you- no, pulling you? You couldn’t tell that either. Suddenly you felt yourself falling miles down, but that same pressure appeared to cushion your fall.

“Hey- can you hear me? [L/N]? Get me some diazepam, quickly!” Wilson shouted to Cameron and then to Chase,

“Get me a resus bag-“ Within a minute, he had both, injecting the diazepam, while Chase used the resus bag to help regulate your breathing. The diazepam began to work, and the help breathing allowed your body to stop hyperventilating. After a while, Chase moved the bag off of your face, pushing your hair away to check for any injuries when you fell down from the bench. He looked at your eyes with his light, and noticed your pupils responding slowly to the light.

“I think they’ve dissociated… We need to get them out of this bloody corridor.”

Wilson and Cameron nodded in agreement, Wilson sliding his arms under your legs and back, lifting you up and taking you to his office, placing you on the couch as gently as he could.

“Are they alright?” Cameron asked, shifting nervously on her heels.

“Yeah. They’re… Physically, they’ll be alright. I’m going to wait for them to come back around.” Wilson basically mutters, turning the light off and turning on a lamp in the corner.

“Don’t you need us to-“ Chase started, but Wilson stopped him,

“Uh- no, no… I’m just going to get some paperwork done while I monitor them. They’ll be okay. I’ve got the resus bag if I need it.”

“Shouldn’t we admit them?”

“No- they’d walk out and never come back. Especially over a panic attack.” Wilson says, closing his blinds to make sure House wasn’t able to nosey around if he was still here.

“How did you know it was a panic attack?”

“I’ve… I’ve seen it before. Although not that bad. They made me promise not to tell anyone. Doesn’t matter when you were both there to see it.”

Your fellow doctors nod and look at each other, feeling a little guilty you felt you have to hide it from them.

“Call if you need anything.” Cameron offered, before leaving and shutting the door with a soft click behind them.

Wilson’s gaze moved from the door to you, seeing how exhausted you looked.

“[Y/N]?”

Wilson wasn’t able to bring himself to do any paperwork, he was too worried about you. Instead, when he received no answer, he walked over to the couch and sat on the arm, letting his hand reach down to your face. Your eyelids twitched a little as you stared at nothing, and it made his heart clench at the sight of you suffering. His fingers lightly stroked your cheek as he looked down at you, lying on the couch. He hoped the gentle touch might help you escape your own mental prison, he wasn’t complaining that he had to be so close to you, he just wished it wasn’t in this situation.

After a little while, you began to come back to earth, feeling super disoriented and groggy.

“Hey… there they are… you feeling alright? Breathing okay? [Y/N]?”

“Why- When did I come to your office? I remember being on the bench and then- then I couldn’t breathe…”

Wilson hadn’t stopped gently stroking your face, listening to you intently.

“You had a pretty intense panic attack. Needed diazepam and a resus bag to bring you out of it. Then you sort of, just, dissociated… Chase checked your pupillary reflex…”

“Shit… I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, love, it happens. All that matters is that you’re okay.”

Your heart almost stopped at his words… love?

“Uh, Wilson…?”

“Yes, [L/N]?”

“You’ve never called me that before.”

“What? [L/N]? Yes I have-“

“No… love.”

Wilson went bright red and suddenly his fingers on your face stopped in their tracks, and you immediately regretted saying anything.

“It’s… It’s okay, Wilson, I-“

“I’m so sorry, [Y/N], I really hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” He said, clearly annoyed with himself as he moved away from the couch, pacing a little.

You sit up, feeling your face where his fingers were.

“I don’t mind…”

Wilson stopped in his tracks and looked at you.

“You don’t?”

“No- I- well…”

Wilson walked slowly over to sit on the couch next to you, turning a little so he could look at you, your knees touching.

“I think, maybe I should’ve said this a long time ago, fuck it, I really like you. If I’ve misunderstood then we can pretend I never said-“

Your eyes widen and you feel your heart racing again, this time more pleasant than the last.

“You do?”

“Yeah. House has been bullying me about it for months. I’m surprised you never noticed.”

“I just assumed he was trying to get a rise out of me…”

The tension in the room grew thick as your eyes met, his hand resting on your knee, then slowly gravitating along your thigh. Your faces got closer as you both leaned in without much thought, breath fanning against each other’s faces, until…

Wilson closed the gap, pressing his lips to yours and his other hand threading into your hair. The kiss was soft but passionate, and as your breathing grew erratic again, you gripped his shirt, a little scared, but not pulling away.

In response, he moved his hands under your thighs, pulling you onto his lap, then gently rubbing circles into the small of your back, helping you to relax again. Kissing him a little deeper, a smile spreads across your face into the kiss.

Eventually you both pull back, resting your forehead against his.

“So… can I take you out for dinner tonight? Or tomorrow if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“You sure you want this? I’m not the easiest person to- well- I’m kinda messed up…”

Wilson smiled with a small chuckle, putting his hands on your cheeks,

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He looked you in the eyes, moving closer and whispering softly against your lips, before kissing you again,

“I’ve got you.”

[whatt-the]

Something something mullet stan whoring himself out to you because you gave him basic human respect and kindness

Yeah. He's sure knows how he got here, pressed against your much softer skin. He knows it all too well.

How you offered to pay for the food he was previously planning to steal during rush hour at a local diner in your city.

How you made conversation with him while he sat across from you, leaning closer to him on your seat so he wouldn't need to strain his clearly overworked and abused vocal chords on answering you.

How you encouraged him to tell you more about himself, something he didn't expect himself to be so inclined to do- had you put a spell on him? Lying to you seemed like a bigger crime than all of the fraud and theft he'd ever done.

How you laughed at his little jokes, how you didn't seem to know he was at his lowest.

Well, he didn't seem to notice it either when he was around you. So much so that he made plans to meet with you later at the very same diner.

Oh how his heart skipped a beat when you held his hand as you guided him to the exit- after paying for his food, after being so careful when you noticed you'd touched on a sensitive topic for him while talking to him, after looking at him not with anger, not with disgust, not with pity- but instead with compassion.

He really didn't believe in love at first sight, you know? He didn't fall for any of that sappy stuff. But when he stared into your eyes with the most lovestruck gaze as you said your goodbyes, he knew. And he knew just as well as he knows now, with your gentle touch against him.

He didn't deserve you. He had it confirmed in his mind during your second meeting at the diner. He worked hard to earn the extra 20 dollars to make absolutely sure that he could afford to pay for you this time: he felt this desperate need to impress you that nothing but attraction could explain away. He could feel his pain and struggle melt into nothing whenever he talked to you, he could feel his heart racing, he could feel his eyes darting to places where they shouldn't-

He just couldn't help himself huh? Getting treated like person got him all worked up and much too bothered in his own clothes. But again, he couldn't help himself. He didn't remember the last time that he was treated with respect... did it ever even happen?

The rest of the date was a blur to him right now. His memory failed him like never before: he could think of nothing more than the current moment and how perfect it felt. It was foreign to poor little stanley, you see... to be caught in such a vulnerable and needy state. You continue to caress his sides as you slip your hands underneath his tshirt, leaning down to kiss him again. He kissed back with such fervor that you'd imagine you were his last meal on this earth.

You had found him to be quite lovely from the moment you first met. Even if his memory failed him, yours certainly didn't. You remembered the night well: how it started with you holding his hand again, to him confessing that you were beautiful to him, to him impulsively kissing you as you both left, which now led to him laying down on a motel bed, getting oh so sweetly ruined by you.

You really were making a mess of him, running your hands over his scars, kissing down his neck then back up at his lips, slowly pulling his pants down- letting him grind against you, calling him all sorts of different pet names. He felt like his heart was beating out of his chest, he was so very grateful.

And he planned on voicing it.

As you pulled back from him and sat directly atop his crotch, you could see the product of your work. He was panting, body exposed for your enjoyment alone, sweating, letting out little gasps of your name, eyelids tightly shut. Though, soon noticing you weren't advancing your contact with him any further, he'd opened his eyes slightly, with much effort- and there, staring at you with tears threatening to flow out, he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"Thank you-" his voice cracked as he spoke, "you're an angel"

Have a small sketch on the idea

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Whumptober 2024 No. 6- Not Realizing They're Injured/ "It's Not My Blood"

This one is a bit long, so I've put it under the cut!

Whumpee stumbled back into the base. They intended to pass everyone by and go straight to their room; they felt tired after that scuffle with Whumper's team.

“Hey, you're finally home,” Teammate said, “you could've said something.”

“Sorry,” Whumpee said, “I'm just really really tired.”

Teammate gave them a strange look. Whumpee shrugged it off and meant to move past them, but Teammate stopped them.

“Hang on,” they said, “Medic, can you come here for a sec?”

Medic closed their book and approached the pair. They looked Whumpee up and down.

“What are you hiding?” Medic asked sternly.

“Hiding?” Whumpee asked, “I’m not hiding anything…”

Teammate went to argue, but then their eyes landed on Whumpee’s shirt.

“Oh my gosh,” they whispered, “is that blood?”

“Blood?” Whumpee said, suddenly having trouble getting their words out.

They followed Teammate’s gaze and went pale. A deep red stain bloomed on their shirt, getting larger and larger.

“Huh, well, it’s not my blood,” Whumpee slurred.

Without warning they lurched forward. Medic and Teammate barely caught them.

“Help me get them to the med bay, then call Caretaker and Leader,” Medic ordered.

“Wha’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Teammate lied.

Teammate and Medic helped Whumpee onto an operating table.

“On an unrelated note, where were you this evening?” Teammate asked.

Whumpee’s head lolled to the side, their breathing becoming labored.

“I… I was…”

Caretaker and Leader came bursting in.

“Whumpee what the heck!?” Caretaker exclaimed.

They rushed to Whumpee’s side, as did Leader. Whumpee winced as Medic peeled back their shirt. A collective gasp from everyone. A huge stab wound pulsating red. Whumpee looked down at their own body.

“Huh, tha’s not good…”

“Don’t you dare-” Leader warned.

“Sorry…”

Whumpee’s eyes fluttered shut, and any shouts from their team became muffled and distant as they fell into unconsciousness.

…

Whumpee stirred as the harsh fluorescent lights of the med bay beamed through their eyelids. They groaned, eyes fluttering open, and they tried to sit up.

“Hey, hey! Easy, easy…”

A gentle but firm force pushed them back down. Whumpee’s vision cleared and saw Caretaker sitting by their bedside.

“This isn’t my room,” Whumpee croaked.

“Yeah no kidding, Sherlock,” Caretaker huffed, “you’re still in the med bay. You’re hurt, you need to stay down.”

Leader knocked on the door frame.

“Good, they’re awake,” they said, entering the room.

They sat down on Whumpee’s other side.

“What happened, Whumpee?” Leader asked.

“I don’t know!” Whumpee answered, “I was out, and there was a scuffle with Whumper’s group. I thought I managed to get out of there without getting hurt, but…”

Whumpee looked down at their bandaged side.

“Yeah…” they said.

“Where were you when you ran into them?” Leader prodded gently.

“I…uh...” Whumpee looked away sheepishly, “their base?”

Whumpee braced for the scolding they knew would come. And it most certainly did.

“WHUMPEE!” Leader shouted, “are you insane? Are you actually insane? What in blazes were you doing there!? You know not to go to a dangerous place like that alone! That is basic, common knowledge!”

“I know I know I know I’m sorry,” Whumpee said quickly, “I didn’t mean to go there. I just kinda… wound up there? I was following one of them, doing some recon, and we just ended up there.”

Leader didn’t look convinced.

“I’m telling the truth!” Whumpee protested, “and hey, now I can tell you guys where the base is!”

“Oh yeah?” Leader folded their arms across their chest, “where is it?”

“It was…” Whumpee paused, their head starting to swim, “I think it was… hang on it’s kinda fuzzy right now-”

“Leader, can’t you grill them later?” Caretaker asked sharply, “I’m surprised they’ve held a conversation this long. Save the interrogation for someone else.”

Leader huffed, standing.

“Where are you going?” Whumpee asked, eyes drooping.

“For a walk,” Leader snapped, “with the one person I can trust not to be an idiot. Myself!”

Leader stormed out, and Whumpee could hear the front door slam from all the way in the med bay.

“They hate me,” Whumpee sighed.

“Oh yeah, that’s why they’re so mad that you got hurt,” Caretaker deadpanned.

“I didn’t mean to find the base!” Whumpee said, “I thought the goon was heading to commit a crime or something, not go home!”

“What’s all that racket!?”

Whumpee and Caretaker exchanged a frightened look. Medic. If they thought Leader’s anger was bad, it had nothing on Medic’s.

“Whumpee!” Medic glared, entering the med bay, “I leave for five minutes and you’re already exciting yourself, don’t you know what bedrest means!?”

“Sorry,” Whumpee yawned.

“Look at you, you’ve already gotten yourself exhausted! For the love of all things good, settle down and go back to sleep!”

“You don’t gotta tell me twi…”

Whumpee trailed off, falling asleep before they could finish their sentence. Medic rolled their eyes and looked to Caretaker.

“Leader yelled at them, didn’t they?” Medic demanded.

Caretaker nodded silently.

“They’re next.” Medic promised.

Medic turned on their heel, muttering something along the lines of, “how is anyone supposed to get better around here” before heading out of the room.

Caretaker winced as the front door slammed a second time. They turned and took Whumpee’s hand, rubbing circles into it with their thumb. They were safe, that was all that mattered. The others could do to notice that.

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@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@electrons2006

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

I was thinking about Shadow Milk and thought it be cool if like he meets a cookie with similar powers as his... But like.. Dolls. Like they're powerful and can bring sentient life to inanimate dolls and toys they create that do their bidding to protect their creator. But in stark contrast to Shadow Milk, the other just wants to live a peaceful life...

Sorry, I needed to get this out of my head.

added a bit more to this since I got inspired, but here you go anon!

Requested Prompts #17 - 💓

It was a peaceful day within your realm, the toy-box. You, Golden Butter Cookie, had the ability to create dolls with sentient life out of almost nothing, you just needed some basic materials and boom! instant doll servants... You guess. You created this entire realm just to escape the pressure of your duties as one of the saviors of cookie kind, it was a stressful job, y'know? But... these days, you just remained in your realm. Many would call you a coward, or apathetic towards the fate of your people. But it would be a one against five battle! You can't win against your own strength times'd by five! But, even though you're hidden away. That doesn't stop certain annoyances from pestering you. You finished your walk over to the pile of dolls, crouching down to look at the cookie buried underneath them. " ...Shadow Milk Cookie," You began in a tired tone, your eyelids narrowed at him. " How many times have I told you to stop coming here? I already told you my answer." The blue-toned cookie underneath the pile of plushies grinned. " And I keep telling you that you'll change your mind once you see all the fun we're having!" He exclaimed, a light, sadistic glint shimmered in his eyes. You groaned, he was always like this, always so insistent. " I'm not interested, I've already seen what you and the others are now calling 'fun' and I have to say that it's rather boring." You rest your head in your hand, tilted at angle. Witches above you just wanted to get this over with so he'd leave you alone for the next week or so. " Oh come on! You can't seriously be saying that!" He whined, squirming underneath the pile. With a sigh, you released him from your security measures slowly. " Just come watch one of my shows! Then you'll see!" He looked almost desperate for a second before it was covered up with hopeful glee. And yet, as you always had. " I'd rather not, knowing what you're into these days." You'd say, rejecting his offer on the spot. You could see the flash of disappointment go through his eyes, but it soon disappeared. " Suit yourself!" He beamed, but what happened next was rather... different than how these things usually go. He grabbed your cheeks, then leaned in and planted an over-dramatic kiss on your forehead with an exaggerated 'mwah!'. He then let go, taking a step back with a wide grin on his face. " I'll be heading out now, but I'll be back like always! Love you!" Was all he left you with before he left the toy-box. To say you were surprised would be the least of it. You held your hand up to your forehead just to check if he'd done anything, but no, it was just a simple kiss. Yet it wasn't so simple, was it? he'd never done that before, it was new. You both hoped that he'd do it again the next time he visited, and that he wouldn't for fear of your feelings towards him becoming too complicated. Except what both you and he didn't know, was that this would be his last visit.

[wannaeatramyeon]

The Yakuza daughter! S/o x Gun basically made me fangirl as I imagine them being a power couple lol. I now wonder if you got part 2 in that like Goo just discover Gun ring on his hand and a photo of his fiancée/wife in his photo (I just imagine that he took a photo of s/o in a lingerie lol)

Ughhhh Sam, this idea is too fun. Here's a much much quicker follow up with a lot less Yakuza-ness (sorry 🙇🏻‍♀️).

Gun Park x Reader: After I do (feat Goo)

Goo finds out. Follow up to 'I do' fic here

"How was Japan?"

Goo watches Gun washing the blood from his hands. Something about Gun has changed. He seems... different. Goo couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was Japan. Maybe it's the guy just being a freakshow as per usual.

Gun side-eyes him. The response is clipped, short, singular.

"Fine."

"Not like you to take an extended leave."

"..."

The lack of answer doesn't deter Goo, all too used to his partner's silence. "Business or personal?"

"..."

"Anything I should worry about?"

"..."

"Are you planning anything?"

"..."

"Did you pick up my Sanrio-"

Gun thrusts his hands in the dryer, the blasts of air drowning out Goo's incessant questioning. Unfortunately, this doesn't last long enough. Nothing ever does once the blonde's curiousity is piqued.

As soon as the whirring stops, Goo opens his mouth once again and Gun finally responds. "No, no and no. Shut up."

Hmph. Looks like Goo won't get anything else from this asshole. With a glint in his eye, he asks his final question, "You owe me for covering your duties. Was Crystal always this annoying?"

Gun reluctantly smiles. "Yes."

.

.

"What does our big bad boss want?"

Gun scans his phone. The message from just moments ago wasn't anything of significance to their mission. Although. The selfie of you in a seductive pose and risque underwear might be a distraction.

He appreciates it for a beat longer then locks the device. "It's not our boss."

That's the end of that conversation. Or so he thought.

"Huh?" Goo's eyes dart over to him with increasing frequency and the car starts to swerve.

Gun will not die by his hand because this fucking maniac can't keep his eyes on the road. Begrudgingly, he elaborates, "It's personal."

The blonde's eyes bulge out at this admission, "During work hours? Who wants to text a mean bastard like you?"

For fuck's sake. Can't this fucking idiot ever mind his own business.

Goo continues, "Who the hell would even want to be friends with you? I hope you're not plotting anything against me..." A malicious snicker, "Or are you dating? You should introduce me to them, they must be a firecracker!"

Gun tunes out his partner, a skill he has long mastered.

But when his phone buzzes for the third time in as many minutes, with you no doubt sending yet another racy image, Gun has to physically restrain himself from looking (and internally curses you for your poor timing).

Goo tries to swipe at the phone. "Hey, let me text back!"

Gun moves it effortlessly out of arm's reach. "If you're not going to keep those eyes on the road, then I can just pluck them from your head."

"You're no fun." Goo pouts, narrowly missing driving into a ravine.

.

.

"Oppa~ do you want a bite of this sushi?"

"No."

"Are you sure? It's really delicious!"

"..."

"Just a little taste!"

"Come near me again, I'll jam the sushi and the chopsticks down your throat."

"Ahhh~! Goo, your friend is so mean!"

What the fuck? Gun seems to be in an even more sour mood than usual. The last time the both of them were at this Gangnam bar, Gun had no issues with the women. Someone to warm his bed for the night, he had figured.

This evening though? He didn't even bat an eyelid in their direction.

"Gun! You can at least be nice to these sweethearts!" Goo snaps.

"No." Gun replies simply, getting up to leave.

What a fucking weirdo, Goo thinks. Oh well, more sushi for me.

.

.

"Since when did you wear jewellery?"

Goo snatches Gun's left hand, pulling it up to his face and holding it so close he is cross-eyed behind his glasses.

He absolutely has not seen this before, his brows furrow at this very odd addition. A plain, silver-coloured ring wrapped around the fourth finger.

Yanking his hand back, Gun responds. "Since I want to."

"A plain ring? On that finger?" Goo trails after him as he strides off, "You know what that means right? Wait..."

Goo completely stops in his tracks, "A couple band? Engagement? Are you...?"

Gun completely ignores him, increasing the distance between them.

No fucking way, right? The simple band on his hand is definitely something, but-

There's just-

No. fucking. way.

Who the fuck would be able to put up with Gun Park?

.

.

"Who's that?" Goo peers at the picture of the smokeshow on Gun's phone, catching a glimpse just before he tucks it into his pocket.

Having that image is certainly... a choice. Who is she though? A new k-pop idol? Gun doesn't seem like the type that would have an image of an idol or a celebrity as their background.

"My wife."

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Focus." Gun commands, as a gang of men come at them with knives and baseball bats.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Goo repeats, ducking to avoid a slash.

"I said, focus." Gun easily tanks a couple hits before returning some of his own.

"WHAT THE-" Goo's words are cut short as some thug takes advantage of his diverted attention and knocks his glasses off.

"FUCK- Fine." Goo elbows the guy in the solar plexus then easily plucks the baseball bat from his now slack grip. "Let me just borrow this~"

.

.

"You must be Goo Kim!"

Turning on the hostess charm, you note how Goo has to almost literally pick his jaw off the floor with your entrance.

Gun leans against the doorframe, observing with quiet smugness at the reaction. You had dropped in at the HNH offices to join Gun for lunch. Usually he would pick a better time and place but the level of questioning from Goo had already surpassed absurd levels ever since he found out Gun was married.

The last few weeks had been hell.

"When did you get married?! You didn't invite me to the wedding? I wasn't your best man? Tell me, who was it! I'll beat them up! When can I meet your bride? Or are you scared I'll charm her away?"

And Gun had promised you a partnership of equals. With your short time in South Korea, you had more than enough proved your usefulness and loyalty. It's about time he cuts you in on the Crew business.

He surmises this is a way to kill two birds with one stone.

You're Gun's wife? This absolute knockout? With him? That fucking boring asshole?

Goo would have thought this is Gun's twisted idea of a prank if he hadn't found out that the guy barely had a sense of humour a long time ago. That time had almost ended in stitches for Goo.

"Mrs. Park!" He gives you a theatrical bow, "I've been so looking forward to working with you!"

"Just call me Y/N," you giggle.

Goo takes your hand, pressing a loud smooch to the top of it. Gun's entire body tenses at the contact. This does not go unnoticed by you.

You retract your hand back, subtly wiping the kiss away, "I can't wait to get stuck into all the details."

"Of course, Y/N!"

"There won't be any trouble from you, right, Goo?"

"Princess, don't you trust me?"

You look Goo dead in the eye, seeing through the fake hurt on his face and dropping your own act.

"No. And," you grab onto his crotch, digging in your nails as Goo yelps, "If there is even a whiff of anything amiss then I'm coming after your balls." Your grip tightens as he tries without success to push you off, "Got it?"

"ACK!! Fuck! Got it, got it!"

You release him, relishing at his squeal.

"If you've broken anything," Goo scowls, struggling to stand and cradling himself tenderly. "Ugh, you two are fucking made for each other. Psychos."

Gun arrives at your side with a smirk, he guides you by the small of your back, leading you out.

"Not bad," he murmurs into your ear, "You were wasted in Japan."

[hamsterclaw]

Weighted

You don’t know if you needed Namjoon, but he comes to you anyway. Part of the Love AU, read the rest here.

Pairing: Namjoon x afab! reader

Warnings: Sex, swearing, mention of self-harm

Rating: 18+

Word count: 1.1k

There are weighted days, like today, when the world sweeps by outside your window and you feel inconsequential.

Your presence is irrelevant, you’re a speck of matter in the universe, and it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference whether you are here or not.

You’re curled up in the duvet you dragged from your bed, scattering the clutter on your coffee table in its synthetic wake, face pressed to the glass.

The height of your apartment makes you feel a vertiginous swoop in your insides as you take in the city below you.

You’re too numb to feel anything but the basics. Hot, cold, hard, soft. Higher emotions escape you when you’re like this.

There’s a buzzing of your intercom that you’re trying to ignore.

It’s probably some parcel with something you thought you needed before you’ve come to know better.

Nothing can fill the void.

The sound of a key in the lock makes you groan and pull the duvet over your head.

There’s only one person with a key to your apartment, and it’s not a fuckboy that you need right now.

The door opens and you don’t look, buried under the textural swirls of your duvet, a sea of ivory.

There’s a few steps, the clatter of keys in the dish in your hallway.

Now he learns to put his keys in the right place.

One divorce too late.

The footsteps stop right next to you but you keep your eyes tightly closed, so tight the firebursts behind your eyelids are blinding anyway.

Kim Namjoon sighs, the impatience he puts in the sound making you feel the first emotion you’ve felt in days.

It’s anger.

You try to push it away but it burns bright.

‘Did you slit your wrists under there?’ he asks. He pats the fluffy bulk enclosing you half-heartedly.

‘Take any pills?’ he continues.

Like the anger, Namjoon is getting difficult to ignore.

You pull the covers off, head surfacing from the softness, re-entering the world where everything is too bright, too loud and too goddamn annoying.

‘Do you need something Namjoon?’ you ask, flat.

He doesn’t answer at first, eyes scanning your face.

Finally he says, ‘Need a fuck?’

You blink up at him.

Namjoon sighs again. ‘When did you last eat?’

He doesn’t wait for an answer this time, turning and heading in the direction of your tiny kitchenette.

There’s unnecessarily aggressive clanging of pots, even the hiss of the kettle seems louder, a scream of discontent cutting through the fog of your detachment.

Your traitorous stomach rumbles, but you can’t bring yourself to get up and go to the kitchen.

You close your eyes instead.

When you dip back into the world, Namjoon’s sitting on your couch.

‘I’m not heating this up again, so you’d better eat,’ he says, not looking at you.

It feels like you can’t move, the heaviness of everything presses you down.

Eventually, Namjoon gets up and sits next to you on the window seat.

‘Open,’ he says, holding out a mouthful of noodles.

It’s too big, he always makes each forkful the size he would eat himself, like he hasn’t noticed that you eat smaller bites.

It’s delicious though.

You wipe the drip of broth off your chin on your t-shirt, and to his credit, he doesn’t even blink.

Namjoon scans channels on your TV whilst he feeds you, you can hear snippets behind your head.

Canned laughter, classical piano, tension and an explosion.

Namjoon sets the empty bowl down.

‘Want to take a shower, baby?’ he asks.

His tone is gentle, coaxing.

‘You’ll feel better.’

He places a warm hand on the small of your back, leading you to your bathroom.

You’re not wearing much but he helps you out of your clothes anyway, puts the shower on.

His clothes land heavily on the floor, the denim of his jeans solid against the tiles.

He tests the water, tugs you in next to him, shielding you from the fall of water with his own body.

There’s the squirt of soap, then his warm hands smoothing over your shoulders, brushing over the rounds of your breasts.

Your nipples harden under his palms, there’s no way he hasn’t noticed, but he carries on, hands kneading your back.

He’s semi-hard, you note distantly, his cock rising a little away from his body as he cleans you.

He reaches between your legs, thumb over your clit, fingers sliding along your folds. You arch your back a little, and his cock hardens even more.

Namjoon kneels to slide soap down your thighs, behind your knees, and you put your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself.

When he comes back up he’s fully hard, cock pressing into your belly.

You curl your hand around him instinctively, and you both watch the head of his cock appearing and disappearing in your fist as you stroke him.

Namjoon wraps his hand around yours, uses his other hand to turn the water off.

‘Let’s dry off,’ is all he says.

He wraps you in a towel, grabs one for himself.

The way he tents the terrycloth makes your mouth water.

Lust joins anger in your newly re-acquired library of emotions, and the combination of both is so acutely Namjoon in your experience that you revel in the familiarity of it.

Namjoon dries you off in front of your mirror, and you both watch as he plays with your breasts until you’re breathless.

He spreads your legs, delves his fingers in between, shows you your own arousal coating his fingers.

He’s dropped the towel, his cock nudges between your ass cheeks, the promise of filling you up tantalising.

Namjoon tugs you onto your bed, grabs a pillow, slips it under your hips.

‘Watch,’ he says, voice velvety.

His cock juts from him now, full and hard and seeking, as he lifts your hips and pushes into you.

You grasp the sheets underneath you as he fills you, his hardness thick and hot.

Namjoon snaps his hips forward, and you moan.

‘That’s it,’ he says, his voice thick, slurred. ‘Show me that you like it, baby.’

‘Come close,’ you pant, and he dips his torso so you can curl an arm around his shoulders, hold on to him whilst he fucks you so well everything else falls away from this moment.

There’s nothing but the slap of his sex against yours, his mouth on yours when he finally decides to kiss you, the hot spill of his cum inside you as your cunt contracts to take him, over and over.

There’s nothing but Namjoon, and you, and fuck what a mess you both have made.

‘Happy anniversary, baby,’ he says, face buried in your hair.

There’s the prick of tears in your eyes that you blink away before he can see.

Then, the third emotion, always inextricably linked with Kim Namjoon in your mind.

Sadness, lingering long after the anger and the lust have gone.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Pet

@jegulus-microfic February 18 Word count 848

Previous part First part

“I don’t know what you mean.” Regulus’s fingers moved towards his wand. 

“Reg, you forget I was there when you were with James at Hogwarts. I’ve also seen what Remus’s fists can do. Those bruises were perfect. Admit it, you basically just had a week’s holiday with your honey bun while we planned a fight.” Evan hadn’t even batted an eyelid. He looked so calm. Regulus was shitting himself. 

“So? What are you going to do about it?” Regulus’s emotionless mask was firmly in place, but he could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

“Nothing,” Evan shrugged. “You saved Barty. If you’re going behind the Dark Lords’s back to hang out with a bunch of know order members, you must have a good reason why.” 

“I really was captured. Sirius appeared when we were taking the supply house and ambushed us. He tied me up and took out the others.” He felt the need to explain. Evan was his oldest friend, and he’d always had a way of getting Regulus to spill his guts. “That mad Auror, Moody, tortured me for a while but gave up when I didn’t talk.”

“So they used Potter against you?” Evan interrupted.  Regulus nodded. 

“Yeah, him and Sirius.” He paused, debating on telling him the rest. “Dumbledore came to see me.”

“Shit Reg.” Evan gaped. 

“He told me either I help them or they’d send me to Azkaban.”

“So what are you doing for them then?” Evan questioned. 

“Information. They want to know who’s saying what and any major plans that come up. Are you going to give me away?” He had to as. He couldn’t leave without knowing if he was safe or not. 

“No, Reg. I won’t say anything.” Evan sighed and dragged a hand through his hair as he mulled something over. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually care about what Voldemort and that lot believe. I only got this thing,” He held up his left arm, letting his sleeve fall to reveal the snake and skull tattoo that matched Regulus’s own. “Because my father forced me. If I’d had a choice in the matter, I’d probably have taken Barty and Pan and gone to France or something.” He shrugged, not bothered at sharing the information that would sign his death warrant if Voldemort heard him. Regulus gave him a sad smile. 

“Same here.” Evan snorted. 

“Wow, our parents are dicks.” They both burst into laughter. “Are you getting immunity out of it if that side wins?” Evan asked, looking like he really wanted to know the answer. 

“Yeah, if I give them enough good information,” Regulus told him truthfully. 

“Do you think they’d do the same for me and Barty if I help you?” Evan shuffled nervously. 

“I can ask. If I ask James, he’ll do everything he can.” He couldn’t quite believe that Evan had felt the way he did. That was the curse of the mark. Everyone was too scared to say what they really felt in case it got back to Voldemort. Because he’d just have them disposed of, he had plenty of followers to replace those he had killed.  

They walked back through to Evans's bedroom, closer than they had been before, a new bond firmly formed. 

They were greeted upon their return by a grumpy Barty and a mass of silver-blonde hair. 

Pandora, Evan’s twin sister, was sitting on the bed next to Barty, patting him on the head like a disgruntled pet. 

“Evan, she’s doing it again,” Barty complained as he tried to evade Pandora’s hand.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Barty. You love it when I pet you.” Pandora said, smiling happily at him. “Here, have a chocolate frog.” She passed him the treat. Barty appeared somewhat appeased. At least he didn’t complain again. 

“What do you want, Pan?” Evan asked. She stood from the bed and floated over to them, her feet bare. 

“Father wants to speak with you. Hi Reg,” She added as she wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his cheek. He could feel the oily residue left from her lipstick. There’d be a perfect lip mark on his face. 

“Hello, Pandora. How are you?” He asked her politely. He tensed when she snuggled her head into his neck. 

“Oh, you know, bored. You boys all get to go out and have fun, and I have to be the perfect Rosier princess and sit in my ivory tower.” She sighed dramatically. 

“Oh, shut up, Pan, we all know you sneak you’re girlfriend in here all the time.” Evan teased his sister. Pandora winked at him and removed herself from Regulus’s neck. 

“I’ll leave you alone. Goodbye, darling.” She waved at Barty and blew him a kiss before smiling wickedly at Evan as she left.

“I swear if she didn’t keep me in such a good supply of sweets, I’d find her very annoying.” Barty grumped as he licked melted chocolate from his fingers. “So, Reg.” He said, looking up at Regulus and sucking a final finger. “You a spy then or what?”   

Next part

[theyluvangel]

High Thoughts - Bang Chan x f!reader

requested!

warnings: friends to lovers, reader smokes weed, making out, protected sex, probably grammatical errors

wc: 1.5k

kinda changed the prompt but I hope whoever requested this likes it!

the ending is kinda lazy

MDNI

I lay back on my couch, setting the mostly finished blunt down on the ashtray. The dizzying feeling surrounds me, as my mind begins to play tricks on me. Smoking weed like this used to be a daily occasion, but thanks to Chan, my best friend, I haven’t smoked in a while. But also thanks to Chan, I'm smoking again. How ironic? Chan, whom I’ve known for several years has always been by my side. At first I dismissed my feelings, but now I can't suppress them. I like Chan, I love him. I want nothing more than for him to see me the same way I see him. The weed usually helps me forget, but now I can’t stop thinking about him in my high state. I should text him! With shaky hands I reach for my phone. I hold my phone in front of my face, struggling to unlock it. I pull up Chan's contact, pressing on it to message him. I keep tapping the screen, struggling to make sense of whats on it. My phone begins buzzing in hand, and then I hear a voice. 

“Hello? y/n, why’d you call me this late?” Oh shit, I called Chan. 

“Channie! I have some very important questions for you!” I reply, my words slurring ever so slightly. “Okay! First question! If I asked you to, would you make out with me?” I ask.

“Uhm, Y/n? Are you high right now?” chan asks, obviously caught off guard by my question.

“Whattt, nooo, why would you think that? I just want to know for future reference! Because i’d looovee to make out with you!” my words begin slurring even more, as I try to make my point. “Y’know Chan you are just such an amazing person, and I love you so much. I really wished you could like me the same way I liked you.” I let out a sigh as a wave of tiredness hits me. “Well Channie we’ve had a lovely conversation but I gotta go to sleep now. This weed makes me tired.” i add a yawn to emphasize my tiredness, as I fumble around with my phone trying to end the call.

“Y/n! Wait I-” before he can finish what he was going to say, I find the end call button and press it in a swift motion. I lay my phone back down on the table, as I make myself more comfortable on the couch. I lay my head down, unable to even comprehend the conversation I just had. I just lay there, thinking. My eyelids eventually fall shut, and I doze off into a weed induced nap.

I awake to beams of sunlight shining in through my large living room windows. I look around my living room, beginning to recall why I even fell asleep on the couch. My eyes land on the pair of sneakers by my door mat. The sneakers don’t belong to me, they could only belong to the one person I don’t want to see right now. “Oh! Hey y/n you're up. I let myself in, I hope you don’t mind.” Chan says as he sits in the chair across from me. “Y’know you really worried me with your call last night. I figured I’d  come over to talk.” he says, staring at the floor.

“Oh Chan…” I pause, taking a deep breath. “Look, i’m sorry about the call last night. Obviously I was high. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I understand if you maybe don’t feel the same way about me, and that's fine.” I say, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in.

“Y/n, I wish you had told me how you felt earlier. I’ve basically loved you since I met you. I never said anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we had. He lets out, his eyes finally meeting mine.

“You mean that?” I ask quietly. I never would’ve thought Chan of all people could love me as more than a friend.

“Yeah, I mean it Y/n. and to answer your question, I would make out with you. Only if you asked though” Chan says with a smile.

“Well that is not what I was expecting to hear, but I’m glad I did.” I say as I rise to my feet, making my way over to Chan. “Chan, will you make out with me?” I say as I bring my face closer to his and drape my arms around his shoulders.

“Well since you asked so nicely.” He says, bringing his face to mine, our lips connecting in a passionate kiss. Chan pulls me on his lap so I’m straddling his hips. Our lips stay connected as Chan's hands find a home on my waist, and my stay wrapped around his neck. My teeth pull at his lower lip, eliciting a deep groan from Chan. I grind my hips down on Chan's growing erection underneath me. Both of us groan at the friction, as I continue to grind my hips on to his own. “Fuck, you wanna take this to your bedroom?” Chan asks, finally separating his lips from my own. 

“Please Chan. you know where my room is.” I say without hesitation. Chan picks me up by my hips, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist to hold onto him. I connect our lips again, this time in a much for lustful and needy kiss. 

Chan pushes my bedroom door open and gently lays me down on the bed. “Are you sure you want this? We can always stop, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” chan says with a soft smile. 

“Chan you have no clue how long I’ve wanted this. If we need to stop I’ll tell you, okay?”

“Okay.” he responds, leaning down to trap my lips in another kiss. He sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, then he stands to remove his pants. I can’t help but stare at the gorgeous man in front of me. I sit up as well to pull off my shirt, and slip off my shorts. I leave my bra and underwear on, like Chan who left his boxers on as well. Chan gets back on the bed, leaning over me. He places a kiss on my forehead, before trailing his lips down my neck, and to my chest, leaving a trail of kisses. He stops above my bra, looking up at me for any sign of discomfort. I give him an encouraging nod, which is all he needs to know he can fully undress me. His skilled hands make their way to my back to unclasp my bra, allowing it to fall of. Chan grabs it and throws it onto the pile of our other clothes. Chan kisses down my breasts, leaving small hickeys as he goes. He kisses a trail down to my stomach, again stopping this time once he gets to the top of my underwear. Making eye contact with me, he gently removes my panties, leaving me completely exposed.

“I hope you know how absolutely breathtaking you are y/n. You're the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen.” Chan says, leaning down to kiss me once more.

“Well you’re not too bad yourself.” I say with a smirk. Chan rolls his eyes at my response, before going back to kissing just about every inch of my body. He stands up to remove his only remaining clothing, being his boxers. “Do you have condoms?” he asks nervously.

“Yeah, top drawer.” I say, pointing to my nightstand. Chan grabs the box, opening a condom up, and rolling it onto his length. Chan climbs back on top of me, settling himself in between my legs. “Please tell me if you want to stop, I don’t want to hurt you.” Chan says with a weary look.

“I know Chan, now please fuck me already. With how hard you are, I doubt you can hold on much longer.” I say, smirking at the man above me. 

“Well you’re right about that my love.” Chan says as he lowers himself over me, grabbing his erection to insert it inside of me. It's no secret both of us are desperate, Chan is rock hard and I’m dripping wet. 

“Fuck, holy shit you feel so good.” Chan groans out once he bottoms out inside of me. I can’t contain my moans as Chan begins slowly thrusting in and out of me. “Faster, please.” I beg in a needy tone. My body feels like it is on fire with how turned on I am. Chan speeds up his pace while managing to keep a steady rhythm. Chan lets out low groans and moans that make a melody with my higher pitched ones. Chan buries his face in my neck, holding me close as his thrusts begin to get sloppy. “Gonna cum soon.” Chan groans in my ear.

“I’m close too.” I moan back in response. Chan brings one of his hands down to my clit, circling his thumb around it to bring me closer to my high. “Oh fuck!” I shout as I reach my climax, my thighs trembling as I cum. Chan groans out, and I can feel him cum as we ride our highs. Chan sighs as he collapses on top of me. “Holy shit, we should do that again.” he says, slowly pulling ou, trying not to overstimulate either of us. “I couldn’t agree more.” I reply.