#the way he didn't even think before doing what he did and could do in order to be there for her

[mytherapyisreading14]

Drunk Confessions

Summary: You got drunk during a night out with your best friend and accidentally send your Professor a photo of you in lingerie. Now you try to avoid him, which is not really working.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!spencer, semi-public sex, hair pulling, thigh riding, spanking, fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, oral sex (kinda, he comes in her mouth)

Word Count: 4,6k

Author’s Note: My last posts got so many likes, I didn’t expect that at all, thank you sm!! <3

Your alarm goes off - 8:30am. You groan. Your head is pounding and the sun shining into your room is just way too bright. Your stomach turns and you close your eyes to escape the wave of nausea. You slowly sit up and search for your phone on the nightstand. It feels like your head is going to explode. You reach out and unlock the screen, turning your alarm off.

It's way too early. And you drunk way too much last night. It was a chaotic but nice yesterday, a night full of laughter, way too much alcohol and karaoke. Your best friend celebrated her birthday and you promised to go to your favorite bar with her. You have to smile when you think back to the night and start checking your messages. You see that she already texted you this morning to find out how you are doing.

How are you?

I have the worst headache after last night

It was fun though, wanna go again tonight?

Just kidding, I feel like I need a week to recover from this

You can’t help but laugh and answer her quickly. You are about to put your phone away to finally get ready when a new chat catches your eye. You freeze in shock. It’s your Professors name. The one you’ve been crushing on since you saw him for the very first time.

Back when you found out that you were getting a new professor, you didn't expect much, a lecture like any other with someone who was only concerned with reciting his material. But then he entered. He came through the door and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The room, which had just been immersed in the murmur of conversation, suddenly became silent.

He was tall - taller than you expected and his presence filled the room in a way that you couldn't put into words. He wore a simple but elegant suit that somehow effortlessly fit him perfectly. His hair was a little longer, curly and fell slightly over his forehead. And then he looked up. His big, brown eyes met yours and in a split second everything became clear to you. You immediately knew you wanted, needed, this man.

Now you stare at the chat in complete horror. He recently gave you his number for a project. That's how this whole texting thing could even happen. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Obviously you can't remember texting him. You were so drunk yesterday that you can't even remember how you got home.

You open the chat - and your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't just a message that you sent him. It was a photo. Of you, in lingerie. It’s one of your favorite sets, you got it a couple of weeks ago. "I wore this for you today, Professor. Do you like it?” You wrote in addition to the photo.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. You just stare at the screen, the picture of you that you should never, ever, ever have sent. And the worst part: He read it. But didn't reply. Confusion and panic spreads through you. You jump out of bed, your feet barely finding purchase on the floor, and your heart keeps racing. You try to think clearly, but your thoughts are a complete mess.

You reach for your phone again and frantically tap on the chat with your best friend, but you pause and call her instead. "Hello?" Her voice still sounds sleepy and hungover. “Oh my God, I need your help!" you gasp and immediately start telling her everything.

The line is silent, then you hear a short laugh. "Wait a minute... what? You did that?" You close your eyes and search for the right words. But before you can say anything, it hits you like a blow. You also have a lecture with him today.

"I’m not coming today," you tell her. “You can't just cancel!" she says immediately, and you hear her getting herself settled in her bed. Her voice sounds determined, but also worried. "You know how it is, our seminar today. We can't miss it. We said that celebrating wouldn't stop us," she says. "Celebrating isn't what would stop me either. Seeing him definitely is," you say and lean back with a groan.

You close your eyes and sink even deeper into the pillows. Your stomach clenches when you think about it. She’s right, You really have to go today. But the text, the picture that you sent him - what if he wants to talk to you about it? Or worse, he reports the whole thing?

"I can't just sit in front of him today and pretend that everything is normal. I sent him a picture of me in lingerie... I can't face him. It's just... it's just too much!" There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. She still hasn't said anything, and you know she's thinking. Then you hear her take a deep breath.

“Okay, the thing with the picture, that's really... a little crazy. But hey, you can skip the lecture. Just disappear after the seminar and then hide in your apartment. Or you can go and hope that when you run into him, he'll do completely different things after you seeing this photo. I bet you looked hot, was it the new set you recently bought?” she asks and you can hear her grin even though you're on the phone.

Obviously she knows about your crush on your professor. You couldn’t stop talking about him after your first lecture and she took every opportunity to tease you about it. You look at your phone as if it were the only thing that could help you think clearly. Of course she's right. You have to go to your seminar. And you can really skip his lecture. Still, the idea that he might be thinking about it makes your heart beat faster and not just in excitement.

“You're right, I... okay, I'll come," You say after a short pause, but the thought of maybe running into him still makes you nervous. “You'll see, it won't be as bad as you think. You'll get through the seminar, it's only an hour. And then we'll be out and we can take our time for everything else. And you'll just avoid your favorite professor today," she continues to teases.

“Today? More like forever," you mutter and finally get up, even though the thought of getting out of bed still paralyzes you. “See you soon then. I'll shower and get dressed now, then I'll come. Let’s meet outside the building, okay?" you ask. "Sure!" she calls out happily. "See you soon and don’t forget to wear another fancy set for your professor today. Just in case you run into him,” she jokes.

After you hang up you put the phone on the pillow and stand there for a moment, your legs heavy, your head still about to explode. But then you take a deep breath. It'll be fine, you just have get through the seminar. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom and take painkillers first. Then you start getting ready.

You turn on the water and let it run hot. A short time later, you go into the shower. The hot steam envelops you and slowly your body feels a little alive again. The nausea subsides and the hangover becomes more bearable. After the shower, you get dressed in peace - black skirt, a comfy sweater and your favorite sneakers. You quickly walk through the apartment again to make sure you packed everything and when you leave the house, you somehow feel less like a wreck.

-

The smell of freshly served pasta is still in your nose as you say goodbye. You got lunch together after your seminar and it was nice to get a little break and talk about everything that happened. Now you are ready to leave but you still have to go to the library to get a book that you need for your upcoming assignment first.

“I still have to go to the library," you tell her, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Are you coming with me?” you ask her. “I’m sorry, I have to pick up my sister now. But be careful, you don’t want to run into your favorite professor, or do you?” she teases again. “I’m not going to run into him. I’ll hurry up and leave immediately. I’ll call you later. See you tomorrow," you say and give her a quick wave before you set off.

-

The campus is full of students rushing through the halls, carrying their books around or sitting in groups and discussing. You slip into the library and head straight to the section where the book you need is. Unfortunately it’s at the top of the shelf and you realize that you probably won't be able to reach it. You jump up a few times, but the distance between you and the book just seems too big. You sigh. If only you were a little taller.

As you attempt the jump for the third time, you suddenly feel a presence building behind you. One that seems familiar. Your heart beats faster and a nervous tremor takes hold of you. You turn around and stare straight into Professor Reid's eyes. He is standing just inches away from you and you can hear the soft sound of his breathing.

The look he gives you is almost piercing - warm, but somehow also searching. He leans forward slightly without saying a word and effortlessly grabs the book with one hand. You avoid his gaze as he hands it to you. “Thank you," you murmur, trying to hide the slight nervous tremor in your voice. He nods and stands still for a moment.

"You weren't at my lecture today." You stare at the book in your hands and feel your stomach clench. This is not good. “I..." you take a deep breath. "I haven't been feeling so good. My head..." He waits, his eyes still fixed on you, and you get the feeling that he wants to hear more. You feel his gaze on you and when you finally raise your eyes to look into his eyes, there is a silent understanding, and for a moment you wonder if there’s more. “Sick, or...?" he asks calmly. You hesitate and bite your lip.

"I went out partying with my best friend yesterday, it was her birthday… we drank a little bit too much and... well, I'm not feeling so good today. That’s why I skipped." His expression remains neutral, but something in his gaze changes. You can hardly believe it, but it's almost as if he's interested. He frowns slightly. "I understand," he then says. "But it's not ideal to miss class, especially when important topics are involved."

You nod. “I know, Professor. I won’t happen again.” You just want to get out of this situation, and as you try to take a step back he stops you. "No, wait. I need to talk to you." You pause and turn back to him. "About what? I don’t really have the time -" you begin, pretending you don't have any idea what he wants to talk about, when he cuts you off.

"Doesn’t matter, it’s important. We'll sort it out in my office." His gaze is intense as he steps towards you. The thought of him asking you to come to his office makes your heart beat faster. The idea of ​​being alone in a room with him is tempting. "Okay," you say quietly, unable to prevent a nervous tingling from spreading in your chest. You follow him, even though your legs feel like they're made of jelly.

He leads the way, his steps calm and determined, and you can barely keep your eyes from lingering on his back. As soon as you reach the door to his office, he opens it and lets you enter first. You step in, your heart now beating loudly in your ears. The moment he closes the door behind you, you realize that it is more than just a conversation about the seminar.

The look he is giving you now is not the look of a professor. It is the look of a man who wants more than just academic discussions at this moment. And the thought that you’re alone with him in this room inevitably leaves you nervous and intrigued at the same time.

As the door closes behind you, you’re left breathless for a moment. His office is quiet, almost too quiet, compared to the crowded hallways outside. The room is sparsely decorated, except for the desk covered with stacks of paper and a few personal items. He is still standing at the table, his arms loosely folded in front of his chest and looks at you.

"Sit down," he says calmly, pointing to the chair on the opposite of the desk. You hesitate, then finally sit down, your heart pounding in your chest. The nervous energy inside you grows as you try to organize your thoughts. Before he can say anything else, you can’t hold it back any longer. The words come out of you hastily, almost in a rush, and you feel your body tense.

"The picture, it was a mistake! I didn't mean to... It wasn't meant for you. I was drunk, and it was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry." You look at the table, avoiding his gaze. But as you say the last words, you immediately notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. He remains silent for a moment, but then his body language shifts slightly - his gaze becomes more intense, the tension between you almost tangible.

"Hmm," he says after a pause, his voice deep and calm, "so the picture wasn't meant for me?" You flinch when you hear his question. What exactly does he want to hear? What does he want to know from you? You try to stay calm and answer hesitantly.

"It... it's none of your business." His expression hardens instantly. "It is," he says, and his voice sounds sharper, more determined now. "Because you sent it to me." Your heart beats faster as he continues. "I don't think it was an accident, even if you were drunk. You wanted to send it to me. And you did."

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You open your mouth, trying to say something, but you can't find a way to defend yourself. Instead, you just stay still, looking at your hands, which are resting nervously on your lap.

He laughs quietly, a mocking, almost challenging laugh. "So you're really sure it was an accident, huh?" He slowly leans forward, rests his hands on the table and looks straight into your eyes. The look in his eyes has changed, and something in his expression shows you that he is the one in control.

"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you look at me in class? How you keep watching my hands? How you press your thighs together when I approach you?" His words hit you and you freeze for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot, you feel your heart pounding uncontrollably, but you keep quiet. Everything inside you screams to defend yourself, but you stay silent because you know he’s right.

"I noticed from the beginning, angel," he continues, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t believe he just called you that. It turns you on immensely. "I know you didn't just do it because of the party and the alcohol. You also sent it to me because you wanted to." He leans further forward, his presence overwhelming, and you can't help but feel small even as you try to assert yourself.

You open your mouth to say something, but the words stick in your throat. What could you say? That he's wrong? That would be a lie. “You sent it to me," he repeats, his voice now almost like a command. "Because you wanted to show me. And I don't think it was an accident. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted me to see you like this."

Your body is paralyzed. It feels like the room has suddenly become smaller. You can hardly breathe. His words and his look have completely captured you in that moment. “I... uh," you begin, but the thought that he is in control, that he sees you like this at this moment, leaves you speechless and you’re unable form a proper sentence.

He remains silent, only his eyes continue to focus on you. "You have to understand that you can't just play with me like that." His gaze becomes more intense, and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more but then he slowly stands up, walks around the table and stops right in front of you.

"I'll show you something," he says in a calm but unmistakable voice. "And you will understand why it wasn't just an accident." Your heart beats faster. His hand reaches for your chin, lifting it up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches and you lean closer, craving his touch. “Get up and lock the door for me,” he says and pulls his hand away slowly.

You do as your told immediately and when you turn around, he is sitting on his chair with his legs spread. He looks so hot and you desperately clench your thighs together to relief the pressure between your legs. “Good girl. Come here,” he says and pats his thigh. You shiver in excitement and when he notices a grin spreads across his face.

You go over to him and when you stand in front of him, he pulls you down into his lap. He leans forward to whisper into your ear “That’s what you wanted, right? To be my good girl. That’s why you send me that picture. You wanted to end up here,” he says and places his hands on your hips. You press yourself closer against him and inhale his scent, he smells like cinnamon, peppermint and aftershave, it’s addictive.

However, you get interrupt by his hand reaching into your hair to pull your head back. You gasp in surprise and he leans closer to you, looking deep into your eyes again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer,” he says and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. “Yes, that’s true. I - I always wanted that,” you manage to say and he releases your hair, satisfied with your response.

Then he leans forward and you finally feel his lips against yours. It’s even better than you always imagined and you start to grind against his leg, desperate to release the friction between your legs. But Spencer quickly stops you. “Did I allow you to move?” he asks and you shake your head.

He sighs in disappointment but before he can say anything you quickly answer him. “No, you didn’t,” you say and his grip on your hips looses a little. “That’s right. I didn’t. And you’re not allowed to move until I tell you to. You’re going to listen to me and do exactly what your told, do you understand?” he asks. “I understand.”

“See, it’s not that hard. You listen to me, you behave and you’ll get your reward. Now, do you want to ride my thigh?” he asks, his hand slowly sliding behind your back to your ass, squeezing it. “Yes, please. Can I?” you ask and he leans forward to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he pulls back you can see his eyes sparkling with lust. “So polite, I like that. Yes, you can,” he says and you finally go back to moving against his thigh.

It feels good, so good and when Spencer starts to slide one hand under your shirt to grab your breasts you press closer against him. You can feel that you soaked your underwear trough and wearing only a skirt, you can already see a small wet stain on his pants. His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “Someone’s needy,” he says and you nod, leaning against his chest, grinding down more against him.

“Spen - Spencer, I’m going to come,” you whimper but he pulls you back by your hair again. “It’s Sir for you, angel,” he says and you correct yourself immediately. “Please Sir, can I come on your thigh now?” you breath out and he grabs your hips again, stopping you.

“No, not yet,” he simply says and you whine when he stands up and you lose contact. “But I thought - “ you start but he doesn’t let you finish. He turns you around and pushes you down onto his desk. “Doesn’t matter what you thought. I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says and flips over your skirt to expose your underwear to him.

“I see, another pair then the ones you wore yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I prefer the other ones, but you look pretty anyway, angel,” he says, sliding his hands over your thighs and your ass. “Last night when you send me that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits and you can feel your whole body reacting to his words.

A wave of confidence flashes through you. “Did I keep you up last night, Sir? Did you have to stroke your cock while you looked at my picture? Thinking about all the ways you want to fuck me?” you ask him and turn your head slightly back to look at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip.

“Oh you have no idea, angel. I’m going to show you exactly what I was thinking about last night,” And suddenly you feel a harsh smack on your ass. He just spanked you. And you liked it. Your breath hitches and you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.

His hand strokes the spot he just hit before going further down to pull at your panties. He takes them off and stuffs them into his pocket. You are convinced you’re not going to get them back. Then you feel his long, slender fingers sliding between your legs before he presses onto your clit. You gasp in surprise and try to press against him but his grip on your hips is firm, holding you still.

Then he pushes two fingers inside you. “So fucking wet.” His eyes wander over your body down to your legs hungrily, appreciating every curve and every spot. “I’ve never seen such a pretty pussy. And it’s all mine now. You’re all mine now,” he says. The way his fingers move and the way he stares at you intensely feels just way too good.

When his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, you can feel how your orgasm builds up inside of you and you can no longer hold back your moans. “Spencer - Sir, feels so good. Please,… I need more,” You clench around his fingers and he quickly puts a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet, angel. As much as I would love to hear all these lovely sounds you make, I don’t want to get interrupted. Not now, when I finally have you, after all this time.”

His fingers curl inside you and keep hitting your g -spot. You clench around them, he notices and chuckles. “Can I - please,” you stutter. “Yes angel,” he says, already knowing what you’re asking for and you come around his fingers. You never had such an intense orgasm from foreplay before, but you don’t mind. It’s even better than you always imagined.

He wants to give you a moment to recover but you want more. You somehow manage to turn around, even though your legs feel like they are going to give in any second and push yourself up on his desk. He looks surprised and opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by pulling him closer by his tie.

You wrap your hands around his neck and rank your fingers through his soft, brown hair before kissing him. You moan into his mouth and he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank you, Sir. That was amazing,” you say with a smirk on your face when you pull back. “Now is the time to lose your pants and relax, I want to return the favor.”

“As much as I want to see you down on your knees with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, we don’t have much time left. Office hour starts in less than 30 minutes. And I need to fuck you. So drop it and spread your legs for me. Now,” he demands and you obliged, sitting further back on his desk with your legs spread.

He takes a step back and starts to unzip his dress pants. When he takes out his cock your eyes widen. He is even bigger than you expected. “Are you on the pill?” he asks while he starts to pump his cock. “I am,” you say. “Good. I want to fuck your pussy and then, since you suggested sucking me off, come inside your mouth. I want you to taste me. You don’t swallow until I say so. Do you understand?” he asks, sliding his cock through your folds to tease you. “Yes Sir, I understand,” you whimper and he wastes no time and pushes inside you.

His first thrust already make your eyes roll back and you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waits and your hands are on his back, pressing him even more against your body. Everytime a whimper or a moan escapes your mouth his thrust become deeper, rougher and faster. You can feel him throb inside you and he keeps hitting your g- spot over and over again.

One of his hand is sneaking through your breast, squeezing it and toying with your nipple. You graze his back with your fingernails and make sure to leave marks on him. Your mind goes blank and you lose yourself in the pleasure completely. After a few more thrust you can feel the orgasm building up inside of you. “Close,” you breath out and he nods. “Me too. You can come on my cock now.”

You let go and your orgasm is even more intense than you expected. You moan his name so loud that he quickly covers your mouth with his hand again. He picks up his speed and a few thrusts later he pulls out of you to shove his cock into your mouth. You can feel his cum inside your mouth and taste him, just like he told you to. He watches you closely the whole time while he recovers from his own orgasm.

“Now swallow,” he says and you do. Then he pulls you forward with both of his hands to kiss you. The kiss is different this time, more gentle and caring, not just full of lust. When he pulls back you both smile. “I guess sending you this picture was not bad at all. And I was so worried.” He laughs. “I’m glad you send it, angel. Now I finally have you all to myself. It's a shame I couldn't take more time for you right now. There's a lot more I'd like to do with you,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me after your office hours, Sir?” you say with a smirk on your face. “Make sure to be here on time, angel.”

[purple-hel]

This. This is why I'm going to kill myself. I have been unemployed for 17 months. I can't get a fucking INTERVIEW. In 2021 freshly graduated from a four month data analysis boot camp, I had multiple interviews a week and a job in like 6 weeks, maybe 2 months. Now, with 2 years of work experience under my belt, I literally have had one phone screener and one interview. In seventeen months. I have reworked my resume repeatedly. I have spent around two grand on various resume templates and scan your resume to check how AI sees it and linkedin premium and buy my guide to the perfect work for yourself job. I'm disabled and can't do retail or food service, and the two different office job categories I am qualified for and capable of AREN'T FUCKING HIRING.

I'm being evicted. I'm desperately trying to make my mother's two year abandoned two *decade* hoarded house even remotely livable. I'm only going to have a working fridge because of my ex husband, the toilet has to be flushed with a bucket, at least the hot water gets hot so I'll be able to shower even if I don't want to think about what that weird film on the hot water might *be*, the kitchen sink is unusable due to a leak, the bathroom sink leaks but that I can at least probably fix, the stove/microwave/washer/dryer/dishwasher is dead, at least the heat works, but I can't afford to *pay* the electric or gas or water. I got approved for food stamps but there's no working way to cook anything in the house and if the electric gets cut off my inexpensive new fridge won't do me any good either. To get my car running so I could even have a chance of getting moved before I get evicted, I had to agree to give my ex the car after I finish moving. (it used to be ours, it became informally mine after we split, I didn't have the money to get it running again but my ex did, he's not a bad guy we're just bad together.)

Yes, I could survive this, but *why*. After a year and a half with no job, I'm not going to get hired. I don't have the spoons to job hunt *and* volunteer or run a side hustle, which are the recommended ways to fill a resume gap. I have tried so many side hustles and I just can't make one work. I did for more than a decade from the end of high school thru and past college, but I am older and chronic pain-ier and it's just not working.

The world is a beautiful place but it's not beautiful enough to make this shit worth it. Capitalism is designed to kill the poor and I'm not going to be an exception. I'm going to keep making choices like things will somehow work out, even when I know they won't, at least until I run out of choices, but I refuse to die cold. I'm not sticking around once the heat is going to stop working.

it's easier to apply for jobs than ever! so what if you lost your insurance, anyone can get a job these days, even without meds. everyone is hiring! there's a "good employee" shortage!

well you just need to revamp your resume, here's a paid app subscription that can read it for you. rewrite the cover letter they won't read. google jobs in my area and then scrawl through Monster/Indeed/worbly. did you want to save the search? this was posted 98 days ago. over 1 billion applicants! this position is trending.

jobs i actively like doing and get paid for. your search returned no results. easy-apply with HireSpin! easy apply with SparkFire! easy apply with PenisFlash! with a few short clicks, get your information stolen.

watch out! the first 98 links on google are actually scams! they're false postings. oopsie. that business isn't even hiring. that other one is closed permanently. find one that looks halfway legit, google the company and the word "careers". go to their page. scroll past brightly-lit diversity stock photo JOIN US white sans serif. we are a unique, fresh, client-focused stock value capitalism. we are committed to excellence and selling your soul on ebay. we are DRIVEN with POWER to INNOVATE our greed. yippee! our company has big values of divisive decision making, sucking our dicks, and hating work-life balances. our values are to piss in your mouth. sign here and tell us if you have gender issues so we can get ahead of the sexual harassment claim. are you hispanic although let's be real we threw out the resume when we saw your last name.

sign up to LinkHub to access updates from this company. make a HirePlus account to apply. download the PoundLink app. your account has been created, click the link we sent you in 15 minutes. upload that resume. we didn't read the resume, manually fill in the lines now. what is your expected pay grade. oh actually we want hungry people, not people driven by a salary. cut a zero off that number, buddy, this is about opportunity, and we need to be thrifty. highest level of education. autofill is glitching. here is an AI generated set of questions. what is your favorite part of our sexy, sexy company. how do you resolve conflict. will you get our company logo tattooed on your person. warning: while our CEO is guilty of wage theft, we will absolutely refuse to hire a nonviolent felon.

thank you for your interest at WEEBLIX. we actually already filled this position internally. we actually never had that posting. we actually needed you to have 9 years of experience and since you have 10 years we think it might be too many? we'll be texting you. we'll email you. we'll keep your resume. definitely absolutely we won't just completely ignore you. look at your phone, there's already a spam text from Bethany@stealyouridentity. they're hiring!

wait, did you get an interview? well that's special, aren't you lucky. out of 910 jobs you applied to, one answered, finally. and funny story! actually the position isn't exactly as advertised, we are looking for someone curious and dedicated. it's sort of more managerial. no, the pay doesn't change - you won't have any leadership title. now take this 90 minute assessment. in order to be a dog groomer, we need you to explain cell biology. in order to be a copyeditor, write a tiny dissertation about the dwindling supply of helium on the planet. answer our riddles three. great job! we just need to push this up to Tracy in HR who will send it to Rodney who is actually in charge. and then of course it's jay's decision and then greg will need to see you naked and if you survive you'll be given a drug test and a full anal examination.

and of course you'll be hungry this whole time, aren't you, months and months of the same shit. months of no insurance, no meds, no funding, barely able to afford the internet and the phone and the rent - all things you need in order to even apply for our thing. but do it again! do it again and again and again, until you flip inside out and turn into a being of pure dread!

you're not hired yet because you're lazy. there's over one million AI-generated hallucinated jobs in your area. don't worry. with zipruiter, hiring and firing is easier than ever. sign up. stay on-call.

in the meantime, little peon - why don't you just fucking suffer.

[xomakara]

Be Mine [Part 1]

SUMMARY | You’re being stalked and getting creepy and filthy messages from someone named Unknown. Little did you know that person might be closer than you think.

PAIRINGS |  Yunho x Reader

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE |  smut, thriller, random fluff/comedy 

CONTENT/WARNINGS | stalking, creepy and filthy test messages, profanity, mentions of drinking, lots of sexual acts/thoughts, voyeurism, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), public sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, vaginal penetration, creampie, multiple orgasms

LENGTH |  14,264 words

TAGLIST |  @heechwe @lovetaroandtaemin

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

@othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety @dove-net

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Big, big, thank yous to @unholywriters, @kwanisms, and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-reading this. I couldn't have edited this without your help! Big shoutout to @pars-ley for the beautiful banner! I appreciate you all so much! This is different from what I usually write (I know, I said that about a lot of other fics) but thriller is not my forte but I decided to delve into it. I hope you all like it and see you in part 2! 💚

He stood in the shadows, looking up into your window, for the fifth night. Your neighbors were out, their car idling in their driveway, leaving him unobserved. You, too, were unaware of his presence, busy getting fucked, face first in the sheets.

You looked oh so sweet, taking that cock. Taking it again and again while he rubbed his hand down the front of his jeans and wondered if you'd look this sweet taking his own. Your eyes glazed over in lust, face contorted into an expression that would have given any man cause to smile, you had no idea that he was right outside, staring into you.

Not that he planned on fucking you. Not anytime soon. He'd thought about it. Of course. Would you give yourself to him the way you were so easily giving yourself to another?

You had a type. Pretty college boys. Trust fund kids. Cocksure and full of themselves, despite the lack of worldly experience they actually had. Oh, he was handsome, tall and lean, but he wasn't a boy. No. He was a man, all man, and he would fuck you the way you needed to be fucked, the way your inexperienced lovers couldn't hope to.

His gaze never wavered as he pulled his length out from his pants, fisting his already throbbing cock to the sight of your soft skin covered in a sheen of perspiration. His feet scuffled further into the darkness to make certain no passers by were likely to happen along while his thumb grazed along the slit, sending a shock of pleasure up the shaft.

All the while, he thought about how hot and tight and wet your cunt would feel wrapped around his cock, bouncing on top of him, sliding him in and out of your snatch. Wondered what pretty sounds would pass those plump pink lips and if that beautiful gaze would glaze over just as pretty when he pumped his seed deep inside of you.

He watched as your young lover finished off before you had a chance to cum. Watch as he shrugs on his clothes, giving you a small kiss before leaving your apartment. Watch as you laid back in bed, fingers reaching for that favorite dildo of yours, your only companion these days.

A smug satisfaction washed through him as he saw you glancing into the dark corners of your room and through the curtainless window. Even in the dim light of the moon, he knew you didn't see him, your mind having no reason to think you needed to keep the bedroom windows covered, especially now with the tall apartment complex at the front of your building blocking your view.

So, instead, you leaned forward, giving the viewer, whether you knew you had one or not, an ample view as you slid your toy in and out of that warm pussy. So pretty and so sad to do this alone when you could have had a nice strong cock between your legs right at this very moment, replacing your poor toy.

As his balls grew tight and he blew his load, all over the front of the complex, the man promised himself he would visit you soon. Very, very soon.

"Yunho!"

"Oof!" Yunho grunted out as his friend threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and nearly strangling him in the process.

"Geeze, woman!" He grunted out as her petite body continued squeezing his neck, laughing and pulling him closer as she tried to squeeze the life out of him. "You act like you didn't just see me last week."

"Yeah but now you're part of the company!" You gushed happily, pulling back with a brilliant smile plastered across your face. "We have to celebrate. Drinks after work!"

"You think Hongjoong is going to agree to that?" Yunho questioned, though his smile was already spreading, enjoying the way you squealed excitedly and dragged him towards the office the rest of the way.

"Pfftttt. Like Hongjoong even does a lot of work here," you teased, bumping your shoulder lightly into his side before giving him a cheeky grin as you continued your stride into the office and pushed the door open.

"Someone's talking shit," a voice spoke up as soon as they entered the room.

Yunho tilted his head up, laughing as the older man pinned you with a fierce stare. "Don't pretend you don't deserve every word of it."

"Traitor," Hongjoong cursed with a laugh as he leaned his hip on the desk, arms crossing over his chest as he gave him his attention instead. "Thanks for agreeing to do this."

"Who am I to turn down an old friend," he replied honestly, and you quickly turned and bounced onto your feet.

"The real question," you started, sauntering over towards your boss, "is who's paying for the drinks."

Hongjoong cocked a brow at you, smirking as you danced from side to side before him. "I think you should buy drinks for the whole company. Since you seem so insistent."

Your face twisted into a look of mock horror. "Is the almighty Kim Hongjoong, owner, president, and CEO of ATZ Gaming, telling his most beautiful employee to empty her wallet?"

"I thought I was the most beautiful person here?" Another voice chimed in, Seonghwa stepping in, the second and most trusted employee of ATZ Gaming after Hongjoong.

"You are," you cooed at him, not batting an eyelash, "but I have to throw in some extra charm to get what I want."

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning back against the wall next to Yunho, clasping his friend on the shoulder in greeting. "What is it you want, little liar?"

"Buy us drinks after work," you sassed, grinning brightly at both the men, turning on them. Seonghwa clucked his tongue and glanced over at Hongjoong. "Hey, don't ask him, I was the victim here," you pleaded, hands flailing out dramatically.

"Are we finally having a party?" Yeosang suddenly peeked his head up over the corner of his computer, hair mussed from his earlier activity. "I have some news that could definitely be celebrated with a drink."

"Yo! Yunho is finally here!" Wooyoung called out loudly from down the hall, legs carrying him faster as he waved excitedly. He looked quite fetching as he came around the bend, dress pants pulling tight over his toned muscles, light blue shirt fitted against his upper body. "Welcome to the madhouse!"

Hongjoong, unable to keep the charade anymore, laughed and clasped a hand on Yunho's shoulder. "When I asked all my friends to join me in this company I started, I did not imagine all of them would act like a bunch of kindergarteners, but what can I expect?"

"You love us!" San and Mingi announced in unison as the two rounded the corner.

Jongho followed shortly after, stretching his back as he joined the rest. "Tell us we don't have anything scheduled, please," Jongho spoke up as he settled into a comfortable seat.

"There was supposed to be a party planned for Yunho today but someone failed in their task."

You rolled your eyes, glaring at your boss. "The lovely Hongjoong hasn't agreed to pay yet."

The office of ATZ Gaming was full of the same individuals from middle school, the same ones he had grown up with and spent more time with than anyone else. Hongjoong was the owner of the company. An IT expert and coder. The man was a genius with all things electronic, and his vision was the game of the year right now. An RPG simulation video game that drew so many of its users that it was slowly creating an empire of its own.

You were hired as the lead writer. After high school and starting university, you'd immediately fluttered into a variety of career options that had suited your style. Advertising, commercial art, animation. Though you always ended up circling back around to game telling and concept art, so when you heard that Hongjoong had quit his job and was striking out on his own, you were one of the first calls he'd made.

When you began writing the storyline for Hongjoong's game, and word started going around how good it was, Seonghwa quickly joined forces, a PR rep in the works, followed by San, whose graphics were lovely, and Wooyoung, a known social media sensation and marketer. And the game was finally taking off.

Yeosang and Mingi came along as programmers after the two had spent nights working and perfecting a gaming system that had completely baffled even Hongjoong. And their reputation followed soon after.

Last, but not least, Jongho. Despite being the youngest of the crew, he'd been an IT prodigy that helped support and maintain their website as the company's traffic exploded, helping to launch their product and set them apart from the others.

Yunho, being the newest hire for their sales and marketing department, was familiar with all of their talents, and would be responsible for marketing their product with an enthusiastic eye that would be a strong addition to their group.

"Of course, I'm happy to take all you dorks out for a drink," Hongjoong pulled his attention, glancing over at everyone and holding a stern finger up. "After you all have finished the reports you were supposed to turn in."

"Boo!" You stuck your tongue out at your boss, huffing out your frustration as you trudged over towards your cubicle and dropped into the chair, head buried into the crook of your arms.

"Cheer up princess," Seonghwa laughed as he swiped up his report, moving over and handing the page over to you. "Have a glance over this before I turn it in."

You groaned louder, head shaking at him as he shrugged.

Yunho simply stood quietly off to the side, watching his friends go through the mundane tasks of their work, yet they all appeared so cheerful and energetic in this atmosphere, constantly teasing and cracking jokes. A wide smile spread across his lips. His fingers were twitching in anticipation of being able to do work for the company, already wanting the day to be over so he could go have that drink with his friends and have some fun.

After three long hours, you finally shuffled out of your chair, grabbing onto Seonghwa's elbow, leaning up against the elder and looking up at him with those huge doe eyes. "I'm hungry and my ass is sore, please tell me we are done for today and can have that drink."

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong. "May the princess get drunk this fine Friday?"

You snorted, slapping his chest with a smirk as he grinned and pinched at the end of your cheek.

"Why not? It's Friday, and it will be an evening well spent," Hongjoong smirked, shutting his computer down and shrugging on his leather jacket. "Come on. My treat. As a welcome to the team, Yunho."

He sat in the corner of the bar, watching as you smiled up at your friends and playfully ran your fingers along the chest of an older man in a button-down shirt, the two of you whispering things back and forth. The group was a large one, a rowdy bunch that was currently taking up several tables off to the side. A good amount of them were handsome, all young and athletic. Different than your usual flavor of college boys and nerds.

He watched you and the man share a quiet joke. Watched as the male leaned in to whisper something against the shell of your ear, watched the pretty curve of your mouth part, giggle flitting free at the secret passing between you.

His stomach tightened, not because he was upset, or because he didn't like how he watched as your hand curled into the fabric at the male's waist and tugged at the expensive threads there, but because he imagined it was himself you were whispering to, him whose pants your fingers were digging into, him whose warmth you were stealing away with that pretty little smile.

What were you whispering about? What dirty, naughty little secrets were you whispering? Was it about getting fucked tonight? Hard and thorough. This man looked like he would satisfy you more than those little boys. This man didn't seem shy. Not with the way his hand brushed over your bottom, fingers cupping against the supple skin there for a moment before falling away.

When the hours passed, and the laughter began to dim, the group decided it was time to retire, and the group departed the establishment. He stayed behind. Making sure to keep close to the exit while also blending in. He watched as you and the man walked along the sidewalk, arm tucked under his, your soft giggle wafting in his ear when he bent low and whispered again.

He kept to the shadows as he followed, thankful that the night was cloudy and obscured his view, especially when you stopped walking and tipped your head back, gazing up into the handsome man's face, the two standing close, talking quietly as if they had forgotten the world around them. When the man leaned down and brushed his lips over yours, that's when he truly felt a twist in his stomach, a heavy, sickening roll.

His fists clenched into balls, unable to drag his eyes away from the sight. Your body stiffened at first, unsure, clearly the sudden motion took you by surprise, but when you leaned forward and melted against him, that was when his chest clenched.

When his hand came around your waist and he pulled you forward and dipped his hand down and grabbed the bottom of your ass, it was hard not to grit his teeth.

When the male shoved you against the brick wall of the nearby alley and dragged his lips down along the column of your neck, his eyes flared.

How far were you willing to take it in public? This would cause a scandal, wouldn't it?

Did that make you excited?

Did you want everyone in town to see, to watch, as he bent you over and fucked your little brains out? Or did you just want to get caught, the thrill of potentially being seen.

Did it matter?

As long as that cock got shoved inside of you, as long as the pretty moans escaped your parted lips, then who gave a fuck.

As your knees buckled, and you moaned out as the man's fingers curled under your skirt and sank into the soft flesh between your legs, his feet started to move. When the man hoisted you up and pressed you harder against the wall, and your arms and legs wrapped around him, the sounds of slick and wet mixing as the male's length entered you and pulled back out, his stride picked up speed.

Fuck, what he wouldn't give to have you in his arms, hot and wet and needy and letting him fuck you wherever and whenever the fuck he wanted.

When the male's movements picked up, body thrusting harder and faster between your spread legs, he watched the way you moaned louder and threw your head back against the wall, and he wished it were him taking you, ruining you.

You were enjoying it. Clearly. Enjoying that big dick sliding in and out. Enjoying that full feeling, letting the man claim you as his.

You looked like an absolute angel as he fucked you, a filthy fucking angel, hair tangled over your shoulders, the silk strands clinging to your cheeks as the sweat formed, skin glowing underneath the flickering streetlight overhead.

This man was ruining you. Just the way he would soon ruin you too.

How he longed to have that pink tongue swirl over his own, feel those tits press against his chest, his length snug and buried deep.

Soon.

Very soon.

When you cried out, your orgasm splashed all over his shaft, the male was right there behind you, his hips erratic, chasing after his own high. As he painted the inside of you, cum spilling and dripping down the sides of his dick as you clenched tightly to milk him for everything he had, the man pushed his hips harder against yours.

You had a completely satisfied expression, limp and tired as you came down from that intense moment, the passion that had overcome both of you leaving you entirely spent.

There was a sweet giggle as the man placed a kiss on your lips, a soft murmuring, another sweet peck to your lips, and the two of you stumbled away together, the man holding onto your waist, keeping your spent, stumbling body upright.

His feet had carried him forward when you disappeared, following the wet steps down the darkened alley. That was where he saw it, a pair of pale pink, soaked, cotton panties, hanging over a discarded can.

His hand shot forward and he gripped them, crushing the fabric between his palms and pulling it back with him.

Soon.

He would visit very, very soon.

Seonghwa made his way towards your desk, setting down a steaming cup of your favourite tea. "Okay, princess. Go home."

"I'm almost done with this report. Give me twenty minutes,” you replied, smashing the keyboard.

"Pfft. You said that four hours ago," he scolded, squatting down next to your desk so he was level with you. "Go home. Finish it tomorrow. Come into work late. Sleep in. Whatever will make the princess happy."

"Why is Y/N always getting the special treatment? Hyung, aren't I cute too?" Wooyoung sulked, tugging on his collar and pouting his plump lips. "Tell me you love me more."

"Back off, lover boy," you grumbled, sipping at the tea he'd brought over, moaning softly at the delicate flavor. "Hush and mind your own business."

Yunho laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, a soothing motion, urging you to finish your work for the night. "The sooner you finish, the sooner we can get dinner, if you're down for that."

"I want Seonghwa's undivided love too!" San whined loudly, stepping around Jongho as he shoved his way past Wooyoung and Yeosang. "I want my cute hyung to baby me too."

Seonghwa quickly backed his way into the elevator before the crew ganged up on him.

"I have a date, so I gotta get going," he smiled, lifting his hand and  giving the boys a two-finger salute. "Y/N, have a good night! Everyone else, see you all tomorrow."

You turned to Yunho, a bright smile on your face. "That offer for dinner still on the table?"

"For you, always," Yunho smirked, leaning down and grabbing your purse, placing the strap around his wrist before pulling you into his side with a gentle tug. "How does pizza and a movie sound? You can go to mine, or we can go to yours, whatever works for you."

You didn't notice Wooyoung's raised eyebrow, the slightly quirked up lip as he observed the two of you. "Oh? Something going with you two that we should know about? You've been spending a lot of time together recently."

"Shh," you stuck your tongue out at the teasing male. "Jealous?"

"You're not my type," Wooyoung sassed back, wrapping his hands over the shoulders of Yeosang and Mingi. "You've never been my type."

"Sure, says the guy who had a crush on me in high school," you called out, shoving your keyboard back into place and shoving the papers on your desk aside. You swung your purse over your shoulder, hooking an arm through Yunho's.

"Hey, that was years ago, I've grown. I have better taste," the younger male started with a childish scoff, pulling the other two guys along towards the exit.

Yunho just stood and listened as you waved and stuck your tongue out at Wooyoung, yelling at the rest of your friends a goodnight. You were such an adorable, flirty brat with the others. His smile never waned. It was fun watching the interactions and teasing. His hand curled over yours, pulling you along next to him.

"Seriously, I can have food delivered to my place, or we can head to a drive-thru," he paused and shrugged his jacket off, dropping it over your shoulders, adding an extra layer for warmth. "Which will it be?"

Your fingers dug into the thick fabric as you peered up at him through your lashes, admiring the smile stretched wide and happy across those soft lips. You loved hanging out with Yunho. He was a nice escape from work, and outside the office, it felt more intimate. More personal. Like you were the ones having fun with each other, not work friends just playing around in the comfort of each other's presence.

"Oh my God," you squealed, tugging at his hand excitedly, "are you inviting me over?"

He snickered, pulling his jacket closed over your chest. "If you'd like. We could share a pizza, have some wine, listen to music..."

"Is this a date, Jeong Yunho? A date-date?" You puffed your cheeks at him. "Not as friends, right?"

His finger hooked under your chin as he leaned in, causing your eyes to flutter as you stared at the mischievous expression on his handsome face, unable to break away. His head cocked slightly. "And if I said yes? What would you do about it?"

A fierce blush warmed the tips of your ears and you pulled his jacket up further, trying to hide the excitement building, the giddiness bubbling up. You nodded, teeth biting into the meat of your lower lip. "Let's just say... I wouldn't mind if it was a date."

You pretended not to notice that he was still holding onto your hand as the two of you left, pretended not to hear the excitement in the sound of his laugh as he guided the two of you down the quiet sidewalk.

He could have anyone, so why did he pick you? Okay sure, you two knew each other and had been friends since middle school. And sure you had the biggest, fattest crush on him in high school and your feelings never went away, so... Why not?

You had your fair share of dating and sleeping around, a couple flings and things that lasted for a few months. It was easy to find dates and go on a variety of dates and sleep with attractive guys... yet they never scratched that itch. They always left something to be desired, and eventually, the shine would wear off and you'd both move on and that would be that.

It wasn’t that the guys weren't attractive, weren't charming, weren't funny, or weren't sweet. They just... Never clicked. You'd have sex with them, unsatisfying sex at that,  that made you walk around the rest of the day wondering 'is this it? Are these the types of guys I've been going for?'

Seonghwa was the closest to having something steady. It was sweet, comfortable. Until your spark just kinda... died? It wasn't anything either of you did. No drama. No cat fight or argument. It just naturally fizzled out and the two of you stepped back into your friendships, and when either of you got horny, the other person was always a phone call away.

But with Yunho? Well, that was a whole other animal. It was butterflies. Nerves and awkward laughter and racing hearts. You felt young and silly again. And you were positive you weren't the only one. The attraction was a mutual thing, which made it more thrilling. You didn't just imagine it, and the heat simmering and smoldering was equal between you.

He lived just outside the main district in a cute studio apartment over an art gallery. Your breath caught every time you saw his smile and his arm slung around your shoulder, keeping you close, that hand drifting back and forth along your arm, knuckles tickling at the flesh at your collar bone as he giggled.

"Home sweet home," he stated proudly as the two of you climbed the steps to his home and stepped inside, toeing his shoes off. "It’s tiny, but cozy and private."

As soon as you stepped into the door, you were in awe. It was exactly like Yunho - handsome and modest and masculine. A king-size bed with deep maroon sheets, dark curtains, and lots and lots of pillows. And his desk had several pictures in frames, displaying memories. There were tons of photographs, including lots of you and the guys from when you were kids and teens, to more current versions, the most recent from the company welcome party for him.

"Jesus," you breathed out in a rush, stumbling forward as your eyes continued to scan the space, landing on the long sofa that sat to the right and his kitchen which looked tiny, "wow, look at you, mister fancy pants. You really landed yourself on your feet."

"Ha!" Yunho cackled, hand clasping onto yours. "It's nothing like where you and the other's are living, but it's paid for and cozy. Let me order the pizza, then we can get comfortable."

"By comfy, do you mean cuddle up and watch a romantic drama?" you wiggled your eyebrows.

He hummed, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Will that make you feel good?"

"Are you offering to make me feel good? Orrrr..." you started.

He shook his head, a laugh gracing his lips. "The usual order?"

You gave a nod, stomach rumbling as if answering his question for you.

He smirked, snagging a pillow and tossing it next to the spot on the couch you would claim, waving his cell phone to remind you to wait patiently while he orders food for you. He vanished into the kitchen, a silly smile on his lips.

You wiggled out of his jacket and tucked the large pillow against you, hugging the warm clothing close to your body. If you closed your eyes, you could easily imagine him embracing you. His scent surrounded you, and you found that it helped calm your jumbled nerves, keeping that level head that usually evaded you whenever this tall, handsome giant was standing too close, looking at you with those intense, kind eyes.

Fuck. This was an actual date.

With Yunho.

A dream come true.

And just how were you supposed to handle yourself now?

Yunho had finally started paying you more attention lately, and sure, the group hung out a lot together, but this was a little bit different, right? It certainly felt more than friendship, and if you were reading his signals right, then the interest was there, especially tonight.

So then, maybe it was possible for the two of you to work. Maybe?

When Yunho finally rejoined you in the living area of his home, he held up two glasses and a bottle, a wide grin spread across his lips. "Drinks?"

He glanced around the area as the two of you chatted, laughing and making small talk while you waited on the pizzas. As the film played and the food was eaten, you relaxed into the sofa, cuddled up at his side, eyes locked on the screen. His fingers caressed the strands of your hair and rubbed a gentle path over your arm, touch drifting back and forth, but not far.

There was comfort, and you sighed. His affection was soft and steady. You relaxed against him, happy to finally have some alone time with him, just the two of you in your little bubble. His scent enveloped you, and his arms cradled you like you belonged here. 

"Can I ask you something? You can always refuse," you nodded, a curious gaze moving over to find him chewing on his lower lip and looking at the floor. "Okay. Well... Do you... Am I... Would it be too weird if I told you that I really like you? And not just as a friend?"

You took the moment to process this question, staring at him for a solid five seconds before you sat up. "Wait what?" you blinked in confusion.

"Oh god, nevermind! This is awkward now," he ran a hand through his hair and you tried not to laugh as his face turned a bit pink and looked away. "Just forget I ever asked."

"Hey, come back," your hands cupped his face and you turned him so you could look into his eyes again. You tilted your head up, lips brushing against his. "I like you too."

He didn't speak and just closed the distance. His lips moved against yours, slowly parting open, pressing firmly yet softly as you relaxed your mouth against his and let the pleasure of the feeling flow through you. Your hands ran along his face, into his hair, curling the soft strands around your fingertips.

The kiss is soft and gentle. Unhurried and eager, but not rushed. His arms tightened around your waist, and you moved in his lap, adjusting your legs on either side of his hips and seating yourself properly, so you were facing him and comfortably slotted in.

You nipped playfully at his plump lip and parted your mouth open, smiling against him.

"What's so funny?" Yunho asked, tilting his head at you curiously, tracing his finger along your cheek.

"It's not, I don't know, I was worried that there was an attraction here because I've liked you for ages but thought nothing would happen, but like..." your head dropped onto his shoulder and you stifled the nervous giggles against his throat. "This feels really good? I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that you like me too."

You couldn't help the grin from pulling at your lips and he chuckled.

"Don't you smile at me like that," you said with mock annoyance, pulling back and playfully hitting at his chest. "It's all your fault. You've grown up hotter and even better as the years passed. You're too tall. Too charming. Too sweet. Just everything, it makes my heart jump and I like you, so what now, you idiot?!"

His hands curled tighter around your waist, fingers digging into your shirt and he gazed down at you, a large smile plastered across his lips. "Let's start dating and take things as we go."

"I really like the sound of that," you smiled.

When you returned home that evening, Yunho walked you to your front door and lifted you into a tight hug, inhaling your scent and holding you close for a few more stolen moments. It was only a kiss goodnight; a sweet, passionate, deep kiss that set your skin aflame.

His smile had never been brighter, and you touched your fingers to your lips, feeling the burn of where his kiss still tingled, even though it’d long disappeared. "See you in the morning, okay? I'll meet you at the office. Don't be late."

You giggled, "Don't worry. I won't be."

Now there you were, home alone, wanting nothing more than for those hands to return to you. You sighed contentedly as you slipped the jacket off your body and placed it carefully on your dresser, smiling at the scent that fills the air and reminds you of Yunho. The evening had been perfect, everything just like a fairy tale came to life. You felt on top of the world.

But, like any other person, that peace and serenity would not last forever, not on your side, and especially not for the monsters watching your every move.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

That dinging startled your sleep, but your eyelashes fluttered as the vibrating continued and you groaned, knowing it must be something important. When your phone sounded a second time, the vibration caused a shudder on the surface of your dresser, you reached over and tapped the screen.

The text had your eyes going wide and your blood turning into ice in your veins.

Unknown: Looks like you had fun with your new boy toy. So cute. I wonder what will happen next time.

Unknown: You have a gorgeous smile.

Unknown: Be careful, little doll. Monsters are watching you.

You weren't surprised that Yunho was early the next morning. In fact, you were already seated in the break room, sipping a mug of terrible coffee, half asleep as you stared out of the glass wall, your eyes fixated on the downtown buildings a few blocks away, mind and gaze drifting about aimlessly.

Yunho poked his head through the door, finding your slumped form immediately, that stupid, shy smile coming onto his face. When he joined you at the table, his arms stretched out on either side of you and pulled you gently into his chest. His chin rested on your shoulder as he breathed against your cheek.

"How'd you sleep?" he questioned, a large palm rubbing soothing, firm circles on  your arm.

"I'm so sleepy I might die," you buried your head in his chest. You were not going to tell him about those weird texts or that you tossed and turned all night, eyes glued to the screen in case the person tried texting again. How could you tell him that? Or the others?

He chuckled. "Well, don't die quite yet," his nose nuzzled your hair and his lips brushed your earlobe in a playful nip. "I need my girlfriend around, y'know."

Your heart stuttered, heat and flooded your cheeks. His girlfriend... You liked the sound of that. You glance over his features and study his expression as it lingers for a moment before it drifts back to that smug smile.

"Girlfriend... I like the sound of that," you playfully pushed his arm, biting into your lip and trying not to swoon, his reaction had you floating on cloud nine. "And what would my boyfriend say about the coffee at work, huh?"

"I'll run to the shop in a few," he stated, "Whatever my girl likes."

"Oh God, I really love the sound of that," you nodded.

He stood up straight, pulling you out of the chair and giving you a quick squeeze. "Come with me to get your daily dose of liquid sugar. It's on me."

"Are you guys always going to be gross now?" Wooyoung questioned, dramatically putting a hand over his heart, as you walked past his cubicle, laced hands swinging.

You nodded. "Absolutely. I'll just be loud so everyone can know how much my man adores me."

"Did I hear 'man'?" Hongjoong questioned from his own office space, popping his head out to investigate what had caused your shriek. "Did Yunho finally make a move, because God knows we were about ready to stage an intervention."

"Please, everyone knows she's wanted Yunho since the seventh grade," Seonghwa chimed in, poking his head over his cubicle wall.

"Come on," Yunho laughed, pulling you along to the elevator, "I think we've done enough entertaining."

You flipped a rude gesture over your head as you walked. "Bite me. See if I ever get you guys coffee!"

"What!? I didn't say shit!" Jongho yelped from the back, clearly getting caught up in the shenanigans.

You stopped as the two of you waited outside, leaning up onto the balls of your feet and placing a chaste, sweet kiss against his lips. He hummed happily and melted into the feeling of your kiss. His smile was radiant when you parted ways. He quickly leaned down again, pecking the tip of your nose and before reaching out to grab your hand, keeping them tangled while you both crossed the street towards the closest coffee shop.

The two of you stayed for an hour, enjoying the cozy atmosphere, drinking more coffee and hot chocolate. You enjoyed the company, and you simply couldn't wipe the smile off your face as he watched you from the other side of the table. He seemed in his own blissful thoughts and for a moment, everything felt unreal.

The entire day was filled with giggles and stolen moments. You may have disappeared to his cubicle for a make-out session at lunch when the rest of your coworkers disappeared. He sent suggestive texts throughout the day, making sure you knew just how interested he was.

God, his kisses were fantastic, addictive, and oh-so wonderful, it made the ache between your legs even harder to control. All day, all you could focus on was him and that smile, or his handsome face. Or the feel of his skin as you moved to help him. The way he leaned and followed you around like a lost puppy, unable to take his eyes or his hands off of you, stealing those gentle little touches whenever he could get away with it. It was driving you crazy. You were high on hormones.

Fuck, what was it about the beginning of a new relationship that made you feel drunk, and hyper-sexual? All the excitement and anticipation of what could happen, the chance of being alone or maybe sneaking away for something even more private? You felt like an addict and your thirst would likely be unquenchable.

By the time dinner rolled around, and the crew decided to head to a bar on the waterfront for food and drinks, you were floating on air and Yunho was hugging his arms tight around your middle, chin resting on your shoulder like some protective shield, a happy smile stretched across those gorgeous, pink lips.

"Jesus, you two look disgustingly cute," San chirped up, fiddling with a menu, his elbow leaning on the table.

"Yeah, can you please refrain from being so adorable? We're still processing," Yeosang joined, rubbing his face.

"I'm serious, it's sickly sweet. My heart might just fucking implode," Mingi punctuated his sentence by shoving a fry into his mouth.

"Jealous, much?" You leaned forward, eyebrows raising in challenge as Mingi pouted.

"What I'm wondering is," Yunho held up a finger, waving it around the table and frowning, "who has a pool going. Who guessed that this would happen and who thought we'd make a slow, sluggish journey through hell before admitting our feelings? Someone placed bets. Fess up."

The men shared glances, but not a word was said until Mingi finally gave in and folded. "I mean, you two have been making googly eyes at each other forever, so..."

Hongjoong sighed, giving in to the truth and pulling his wallet from his pocket. "Seonghwa, Mingi, Yeosang, and I bet this would be sometime around high school. Wooyoung and San thought it would have happened by our college graduation. And Jongho was confident that you'd get together sometime this year. So, I guess he won the pool."

"I'm a rich man!" the youngest declared excitedly. "Finally, something goes my way, because those idiots are paying for drinks."

"Dicks. All of you," you piped in, unable to hide the smile and the shake of your head. Your coworkers and best friends were such assholes, and it was hard to remember sometimes. But, you loved them, and they've always had your back. You always had each other's backs.

The group ate and shared drinks for a solid three hours. Things got fuzzy after that, though. A lot fuzzier. Everyone was laughing and taking photos. At one point Wooyoung even shoved a fistful of fried calamari up San's nose, causing you both to screech and sputter from laughter, or the food. You couldn't tell anymore, it was all a happy blur.

When you went to the restroom, a text popped up on the screen. Unknown number. Unknown, again. That dark feeling began to build inside your belly and you took the phone with shaking hands into the stall.

Unknown: Thought I saw something cute.

Unknown: Have fun.

"Who the fuck are you?" you whispered. But of course, no one answered you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he moved his head down further. His tongue flicked a hot and wet trail between your breasts, tasting the salt from your sweat before moving further to the other pert nipple, rolling the nub with his thumb and licking until the buds tightened.

It didn't take much. You'd been starving for his touch all day long, a whole twenty-four hours spent teasing and trying to remain professional in the workplace, and tonight, all you wanted was his touch. You were laying sprawled on the soft sheets of his mattress, clothes haphazardly strewn around the living room and down the hall where the two of you had started stripping them as soon as the door was closed and locked.

Those long, gentle fingers brushed back the strands of hair from your forehead, soaking in your flushed cheeks and hooded eyes with a playful grin. "Feel good, little one?" he questioned with a low, rumbling growl.

The endearment sounded good falling from his lips and you hummed. "Very. Don't stop."

"So demanding," Yunho chuckled, his fingertips brushing over your ribs and side, giving you goosebumps as he trailed a slow path back and forth until his fingers found their way around your soft belly and down towards the lacey fabric of your underwear.

"Want these gone, or on?" his finger looped through a tiny ribbon-like strap.

You smiled, cheeky and without shame, raising your hips against him. "What would you prefer, hm?"

"Honestly?" Yunho dipped his face closer to yours, breathing a sigh into the sensitive area and making you shiver. "I want to stuff your mouth with these pretty little things while I fuck the breath from you."

"Fucking hell, Yunho, I didn't know you were so... so..."

He bit your neck. "Kinky? You'll soon find out how dirty I can be, especially when my sweet, sexy girl is being so good for me and begging so pretty."

"Shit," your breath caught. "Go right ahead."

"Let me know if you get uncomfortable. We can always stop. My main priority is that you enjoy yourself, okay?" His voice was soft and sweet and a complete contrast to the huskier tone he had only seconds prior. It was a side of him you'd never witnessed before. He was gentle, sweet, and made you feel secure, safe, and precious. "You'll always come first."

His big hands slipped your lace underwear past your hips, off over your knees and ankles, balling them in his hands.

"Open wide, little one," he growled softly, a thumb running along your lip as your mouth fell open, "just like a good girl." He slipped the fabric past your teeth, smiling at you, "Oh, there's a good girl. Looking so pretty, panties stuffed in her mouth like a pretty slut."

A finger slipped into your folds, testing your reaction and finding slick desire pooling around his digits. "Fuck, baby, you're soaking, is that all for me?"

"Mmhm..." you moaned.

"Spread those legs nice and wide. Yes, just like that. What a good girl, such a pretty angel. My beautiful babygirl," a second finger dipped inside your dripping core, scissoring and making room for a third. Your hips rose to meet his touch, whimpering as the three fingers stretched your cunt deliciously and touched all the right places inside. His long fingers filled you, but didn't fully satisfy.

"Look at the pretty slut dripping onto my bed sheets. So messy, my perfect little girl. Spread open like a hungry, naughty slut, her sweet little cunt sucking in the three fingers I've been gracious enough to stuff in that tiny, soaked hole. What a treat you are. Can you even last till the real thing?" He curled his fingers upward and a scream tore past the lace, tearing, but the moan from your throat was lewd and loud. "Is this what you imagined? In our cubicles? Bent over, getting fucked over and over until my seed dripped from this perfect little cunt. Oh, the dirty things I have planned for my pretty little angel. And don't you worry, I'm not anywhere near finished with you."

Yunho brought the slick fingers back to his mouth, wrapping his tongue over them, cleaning them with a lust-filled gaze and the roll of his hips. Fuck, he was ready to explode right there at the sight.

"Would my little one like to taste?" He pulled the panties from your mouth, replacing them with his soaked fingers, his thumb brushing against your lips, waiting for approval, and you sucked eagerly, your own tongue joining and savoring the taste.

"Now turn over, hands and knees for your boyfriend," you squealed a little, scrambling to turn around for him, positioning your ass and knees and knowing full well you must look quite the picture. "Fuck. Baby. You really want it, don't you? Need that cock, and fast, huh?" His thick, bare cock, aligned at your entrance, hot and pulsing. A whine rose, needy and hungry. "Talk to me, little one."

"Fuck," you gasped, gripping the sheets in desperation, his voice was thick and hungry and the words, holy hell, the words. "I want it! I want it so badly! I just... please."

"Please, what, little one?" Yunho stroked his length along your folds, coating his cock with the ample slickness leaking from your core. "What is my girl begging for?"

"Fuck me!" you shouted, pushing your hips towards him, "Fuck your girl, please. Please, I'll be good for you, whatever you want!"

"Good answer, baby, such a good girl," his palms grabbed your ass and slid along your thighs and ass, landing on your hips in a firm grip. The wide head of his thick shaft pressed slowly into your cunt. In and out. His breathing hitched with a grunt when you took him in halfway. "Fuck you feel so good, shit."

Big. He's so big, the biggest you ever took, and the best. He stretched you in the most delicious ways and took you exactly where you wanted it. None of your past fucks even held a candle to this man, and he didn't even fully fuck you yet.

"So big... so fucking big." It was a gasp, a moan, a desperate plea, a whispered prayer on your tongue. You needed that thick cock more than you've ever needed any other.

He bottomed out and you groaned at the sudden pressure. "Good?" His voice was a growl and he leaned into you, licking and biting the curve of your shoulder blade and down to the small of your back.

"Fuck, so good." Your words were slurred from lust and ecstasy. "Oh, yes, right there, fuck."

"My perfect girl takes dick so fucking pretty," Yunho purred. His big hands settled on your back, massaging gently. raises tumbled from his lips, soft, husky groans and soft hisses, deep groans. He moved again, so fucking thick and stretching you more, that when his hips thrusted in sharply, you saw stars, arching and shattering under the touch.

Yunho was the name that slipped past your lips in a frantic cry and then a steady moan. 

"I got you, baby," he mumbled against your back, "just let me have you. I'm right here, babygirl."

You turned to face him and found his intense gaze meeting yours. He leaned forward, pressing his lips roughly to yours. His chest flattened on your back as he drove forward harder, faster, and rougher, setting a fast, greedy, and almost desperate pace, wanting to hear and taste every piece of you.

"T-this. This is what I-I needed. This is perfect. Need you. Oh, God... Yes," you were struggling to get words out.

"That's what I like to hear, tell me more. Fucking pretty girl, I think your tight little cunt should be filled with my cum, so no one else will have you. Would you like that, would you want me to fill you until you're sore and gaping?" He drove even deeper, so fucking thick and hard. He grabbed your chin and tipped your head to watch the desperation that crossed his beautiful, sweat-slick features and the lustful sparkle in his eyes.

You whimpered. "Yessss. Cum for me."

"Then watch the show, baby, gonna make that perfect pussy of yours gape and swallow every bit of me. You'll do that, won't you? Be good for me and keep it all warm and plugged up? Just for me," his thrusts turned sharp and erratic, bouncing your body along the mattress. You nodded, still feeling his palm gripping your jaw. The wet sounds were so loud in the otherwise silent room.

"Fuck, Yunho," your hands gripped onto his wrists, the muscles tensing and straining, working your core with everything he had. "Yes, keep going. Don't you fucking stop. I need it. Oh God, please don't stop."

"I'm right here, little one," Yunho groaned, voice tight and gravelly, his pelvis rocking and bucking, his breath shaking as he pressed closer. His face burrowed between the nape of your neck, his voice low and thick. "Gonna cum now, gonna fucking cum, gonna make a mess in that pretty little cunt. Going to paint you white, my pretty girl."

"Do it," the words came out as a whimper, "Wanna feel you."

Yunho let out a rough and broken growl.

His cum shot out in heavy ropes that coated your insides and slid past your opening, coating you both with an extra slickness. His hand lands over your mound, massaging and keeping a steady flow of pressure until finally, when his last release hit the deepest spot inside you, you saw that white-hot glow in the back of your eyes.

You broke. His name came out on the edge of a sob.

The world turned and spun. He lifted and cradled you against his chest. Pressing warm lips over your pulse and humming when you tucked your face into the hollow of his neck, spent, exhausted, and drifting into the fuzzy nothingness, he whispered tender words in your ear.

"It's okay," he shushed, a warm palm rubbing circles in the middle of your back, "Don't fall asleep on me yet, let's get you clean." He helped you rise and then ushered you to the bathroom. Once inside, he wrapped those massive arms around you again, pulling you back against his chest. "Doing alright, beautiful?"

"Perfect," you whispered.

His grip loosened a bit and his lips grazed against the back of your shoulder and a quiet huff followed. "You did wonderfully, little one." A hum was all that followed his praise. You were far too tired for anything else.

You barely remembered washing up and drying off. You had no clue how the two of you ended up snuggled, legs tangled up. Your head laid on his chest, while his large hand laid on your cheek, rubbing light circles and playing with your hair.

"Yunho," you whispered.

"Hm?"

"Kiss me again," and he did, bringing those soft, puffy lips to yours in a kiss that is no different, gentle, tender, slow, sweet, and exploratory, despite being together intimately already, you both craved that innocent sweetness and the reassurance it would bring.

"How are you doing? Was I too much, too soon?" Yunho asked quietly.

"Never," you scoffed, smacking his chest, "that was fan-fucking-tastic."

"Well, I aim to please," the grin in his tone was evident and infectious.

Snuggled in his arms, warm and protected, it didn't take long before the both of you were softly snoring away, peaceful and perfectly content. You didn't even see the notification on your phone as the little bubbles popped onto the screen.

Unknown: I bet his cock felt good buried inside that sweet, tight, little cunt. It looks lovely, all stretched and leaking.

Unknown: Sleep tight.

You drifted, blissfully unaware.

"A camping trip?" Your eyebrows creased, and your cheeks felt as though a blush rose at the thought.

"Hongjoong thinks it's a great opportunity for some relaxation and bonding after everything, what do you think?" Seonghwa sipped at his coffee as Yunho circled his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. "You guys can share a tent and put it far away from us."

"Like far away from us, far away. I mean it," Hongjoong motioned across the span of the field with wild and sweeping hand movements. "I don't need to hear shit, and especially don't need Wooyoung running his motor mouth."

"Bite me," the loud-mouth in question screamed, waving an arm into the air in retaliation.

"And, there's no pressure. If you don't want to, that's perfectly alright," Seonghwa shrugged, but his words weren't nearly convincing.

Yunho smiled. "No, we're totally in. As long as everyone promises not to come within like five miles of our tent in the middle of the night."

"Done deal," Hongjoong immediately stated.

Wooyoung snickered. "Maybe Y/N's loud moans would scare away the bears."

You scowled. "Would they scare the tiny gremlin boy, because, in that case, I'll happily be very loud."

The young male stood up, moving a finger back and forth between the two of you. "Watch your back, Y/N. I might just throw you in the lake while you're sleeping and make it look like an accident. This is war!" He stomped off dramatically towards his desk, pretending to throw a fit.

"Why is he so dramatic? Can we leave him at the camping grounds and pretend to forget him?" Jongho quipped dryly.

The camping trip did sound like fun, especially being able to enjoy it in a small group setting, and without worrying about running into unfamiliar faces, that dark presence that seemed to follow you, stalking and haunting, might stay away. A perfect solution.

The rest of the workday passed in relative normalcy, and before the hour struck five, you had left with Yunho by your side and plans of going shopping were set in motion.

"It's been such a long time since I last went camping," Yunho chattered, skipping around in front of you and leading the way into the sporting goods section, "think they have soundproof tents? Just in case? For when I get super frisky and fuck the breath out of my sexy girlfriend?"

"Jesus christ, Yunho, calm your jets," you laughed, patting his cheeks, "I doubt there's such a thing but maybe we can get lots of pillows to stuff in the corners and walls."

"Perfect," Yunho grins and kisses your palm.

The next two hours flew by, filled with tossing things in the shopping cart, giggles, and teasing. After you managed to find an assortment of things you might need and settled on what looked to be a sturdy tent, Yunho paid. Before heading home to drop off everything, the pair of you went clothes shopping, after deciding that the proper attire included comfortable pajamas, enough clothing to last, and in your case a nice bathing suit to lounge in the lake.

And when Yunho wasn't looking, you grabbed something that was a little... naughty for your favorite kinky giant.

After loading the car with camping and fishing equipment, gear, supplies, a few tents, and a cooler loaded with drinks and snacks, a text came in from the groupchat.

Seonghwa: Load everything into your trucks, we leave tomorrow at 8 am.

Wooyoung: My Jeep will go fast, Jongho doesn't hold back on the gas pedal!

Jongho: You don't drive me. Ever.

Hongjoong: WEAR SEATBELTS!

You: Yes, Joong dad.

Yunho: LOL

Mingi: Dad. Priceless.

Yeosang: He does remind me of an anxious dad.

San: Cannot agree more.

Hongjoong: ....

Yunho: She called him "Joong Dad," isn't that just perfect, Hwa?

Seonghwa: I'm gonna start a drinking game. Take a shot every time you call Joong, "Joong Dad."

Jongho: Count me the fuck in.

"Hmph," you huffed, scrolling through your notifications and catching another. Same number, unknown again. You blinked twice, then opened the message.

Unknown: So sweet, picking up supplies for your boyfriend. And did you have some naughty plans too? Good, so did I.

"Baby, ready to go home and have dinner?" Yunho pressed a soft kiss on the crown of your forehead.

Your head snapped up and your gaze met his, blinking at him. His wide smile met you and your own slowly stretched to match it.

"Ready," you said, feeling sick at the new unknown message.

He watched as you slid your clothes off after a long day and tossed them aside. His hungry eyes trailing over the curve of your soft belly, then your wide hips, then down the round curve of your ass. His gaze lingered on the lacy set of panties you'd picked up the night prior.

So tiny. They don't cover nearly enough of that amazing ass.

His dick twitched in his pants as his tongue darted out and swiped across his plump lips. Laying there, on your belly, not aware of the dark shadow lingering right outside your window, looking on as your soft cheeks and round globes jiggled at every movement, the arousal tinted his stare. His heartbeat sounded rapidly and the blood began flowing directly towards the aching part between his legs.

Slowly, carefully, silently, he tugged the zipper down and pushed the fly of his jeans to the side to wrap his fingers around his swollen cock. A soft groan caught in the back of his throat when he tightened his grip and pumped his length along the underside. Watching as you pulled out that favorite toy of yours since your boyfriend wasn't there.

Oh, was he so jealous right then of that lifeless toy, the silicone dick that slid in and out of your pussy, soaking in the wetness and preparing that greedy pussy for a cock of actual flesh and blood. His mouth watered as the silicone phallus sunk deeper into you. His fingers continued to run along his thick girth and grip the sensitive tip, slicked up with precum, spreading it down and adding friction to his movements. His gaze fixated on that damn vibrator. The thought of bending you over crossed his mind, but then decided that he wanted the pleasure of making you cum on his cock. Wanted the sounds of your cries muffled, wanted you to break into pieces at his hand and only his cock, his cock and nobody else's.

"Fuck yeah, just like that. Grab your tit and play with it like a good, little slut. Such a pretty pussy and ass. Bet my cock would slide in and out real fucking nicely if I bend you over the bed and slam in that wet hole until I fucking paint your insides and mark that tight, hot, soaked cunt." Pumping his length and gripping the swollen tip, he bit back the whimpers and the grunts, so desperately wanting to call out.

"Just a little longer," he groaned, his head tipped back, fighting to keep the volume low, "Gonna make you feel me and make you mine. Soon, baby, I'll make that cunt remember the shape of my dick, stretch you and split you open with my fat cock, make you suckle and worship my cock every chance I get, make you full with me."

"Yeah, babygirl. Gonna stuff your pussy and then plug the cum inside. Fuck. Cum all over that face, that pretty ass and tits." He groaned out.

"Shit," his cock pulsated and throbbed, aching and about to release, "nah, gotta wait."

Stopping his self-love session, he focused his attention back to the show, knowing that with this intensity, with every passing second he got closer and closer to the moment when he'll get the chance to bury himself inside your wet warmth and the deepest, darkest spots. You were always meant to be his, always belonged to him.

Because if he can't have you, no else ever will.

Pulling into the camping lot, the first sight of the trees had Yunho's face lighting up, and you swore that when he looked like that, his cheeks scrunched adorably and his smile a million watts, you had no control over yourself. Every part of him was absolutely precious. Your stomach flipped, and those pesky little butterflies fluttered around and around inside.

Parking alongside the line of trucks and smaller SUV's, everyone scrambled out. A collective yawning, stretching, and murmurs of agreement came in the form of mumbles.

"Gorgeous place, huh?" Jongho raised his hands up above his head, pointing towards the distant view, "Good day for hiking."

"Let's get some tents set up and then explore," Hongjoong murmured.

They set up the tents, arranging supplies and cots. They were in a rush to explore, not that you could blame them. You slipped on shorts and a t-shirt, running up after them, tugging Yunho to come with.

But with him in his element and nature all around, there were things that caught his interest, things that the group explored as they walked through the camping grounds.

"We should try to find a spot not so far into the woods," Yunho's voice pulled your focus and you turned around, meeting the warmth in his eyes. He stepped closer, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. "Sounds good, babe?"

Your eyebrow rose and an inquisitive hum echoed. "Whatever do you mean, honeybun?"

"Welllll," he leaned over, pecking a soft, fleeting kiss on your nose, "we can sit out by the trees, by the lake, watch the sunset..."

You blushed, suddenly knowing exactly where his words were headed. "I think I understand," you grinned. "We packed the earplugs for everyone, right?"

He smirked, cockily, pulling your face closer until his warm breath caressed your lips and teased a response from them, "Sounds like someone is thinking of getting busy?"

"Always," you answered, letting him press his lips to yours.

"Don't worry," his chest shook and his smile lit up the sky, "we have extra earplugs."

"Hurry up, lovebirds!" Seonghwa's shrill screech called.

A light giggle burst forth. "Ready to see the beautiful spot and pick out the perfect tree for our sinful deeds?"

"Too much!" You heard Hongjoong grumbling.

Yunho laughed, breaking free and sprinting, arms lifted in the air, towards Seonghwa, all smiles and eyes closed and sparkling, a few stray wisps of hair falling out and flying through the wind. He turned around, a hand held out to you. "You coming?"

And you ran, meeting his extended palm, lacing your fingers through his, and feeling warmth radiating from him, the bright shine and joy radiating from the man in front of you, loving him all the more, feeling happiness wash over you, too. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed you, a small gesture, but a tender one.

"Hey, now," Hongjoong snorted, walking back over towards you, "keep it PG."

The glare the younger man gave off only caused him to chuckle harder, doubling over in mirth, loud and boisterous, bouncing back from tree to tree.

"Okay," Yunho huffed, arms circling around your back and ushering you forward, "back to the serious business of finding a spot for this lecherous act that Hongjoong believes we have planned."

The snickers from your party began in waves and soon, you were swept up in the infectious fun, laughter surrounding and spilling out and echoing. Yunho pulled you further along, playfully, all lighthearted jests.

Hours later, sitting around the campfire and listening to a guitar, the melancholy strums filled the evening, and the stars sparkled overhead. Snuggled next to Yunho and singing along, you watched the fire flickering.

"What if," San suddenly jumped in and tapped a finger against Mingi's shoulder, "what if we played a game of truth or dare, like we did in high school?"

"No," Hongjoong was quick to shoot down the idea.

"Pleaseeeeeee," Wooyoung's puppy-eyes begged.

Yeosang sighed. "Oh, come on hyung, give in."

"And if they get truth or dare?" Hongjoong points at you and Yunho, "who knows what we'll get subjected to!"

Seonghwa grimaced. "True."

"Pleaseeeee?" Wooyoung cried. "Pretty, pretty pleaseeee?"

"Alright," Hongjoong gave in, a sign of Seonghwa and Hongjoong's long, suffering, and excruciating tale of their school experience. It had to do with those same puppy eyes, specifically, Wooyoung. "But the moment the lovebirds get frisky, I'm shutting it down."

You gave him the most angelic smile. "Roger that, Joong Dad!"

"And so the night continues..." Hongjoong groaned into his hands, elbows propped against his thighs and head tipping into his palms, "why do I enable this nonsense?"

And so the night progressed. Dares were made. Wooyoung sent San to a dark scary area, where the sounds of something like footsteps could be heard. The culprit? Jongho, shuffling his shoes quietly back and forth in the grass. Yeosang ran out to the water and ran around screaming, waving his arms like a mad man, only to do it again - per request from Mingi. Truths were told about silly childhood memories, the most embarrassing moments, the greatest fears, and a few love stories and regrets were spilled, as well.

Sleep eventually took hold of everyone, exhausted from the trip, the music, the singing, and the laughter. Slowly, one by one, each member retreated into their tents. You and Yunho followed, going hand and hand, holding hands. The night seemed to last forever with so much time, a perfect ending to a perfect day.

As soon as you had crawled under the thin sheet and blankets, Yunho pulled you close. He curled a palm around your hip and used the other to lay the crook of your neck onto his chest. You glanced up, pressing a tender kiss to his jaw and looking at the soft expression across his features, so beautiful, so gorgeous, like a dream that never faded.

And then you drifted off.

He watched you slept through the night, unable to take his gaze away. You didn't zip the tent all the way, it hung just loosely enough to where he could easily spy inside, a mistake on your part and he was completely taking advantage of it. The slow steady rise and fall of your chest as your breaths moved through you, a quiet exhale, your plump, perfect lips curling softly, he couldn't look away, couldn't stop staring at you. His fingers dug into his palm, leaving nail indents into the soft flesh.

How he wanted to caress and trail a gentle touch, feather soft, over that delicate skin, to have your heat spread and pulse beneath his palm. It's an agony he wanted to bury himself in, this perfect image of you asleep, so very delicate and tender.

And when his gaze followed the soft curves of your face, his cock is swelling and throbbing. He swallowed hard, imagining those pouty lips wrapped around the girthy, sensitive cock as his fingers wrapped in your hair and he fucked your face and mouth roughly, spilling himself over and over again until you were gagging and struggling for breath.

His tongue glided between his lips, his dick hardening even more from the lewd thoughts of what he could do to you. All the ways, places, angles, things. So, many things he would be doing. And by the end, you'll be addicted to the feeling of him.

Soft snores sounded through the clearing. Then a snort. And a muffled curse. A bark of laughter.

"Jongho! Keep it down." One of the men snarled from his tent. "Fuckin' christ."

And another zipped open and Mingi and Seonghwa stepped out.

"Let's walk around, get some fresh air," Seonghwa whispers as Mingi nods.

His head whipped around the area, knowing the area's layout, having the chance to scope out the place just recently. So, with the dark cover of night and the absence of those who were awake, he stepped back. It was time for him to disappear back to where he was hiding in wait. For as long as he needed to, he would remain waiting, still.

Stalking quietly, his large feet tiptoed out through the darkness and back into the shadows, as he'd always done.

Biding his time until the perfect opportunity presents itself.

Patience.

Days after the camping trip, you were at Yunho's place, waiting for him to get home and you sat on his couch, phone clutched in hand, your attention on the string of texts that appeared earlier. Your jaw clenched, eyeing the words, that unsettling feeling returning.

Unknown: Fun camping trip. Tell me, Y/N, which were your favorite moments? I especially loved when you and your boyfriend fucked each other with the tent flap open while the others were sleeping.

You blinked, suddenly a stone lodged in your throat. You could almost taste the sourness seeping through the text message. The fact that the stranger was lurking, following the group's movement and possibly tailing, was not lost to you.

Unknown: Would you have loved it just a little more if I were the one fucking your tight little cunt and you moaning my name, my big cock sinking into those silky wet walls, my hot cum filling you?

There wasn't a text for a couple of minutes, and then more came.

Unknown: Just let me try and guess, baby. How your soft, tight walls would constrict me, would massage and caress my throbbing cock. How my big dick would feel deep inside, opening you up, stretching that greedy hole, making a mess. I know you like a messy pussy. Would you beg me to cum inside you, fuck that juicy pussy hard and fast, mark your insides with my cum and fill your womb until you were full of me?

Unknown: Your mouth is even better. Can just imagine wrapping my fingers into your hair, that gorgeous face pressed against my balls. Sliding the fat tip between those pouty lips while you lick up the length, suckling on the underside of the thick, veiny shaft. I would make sure that you had trouble speaking the next day, sweetheart, from how hard I would be pounding and slamming the back of your throat, having my cock stuffed down your throat until you can only choke. Fuck, baby, gonna breed your holes until you cant ever take anyone else.

Unknown: What can I do to make you mine, babygirl?

You nearly vomited at those last words, crinkling your nose and screwing your eyelids shut to stop reading them.

But then another came.

Unknown: Be ready soon for my cock and cum, darling. It's going to feel so fucking good.

When the key in the door alerted you, your attention shot upwards and you shoved the phone in the side pocket of your bag and met Yunho's dazzling, gleaming smile and gentle gaze. It seemed like your troubles melted, worries forgotten.

"Did you wait long? Sorry I'm late." His wide, bright smile crinkled his eyes in the most precious way as he spoke, tossing the keys aside and toeing the shoes off and kicking them to the side.

Before you could get up, Yunho had plopped himself next to you, kissing you deeply, softly. His long arm curled around your shoulder, pulling you into his broad chest and nuzzling your cheek, and you grinned uncontrollably.

You pressed the palms of your hand flat to his chest, peeling off and leaning back, giving him a sweet smile, then curled both arms around him and laid the top half of your torso against the side of his arm and placed your cheek on the bone. "Did you have dinner already, baby?"

You shook your head. "Nope. Wanted to wait."

He laughed softly. "For me to come back?"

"Uhuh," you nodded.

"Then," his chest vibrated, and a soft purr thrummed. The rumbling, content and happy and low, is warm. "Let's get up, baby, and head to the kitchen. We'll cook together. Then watch a movie in bed. How does that sound?"

"Do I get dessert later?" You nibbled on his arm.

His deep chuckle responded. "I think a lot can be arranged. C'mon," and he stood, hands at your waist and pulling you up with him. "Let's get cooking and eating, and I'll save that for after."

Your heartbeat and stomach were swarming with the familiar butterflies. Even now, being around Yunho was a sensation. And not even that, not only that, but with those new, strange threatening and ominous text messages that crept up. For a moment, you pushed it aside. Allowed yourself to drift into the moment, wanting so badly to spend more time with Yunho.

After dinner, he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed lightly before leading you to bed. You buried your face into his shoulder, mumbling a faint sleepy sentence or two, not quite making out the exact words.

"And, dessert?" You raised an eyebrow, puckering your lips slightly and gesturing towards him.

He smirked, lifting you and throwing your legs around his waist, strong hands firmly holding your plump ass. Then the familiar sensation of being placed, ever so gently and delicately on the bed. With soft touches, hands roaming and sliding under the fabric, clothes were quickly stripped off.

"Can I have my dessert now? Pleaseeeeeee?" you asked, batting your long lashes and feigning a childish expression.

"Go ahead," he laughed as he leaned against the headboard and patted his lap, spreading his powerful legs wider to show his straining erection. "You were talking about this kind of dessert, right?"

"You read my mind, babe," you said, a teasing wink as you slid towards the middle of the bed and between his thighs.

A low grunt passed his parted lips and a heated stare was sent in your direction. You reached out, wrapping the palm and fingers around his thick cock, the veins pulsating against your skin, throbbing and eager. Leaning forward and licking the swollen head, the little bead of precum leaked out of the tip. Sliding the flattened tongue over the slit, your fingers working up and down and around the width, circling up to the sensitive head, feeling the heat and his eager pulse thrumming as it got harder.

"Shit," a sharp intake of breath. His head tipped to the back, and his teeth sunk into the lower lip, biting back the needy whimper.

Taking the fat tip in and hollowing your cheeks, sliding deeper, letting it hit the back of your throat, feeling it sink further and further in as his fingers cradled the nape of your neck. Your nails skimmed his thigh, catching onto the coarse hair before teasing the hot and velvety hardness, causing the flesh to throb between your lips and around his member, moaning from the taste and scent of the cock, swallowing around the heavy weight, causing the vibrations to send a shot of electricity.

His head thrown back, breathless gasps filled the silence of the room and hands caressed your hair. His hips bucked, slowly and carefully, as though afraid of pushing your limits too far. Your throat tightened around the swollen shaft, drool leaking out the corner of your mouth. Eyes wide, half-lidded and gazing up at him. His cock twitched in your mouth and he made the most sinful sound.

"I'm going to fill your mouth, darling. I want you to swallow it and everything that spills out, make sure to drink every last drop. It's your dessert, after all, right?"

Humming lowly, mouth still full, nodding faintly, a confirmation.

A hand lifted to the back of your head. Slowly, he caressed the soft strands, running his fingers through the locks, caressing the strands. Light scratches, soft and loving against your scalp.

And his body shook hips rocking up, in and out of your mouth, picking up a rhythm. "Swallow it, sweetheart. Drink up."

The warm cum spurted into your mouth as a throaty groan fell, a lustful gaze locked to yours, staring. Those warm, gorgeous, honey brown eyes were full of awe and love as you swallowed and licked every single drop that spilled. You squeezed and swallowed, tightly sucking, eager and willing and sucking him off, desperate and eager and swallowing again.

His thumb grazed your skin, tipping his thumb against the corner of your lips to brush away any semen leftover.

You sucked up every bit, licking the warm and soft tip, letting the fat head roll around on your tongue and using the tip to sweep away the last traces of salty seed. Sucking on the cock until nothing remained.

Leaning back, you watched the reaction, waiting to hear the praise, your boyfriend's blissed out expression. A smile bloomed, a pleased hum passed your lips as he reached out, grasping at your shoulders and tugging you to meet his gaze. "Did you enjoy your dessert? Did you have enough?" He laughed. "No? Guess I have to feed you more."

With ease, he flipped your pliant and small body, your back on the mattress. Pressing his cock along your entrance. Sinking the fat cock into you, taking his time, the wet sounds and hot walls clenching his dick. "My baby needs to be full and satisfied, right?" A breathless moan. The pure, lecherous tone of his voice sent heat into your cunt, pussy throbbing, the slick building up. He pushed the length slowly in, relishing the stretch as your walls hugged and swallowed him. He throbbed against you and pressed forward, cock reaching and sending sparks up and through, tearing apart all inhibition and breaking down that delicate restraint.

He fucked and rutted, thrusting, bucking, and moaning into your quivering, hot cunt.

You were already melting, and the lust only grew more intense, like a burning flame, as the sloppy and wet noises echoed around in the room, loud smacks filling the empty space.

The way his large, strong hands moved to your thighs, urging them to wrap around your waist. Using that to angle deeper, driving himself harder. Until his big cock is sinking into you. Overwhelming you completely as he fucked into your warm, welcoming cunt. He moved his hips faster and rougher, panting and desperately trying to catch his breath. His nails raked into your hips and dragged across your skin, leaving his claim. The noises and smells were all consuming, skin flushed and bruised, red splotchy marks coating your hips.

He felt so fucking good, slamming that girth deep inside you, hitting your spot and pounding it until you were trembling and moaning, almosting screaming, his name. Your body collapsed, turning and face-planting into the sheets as Yunho’s fingers kneaded and spread your cheeks wider. He grunted, eyes blown wide.

And he fucked you more.

"More?" You breathed heavily as his dick, grinding, the bulge filling and pressing along, pressing and touching your spot, teasing it. So big. He was too much, and it felt so incredible. His tip and heavy cock and balls and long shaft were brushing and smothering and his hands were everywhere. In your hair, on your body, everywhere.

"Take it, darling. You feel so good. So soft and good. Fucking amazing." The strain in his voice could be heard. But, god, it wasn’t just how incredible he felt, but his low, husky groans and gasps were taking over your ears. "You love this, baby, don't you? My huge cock fucking and thrusting and feeling good inside you, isn't that right? Can't you feel it?"

The air was suddenly hot, sticky and heavy. Everything felt heightened. He moaned as he kept fucking you, murmurs falling from his lips, his breathing rough as he stared down.

"Yunho, please. Cum in me. Cum, please. Feels so fucking good. Baby," you could barely breathe as his thick shaft shoved, harsh, hitting so deep. Your fingers were clutching and grasping at his back/ Yunho’s head dropped, pressing his forehead along your temple. "Gonna cum, shit, Yunho-"

"Do it," he commanded.

Throwing your head back, eyes clenched shut, shuddering and panting, his warm lips suckled and nibbled the skin along the nape of your neck. "Look at me." His husky, gravelly command was clear, your eyelids snapping open and vision settling on his molten chocolate gaze. "You're mine, okay? Say you understand. Tell me."

You nodded feverishly. "Yes. Only yours."

"Louder."

"Yes!"

"Good. You're mine. I love you, darling. You're everything to me," and then he kissed the side of your cheek, running his palms down along your sides, slowing down to tenderly brush his hand on your sweaty face, wiping the strand of dampened hair that clung. "Do you love me, darling?"

Your heart melted. His passion and fiery intensity is gone, replaced by this warmth that surrounded the space in between and spread. There was that soft, tender voice that had a hint of yearning and hopefulness. You smiled brightly at him. "Of course," you nodded softly. "I love you. I love you. I love you. So much, so, so, so, so much. Never want anyone else. Just you."

His bright, blinding smile and glowing happiness was what had you beaming and grinning back as his eyes turned into those beautiful slits, like a cat. Then, he laughed. It was you favorite sound. Laughter that bubbled, like music. Music, just for you.

You lost yourself in his touch and love.

And the strange text messages were forgotten, vanishing completely out of your mind.

Yunho looked at you, sprawled out, peacefully sleeping after a night of intense fucking and blissfully being knocked out by pure exhaustion. With careful ease, he slid himself to sit at the edge of the bed and picked up your cell phone discarded earlier on the ground. Scrolling through the messages.

What kind of face were you making when you read these messages? Were you disgusted by them? Discomforted? Out of place? Annoyed? Perhaps a bit unsettled? Maybe even just the slightest bit scared? He looked over his shoulder and glanced at your slumbering form.

Yunho was surprised to see that not once had it even crossed your mind that he may be the culprit, the one who would stalk, obsess and prey on his innocent little prey.

But you weren't innocent, were you? You were so damn filthy and lewd, fucking and sucking with abandonment, swallowing the cum and slurping it, begging for more and more and more, not caring who else is watching, just as long as his thick cock filled your greedy cunt. And look at you, lying there, as if you were his property. All his to use and abuse however he saw fit, and you loved it, begging him and moaning and crying for him.

Not once did the idea occur to you, to him, your loving boyfriend, would be the cause behind those messages.

But maybe one day that would happen.

Perhaps you would find out, find out in time, but he had plans for you.

"Yunho?" you murmured, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, blinking the sleep and tiredness away, unaware of the expression plastered on his face. You rolled over to stare, rubbing the edges and corners. "Where did you go?"

"I'm grabbing something to drink, baby. Go back to sleep. I'll be back soon," he responded, voice like the smoothest silk.

Without questioning it, you nodded, mumbled, rolling back over to return to dozing and he quietly walked over to the kitchen. Pulling open the cabinet and fishing a burner phone out of its hiding space, underneath the containers and hidden away, behind the rows. He powered it on and shot a short message.

Unknown: Darling, looks like you enjoyed your meal very much. I'll see you soon. I hope you didn't eat all that dessert. Because there will be a lot more for me to feed and give and for you to swallow.

When it sent, and he received a brief acknowledgement from your phone, he quickly turned the burner phone back off and put it back in its hiding space. Shutting the cabinet, he returned to you, placing your phone on the end table and plugged in to charge overnight, before settling in next to you.

Lifting his arm, he let you slip into his embrace, pulling your face towards his chest, hearing that adorable happy sigh slip through your mouth. When Yunho leaned in, he pressed his lips to your temple. "You're mine, right, baby?"

"Mhmm," you agreed, sleepy.

"Forever?" He stroked your hair. "Not just tonight or tomorrow. But you'll stay with me forever?"

You didn’t answer back immediately, but he felt your nod. It was slight, yet he felt the assurance. The trust you held. And for the time being, it was enough. He decided to hold you a bit tighter, feeling your warm presence at the very center of his heart, where no other could touch. This, to him, was an oasis in the desert of his life. And he felt warm.

Warmth that he vowed never to lose.

He let the wicked thoughts take him. What he had to do, and planned to do. What he could get away with. How he was going to slowly strip apart that innocence of yours, leaving behind a sobbing mess and destroying those bonds of reality.

He wasn’t doing it because he wanted to.

He was doing it because he must.

Because you were meant for him and him alone. You were his from the beginning and no one was going to get in the way.

He buried the darkness away and wrapped his arms more tightly and lovingly around you, letting himself feel the happiness and peace a little while longer before the shadows could reach again.

One thing was clear.

One fact remained.

You belonged to Yunho and Yunho belonged to you.

Even if he had to lock you up and throw away the key. 

[zhelin-thames]

The night was calm—eerily so, by Amity Park’s usual standards. Danny Fenton, better known to the ghostly underworld as Danny Phantom, leaned against the brick wall of an alley, munching on a cold burger. His patrol had been uneventful for once, and he was planning to call it a night when the sound of footsteps echoed down the street.

Danny didn’t need ghost sense to know someone was watching him. The footsteps were light, precise, and purposeful—not the aimless shuffling of a drunk or the hesitant steps of a passerby. Whoever it was, they were skilled. His eyes flicked toward the shadows, but he kept his posture casual.

And then the kid stepped into the light.

“Train me,” the boy said, his voice even and steady, though his face betrayed a hint of nervousness.

Danny blinked at him. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, dressed in black from head to toe with a hood shadowing most of his face. But it wasn’t just his age that gave Danny pause. It was the look in his eyes—sharp, cold, and determined. This kid was on a mission.

“No,” Danny replied flatly, taking another bite of his burger. He’d seen this kind of determination before—he’d been this kind of determination before—and he wasn’t about to let this kid follow in his footsteps. The vigilante life wasn’t just dangerous; it was a one-way ticket to pain, loss, and an early grave. Danny had survived by the skin of his teeth, but he wasn’t about to play Russian roulette with someone else’s life.

The kid didn’t flinch. “Train me.”

Danny sighed. “No.”

He turned and began walking away, hoping the kid would get the hint, but of course, he didn’t. The boy followed him like a shadow, his footsteps silent but deliberate.

“Train me.”

Danny stopped and turned to face him. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

The kid shook his head. Danny could respect that kind of persistence, even if it was annoying. Still, there was no way he was getting roped into this.

“Look, kid, I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but trust me, you don’t want this life.”

“Yes, I do,” the boy said firmly. “I’ve trained for years. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah?” Danny raised an eyebrow. “And what’s your plan when things go sideways? When you’re outnumbered, outgunned, and one mistake away from getting yourself killed? You think martial arts and stubbornness are gonna save you?”

The boy didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened, and Danny could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

“Fine,” he said, crossing his arms. “But we’re doing it my way, got it? First rule: what’s your name?”

The boy straightened, his back rigid with pride. “I am Bruce Wayne.”

Danny froze. Wayne. As in the Wayne family. The rich, fancy folks who owned half the buildings in Gotham. He stared at the kid, suddenly understanding why he was so serious—and why he’d probably been trained in martial arts since he could walk.

“Alright, rule number one,” Danny said, recovering quickly. “When you’re in your vigilante identity, you don’t give people your real name. You need to keep your identities separate. Got it?”

Bruce frowned, clearly not understanding the importance of this, but he nodded.

“Good. Now again—what’s your name?”

The boy hesitated, his brows furrowing as he considered the question. Finally, he squared his shoulders and said, “Batman.”

Danny blinked. Then he blinked again. The kid’s tone was serious—so serious that Danny might have actually been intimidated if not for the fact that his voice cracked halfway through the word.

Danny bit his lip, struggling to hold back a laugh. “Alright, Batsy,” he said, the nickname slipping out before he could stop himself. “Rule number two: no vigilante-ing until you’re twenty. Teenage vigilantes get killed. They make dumb mistakes, and trust me, I know. I was a teenage vigilante, and let me tell you, it’s not worth the risk.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “What? No! I need to protect Gotham. I can’t wait four more years to do that!”

It was the first time Danny had heard any real emotion in his voice. The boy’s face softened, just for a moment, and Danny could see the weight of the world pressing down on his narrow shoulders. He wanted to argue, to convince Danny that he was ready, but Danny shook his head.

“Nope,” he said firmly. “You wait until you’re out of the ‘teen’ range, or I don’t train you. End of discussion. And rule number three, which is kind of an extension of rule number one: don’t give out personal information in your vigilante identity. I know you’re sixteen now, and I wasn’t even trying to get that info out of you.”

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line, and a low growl escaped his throat. Danny couldn’t help but think he sounded like a cranky puppy.

“Fine,” Bruce muttered, clearly realizing he wasn’t going to win this argument. But Danny could tell he was already filing everything away, committing the rules to memory. The kid was smart, no doubt about that.

“Good,” Danny said with a grin. “Training starts tomorrow, Baby Bat. Meet me at Nasty Burger. Civvies only.”

Years later, Bruce Wayne stood in the Batcave, his head pounding as he argued with a pint-sized acrobat perched on the Batcomputer.

Bruce opened his mouth to argue, but Danny was already walking away, his laughter echoing down the alley.

“Dick,” Bruce said, his voice low and measured, “you’re not going out there. You’re nine. You wait until you’re twenty, and that’s final.”

Dick Grayson crossed his arms, his small face twisted into a defiant scowl. “But you didn’t wait until you were twenty!”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s different.”

“No, it’s not!”

Bruce groaned. He was starting to understand how Danny must have felt all those years ago.

Meanwhile, in Amity Park, Danny Fenton paused mid-bite of his burger. A strange sensation washed over him—a tingling at the back of his mind that he hadn’t felt in years.

“I don’t know where or why,” Danny muttered, narrowing his eyes at the distance, “but I just know Baby Bat is doing something dumb again. And I don’t like it.”

It had been years since Danny Fenton had reluctantly taken on a certain sixteen-year-old Bruce Wayne as a trainee. The so-called Baby Bat had been stubborn, determined, and relentless in his pursuit of justice—even if Danny had been equally stubborn in making sure the kid didn’t get himself killed before he turned twenty.

Now, years later, Bruce Wayne had turned into Batman—the Batman. The name was spoken in hushed tones across the criminal underworld and was plastered on the news every other week. Danny couldn’t help but feel proud… and maybe a little exasperated.

He’d done his job. Bruce was alive, competent, and running Gotham like a pro. Danny had thought his days of worrying about Baby Bat were long behind him.

But that thought was obliterated the moment Bruce reached out through a very specific secure channel.

Danny leaned back on the couch in his apartment, half-listening to an old horror movie playing in the background while munching on chips. His ghostly senses were quiet, and for once, life was calm.

That’s when the Bat-symbol flashed on his computer screen.

He groaned loudly, almost spilling his chips. “I knew it. I freaking knew it. I should’ve ignored this brat the first time he said ‘Train me.’”

Reluctantly, Danny got up and opened the line. The face staring back at him was unmistakable—Bruce Wayne, older now, with sharper angles and a jawline that could probably cut glass. Despite the years, Danny immediately recognized the faint glint of determination (and maybe stubbornness) in his eyes. Some things never changed.

“Bruce,” Danny drawled, leaning against his desk. “What do you want now? Did you break something? Or someone? Or are you just here to tell me about how Gotham still sucks?”

“Danny,” Bruce said, his voice as grave as ever. “I need your help.”

Danny squinted at him, skeptical. “Help? With what? You’re literally Batman now. What could you possibly need from me?”

Bruce hesitated for a moment, and Danny almost laughed. He’s nervous. What the hell is going on?

Finally, Bruce spoke. “It’s my family.”

Danny blinked. “Your… family?”

“They’re... difficult,” Bruce admitted begrudgingly, and Danny couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He laughed so hard he had to clutch his sides, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“You? You, the most difficult person I’ve ever met, are complaining about difficult family members?” Danny wheezed. “Oh, this is rich.”

Bruce didn’t look amused. “Danny.”

“Alright, alright,” Danny said, wiping his eyes. “What’s the deal? You’ve got Alfred, right? Let him handle it.”

“This is different,” Bruce said, and Danny could hear the faintest edge of discomfort in his voice. “You’ll see when you get here.”

And with that, the line cut out.

Danny stared at the blank screen for a moment before sighing. “I swear, if he’s gotten himself in over his head again…”

Danny arrived at Wayne Manor via ghost portal the next evening, stepping out of the swirling green vortex in his Phantom form. The grandeur of the place hit him immediately—it was just as ridiculous as he remembered.

He floated down into the Batcave, landing silently behind Bruce, who was reviewing a crime map on the massive Batcomputer.

“Alright, Batsy,” Danny said, his voice echoing in the cave. “What’s the big deal?”

Bruce didn’t even turn. “They’re here.”

Danny was about to ask who when he heard a series of rapid footsteps and loud voices approaching from the tunnels.

“—I told you to stop touching my stuff, Todd!”

“Like I care, Drake!”

“You’re both insufferable,” another voice cut in, colder and sharper.

“Guys, please!” someone else chimed in, clearly exasperated.

And then they were there—a collection of teenagers and young adults, each looking like they belonged in their own action movie.

Danny blinked. “Bruce,” he said slowly, turning to face him. “Why do you have an army of kids?”

Bruce sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as his children assembled in front of Danny.

“Danny, meet my… family.”

The first to step forward was the oldest—a grinning man in his twenties with an acrobat’s grace and bright, mischievous blue eyes. “Dick Grayson,” he said, holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Danny shook it, eyeing him warily. “The original Robin, huh? Bruce talks about you sometimes. Says you’re the ‘good one.’”

Dick smirked. “Good to know I’m still the favorite.”

“Only because you don’t give me headaches,” Bruce muttered.

The next kid to step forward was a young man with a white streak in his dark hair, a leather jacket, and an air of barely-restrained chaos. He didn’t offer a handshake.

“Jason Todd,” he said, his voice rough. “And you’re the guy who taught Bruce how to nag, huh?”

Danny snorted. “And you’re the one who probably causes most of his headaches.”

Jason smirked. “Damn right.”

The third was a lanky teen with sharp eyes and a smartphone glued to his hand. “Tim Drake,” he said, not looking up from the screen.

“You’re the tech guy, I’m guessing?” Danny said.

Tim nodded distractedly. “You could say that.”

Next was a young boy, no older than ten, with a scowl that could probably scare grown men. He crossed his arms and glared at Danny.

“Damian Wayne,” he said. “Biological son.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Ah, the little terror Bruce never shut up about.”

Damian bristled. “I am no terror—”

“Yes, you are,” everyone said in unison.

Danny turned to Bruce, his arms crossed. “So… what do you need my help with? Because it looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

Bruce sighed heavily. “They don’t listen to me. Half the time, they’re arguing. The other half, they’re trying to outsmart each other—or me.”

“And?” Danny prompted.

“And,” Bruce said reluctantly, “I thought you could help… mediate.”

Danny blinked. Then he started laughing again. “You want me to babysit your army of vigilantes?”

“It’s not babysitting,” Bruce growled.

But it absolutely was.

Over the next few days, Danny found himself in the middle of Bat-family antics. Whether it was Jason and Tim bickering over whose tech was better, Dick trying to wrangle everyone for a “team-building exercise,” or Damian threatening to fight literally everyone, Danny was beginning to realize why Bruce looked so perpetually exhausted.

But for all the chaos, there was a sense of family here that Danny couldn’t help but admire. It reminded him of his own ragtag group back in Amity—Sam, Tucker, Jazz, even Vlad in a weird way.

Eventually, Danny pulled Bruce aside. “You know,” he said, “for all your complaining, you’ve built something pretty amazing here. They’re not just your team—they’re your family.”

Bruce looked at his kids, a rare flicker of softness crossing his face. “I know,” he said quietly.

Danny grinned. “Well, you’re still a pain in the ass, but I think you’ve done alright, Batsy.”

And so, Danny’s unexpected reunion with Bruce turned into a week-long crash course in dealing with the next generation of vigilantes. By the time he left, he was exhausted—but also a little proud.

As he stepped back through his portal, he shook his head with a smile.

“Baby Bat really did grow up, huh?”

Somewhere in the Batcave, Bruce smirked.

[mr-mercutio]

I remember once I was at a T-shaped intersection, crossing on the right side of the T from top down. About a second into walking into the street, y'know - after waiting for the lights to change and the walk signal to come on, this guy revs up and pulls into the intersection, ready to turn right. Already breaking the law of course, pulling right into the street before I was all the way across. And then he leans out of his window and starts screaming at me to hurry up and get across the street.

I didn't even have the opportunity to check for this fucker to see if he was going to let me cross. Put aside that I had right of way and had waited for the lights to change, he hadn't even BEEN at the intersection, just came zipping down at me.

I didn't feel terrified until after the whole thing was done. In the moment I was just so angry because how dare he, honestly? How dare he come so close to being able to just murder me with his fucking truck and then get mad at ME because I'm slowing him down by a few seconds?

I was so mad that I actually stopped in the middle of the crosswalk and looked him dead in the eyes. And I wish this was the part of the story where I could say he looked ashamed of himself, where I could think maybe he learned something that day that would change how he drove or treated people. Maybe he looked back at me and realized how much power he held over my life in that moment and mouthed "sorry" at me.

But no, he just got more angry and leaned on his horn and called me a faggot. I must have been the worst part of his day, the way he was acting.

So I just gave him the finger and resumed crossing the street, albeit at a snail's pace because I'm a petty little bitch when I'm mad. And as soon as there was any clearance behind me he went zooming off, still screaming at me. I could see another driver waiting at the intersection, one who had a red light still, look absolutely horrified. I think she felt more shame as a driver than this guy did.

And seeing her face was when I felt scared. When the reality dawned on me of how easily I could have been killed in that moment just because I was an inconvenience to an asshole. I slowed him down for an extra 20 seconds, and he treated me like absolute trash. He could have killed me so easily. The only power I had in that moment was to make his day just a little bit worse by extending the inconvenience a few more seconds. And I took that power gleefully in the moment, but I really shouldn't have. I should have just crossed the street because what if he did decide then to run me over? I would love to say that even this douchebag supreme wouldn't be that bad, but honestly? How could I know? If he was that willing to fly off the handle with zero provocation, I shouldn't have trusted that he wouldn't run me down for slowing down and giving him the finger. But taking the tiny bit of power I had in that moment felt really good and necessary in the heat of the moment.

I dunno, I don't have a good lesson here. I don't regret it in the slightest but I do also think it wasn't the safe thing to do. It wasn't worth the risk of dying in that moment.

Some people have no concept of the power they hold. This story is far and away not the only time I feel like I've come close to being killed by drivers who were stupid, angry, mean, or just plain not paying attention. I wish more people would remember that they're piloting a killing machine at high velocity and I'm just a little fleshbag out in the open air. I have to be so careful, and it makes me a bit bitter to watch the drivers who blithely zoom around and forget to stop or slow down or check for pedestrians like me.

Nothing exposes the inability of people to navigate power imbalances quite like the relationship between drivers and pedestrians.

For example, I just had a driver get screaming-at-me mad because I stopped walking at a slip lane to make sure he was going to stop. And like, buddy, I know I have the right of way, but if I assume you are going to stop and I guess wrong, I will literally die. Whereas if I wait to see if you're actually going to slow down, I am just delaying both of us by a couple of seconds. And that might have more to do with why I made the choice that I did than my being a stupid bitch who needs to learn the rules. Like, if you can't understand why the fact that you could effortlessly accidentally kill me (and likely face no consequences) means I am reticent to assume the best from you, maybe you just shouldn't have any power over anyone ever.

[redeemingvillains]

of magic & mayhem - mattheo riddle

summary: the strongest wizard of your age also happens to be hogwarts' playboy, and when he sets his sights on you, you realize neither of you have a choice in the matter.

word count: 3k

a/n: this is like nine of my concepts all mashed into one! heavily influenced by my re-read of fourth wing in preparation for onyx storm coming out, anyone who wants to scream about that in my inbox, please do <3

The Great Hall echoed with the excited chatter of friends and classmates and the general cacophony of breakfast; the sounds of scraping cutlery and the clink of dishes and goblets. You and Pansy sat in genial silence as you read your book and she eyed the gossip column of the Daily Prophet.

You were so totally transfixed on your book that you didn't see the looming figure in front of you until he placed his hands on the oak table and leaned casually across it into your airspace.

"Good morning" he drawled smoothly in a deep voice that caused you to glace up only to see Mattheo Riddle's large amber eyes twinkling at you, matched with a smirk that made you feel like you had pixies in your stomach.

You could smell his cologne from this distance, an undeniable mix of woodsmoke, evergreen and cinnamon that made you feel heady.

"Pansy" he acknowledged, nodding at her as she glanced up at him with a surprise that matched your own.

"Mrs. Riddle" he said, acknowledging you as his electric gaze found yours. You felt a deep blush on your cheeks, even as your face scrunched in confusion and your eyes searched his face for a hint of a joke, finding none.

"What did you just call me?" you asked, cocking your head. As much as you tried to supress it, a small smile graced your lips, which didn't go unnoticed.

"What?" he said in mock surprise. "You don't like it? I think it's perfect."

A pause.

"It suits you" he said confidently. He winked at you as your eyebrows shot up and he turned and walked away without another word.

You turned to look at Pansy who was open-mouthed gaping after him before turning to look at you.

"What was that!?" she exclaimed, excited, like you knew something she didn't.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes despite the hammering of your heart in your chest.

"He's a complete flirt, Pans, I'm not putting a lot of weight in whatever he's woken up and decided to say today."

But even as the words came out of your mouth, you couldn't help but feel excited that you'd caught his attention, even if you knew how delicately dangerous it could be.

"But Mrs. Riddle?! Please. I am dying oh my gods!" she said.

"No, we're not even thinking about this. Not unless you want to listen to me cry myself to sleep in three weeks when I've completely fallen for him and he's moved on to someone else. We all know how this goes and I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."

Pansy pursed her lips as she bounced in her seat with excitement, like she was going to explode.

"Okay, but maybe, just hear me out—" she started.

"—No" you said emphatically, as much to her as to yourself.

She stuck her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture.

It was no secret you were sought after; you had your fair share of dates and suitors. And it was no secret that Mattheo Riddle took the concept of incredibly hot fuckboy to another level, which is why, despite his comment and increasingly insistent stares you kept your distance.

Try as you might to forget what he said, or the way his dark eyes had twinkled mischievously as they drank you in, you found your thoughts drifting to him more times than you'd care to admit, and he had no intention of making it any easier for you, because now every time he saw you, he made a point of using your new nickname.

"Good morning, Mrs. Riddle" he said as he passed you in the Great Hall the next day.

"Have a good day, Mrs. Riddle!" he shouted from the opposite side of the common room, which garnered a significant amount of attention and whispers.

"Let me get the door for you, Mrs. Riddle" he said, pushing your classmates out of the way to do so.

"Mmm, gorgeous as ever, Mrs. Riddle" he whispered walking by you in the library in a way that felt like the words themselves danced over every inch of your body.

Pansy was nearly inconsolable over the situation, egging it on eagerly and even picking it up herself.

"Good night, Mrs. Riddle" she said to you as you crawled into bed in your shared dormitory.

"Lay off it, Pansy! Gods" you replied, even as you grinned like an idiot to yourself.

But then she wasn't the only one.

After less than a week of it, the rumor spread like fiendfyre and now Mattheo's friends were smirking at you in the corridor, waving teasingly to you in the common room and offering you every ounce of preferential treatment befitting of the name: knocking Potter off his chair when he took your seat in Potions, forcing a first-year to stand outside your dormitory holding your favorite latte every morning, and ensuring you had a coveted first row seat at their quidditch matches, including the House Cup, which you were excitedly getting ready for when Pansy burst into your room.

"You will never guess what I just heard" she said, grabbing you by the shoulders.

"What's that?" you asked, humoring her frenetic energy.

"Astoria Greengrass having a sob in the girls lav. You know how she and Mattheo have hooked up a few times?—"

You didn't, in fact, know that and couldn't help the pang of jealousy that gripped your chest.

"—Well I heard her telling Penelope Clearwater that he says he doesn't want to anymore and he told Harmony Norman and Maria Warner the same thing!"

Your face tangled in disgust.

"How many girls is he hooking up with? And why do you look so happy about it? What a mess…" you said, sighing as you turned to resume your makeup.

"Why, all of a sudden is he breaking all of them off, hmm?" she said, cocking an eyebrow at you in your mirror.

"I don't know" you said shiftily. "Maybe he's trying to be a better person?!—"

"—Or maybe he has his eyes set on someone else?!" she said insistently. "You know, someone he's given a special nickname to, his name to?"

You opened your mouth to argue with her but you couldn't deny the logic of her statement.

The boys pulled it off, sweeping Gryffindor in the House Cup for the first time in years and the ensuing celebration was electric.

The music in the common room was loud enough to sway the chandeliers in the ceiling, to feel the bass vibrating in your body.

Every Slytherin you knew and quite a few friends from other houses were there, the normally cavernous room filled in a way that made it feel like some sort of night club, bodies covering every inch of space, melding and weaving between each other and raising the temperature of the normally dank dungeon air.

You couldn't help but search the flashing lights and otherwise utter chaos for Mattheo and you didn't have to look for long the way he stood a head taller than almost everyone in the room, even surrounded by his large teammates; not to mention the way they were walking around like kings, taking turns chugging champagne out of their trophy, raucous, rowdy and loud as people cheered around them.

Mattheo himself was in rare form, his handsome curls were slightly askew and his cheeks were rosy from the alcohol and general liveliness of the night. He was dressed in a fitted black tshirt and dark pants and was exuding an energy that was magnetic, even from where you were standing; undeniably, your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of him.

Had you gotten a little dressed up? Of course. It was a celebration, an occasion, why wouldn't you? But as you wound through the sea of bodies, fingers twined in Pansy's, you garnered enough stares and double-takes that had you thinking you may have slightly overdone it.

"Oh, okay queen!" Pansy had said the minute she'd seen your outfit, the way you'd done your makeup and styled your hair, knowing, perhaps, exactly what or who had been on your mind.

You stopped to grab a drink and your cup had barely touched your lips before two guys came up to you that you recognized vaguely from the year below you. They were admittedly cute and you smiled as they compliment you and chatted with you. You leaned in closer to hear them over the music and the crowd and the one closest to you ducked his head toward you when you felt a tingle run from the base of your neck down your spine and a large, warm hand wound its way around your waist, pulling you firmly backwards into what felt like a pliable brick wall. You were startled for only a moment until you caught the undeniable scent of evergreen, of cinnamon.

"Brian is it? Blake? Blaire? Why don't you go get a drink, buddy?" his voice rumbled near your ear, more of a command than a suggestion as Bradley's eyes shot up over your shoulder to the shadow looming there and nodded quickly, retreating.

"Aww" you pouted sarcastically as you turned around. "He was nice, we were having fun!"

You met Mattheo's eyes which were so dark they looked nearly jet black as they glared at you. Had he been jealous?

And like he could read your mind his lip twitched and he rolled his eyes.

"Even if he had a chance with you, which, let's be very clear, he doesn't, he wouldn't know what to do with it."

"And, let me guess, you would?" you asked teasingly.

"Care to find out?" he asked matter-of-factly.

You felt a wave wash over you from your head to your toes, your body tingling with his proximity, with the way his eyes met yours directly, unfaltering despite the myriad distractions around him.

Gods yes you thought, even as you bit your bottom lip, teetering on the edge of a decision you knew you couldn't come back from.

His eyes shamelessly fell to your lips and you suddenly realized that his hands had never left you as they flexed at your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was holding onto you for purchase.

"C'mon" he said, not waiting for a coherent reply from you, which you may never have been able to form had he kept looking at you that way.

His hands left your body only long enough to tangle his fingers in yours and hold them tightly, pulling you behind him as he headed into the sea of bodies on the dance floor, weaving between some as others offered him a wide berth and a congratulations when they realized who he was.

Then, like he was moving in slow motion, he turned to face you, twining your fingers further in his as he pulled you into him, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you were flush to his chest, and his other hand found your waist again, his grip firm and unyielding as he held you to him as if you would argue or try to be anywhere but right here.

You could feel every dip and curve of his body against yours as you moved against each other in a way that felt perfect and also not nearly enough, even though you couldn't get any closer.

You let the hand on his shoulder wander to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling into the curls there and even though the music was loud enough that you could barely hear yourself think, you could feel as much as hear the growl that released in his chest as his hands tightened on you in a way you were certain would leave a bruise.

The lights flickered for just a second, and a few people stopped dancing and shouted but his eyes never left yours, the only acknowledgement he offered, a small grimace on his face, which made you want to kiss his lips back into his irritatingly perfect smirk.

He leaned in, pressing his cheek to yours as his lips hovered to your ear.

"You look stunning, Mrs. Riddle."

He leaned back and you could see his signature smirk gracing his lips again. You opened your mouth to reply as your eyes met his, but your head was swimming at this point. Everything was him all at once, his body against yours, taught and warm to your touch, his breath on you that smelled like cinnamon gum, his cologne, you felt yourself melting into him at his words, closing the only remaining inches between your hips as your hands came to his face and your noses brushed — and then the lights went out in earnest, drowning you in complete darkness.

"Fuck" you heard him mutter strongly before grasping your hand in his as he started to pull you through the imperceptible forms of people who were yelling and shouting, blazing a path through them, pushing people aside brusquely where necessary. He was on a war path and your feet moved quicky to follow him as he cleared most of the crowd and headed directly for the boys dormitory.

He pulled you into a maze of adjoining corridors before swiping his hand causing an approaching door to fly open as he pulled you in behind him. You were barely through it before he swiped his hand again and it slammed closed behind you, forcefully, the energy pouring off of him in a way that reminded you just how strong of a wizard he was, and exactly why absolutely nobody fucked with him.

He turned to you finally, his chest rising and falling as he gripped your waist and pushed you gently against the closed door with a thud. He let his other hand rest beside your head, caging you in. The look of lust on his face was still there, tangled with the same grimace from before, like he was angry, like he was holding something in.

"Mattheo...?" you whispered and he ducked his head away from you, his eyes squeezing shut as the hand at your waist squeezed again, the touch sending an electric tingle up your side that made you gasp.

His gaze came back to you and then he was leaning in, his nose brushing yours again and your hands came to wind around his neck. You caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips as they hovered over yours, barely grazing them, and you could feel static electricity there between you, the air itself alight with energy, vibrating. The temptation was driving you mad, your chest visibly rising and falling against his own and then his lips fell to yours, warm, soft and urgent.

He took your face in his hands and pressed you into the door and you hummed against him. The lights in the room flickered once, then twice, and then rapidly like you were in a horror film before they went out completely, drenching you both in a velvet darkness that was somehow welcoming, like you could feel the shadows themselves dancing over your body, caressing you, enveloping you.

You felt his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened up to him. Your tongued flicked against his and a freezing gust of wind blew papers, books and quills off his desk, hurling them to the ground with a clatter and bang. Mattheo never stopped, his tongue continued to glide over yours and he kissed you like it was the last godsdamn thing he'd ever do.

He hoisted you up so your legs wrapped around his waist and he pressed you back into the door before releasing your lips just long enough to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck that he lavished in a way you were certain there would be a violet bruise in the morning.

Your eyes fluttered in pleasure, lost in him for a moment until you caught sight of the room around you and you froze.

It was midnight black but for the moonlight coming through the window which cast everything in a ghostly shade of white, but what caught your eye was that every object in the room was floating, adrift in the air, the bed, the desk, the bookshelf, all hovering feet off the ground. Lightweight objects like clothing, quills and his books floated higher and higher and then you realized that it was cold enough to see your breath in front of you.

"Mattheo" you breathed, trying to get his attention. Your hand carded through his curls and the chair in the corner took flight.

Wait. Was this him?

"Mrs. Riddle?" he murmured in your neck.

"Mattheo" you said again, a stronger urgency in your voice causing him to relent and look up at you with a puff of air of his own.

"Fuck" he said. "It's – yeah. That's me. Well, that's you actually."

"What?"

"S'no secret that my magic is ... strong. And I'm well practiced at controlling it. With... one exception."

He took your hand and placed it over his chest where you could feel his heart hammering.

You searched his eyes and his eyebrow quirked until he gestured to his room. As if to say 'see?'

This boy had quite literally lost his control at your touch.

"Wait, the lights? The music?" you asked, a small smile on your lips at the realization.

"When you touched me, I just—" he shook his head, exhaling another puff of cold air. "—See what you do to me, Mrs. Riddle?" he said.

"Gods, when are you going to stop calling me that?" you laughed, even as you looked at him and traced a finger over his lips.

"When it's true" he said simply.

You looked confused for a moment until he leaned into you again, his magic radiating off of him.

"What?" you breathed.

"When you're mine, and it's official and I won't have to spend all of my free time reminding everyone you're mine, they'll know. Until then, I'll hedge my bets."

He kissed you.

"Mmpf, but what if I didn't want you to stop?" you murmured against him.

He pulled back to look at you, scanning your face for any sign of a joke, and finding none as your eyes connected with his and his lip quirked in a smile.

"Well, princess,” he whispered against your lips, ghosting them with his, teasing you before biting your bottom lip gently in a way that sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the freezing air.

“Whatever Mrs. Riddle wants—” he murmured, kissing you fully, luxuriously, “—Mrs. Riddle gets.”

ˋ°•*⁀➷ I have the tiniest little epilogue that I'll post soon, let me know if you want to be tagged!

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @loverliner

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 3 - Working With the Enemy

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: mentions of wounds, medical stuff.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

They make you leave the room with the mohawk guy while they talk. 

It’s been at least 10 minutes you’d wager. They’re deciding your fate. It makes you restless, bouncing your leg up and down while you hear their muffled voices on the other side of the door. You look over at the man in the room.

You could take him, you wouldn’t have to do much just surprise him, give yourself enough time to run out the house. Maybe if you knock him hard enough you can grab his weapon. He’s not even holding a weapon at you, his arms are crossed. 

You’re quick, you don’t know if you’re quicker then him but his pistol is just sitting her in his holster. 

“See something you like?” He asks, snapping you out of your head, you look up at him.

“Why join the army when your country is not at war?”

“Why not pick a side when yours is?” You scoff, shaking your head. Like he would understand what it’s like. Just like the Americans, there always has to be a good and a bad. 

“You’re not british?” You ask. 

“Scottish.” He replies. You didn't think you were going to get a sincere reply, you smile. He looks over at you and you look away, back to the door.

“Ever think about what’s going to happen when the war ends?” He asks. You laugh, you don’t really mean it, it just seems like such a stupid question. 

“I’ll be long gone before that happens.” You say crossing your arms and leaning back in the chair. You’ve dropped the idea of escaping it seems. Maybe you can get more info from them, useful info. A Lot of people would pay good money for SAS intel.  

“Really? Where would you go?” He asks like he’s interested all of a sudden.

“America, Russia. Somewhere with a fuck load of land.” 

“Why?” 

“Farming sounds like fun. Being self-sufficient, that kind of thing.” You say. He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe you. 

“What about you? Got any dreams or are you planning on dying for your country?” You ask bitterly. What makes him think he’s any better than you? Because he took an oath? Fuck him. 

“Who knows, might do. What’s better though a quick fulfilled life or a long unfulfilled one?” He says. You frown at him. What the fuck does that mean?

“What? Were you a psychologist in another life?” You ask, looking away. He chuckles, you ignore him. You both sit there in silence for what feels like ages. You can still hear mumbling, they’re still talking. They could be deciding to execute you. You’re the enemy, they don’t even need to make it look like an accident. Boom bullet in your head job done. 

You just hope it’ll be quick. Or maybe they’ll decide to torture you for intel, not that you know much. 

“What’s your name?” You turn to the man. 

“Soap.” 

“Soap? Like what you wash with?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. He nods, you scoff, shaking your head and looking away.

Soap, Ghost, Gaz and Price. What a fucking mess you’ve got yourself in. 

…

The door swings open, it makes you jump. Soap springs to his feet, you wait. 

“He wants to talk to you.” Gaz says, he barely looks at you as he moves out the way of the door. You stand up swallowing the fear rising in you. You walk back into the room. Price is sat up on the sofa now a hand pressed on the bandages on his stomach, there’s an electronic tablet by his side. That probably has a lot of expensive intel on it. 

Ghost’s stood behind the sofa with his arms crossed. You look at him quickly then to Price as you stop in front of him. He looks round you, he still looks clammy, at least there is some colour back in his face. That’s got to be good, at least whatever you did didn't kill him. 

“You said you could pull the bullet out?” He asks. You look round the room not quite believing what you’re hearing. 

“No, I said you needed a hospital.” You cross your arms. Price smiles leaning back on the sofa, his face winces in pain even though he tries to hide it. 

“I want you to pull it out.”

“Price!” You hear Gaz say. “That's not what we discussed.” 

“I’m sorry. Even if I could just pull it out, I don’t have any equipment. No sterile field, an x-ray.” You stop throwing your hands up. “I could kill you. I don’t exactly want the blood of a SAS soldier on my hands.”  

“I could die anyway?” 

“You’re still talking, moving, breathing.” You’re getting frustrated, there’s no way you’re going to do this. If you kill him they’ll blame you it’s a death sentence. 

“Which means the bullet probably missed anything vital.” He says as a matter of fact. You look down at the wound, his hand still resting on the bandages. The bleeding is under control, he seems fine other than the hole in his stomach. 

“Maybe. I don’t know but I'm not doing what would basically be surgery on you in a shitty safehouse.” You say squeezing the bridge of your nose. “Like I said I don’t even have the tools.” 

“The vets in the next town over, will it have what you need?” You stop pinching your nose. You don’t say anything. There is no way this is happening.  

“You’re crazy.” You scoff, holding your hands up then letting them fall back down by your side. You look round at everyone. No one is saying anything, Price has a smile on his lips you just want to slap off. 

“C’mere.” He says moving and gesturing for you to step closer. You just stand there gawking at him, no one is saying anything. You look up at Ghost, his eyes are digging into you. You swallow again, taking a step over to him. This time everyone does move, ever so slightly but enough for you to notice. Price’s hand reaches out to press on his side. 

“Feel that.” He says. You look up at him unsure what to do, he nods at you. You shake your head for a second letting out a sigh and press where he instructed. 

Holy shit, it’s hard just under his skin. It’s the bullet. You could pull that out no problem, then you could stitch up the rest of his wounds.

“Still don’t think you could get it out?” He asks as you stand back up. Your eyes flick back up to Ghost. You press your lips together thinking, you could do this.

“What’s in it for me?” You ask. Now it’s negotiation time. You hear Gaz scoff. 

“We let you walk out here alive.” Gaz says, there’s anger in his voice. You turn to look at him. He’s definitely the most reserved out of all them, he held a gun to your head. He would kill you, all he needs is an excuse. You look back down at Price. 

“Your life for mine.” 

“Dramatic.” You scoff. You hear Soap chuckle behind you. 

“I want asylum, in the UK.” You say, crossing your arms. It's not America but it’s a start.  

“Fine.” Price says. You look at him shocked. 

“Just like that?” You ask frowning, it’s almost too go to be true. 

“Just like that. You need to get us into Russia though. Quietly, you said you’re a good smuggler, we’ll even pay you for it.” Price says. Now you really don’t believe him. It’s a challenge though, you can see it in his eyes. 

“I would need to go to the vets for the supplies.” You say.

“Ghost will go with you.” Price says. This is risky, they could be lying. They could kill you as soon as they’re done with you. If they want you to take them over the border you could hand them over to Konni. Makarov would probably pay you enough to retire if you handed him 4 SAS soldiers, fuck it he’d probably give you a mansion somewere in Russia. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” You ask.

“How do we know we can trust you?” Price says back, tipping his head. Touché. You smile. 

“Okay. I’ll help.” You hold your hand out, he shuffles uncomfortably but leans forward to shake your hand. 

You don’t trust them, but they don’t trust you. No way you’re going to let them betray you though. That’s your job.

next

Banners by plum98

[zero-up]

"Shooters are still A thing. Therefore: no one shouldn't complain when someone kills A CEO. Because making rich people unrelated to the suffering of 6-year-olds is totally good because."

What was the point of killing that CEO? How will it improve the health care system? Doesn't it just make it harder to attack the corporation he was in charge of, which role likely just continue honest though nothing happened anyway? Even if the CEO was completely evil, what was the point? Was it just to make someone you don't like suffer? Did you even know the CEO before this incident?

Gosh, I hate the Luigi apology! Especially when they try to pull the "so we should just sit down and politely ask for rides?". My dude, what will violence accomplish? How will killing anyone illegally make anything better in any way shape or form? What is the process here? How does this work? What is the step 2? Because unless your goal is to literally overthrow the government, I'm not really seeing how killing people can help you accomplish your goals.

You want to know how peace can actually solve the issue? By voting! Your elected officials rely on votes in order to keep power. You're elected officials have to care about their voters, because if they don't: they lose power. And if you do not vote: you do not have power over your elected officials. Doing research and voting sound like work? Fine then, don't vote, I don't either for that very reason. But at least I'm not saying "ViOlEnCe Is ThE oNlY aNsWeR" when I can't even be bother to vote!

And everyone sympathizing for the CEO because they don't want to live in a society that normalizes violence. And trust me: you don't either. You don't want the average person to think it's justified to resort to violence for political reasons. Because long beliefs don't magically have A different effect on one's psychology than true beliefs, and the vast majority of people think they are good, and that people they don't like are guilty.

If you normalize good people killing the guilty, then you also normalize bad people killing the innocent. That's not a slippery slope fallacy, that's A logical consequence of most bad people think their good people.

I generally do not like or trust the cops. If there's no other reason to hate them: let it be for how they conduct interrogations. And I have many problems with the US legal system. But I recognize the benefit of the law is that it forces people to abide by a standard that maximizes the punishment of the guilty and minimizes the punishment of the innocent. We can definitely do way better, but the easiest way to do that is to improving the system we currently have, and trying to ignore it or circumvent it is way more likely to make things incredibly worse than they are to make it better.

And trust me, I could go on, I have at least one extra point I could make right now that's alluded to in a previous point. I actually have A Reddit post draft that I barely started a while ago that I should probably finish at some point. But right now I'm really just venting because this gets me angry every time I see it, and I'm kind of annoyed that someone I followed unironically unironically reposted this, I still they thought it was so obviously correct that they didn't need to worry about backlash. And honestly, the Luigi-simping is just an example of a greater problem where people unironically think political violence is justified without ever putting A single iota of thought into how that would actually work. They come to conclusions based entirely off of what feels right, and then they call others naive when they point out how absurd their conclusions are.

I just want people to critically examine the own beliefs more, or at least honestly listen to what others critiques of theirs more.

[txrully]

I'M FALLING FOR YA

·˚ ༘ ꒱ summary when they realized they fell for you

·˚ ༘ ꒱ characters isagi yoichi , bachira meguru , itoshi rin , nagi seishiro , mikage reo , chigiri hyoma , hiori yo , shidou ryusei , itoshi sae , michael kaiser , alexis ness

·˚ ༘ ꒱ song inspo falling for ya - grace phipps

·˚ ༘ ꒱ note reader's gender is not mentioned

·˚ ༘ ꒱ isagi yoichi

it was that one time you stayed up all night helping him with his game analysis. you had zero clue what you were looking at, but you sat beside him, nodding like you totally understood his football jargon. you even brought snacks and drinks, acting like his personal cheerleader. at some point, you fell asleep on his shoulder, and yoichi just froze.

his heart did that stupid little flutter, and he thought, oh. oh no.

that’s when it hit him—you're his biggest supporter, even when you don’t have to be. and yeah, he’s doomed.

"y/n, you… you didn't have to stay up with me."

"shut up and eat your chips, striker boy."

"...i think i love you."

"what?? i didn't hear you-"

"nothing."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ bachira meguru

bachira knew he was done for when you didn’t look at him like he was weird. you two were at an arcade, and he got way too into a rhythm game, like full-on dancing, spinning, doing the most. people were staring, but you? you were hyping him up like he was the main act at a concert.

when you jumped onto the machine with him, laughing like you didn't care who was watching, he swore his heart did a backflip. you got him. no judgment, no weird looks, just pure chaotic energy.

"y/n, let’s run away and start a dance crew!"

"bet. can we get matching outfits?"

"...i think i’m in love with you."

"*le gasp* :'0"

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi rin

rin never thought he'd fall in love, but then you stood up for him. it was after a tough match, and some guys were trash-talking him like they had no fear of death. before he could even say anything, you stepped in with the most savage comebacks known to mankind.

rin watched in awe (and lwk horror) as you verbally obliterated them. and when you turned back to him all nonchalant like "what? they were asking for it," he realized… yeah, you’re everything.

"you didn’t have to do that."

"of course i did, no one talks about my man like that."

"...your man?"

"uh, don’t overthink it, rin. :')"

spoiler: he overthought it.

·˚ ༘ ꒱ nagi seishiro

nagi realized he loved you when you dragged him out of bed to watch the sunrise. he groaned and complained the entire time, but you didn’t let up. you pulled him outside with a blanket wrapped around him, sat him down, and pointed at the sky like it was the most important thing in the world.

and then he looked at you—eyes sparkling, a soft smile on your face—and suddenly, the sunrise didn’t matter anymore. he just wanted to stay like this forever.

"see? wasn’t this worth it?"

"hm? yeah, yeah, totally..."

"are you even looking at the sky?"

"...uh huh. definitely."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ mikage reo

reo fell in love when you saw him—not the money, not the status, not mikage reo, just reo. he tried to impress you with fancy gifts, expensive trips, the whole deal, but you just rolled your eyes and told him you’d rather chill at home and watch movies with instant ramen.

he realized right then and there that he didn’t need to buy your love, because you already gave it to him freely. and for once, he felt like someone wanted him for him.

"you really don’t care about all this rich guy stuff?"

"reo, i literally just wanna watch a rom com and eat snacks."

"...i think i wanna marry you."

"woah."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ chigiri hyoma

it was the time you challenged him to a race. he was used to people treating him like he was delicate, scared of pushing him too hard, but you? nah, you sprinted ahead without warning, shouting, "catch me if you can, speedster!"

he hadn’t felt that rush in a long time—the pure joy of running alongside someone who believed in him, not his injuries. when he finally caught up, breathless and laughing, he knew he was completely, utterly in love.

"hyoma, you’re getting slow!"

"oh? you wanna bet on that?"

"loser does whatever the winner says for a week."

"...i’m winning."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ hiori yo

hiori fell in love the day you told him it was okay to take a break. you found him staring at his playbook, stress all over his face, and instead of telling him to push through, you took his hand, dragged him to the couch, and put on his favorite movie.

no pressure, no expectations—just you, showing him it’s okay to breathe. and that’s when it hit him… you were his safe place.

"you don’t always have to be perfect, hiori."

"...but i want to be."

"you already are to me."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ shidou ryusei

shidou fell in love when you actually kept up with his chaos. everyone else called him reckless, but you? you matched his energy, throwing playful insults right back and even out-pranking him at times.

one day, you flipped him off mid-match in a video game, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. someone who could handle his crazy? sign him up.

"keep staring, shidou, maybe you’ll play better."

"i’m staring ‘cause i think i’m in love."

"you’re insufferable."

"and you’re stuck with me."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi sae

sae’s moment was when you called him out on his nonsense. no one dared to, but you? you told him to quit being a jerk and actually open up for once.

instead of brushing you off like he usually did with people, he found himself listening. something about you made him want to be better. and that terrified him—but it also made him realize he was falling hard.

"sae, just admit you care."

"...shut up."

"i'm calling shidou."

"...i care."

"knew it."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ michael kaiser

kaiser fell for you when you didn’t fall for his charm (weirdly enough). everyone else ate up his flirty lines, but you hit him with a deadpan stare and a sarcastic comeback that left him reeling.

it was the first time someone saw past his ego and actually challenged him. and wow, he was obsessed.

"y/n, admit it, you love me."

"i love peace and quiet, michael."

"so... not me?"

"hm, i'll get back to that later ."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ alexis ness

ness knew he was in love when you defended him. not as kaiser’s shadow, but as ness. you shut down anyone who tried to treat him like an afterthought, and for once, he felt like he mattered—not just to the world, but to you.

"thanks for standing up for me."

"always, ness. you deserve it."

© txrully

do not copy/translate/repost my works

[secret-moonstruck]

STUCK ON ME | Y.JW

— Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: Y/N found an abandoned kitten in the rain but she didn't expect things to end this way.

— Genre: smut

— Warnings: unprotected sex, cum inside, making out, begging, hickeys, blood, overstimulation.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

The rain fell heavily as the shadow watched Y/N typing on her laptop. 

When he noticed that she started to pack her things to leave, he smiled, his fangs showing. 

- This is going to be an interesting meal. - He said before transforming.

Y/N was focused on finishing writing a chapter that she didn't notice the heavy rain or how dark it was, as soon as she noticed this, she started to packing her things to leave.

Running home she heard a meow and stopped to see where it was coming from, she then saw a kitten hiding from the rain in a corner, without thinking she picked it up and hugging it to protect it from the rain took it to her apartment.

Y/N dried the kitten and fed him, when she made sure he was comfortable, she went to take a shower and warm up as she was still soaked from the rain.

While sleeping that night Y/N woke up nervous feeling like she was being watched, but she ignored it and went back to sleep.

The next day Y/N returned early from the cafe after finishing a chapter of her book. She looked for the kitten but couldn't find it, until she heard a noise coming from her room. When she opened the door she screamed in panic and tried to run away after seeing an unknown man lying comfortably on her bed. But barely taking two steps out of the room she was grabbed and thrown against the wall.

- A panicked prey always makes the meal even better. - He said, inhaling her scent, feeling her fear.

- Who are you? - Y/N asked shakily.

- Who i am? I'm Jungwon and you're Y/N, my sweet prey.

In the midst of her panic, she remembered the kitten and asked if he had done anything to him.

- So sweet, worried about me? - A falsely sweet smile appeared on his face. - Don't you understand yet? There is no kitten, it was me all along. So easy to fool, a little transformation and you're down immediately.

As soon as he finished speaking, he bit her. The pain at first was horrible, but soon she felt something strange, a shiver ran through her entire body, she was feeling pleasure.

When Y/N moaned Jungwon stopped immediately, he didn't expect that, she must have been screaming to death in pain. Only then did he realize how there was something different in his blood.

- What are you? - He asked confused. - Whatever, it doesn't matter

Before she could think about running away he bit her again. Her blood wasn't just sweet, it wasn't just something that satisfied his hunger, there was something more powerful, something that was messing with his head and his body. He wanted more, but not only that, it made him want her. Her body, her soul, everything, she should be his.

Fear still hovered over Y/N, but at the same time she wanted it, the feeling was too good, she wanted him to devour her in every possible way.

- Damn, I can't believe I'm going to do this. - Jungwon decided to keep her alive at least for now.

- Do what? - Y/N asked scared. But instead of giving an answer he kissed her.

This shocked her more than if he had killed her. The kiss was fierce, his body pressing hers against the wall, while he firmly held her waist, the other hand grabbed her right leg, his claws squeezing it tightly, making it bleed. 

- Please, devour me. - Y/N begged between moans. He more than immediately obeyed her. 

Both clothes being quickly removed from their bodies, he ached to possess her.

He picked her up on his lap, his cock desperate to be inside her, and soon it was. 

She could die there and she would be happy, the way he fucked her as if he had been waiting for this for centuries.

Y/N was grateful that he was holding her because she was sure she couldn't stand, her legs were weak, her whole body was losing strength as she felt him going so fiercely deep inside her. 

Nothing felt like enough, Jungwon wanted more from her, more and more, as his head spun with the sensation of being inside her, he varied between kissing her roughly or drinking some more of her blood. 

With her blood dripping down his lips as he sucked her, he knew he couldn't take it anymore, the way she clenched around him as she felt the pleasure as he drank her blood.

Y/N's moans could be heard in the distance as she reached her orgasm, tears streaming down her face as he finally came inside pushing more and more into her. Y/N head falling onto his shoulder in exhaustion when it was finally over.

Even overwhelmed she thought about how she would probably be killed next, an ironic smile on her lips as she thought that at least it would be a good death. Soon after, she fainted.

When she woke up Y/N was confused, she thought she would be dead by now. She tried to get up, but felt her hand trapped. Of course she was alive, but it was too much to ask for him to leave and let her live as if nothing had happened.

- Finally woke up. - Jungwon's voice came from the other side of the room.

- Why am I arrested? - Y/N didn't mind asking rudely, death no longer scared her.

- Because my sweet Y/N, I don't want to have to chase you if you try to run away. - I don't have the patience for that kind of thing.

- But why haven't you killed me yet? Are you going to keep me trapped here so I always have a snack at your disposal?

- I wish that was it. - His expression was a mixture of anger and disappointment. - Unfortunately, I can't kill you. 

Jungwon sat on the bed next to her touching her face with a smile full of sarcasm. He looked increasingly angry.

- There is a story, which I never believed, about how vampires are supposedly always destined to find someone, the person they would give their life for in exchange to protect. A person to whom they would give their entire being, whom they are destined to serve. Baseless idiocy. - He said, squeezing her face while analyzing her.

- I always thought they were just stories, but guess what? Apparently this is real. - He released her face angrily, moving away.

- Why did I have to drink your blood? Why didn't I choose another victim? Just you with your stupid blood that bewitched me. - If I didn't want to have you so much for myself I would kill you now, not because it's normal for me, but because I hate you so much for doing this to me. - He was clearly in agony.

- Is that what they call karma? - Y/N said laughing loudly. - You tried to terrorize me and kill me. And now you're saying you stuck with me?

He looked at her in disbelief. Y/N was nothing like he imagined, she wasn't afraid of him, the look of superiority and control she had over him made him feel small. It should be the opposite, he is the monster here, he is the one who should have control over her, not the other way around.

- Let me go. - Y/N ordered. Even though he was angry, Jungwon couldn't help but follow Y/N's orders, her voice had some kind of power over him, it was like a spell, and now he was the one who couldn't escape.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

[miange1]

(if you're still up for another suggestion)

What about a male reader who catches onto Donnie's stalking and finds it hot. So the reader decides to confront Donnie about it, teasing and purposely making him freak out that his secret is out before letting him know that he's totally okay with it and that his feelings are reciprocated

DONNIE DARKO

'rappers ain shi, i might fw a baller'

male reader, stalking, reader purposely teasing donnie in multiple ways, jerking off, anal fingering, creepy ass shit, sniffing clothes, ew donnie, implied bottom reader, donnie and reader are best friends, might do a pt2 idk, not proof read at all

you were absolutely perfect. he couldn't ever take his eyes off of you even if he wanted to. you were so addicting, like a child's love for candy, or an adults love for nicotine.

you and donnie were close, not far too close, but close enough. but to him, the two of you were like two peas in a pod, absolutely inseparable. he was fully convinced at the fact that you would never ever leave him, that you absolutely needed him and that he absolutely needed you.

now, it'd start some time ago when he was staying over for a few nights. the two of you played on the newly bought consle hooked up to the big and bulky tv, before he had needed to use the restroom.

the bathroom was all the way downstairs, so it would take a while for him to go down, piss, then come back up.

so you had taken advantage of that time to just..have a small quickie. when he had come back a couple of minutes later to hear heavy breathing, he stopped. only peeking through the small crack of the door to see what was going on.

his dick practically sprung up seeing you had your shirt in your mouth, fist going up and down while your hips bucked into the air and you whimpered from the feeling.

he just couldn't look away, how could he? he noticed the way your teary eye would glance over in his direction but he quickly moved to the walls side where you couldn't see him through the crack

his heart was pumping so quick it may as well squirt blood from across the room.

when he came back you acted like you couldn't see him, like you hadn't just jerked off right in front of him. you couldn't see him, right? cause he stared for a pretty long time with hopes of it lasting longer.

now it was a habit. every single, "bye donnie, see you tomorrow." was him staring into your window at night, maybe even coming inside to watch you sleep directly. sometimes he'd even touch you, but would stop and quickly just go back to staring everytime you moved.

he'd watch you listen to music on your walkman, watch you do homework, watch movies, change.

his favorite part was watching you change, he liked it even more when he was hiding somewhere and being able to watch you pretty closely. he might take a few things, there was only one time he took something big but he had to put it back cause you had been sulking about it being gone the whole week.

he felt terrible when he was watching you at your most vulnerable moments. he sat on a tree branch close to the furthest window that still had a clear view of your bed side. he perked up seeing you put your book down, and your eyes drift the the middle of your sweatpants.

he dryly swallowed, getting closer to the window to see your movements. it was the usual, jerking off— but something was just.. different?

your fingers went into your mouth while you were already doing it, he didn't understand. then when you were done your fingers drifted lower, and lower. you had shimmied your pants off somewhere else and now you were completely without pants.

donnie felt a tent in his own pants, breath hitching as he started to feel tingly.

"donnie.." he snapped out of it.

did you call his name? did you know he was here watching you? no, that couldn't be because if you knew then you wouldn't be masturbating right now, would you?

you were masturbating thinking about him. shit, oh shit. was this bad or good? he didn't understand? were you thinking about him the first time he saw you jerk off? and all the other times he secretly watched you?

he observed as your back arched into your own touch the way you got louder the more you curled your fingers inside. "oh..mh.."

he hands pressed to the window, heavy breaths puffing onto the glass and fogging it up.

"don..nie.." and your eyes gazed over to him. not like last time— you looked right at him. he freaked out, backing up and quickly climbing out of the tree.

dick hard, heart pounding, panic coursing through him. how was he gonna face you tomorrow?

heading home was awkward. his little sister was up late getting a snack, and was just as confused as he was. "..where do you go at night?"

next day he wasn't allowed to stay home because it was friday, and his mother had seen no point in making him stay from school.

it was a few minutes before class, and everyone was talking and messing around before the teacher would get back.

he was hoping to God that you wouldn't show up, the words 'please stay home, please stay home' repeating over and over in his mind.

"donnie!" god damn it.

"hey man, how you doin'? didn't see you at the bus stop, you alright?" he gave you a look of what he hoped wasn't nervousness to give him away. "i walked." you pouted playfully, as if to piss him off.

"what? man, i was with your dork friends for at least fifteen minutes." he tuned out most of your words static in his brain before,

"and i think i have a stalker." his head snapped up to face yours, his arms tightening around his bag. "a..stalker?" "mhm."

his mouth had that dry feeling again, but not in a good way. "why..why do you think so?" damn it, he needed to stop stuttering!

"well, every time i sleep i swear i hear someone breathing next to me." he should have held his breath, or contained himself. "and something tickled my skin? im not too sure." fuck did he have to touch you?

"and even some of my stuff is missing, you remember when– yeah, you do." a smirk graced your face, you knew and better yet you were teasing him about it.

"you got an idea of what he looks like?" it's the way you kept eye contact with him, like you waited for him to ask that damn question.

"eh..maybe 5'11 or so." you shrugged,

"brown hair maybe? i saw a bit of it, or maybe it was my imagination." then your hand would take his, and press against it as if to compare sizes but that wasn't it.

"and last night, i saw a hand print on my glass about..this big." you glanced at his hand, only to look at him again. "think you can find him for me?" he felt himself smile a bit, now understanding what you had meant.

"yeah..yeah, i can find him." you moved your hand away once the teacher had come back and students started to get quieter. "thanks man, i appreciate that."

[xhda1449x]

okay so I have Opinions TM about this because. well. am asexual. know asexual people. Been Like That before.

I had a friend. She's not my friend anymore. One of the reasons why is that she was a very sex negative asexual. Not repulsed, negative. Sex negative means Against It As A Concept. Repulsed means "ew, I really don't want to hear about any of it and I'm kinda disgusted by the way sexual attraction seems to run the world but yknow, that's me, y'all do you", right. It's a different thing. Some aces don't understand that.

I've known aces who think it's the identity for sex negativity. Aces who are attracted to people in an allo way (!!!) but think sex is gross. The friend I had was like that. Afaik she just... hated men so much she decided that wanting sex with women As A Guy is disgusting behavior so all sex is like that. Because she'd only use the "sex repulsed" card when interacting with guys. Because she was a lesbian and identified as such. Now yeah there are ace lesbians. I've also known a few of those. But that's not the point, the point is that so many people who don't want to have conventional PiV sex find the ace label and think it's for them.

Now uhhh my personal experience with the sex negativity excused as being sex repulsed mindset. So I have ocd. something most people around me know about. Over the years of Me Having It (so like... since I was 8 ig) it manifested in different ways. One of the most annoying intrusive thoughts I'd dealt with was just... my friends, my family members, in sexual situations. Not with me, just kinda... abstract, I guess, but one time I had a wholeass flashback because my friend told me he did indeed sleep with his girlfriend regularly so that's something. It's not really fun, imagining your two platonic-and-nothing-else friends Having Sex In Your Head and not being able to stop it. Also yeahhh the trauma def played a role too. Like, that's most likely what triggered me to Have OCD in the first place, and it took me a long time to get over that (mostly because I couldn't really tell anyone about it. I'm not gonna get into details but let's just say people don't really like to think that a young girl could hurt someone like that).

So now I'm in a relationship. First I've ever had. And I had to deal with Everything by being thrown head first into it. The first year was Hard, with another aspect of the ocd (it's always the ocd) being that I'd question my identity a lot. Sure I was dating someone but I was still ace because I didn't want to have sex with them right? Sure I don't mind the thought but I'm still ace because I wouldn't do it irl? SURE I CAN IMAGINE MYSELF DOING IT IRL BUT I'M STILL ACE, RIGHT, ACES CAN HAVE SEX?????? on top of dealing with Gender Questioning, too. Fun times!!!

But uh. yeah. turns out that I needed some help processing the trauma and now I'm like... the kink-cyclopedia for my friends or something. Like the person in the tags said, it's mostly theoretical. And funny thing is I've Been Like This even when I was a teenager!!! But I both pushed it down because That's Not How Aces Are and overplayed it because I wanted my friends to like me and at the time it seemed as if their only interest was Talking About Sex (idk, teenagers can be like that sometimes, or it can feel that way if you don't relate).

Anyway, yeah. For anyone who's like this (thinking ace is the label for sexual trauma survivors; thinking you're ace because you don't want sex; thinking being ace means being above sexual desires and that somehow making you better than everyone else), I've been there. And it was miserable. I'm still ace, because guess what, I'm still not sexually attracted to anyone besides maybe my partner and even then I'm not sure. But like... the reason why puritans are miserable isn't just because they're all horny and repressed. Building your whole identity on top of Hating Something will always make you miserable. Try to avoid that if you can.

I am both.

[always-azriels-princess]

The Wrong Thing part two

Guysss i did it :) im so proud

Summary: the mate bond snaps, and you say the wrong thing

Part 1

Word Count: 1.4K

Azriel was avoiding you. You knew it, he knew it, the entire Inner Circle knew it. Feyre had tried to approach you a couple times to figure out what had happened, but you never answered the knocks on your door.

It was embarassing, and yet you completely understood why your mate didn't want you. The haunted look in his eyes that night appeared in your nightmares each night, and each one ended with you waking up, slicked with sweat and panting as if just finishing a marathon.

Bags had started to form under your eyes from the lack of sleep, and Azriel wasn't looking much better. You had overheard Rhys talking to Feyre on multiple occasions about how Azriel was getting unfocused during missions, sloppy during training, and quick to anger in simple conversations.

You knew you had to fix your mistake, but it was hard to think of how your mate would look at you, like he never wanted to see you again. And you didn't even blame him, you wouldn't want to see yourself either after what you had done.

"No."

The words hung around your neck, suffocating you every second of every day like a noose growing tighter and tighter. Rhys had also noticed your work as a diplomat for the Night Court was diminishing in its thoroughness.

Nuala knocked on your door, as you were deep in some paperwork updating the new peace treaty with Winter. "Come in," you called.

"Good afternoon miss," Nuala said as she walked in. "The High Lord would like to see you in his office."

You sighed, expecting something like this after on your and Azriel's actions in the past week. "Thank you Nuala, I'll be right there."

The chair scraped back after you stood up, shuffling the papers and stuffing them in a drawer.

Dread coiled in your gut as you made your way to the High Lord's office, worried he would make you confront what you had been trying so hard to hide from.

You knocked thrice quietly, hoping Rhys had maybe left to go get a snack and you could sneak back into your room. To no avail, you heard a faint "come in," and you took a deep breath before pushing the door open.

The breath you had previously took escaped you as you gazed over every inch of the shadowsinger, completely ignoring the High Lord sitting at his desk, smirking with his "I'm so amazing" face.

As you drank in the image of your mate, his shadows clung to him, wrapping around his body like a second skin, while others writhed around his feet, swarming and twisting in chaotic patterns. The tension in the room increased ten-fold and the air around Azriel began to darken, his very presence sucking in the light around him. His adam's apple bobbed as he traced your every curve, as if committing the image to memory.

You just stood in the doorway, both you and your mate frozen, staring at each other, before Rhys cleared his throat and you snapped out of your trance, breaking your eye contact with your mate. As you sat down on the opposite side of the couch Azriel was on,

"Now, you probably know why I called you in," Rhys explained. "This," he gestured wildly, waving his hands between you two, "needs to stop. Azriel, you've almost completely dropped your training schedule, and I have reports from your informants that you're missing their check-ins." He turned to you, "And you are three days behind on the paperwork for the Winter Court peace treaty renewal."

Rhys sighed and stood up, walking towards the door. Before exiting the room, he turned back and said, "I don't know what's going on with you two, and I'm not going to snoop through your heads to figure it out, but something clearly happened, so you can leave this room when you are back to normal." With a wave of his hand, the door closed behind him as he walked away, and you could hear the soft click of the lock turning, keeping you stuck in a room with male who wanted nothing to do with you.

The air in the room was thick, suffocating. The silence between you and Azriel seemed to stretch endlessly, like the tension before a storm. He sat on the couch across from you, his posture rigid, every muscle in his body taut, like he was ready to shadow away at any second.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him at first. The guilt gnawed at your insides, raw and jagged, but you forced yourself to breathe, slow and steady, to calm the racing in your chest. The room was too quiet, and yet every sound felt amplified. The way his shadows whispered, curling and slithering at his feet, the way his eyes seemed to burn into you from across the room.

He was avoiding you, but you were avoiding him too.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat, suffocating you before they even had a chance to leave your lips.

Azriel spoke first, his voice low and strained. "You don’t have to do this." It was almost a whisper, his words laced with pain and, not anger...no, something more vunerable. Insecurity.

"Do what?" you finally managed, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears. "Talk about it?"

His voice was low and strained. "You have already made your feelings very clear, and I would never try to force you into anything you don't want."

You sat up, confused. "Az, I never said I didn't want the bond. I was overjoyed when it snapped, but I....I panicked because I know that you deserve someone better than me."

His beautiful hazel eyes softened. "But...you said no. The bond snapped and you said no." His voice was getting louder and faster as he spoke. "You were right, you shouldn't want this bond, I'm broken and scarred, and you're so....so perfect."

An ache spread through your chest, as though all the fragile pieces of your heart had shattered at once, leaving sharp fragments to tear at your insides.

"Azriel," your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes. You shifted closer on the couch, until your legs were brushing against his. "I told you this that night, and I will tell you again. You. Are. Not. Weak. You are not broken, you are not scarred, you do not have a single flaw unless it is loving your family too much. I can never take back what I said that night, and I will replay that moment in my head for the rest of my life, praying to be able to go back in the past and change it. You have a such a pure heart, so do not think for one moment that you are not deserving of me. I am the one who doesn't deserve you." You finished your speech, a soft, uneven breath escaping you.

Azriel stared into your soul, his eyes softening with wonder and adoration. He smiled softly as he drew closer. When you felt his warm breath on your face, he murmured, "Why don't we just agree that we both deserve each other," and closed the distance between you. His lips met yours, and it was like the world fell away and the only thing that mattered was the male in front of you. His hand slid from your face to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. It was slow, unhurried, like you both had all the time in the world. You smiled against his lips, fingers threading through the dark strands of his hair as you leaned into him, deepening the kiss.

The taste of him, the feel of him, was overwhelming in the best way. It was like coming home, like a storm finally releasing the tension it had held for so long. You regretfully pulled away, resting your forehead against his. You were finally home.

The peace of the moment was shattered as the door was thrown in, what seemed to be the entire court of Velaris pushing themselves through. Cassian laughed deeply, sweeping Az off the couch and hugging him "Finally!" he exclaimed. Mor, who was bawling her eyes out, flung herself at you, knocking yourself back against the couch. "THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!" You paused for a second, then laughed and hugged her back.

Rhys came in with Feyre on his arm, looking all too smug. "I told you Feyre darling, I'm a genius."

Feyre smacked him upside the head.

@lilah-asteria >3 ilsym you are my first tag ever and i'm so grateful for the support so thank youuuu

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Ch. 110: Is Donovan Desmond a Mind Reader and Most Importantly, Is Twilight Doomed?

Nah.

Twilight isn't doomed, this isn't the end. Calm down, there's no need to panic about that.

Think about it for a second, if Donovan Desmond could read minds, the SSS would have arrested Twilight the minute he said bye to Desmond on that first meeting.

A few months ago, when we saw a young Donovan Desmond appear, I did a poll/analysis about whether or not he could read minds.

Even after the most recent chapter, my opinion is still the same: No, he can't.

Some people think that maybe he can get a glimpse into people's past. Although that would be a super awesome power (and it would be one hell of a plot), I don't think it's the case, because that wouldn't really tell him much and I don't think it would have affected him to the point of forcing him to distance himself from everyone.

I do have a theory about him. I've mentioned it before but here it is again:

I think he can tell when someone is lying.

Yup. That's it. A human lie detector. It made sense a few months ago, it makes even more sense now.

It fits his personality, his fixation with liars as a child, it also fits the theme of the whole story (everyone is a liar in sxf, everyone has something to hide) and most importantly, it fits his behavior.

We know that Donovan Desmond did not initiate war with Westalis. Chapman was Prime Minister when the war started and Desmond followed after him. There's a big chance war ended while Desmond was in power. If I'm not mistaken, the war has been over for about 10 years. I have the feeling that Desmond may have launched Project Apple as a means to protect peace.

And how would someone who is obsessed with lies do that? Of course, by wanting to know how others really think at all times.

My guess is that he volunteered himself to participate in the experiments, that would also explain the scars he has on each side of his head (which he didn't have as a child). It's unlikely he was a war veteran, because politicians and people in office never go into a battlefield, so he didn't get those scars in battle.

I think he really tried to obtain mindreading abilities and he failed, but not completely.

Imagine how it would be to have that awareness of people lying ALL THE TIME. How awful it must have been for him to get this power and realize than even his family, the people he felt closest to were lying to him. I think that's the reason why he isolated from everyone. It also fits what Melinda describe in the last chapter:

Let's look at that Desmond family dinner from that perspective. He cannot read minds but he can tell his wife is lying (because she's scared of him and doesn't want to be there!). It also makes sense that Demetrius keeps his mind blank because he suspects his father knows what he's thinking, so he's train himself to not think in front of others.

His behavior shows a person who has completely lost faith in humanity. He pushed everyone away because he didn't want any more lies, and to protect himself but, by doing this, he also ended up hurting his wife to such an extent that she doesn't recognize him anymore.

Since another theme of sxf is getting closer to and relying on people while forming bonds despite their masks and lies, I can totally see this could be Donovan's story, also parallel to Twilight's by the way: You can distance yourself from others to protect yourself but it'll be a lonely life.

Yes, Donovan is safe, guarded from everyone's lies, but he's also missing out on his family's love and also on the possibility of changing the world for the best.

Twilight is going in exactly the opposite direction of him. He's becoming alive, tearing those walls down, learning to rely on others, and loving his family.

Another Important Thing to Consider...

Everyone is so worried about Donovan Desmond possible mindreading powers that no one has mentioned one very important thing: Twilight's purpose for Operation Strix!

THIS is what WISE and Twilight really want to do: to find information that would allow them to remove people who seek war from power.

It's one hell of a strategy and a tough one for sure. And I agree; scandal, especially in such a conservative society like Ostania could do a lot of damage to politicians like Desmond, parties like the National Unity Party, and institutions like the SSS.

It wouldn't surprise me if at some point in the story it actually works. However, I don't think Westalis is as clean as we think. Food for thought.

[loveandleases]

ROs reaction to MC dressing slutty for the first time? Doesn't matter if they're going out or just in the privacy of their room 👀😚

I only have two done so far, for some reason my mind really ran with it. (I'll finish the others eventually, but Cam/Ardents are down below)

❤️ Cam - Oh you know he's down bad. (When isn't he?)

"Wow," he says, his eyes so large as he takes you in. He should be wondering why the change, not that he cares, but his curiosity can get the better of him. But Cam's brain, for the most part, is playing catch-up. Like a video stuck on buffering.

He flicks his tongue across his lips, the glint of his piercing catching in the light, and shakes his head. "I don't know what I did to deserve this."

What you think he means to say as a compliment - is actually Cam cursing his luck.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asks as his hands brush over the clutter of your dresser.

"Not tonight. I just wanted to have something to wear for when I go out with Kara and Isaac."

He doesn't say much, but a brief nod is enough to let you know he heard. His lips jutted out into a pout. "Wow, didn't even offer to take me. I feel replaced." You know he's joking, but the slightest crease between his brow almost says otherwise.

"Come on, Cam. You're stuck with me, the faster you accept it the better." You tease, but he doesn't smile. Instead, he walks closer, his hand brushing along your shoulder. His fingers linger for a moment, brushing against your skin as if it's accidental - just enough to make you feel the heat in his touch.

You think it's just a speck of fuzz he's brushing off, but you're wrong. He wants to touch you - just for a moment.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Red. I've always been yours-" Cam's eyes widen comically large, and his voice trails off. You gasp, your eyes going wide in disbelief. Did he just -?

"Cam!" you exclaim, your heart skipping a beat.

"Uh -" He stumbles over his words, clearly realizing what just slipped out. "I've always been yours to fuck -"

Another loud gasp falls from your lips, eyes wide. Cam panics, his face turning bright red as he tries to save himself. "To fuck with! You know, tease… annoy the hell out of!"

He punches you lightly on the shoulder in his awkwardness - but a bit too hard. "Ow!" you cry out, wincing from the force.

Cam's face flushes even more with embarrassment as he stumbles back. "Shit, sorry," he mutters immediately trying to shift the energy, clearly wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

You blink, your jaw-dropping as the realization hits. "Oh, that’s what you meant," you say, half amused, half incredulous. A small, tiny part of you, one you’re going to ignore for now, feels a little disappointed.

Cam quickly turns toward the door, eager to escape the awkwardness of the situation. Before he leaves, he pauses and glances back at you, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than it should.

"Hey, you look hot as hell, by the way. Better take me with you when you wear that."

"Why? Gonna be lonely by yourself?"

Cam shrugs, his voice trailing off as he mutters under his breath, his lips slightly pursed, biting back the awkwardness. "Yeah… and so I can kick the first person's ass who tries to lay a finger on you."

🖤 Ardent - You could feel Ardent's eyes on you before you even turned around. And once you did, you weren't disappointed. You don't always get to see a flush of color in his face - it's fleeting, but damn, does it look good.

He was drinking you in, watching as you finished prepping yourself in the mirror. It was a sight to see, he always said so. Even when you two weren't getting along. Ardent never held back how attractive he thought you were.

"Watch yourself, old man. I would hate for you to get too heated and end up spending the night home alone," you tease, cocking your head with a smug grin, watching as he rolls his eyes.

"Stop pretending like you could even keep up. Or do I need to remind you -"

"Oh, would you look at that we're going to be late." you cut him off, not bothering to look at the clock, but enjoying how easy it is to get under his skin.

You tap a finger to the tip of his nose, letting him think he has the upper hand for just a moment. But before he can pull you closer, you step away with a playful smile. His game of cat and mouse has only just begun, and you're not ready to let him win.

As soon as you walk into the restaurant, the eyes aren't just on you - they're on both of you. And knowing Ardent he's always shooting daggers with his eyes at the attention. He admires the way you look, but you know that jealousy starts to rise in him. One patron is so taken with your outfit that they gawk at you the entire time you're ordering. Ardent leans in close, blocking their view with his body.

"Can you fucking not?" he hisses, his fingers intertwining with yours, a warning glare directed at the stranger.

Ardent's tense, his body like a coiled spring and ready to snap. A combination of you looking too good, and the eyes staring at him. "Come with me," he says, voice rough as he stands and offers you a hand.

"Wh - where to?" You raise a brow, already mourning the food you'll not get to eat.

"Just follow me," he growls.

You smirk and fall into step behind him, not asking questions. He's not led you astray before, and you doubt he'll start now.

But maybe you should've been more cautious, at least you think, as he pulls you into the coat closet. Without warning, he presses you against the wall and slams his lips against yours, biting your lip in a way that drives you crazy.

"Here, really?" You gasp, as his fingers press into your sides, a comforting weight behind his grip.

"You know I'm yours, right?" Ardent mutters against your skin, his voice dark and gaze heated.

You blink, confused by the softer tone. "Yeah," you whisper, not because you're worried you'll get caught, but because of how his eyes are burning into you. Like you're the most important person in the world.

"And… " he trails off, raising his hand to rest against your neck as he brushes over the pulse there.

"What's the matter?" You taunt, your breath hitching slightly. "Cat got your tongue?"

Ardent's gaze flickers, then hardens, as his fingers tighten slightly on your neck, enough to make you shiver but not as rough as you like him to be. "You're mine," he growls.

Without warning, his other hand grabs your wrist, pinning your arm above your head. His chest pressing against yours. His lips trail down your neck, and he bites down, sucking hard. A groan rumbles from deep in his chest, making your pulse quicken in response.

"So," you tease, your voice breathless as you glance at him, a smirk tugging the corners of your lips. "You like my outfit, then?"

Ardent pulls away just long enough to look you in the eyes, those brown eyes filled with hunger. He grins, the scar on his lip somehow making him look more handsome. "Let's find out when it's on the ground."

💙 G -

💚 Kara -

💛 M -

💜 Isaac -

[sunshine6ixty]

i think this is where i've landed with the whole gaiman thing.

some background, i was a gaiman girlie. i paid money to see him speak, i volunteered for a signing, i've taken pictures in front of the world's largest carousel; hugely formative, resonated on a level that nothing else i've encountered did, and so on and so on etcetera. (i got to say "mr gaiman i wouldn't be who i am today without your books" to him, which is a Different Flavored Memory now than it once was, i can tell you)

and like. though his books had a familiar and fond place in my life, i'd already gotten to a point of... nebulous disenchantment? not disgust or anything-- just that nature was taking its course, and i was drifting away. i started reading neil gaiman at age... what, thirteen? maybe eleven? and i read his work consistently for a while. i'm in my thirties now, and i haven't been keeping track, but i've read american gods once a year for at least the past five years. it was just... kinda time, in a way. he seemed like he'd said what he had to say, and was coasting in a perpetual victory lap, which i was fine with. i'd just... keep picking at the gaiman books again when i was bored.

and i remember thinking, around when i first noticed this distance i'd been feeling, that i was just... running dry. things felt stale and i didn't know where to look to change that.

and then this all happened.

and all of a sudden, my perception of this person has been wrenched into a completely new perspective. just, twisted sideways, seams popping, eyes bugging, can't-unbreak-the-action-figure wrenched. the spell is broken, in an ironically gaiman-esque way, and this mythic figure (~*nEIL GAIman*~) is revealed to be just a shitty, spoiled brat of a complete fucking monster.

i've read the article, i've heard the stories about how weird he was for doctor who, i've seen not-unreasonable allegations of plagarism floating around-- suffice it to say, he's just a shit of a dude. he's... not special. not really. he's a good writer who said one thing with his work, and lived another. who saw something that resonated, and put his name on it. who said something that we felt, and said he gave it to us.

and i realized, from this angle, that the reason i was feeling so dried out was likely because neil gaiman (some might say purposefully) took all the fucking air out of the room. like, nobody was neil gaiman, right, so what right could you have to try to do a neil gaiman? he was the only gaiman. the apex of gaiman. peak gaiman. the mystical, profound, monotheistic god of dark poetic storytelling.

but like. he wasn't. it turns out, he was just a shitty dude. magic or no, he was mostly just entitled.

and i think that sort of broke something in me. if the curtain was pulled back and there was just a weird, shitty little dude in there, then what the fuck have i been doing? in an... i-should-probably-talk-to-a-therapist-about-this sort of way, neil gaiman kept me from writing! like-- i was a kid who took pictures of graves at age five, who made up a story about a child bricked up in the school belltower who's ghost still wandered the halls (and published it in the school newspaper, next to what flavor milk does mrs k's 5th grade class prefer), who believed there was a door to another world beneath their neighbor's ornamental bush, who mapped the lost city (/junk dump) in the open space drainage ditch! this is the stuff i did before i knew gaiman! i liked gaiman because i was into this stuff already, and then after a while, without me really noticing it, neil gaiman became this stuff. the only source of it. the only rightful creator of a gaiman.

and like... if you know you can't do it like neil gaiman, because he's him and you're not, you kind of start despairing before you even begin, right?

fuck that.

i think, what i can take away from the whole debacle is this: it's time for all of us who have ever felt like this to do a gaiman.

... by which i mean, make our art. not the other stuff.

you have every right to be as audacious as neil gaiman with your art. take it as seriously, tell everyone it's as important. put that thing down on paper; the thing you otherwise wouldn't.

look, chances are, you're actually a better person than neil gaiman. he sucks. he was a skilled craftsman, but skill can be learned. what he did was practice and talk himself up. and there is nothing magical about neil gaiman that hasn't also run beneath our fingertips.

there was never anything unique about ~*neiLGAiman*~. not really. neil just made him up to be the special-est most darkest and dreamiest boy there ever was, and it was a fucking lie, and its insidious the degree to which it ate an entire genre.

because, honestly? i want to read more shit like neil gaiman! i've been hungry for more of what he said was solely his for so fucking long! i want to see what weird, fever-dream stories we've all been sitting on because he ate the entire ecosystem! i want to read all of the beautiful, terrible, fucked-up magical things from everyone that never saw the light of day because neil was too busy basking in it!

and now that the mask is off, it's fucking time. i'm going to take my shit back, neil. fuck you.

in a weird, fucked-up way, what a relief.