#there is NOTHING more satisfying than a keyboard smash

[seungkwansphd]

just deserts

pairing: wonwoo x minghao x fem reader word count: 4.9k synopsis: when wonwoo and minghao invited you to this fancy business event, it hadn't really crossed your mind that they'd be busy working instead of entertaining you! perhaps you can find someone else to keep you busy, but those who misbehave always get their just deserts. themes/cw: SMUT! mdni!, threesome, established poly, BDSM elements, brat-ish vibes, toy usage, rough sex, power dynamic, degradation kink, spitting(once), cumplay(kinda?).

a/n: idk friends, the horny thoughts just keep coming. baby's first 3some fic! i think i got everything for content warnings, but do lmk if i missed anything! also TYSM to @playmetheclassics for beta-ing and making me this BEAUTIFUL banner (via @classicscreations) i appreciate you so much!

“Hao I’m bored,” you pouted, tugging at Minghao’s necktie as you looked up at him.

“Bored? Or needy?” He glanced down at you, clocking your true intentions immediately.

“Both,” your lips curled up at him playfully. “Do you and Wonwoo have to do so much networking tonight?”

“You already know the answer to that,” he replied. He was trying to be stern, but you knew that Minghao typically had a softer spot for you than Wonwoo.

“I should’ve just stayed home,” you grumbled. “At least at home I wouldn’t be wearing such uncomfortable heels and I could have fun by myself,” you whispered suggestively at Hao, fingertips tracing down the edge of his lapel mischievously.

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow, lips quirking up with interest. Your teasing words forced him to recall the last time he’d watched you pleasure yourself and he found himself effectively distracted.

“Quit it,” Wonwoo appeared behind you, whispering discreetly in your ear. He’d been watching you and Minghao from across the room and could tell that Hao was close to folding.

“Quit what?” you asked, feigning innocence, blinking up at Wonwoo with wide eyes.

“You know what,” he hissed, tugging harshly at one of the ties on your dress. “Hao, you need to go talk to the president of the bank.”

Minghao stood up straight and cleared his throat. Wonwoo was right, some clear objectives needed to be met tonight. He downed the rest of the drink and made his way towards the president, leaving you and Wonwoo alone. You were disappointed when Wonwoo’s eyes caught another potential investor’s and he left you just as swiftly.

You sulked. When Wonwoo and Hao had originally asked if you’d wanted to attend, the idea of getting dolled up to attend this fancy event had appealed to you. Still, you hadn’t realized just how much business they both intended to do! You’d spent the last few hours mostly by yourself and your feet absolutely throbbed with pain, so you were in a bad mood to say the least. 

Well, if Minghao and Wonwoo weren’t going to pay attention to you, you were sure you could find someone else who would.

“Oh, Dylan?” you smiled happily as you caught sight of a young investor that you had met a few months ago.

“Oh, YN? I didn’t know you’d be here tonight!” the handsome young gentleman smiled, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either!” your eyes sparkled at him, squeezing him back maybe just a tad too enthusiastically. “How have you been?”

“Good, very good actually,” he answered after some thought. “Are you tied up? If not, let’s grab a drink to catch up.”

“Not at all,” you smiled back genially. “Let’s do it!” You placed your hand into his and allowed him to lead you towards the bar. Wonwoo and Minghao’s relationship with Dylan was interesting and complicated. As an investor of many businesses, he was somehow both a prospect and a competitor at the same time. While they often found themselves competing with businesses that he held a stake in, they would also more than welcome investment from him. As always, you were acting in a way that you knew would irritate them, but wouldn’t completely piss them off.

Minghao’s eyes flitted to you from across the room. Dylan Wang wasn’t on the list of marks for the evening, but certainly would’ve been a ‘nice to have’. He and Wonwoo did their best to stay engaged in their respective conversations, but every simpering giggle that fell from your lips caused their ears to prick towards you. Their eyes met, communicating silently. They finished their respective schmoozing and moved to intercept you.

“Oh, Hao!” your eyes lit up as you saw him first. “Dylan, you remember my colleague, Minghao?” you beamed at Dylan as you gestured towards Hao.

“Of course,” Dylan nodded at the other man.

“It’s good to see you again,” Minghao greeted him stiffly, almost physically fighting the urge to stare daggers at the hand draped around your waist.

“Actually, if you have a moment, I’d love to pick your brain,” Hao finally came up with an excuse, prying Dylan from your side. At the same time, Wonwoo materialized behind you and pulled you behind a heavily foliaged fiddle leaf fig.

“Care to explain yourself?” He asked, peering at you down the line of his nose.

“About?” you asked, as if clueless. Wonwoo’s eyebrows twitched with irritation before he replied.

“A little bit of attention and he can put his hands on you? Are you that easy?” he sneered. His eyes flicked over you in a way that triggered a warmth to spread across your cheeks.

Your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could retort.

“I know you’re bored, but if you don’t get a hold of yourself, you’ll have something else to worry about,” he hissed in your ear, gripping your hips tightly.

Your brow wrinkled with confusion, so Wonwoo went on to elaborate.

“You are dangerously close to getting bent over and railed right here. If you’re that desperate we can ruin this whole event. I’m almost past caring at this point.”

The words were menacing and sent a chill down your spine. Part of you thought that Wonwoo was above his baser urges and wouldn’t undo months of planning just to punish you, but the other part of you had seen this man at his most unhinged and you thought perhaps he just might.

“It’s so boring though,” you frowned. You could feel Wonwoo’s poor mood rolling off of him.

“Then go home,” he spoke through his teeth. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message.

“Car’s coming.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, stomping  off towards the coat check.

“Be ready when we get home,” he caught your wrist, voice so low you could barely hear it. “And don’t think it’s worth your while to get a head start.”

You swallowed, eyes narrowing at him before you tried to step away. Wonwoo’s fingers bit into you, a warning, and you nodded before you slipped out of his grip and worked towards the car. Your lips curled up into a smile once you were out of his line of sight. If you played your cards right, you might get what you wanted.

…

Wonwoo ran his right hand over his face as he looked at the phone in his left hand. He’d thought that sending you home would be enough to make you behave, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He scrolled through the pictures and texts that he had had to silence and his blood boiled.

“She’s in for it, isn’t she?” Minghao chuckled, throwing his partner a wry look.

“What do you think?” Wonwoo almost snapped.

“Don’t get mad at me, I’m not the one being a brat,” Hao threw his hands up in defense.

“No, but you encourage her,” Woo accused. Generally he enjoyed the dynamic nature of your relationship, but it really would’ve been easier tonight if you had just been good.

“Shall we take bets on whether she managed to wait?” Hao chuckled.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Wonwoo rolled his eyes with a snicker, “She was so needy. I bet she’s a mess already.”

“I guess I’ll have to have a little faith then,” Minghao laughed, leaning forward to shake Wonwoo’s hand.

You huffed as you scrolled through your phone, disappointed but not surprised that neither Minghao nor Wonwoo had responded to your many lewd texts. You had graced them with a play by play of your various states of undress as you’d slipped out of your gown and you’d expected at least one text back, but they both seemed to be playing hardball tonight.

Your ears pricked to attention as you heard them return. First, the scraping of the key in the door was followed by a series of footsteps, but you were surprised when you heard them stop. You couldn’t see it, but Wonwoo and Minghao were discussing the approach they planned to take, which had the added bonus of making you wait. Eventually, their footfalls resumed and they entered your room, the stern expressions on their faces sending a chill down your spine.

“Hi,” you greeted them. Your voice sounded small, even to yourself.

“I guess I was wrong, Hao,” Wonwoo sneered, barely even looking at you, “She was able to control herself.”

“I guess so,” Minghao chuckled, hands in his pockets. “I’ll owe you.”

“Did you take bets on me?” your brow wrinkled as you pieced things together. You were both offended and excited.

“And if we did?” Wonwoo looked down his nose at you, one eyebrow raised. When you couldn’t formulate a response his lips curled up into a smirk. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Even though you grew weak when Wonwoo treated you this way, you couldn't help the reflexive way your temper flared. Glaring at him, you crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly.

“Great, you’re home. Now good night,” you scrunched your nose at him, laying back down and pulling the covers over yourself. Minghao was amused at this behavior and he complied easily when Wonwoo gestured for him to go to you.

“Good night?” Hao cooed, sitting next to you on the bed, running his fingertips across your exposed shoulder. “After all that teasing, you’re just going to go to bed?”

“You guys are boring anyways,” you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but you shifted slightly so that you were facing him more.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Hao smiled down at you, trailing his fingers up your neck to cup your chin and rub the pad of his thumb against your lower lip. You hummed, preening under his praise.

“You looked so good tonight, it was hard to keep my hands off you,” he continued to shower you with compliments as Wonwoo wandered towards the dresser and pulled the top drawer open.

“Pfft,” you rolled your eyes at Hao.

Wonwoo’s expression ticked at this behavior. You’d been riding the line with your poor behavior all night and this pushed him over the edge.

“Out of bed, now,” his deep voice rang out tersely. You looked at him with surprise and his expression sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed loudly, pulse quickening as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. The edge that you could hear in Wonwoo’s voice made you wonder if you had pushed too hard.

“Come here,” he instructed, back still facing you as he perused the contents of the drawer. You glanced at Minghao nervously before stepping towards Wonwoo, looking at his broad back until he turned to face you. His tongue swiped across his teeth as he took in your pajama set with distaste. 

“Get out of this,” were the last words he spoke before he tossed a bundle of shibari rope at Minghao and pulled an app-controlled vibrator out of the drawer.

Minghao started undoing the rope from its storage tie and looked towards Wonwoo for guidance on how he wanted you tonight. After ensuring that the toy was connected to his phone, Wonwoo brought himself toe to toe with you, pulling your chin up harshly to meet his gaze.

“Color?” he asked. His tone was cold, but you could see a hint of softness in his eyes if you squinted.

“Green.”

“Limits?”

“Same as usual,” you blinked up at him.

Wonwoo nodded before shifting slightly to position your arms behind you so that Minghao could tie you up. He folded your forearms together so that each hand held the opposite elbow and you enjoyed the slight stretch that you felt through your shoulders. Your skin broke out in goosebumps as Hao started binding you. His fingertips trailed across your skin teasingly as he snaked rope around you, snapping it against your skin tautly every so often for impact. Your arms were effectively immobilized and the rope created a harness around your chest. Hao slipped two fingers into each of your hands and you gripped them tightly, completing his check to ensure he hadn’t cut off your circulation.

“Knees,” Wonwoo demanded as he rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. He smirked as you dropped for him, struggling for a moment to keep your balance as you didn’t have your arms to help right you. His eyes burned into you as he pulled at his tie, loosening it before he approached. Your nipples puckered being in this vulnerable position as adrenaline rushed through you.

“You look so good like this,” Hao cupped your cheek in his hand as he stood behind you. “On your knees for us.”

“Hn,” you giggled, looking up at him sweetly as his thumb grazed your lips. You opened your mouth, sucking his thumb into your wet hole.

“Look at you. You’ll put your mouth on anything, won’t you?” Wonwoo sneered, eyes trained on the shape your lips made around Minghao’s digit. He allowed it to go on for a few more moments before he snaked a hand into your hair, pulling you back. You gasped in surprise and Wonwoo seized the opportunity to pop the remote controlled vibe into your mouth. 

“Hold this for me,” he chuckled sarcastically. You narrowed your eyes at him, but whatever retort you could have come up with was effectively muzzled.

Hao patted you on the head before undoing his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He sank to his knees behind you, checking your grip before using his hands to torture you. Wonwoo watched as Hao’s fingertips traced along his bindings, brushed along the undersides of your breasts, and gripped tightly, as if trying to bruise you. Then with his left hand, you traced along your inner thighs until he met the slick dripping out of you.

“Absolutely fucking soaked,” he snickered as he nipped at your collarbone sharply. “Pathetic.”

You let out a desperate, muffled sound, forgetting that Wonwoo’s toy was still in your mouth.

“Shall I?” Minghao’s eyes flitted up to the older man’s.

“Yes, can’t have her leaking all over the place, after all,” Wonwoo nodded after blinking slowly.

Hao chuckled as he plucked the toy from your mouth, reaching between your legs, and sliding it into you, nice and snug. Your arousal provided more than sufficient lubrication and you felt yourself being filled until the base sat securely against your clit. Your hips jerked slightly at this new sensation, arching back against his broad chest.

You clenched around the toy and watched Wonwoo play with his phone lazily. He didn’t even bother to look at you as you turned it on, setting it abuzz at a medium setting.

“Oh!” you whimpered pathetically, jumping slightly. Minghao’s grip on your rope harness, however, held you firmly in place as you soaked the toy lodged deep inside of you. You squirmed and twisted as Wonwoo increased the speed. 

“Wonwoo!” you pleaded with him fruitlessly.

“Hao,” Wonwoo’s eyebrows jerked up slightly and Minghao nodded, reaching forward to press his palm against the base of the toy. You jerked again, desperate for relief, but Hao’s grip on your harness was ironclad.

“Hao!” you cried, tears welling in your eyes as his right hand pressed against you, grinding the buzzing toy cruelly against your sopping wet, swollen clit. You let out a mangled scream as your first orgasm ripped through you, your head falling back against Hao’s shoulder, chest heaving beautifully for Wonwoo to witness.

“One more,” Hao whispered in your ear as he kept the toy pressed against you, working you through another orgasm until you were gasping wildly for breath.

“I fucking hate you two,” you cursed between inhale and exhale, body heavy as you tried to gather yourself.

“You keep running your mouth like that and I’ll leave you tied up on the floor with the toy on all night,” Wonwoo’s eyes flashed dangerously at you. Your lips pressed into a straight line before you could say anything else.

“That’s better,” Wonwoo scoffed, squatting down in front of you, jerking you up by Hao’s ties to meet him. “Open.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your mouth, already anticipating his next move. Wonwoo’s expression was a mixture of appreciation and disdain when he sent a glob of saliva flying into your mouth. You let out the tiniest of whimpers when it landed at the back of your tongue. You hated and loved how well he knew you.

“You might as well put your mouth to use,” Wonwoo stood, gesturing towards Minghao as he walked away.

You turned to Minghao with a playful grin, licking your lips with anticipation. Minghao’s lips curled up into a smile, but he surprised you when he moved away from you, instead electing to sit in a chair across the room. He leaned back, legs spread as he palmed himself through the front of his pants. When you didn’t move, he looked up, eyes hooded, and summoned you towards him with two fingers.

You threw him a look. He really expected you to get to him on your knees like this?

“Come,” he coaxed, voice deceptively like honey as he palmed himself through his slacks.

You struggled a little, but eventually managed to balance on your knees and shuffle towards him. For a moment you contemplated rather you’d prefer being unbound, as crawling would be less difficult, though maybe more humiliating. By the time you had managed to wedge yourself between his legs, your arousal had dripped practically down to your knees.

“That’s our good girl,” Wonwoo settled in behind you, placing his fingers into your hands for another safety check. “Now show him what that filthy mouth is good for,” he grinned. “Don’t forget to use your physical cues on me if you need.”

You nodded, smiling gratefully before leaning forward to drag your lips across Minghao’s erection. You nibbled along the underside of it until you reached the tip and pulled him into your mouth. You hummed contentedly when you heard him hiss with pleasure. Minghao always made such nice sounds. Being restrained posed a bit of an extra challenge, but you managed to find a position where you were comfortable enough to bob your head up and down his length, breath catching every so often when his tip hit the back of your throat.

“So sloppy,” Minghao exhaled, puncturing the quiet as his abs contracted and twitched.

Wonwoo gripped your hips, grinding himself against your ass as he watched with admiration. You were going to leave a stain on his slacks, but that only served to egg him on more. Something in Wonwoo snapped as he watched you moan around Minghao’s cock and his thrusts grew sharper and more desperate. Digging his fingertips into your hips, he pulled you back, jerking Minghao out of your mouth. You cried out loudly as Wonwoo ground himself against the toy still firmly lodged inside of you.

“Wonwoo,” you wailed.“Please!”

“Oh?” he cooed, deceptively sweet, in your ear. “Gonna cum again? Cum for me?”

“Yes, Woo,” you nodded desperately.

“Go ahead,” he ordered, hand now fisted around one of the shibari ropes around your back. His hips pumped against you mercilessly and you came with a fluttery wail, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“Do you want your arms back?” Wonwoo murmured against the top of your head as he supported you.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Hao,” Wonwoo jerked his head towards you and Minghao quickly set upon untying you. You smiled at him gratefully as he supported your upper body, rubbing your shoulders gently where he knew you’d be stiff.

“I do enjoy seeing you marked up like this,” Wonwoo raised an eyebrow as he counted the indents that the rope had left on your skin as he pulled you to your feet.

You turned to reach for him, eager at his praise. You were completely surprised when he caught you by the side of the face and held you away at arm’s length.

“Wha-?” you mumbled against his palm.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo asked, tone cold.

“Oh, I just-,” you stuttered, “I thought-...” you trailed off. Now that you tried to put it into words, you didn’t know what you’d been thinking.

“Now we all know that thinking isn’t your strong suit, kitten. Do you really think that after all your bad behavior today, you’re going to get a sweet little kiss?” he sneered at you.

“Not when you put it like that,” you pouted.

“So desperate for attention that you were even willing to let Dylan Wang put his hands on you,” Minghao appeared behind you, hand sliding over your hip possessively. “Did you forget who you belong to?”

“No, I-,” your craned your head, eyes searching him out.

“Laughing like a simpering little twit at his bad jokes, hanging off his arm,” Wonwoo seethed, pulling your attention back to him. They were giving you whiplash.

“I-,” you struggled to think. Your knees threatened to buckle, but Wonwoo and Minghao had closed in on you and their torsos sandwiched you firmly upright.

“Tell us who you belong to, doll,” Hao’s lips nipped at your ear. The warm, wet whisper of breath made you dizzy and even though you knew the answer, you truly floundered as you tried to say it.

“Jeon Wonwoo! Xu Minghao!”

Both men cracked into a smile.

“Very good. Now shall we get some sleep? It’s been a long day,” Wonwoo teased.

“No!” you were surprised at the urgency with which your objection came out.

“Oh? So what is it that you want?” Wonwoo’s eyes raked over you.

“You know what I want,” you glared at him.

“I do. But I want you to use your words,” he patted your cheek condescendingly.

“I need you two to fuck me,” you answered, well past shameless at this point. You needed them and you’d do almost anything to get it.

“You won’t even be satisfied by one cock?” Hao laughed.

“Please, I’ve been go-,” you started to make your case, but you realized you didn’t have one. “Well, I’ve been waiting all night. Please.”

Wonwoo and Minghao both let out hearty laughs at your self-correction. Even if you weren’t always good, you’d always been honest, even to a fault.

“You have been waiting all night,” Wonwoo’s expression softened. “I suppose you can have what you want.”

“Really?” your eyes lit up.

They practically carried you to the bed, tossing you carelessly onto it. You watched, eyes glistening, as they undressed. Your thighs pressed together and you were surprised. With all of their teasing and torture, you’d completely forgotten that the toy was still inside of you. Wonwoo noticed at the same time that you did and he reached forward, plucking it from between your legs. He surprised you when he licked it, noting how you’d soaked it completely.

“Tasty,” he grinned, eyeing you hungrily as he set it aside.

You balked, ducking your head and flushing with disbelief. Hao chuckled at how you got shy before he slid his hands up your thighs and pushed your legs apart. His cock landed against your wet folds a few times as he teased you.

“Wow, completely drenched,” he groaned appreciatively as he watched your arousal coat his shaft. You squirmed, pushing your hips up towards him desperately. You needed more.

“Hao,” you mewled, grasping at his forearms. “No more teasing, please!”

Minghao chuckled. He might’ve been nicer than Wonwoo, but he still wasn’t that nice. He shifted to slide the tip of himself inside of you, but no further. Your brows knitted up with anticipation and then confusion when you realized what was happening. You tried pressing your hips up to take more of him, but he pulled back, managing to keep himself just barely inside of you.

“Minghao,” you huffed, clearly frustrated, but you kept trying, shifting your hips fruitlessly. It was as if you both held the ends of a rope and Minghao was doing his best to keep it just barely slack.

Wonwoo looked on with interest. He was surprised to see Hao in this kind of mood, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it. Smiling, he moved to the other side of the bed, towards your head. He leaned over you, cupping your cheek softly.

“Wonwoo,” you clutched at him naturally, “Woo, please,” you begged.

“Sorry kitten,” Wonwoo cooed condescendingly at you, his lips whispering above yours as he watched you writhe. Sweat beaded up on your nose as you tried, again and again, to work yourself down Minghao’s cock.

“Hao, please,” your eyes watered as you looked at him, fraught with arousal.

The corner of Minghao’s lip turned up just a fraction before he bucked his hips towards you, thrusting deeply. The gasp you let out tickled his ego and he continued, stroking into you deeply. From Wonwoo’s vantage point, it would almost seem brutal, but both he and Minghao knew it was what you wanted and needed.

Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed as a wicked idea formed in his head. He leaned over you slightly and placed his palm against your lower abdomen, pressing down lightly.

“Wonwoo!” You and Minghao both let out jagged gasps at this additional pressure. Hao threaded his fingers through yours and after two more thrusts, orgasms ripped through you both.

“Bastard,” Hao cursed after he had caught his breath.

Wonwoo laughed. He’d certainly been called worse. As Minghao rolled off of you, he cupped your cheek again. Your eyes flicked up to him and he was surprised to see they were still full of want.

“More?” he asked.

“Want you, Woo,” you murmured affectionately, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Insatiable,” he laughed, but it was something he adored about you. He and Minghao traded places and Wonwoo slotted himself between your legs. Minghao’s cum was starting to leak so he quickly gathered it up and pushed it back into you.

Minghao’s hands cupped your chin as Wonwoo slid into you. He watched your pupils dilate as your mouth fell open, letting out the most gorgeous whimpers and sobs. He allowed himself to be mesmerized by you for a few moments before he returned to the task at hand - to make you cum and cum and cum until you were completely spent.

Hao and Wonwoo got along great, but when it came to your dynamics as three, they were nothing if not competitive. Minghao’s hands brushed along your skin, bringing up goosebumps. When they rolled over your nipples, you clenched, which wrinkled Wonwoo’s brow just a hair. Minghao looked down to hide his smirk. That was easy.

“You’re so responsive. You must be sensitive, doll,” Hao cooed in your ear as he reached down to rub your clit with his fingertips. You jerked slightly at his touch, walls squeezing around Wonwoo again as Hao worked counterclockwise.

Your mouth fell open, letting out a series of short pants as Hao worked you quickly to another orgasm. Wonwoo’s brows pinched together as your pussy spasmed around him torturously. He managed to keep his resolve, but Minghao did not ease up, fingers rubbing again, this time slower and firmer.

“Hao,” you moaned as you sank into the mattress. They were really intent on wrecking you tonight, huh?

“Pretty little toy,” Minghao cooed in your ear, “You’ll take it, won’t you? Whatever we give.”

“Ahh!” you cried. His words were enough to push you over the edge again. You convulsed around Wonwoo as you came and Minghao was truly surprised to see him continue to buck into you, adding to your overstimulation.

You had barely managed a few lungfuls of air before it started again. Wonwoo’s hand came down to rest around your throat as he met your eyes. His gaze was intense and you could feel yet another orgasm building in you already. You bit down on your bottom lip. You didn’t need to use your safe word yet, but you were starting to wonder how much more you could take. You were brought out of your thoughts, however, when Minghao landed a loud, wet slap against your clit. The knob of heat in your belly exploded through you violently. Wonwoo grunted loudly as you triggered his orgasm and he unloaded deep inside of you as you came.

You didn’t pass out, but it felt like you were regaining consciousness as you caught your breath. You were sore, tired, and so utterly satisfied. You grinned up at Hao and Wonwoo happily, eyes creasing into semi-circles. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Wonwoo spoke first, shifting off you. “It’s been a long day.”

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” you asked as you settled into the pillows.

“What, still haven’t had enough?” Minghao teased, grabbing your chin gently.

“No plans yet,” Wonwoo answered. The toy he’d set on the nightstand earlier caught his eye. He picked it up and his eyes flashed at you playfully. “Maybe we’ll go out and make better use of this.”

You swallowed audibly.

[sphireath-wisp]

#Ragequit

Synopsis: They hear you say the most outrageous, uncensored, vulgar, out-of-hand, scandalous, disgraceful, atrocious things while raging playing games.

Warnings: Not proofread, vulgar language(?), fake threats (NO DEATH THREATS, I DON'T CONDONE THAT), suggestive 😨😨 (I warned you it was atrocious)

Note: These are all real things quoted by my friend, @dewwberry. I'm being fr right now

Featuring: Micheal Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi x GN! reader

Micheal Kaiser

"Sweetheart, are you done with the computer?" You peek your head into the room, watching his gaze melt when you enter the room. Kaiser turns his chair to face you, arms instinctively reaching out to hold you by the waist. You get his message, straddling yourself onto his comfortable lap.

"Mhm," Kaiser releases his gentle grasp on you, allowing you to shift around and face the computer. "Playing games, eh?" Kaiser whispers to you, fingers traveling to your hips as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You nod, "I've been bored all day and you've done nothing but work so..."

"Let me watch then," Kaiser hums, leaning back to give you space. Cracking your knuckles, you excitedly drum your fingers against the table as your favorite game loads in.

You hear congratulatory whistles from the man behind you every time you got a headshot, pulling your hair out of your face whenever it bothers you. Honestly, it felt more like he was staring at your focused expression than the game itself. He couldn't help but tease you, a cheeky grin forming on his face when his hands travel from your waist down to your hips and rested comfortably on your thighs.

An irritated groan escapes you when you die again due to the same guy, smashing your mouse against the mouse pad, "I'm gonna shoot your house down," You continue to swerve your mouse around, unaware of your boyfriend, absolutely stunned by your words. (He's played games with you... what have you said about him without him knowing?)

Normally, he would laugh his ass off at you dying again

"Yeah, that's right, eat my ass!" You jump in your seat, a victorious cheer escaping you the moment you kill off the last guy. Kaiser blinks at your sudden words, eyes widening when you innocently type in an innocent 'gg!!' in the chat.

You turn your head to him, a satisfied look on your face. Tilting your head, you asked, "Something wrong?" Kaiser recovers from his shock, a frown on his face. "You can't go saying that to strangers, Meine Liebe. I only want to hear you saying that to me."

Kaiser feels an elbow nudge him, a flustered face looking back at him. Don't expect to receive an apology though, he was 100% serious about what he said.

Sae Itoshi

Normally, Sae would expect his lovely significant other to greet him home with warm arms and a kiss - especially after a long trip away from home. It's been so many nights and days since he was in your arms, he'd really love to receive a good hug from you right now.

However, all he received when he opened the door was the sound of gunshots and ecstatic shouting. Almost instantly, he knew you were on that game again. Sighing, he closes the door. All the sounds he made were drowned out purely by how loud the game was.

Softly opening the door, he looked inside the room. A small smile unconsciously forms on his face, watching you with a competitive grin on your face. Judging by your expression, you seemed to be winning by a landslide.

Leaning back on your chair, cheers erupt from you and your teammates as the game ends. "Hold up, let me get some snacks," Your teammate says, typing 'afk' in the chat.

"Hm, I'm craving Sae's lollipop." Sae's smile twists into a stare of disbelief, jaw dropping. Did you really... really just say that out loud?

Sudden gunshots ensue as you arch your back to lean forward to your computer. Urgently clicking on your keyboard whilst you run away from the players chasing you down, "(Teammate name), get back here and help me! Ohmydaysohmydays,"

"AAA, you better stop shooting me or else I'm going to shoot your whole family down!" You scream at the computer, "I hope both sides of your pillow are warm tonight!"

You feel a hand press against your forehead suddenly, stealing your attention away from the computer as you blink incessantly at your husband. "Oh, Sae! You're home, already?" Your aggressive tone dissipates as if it never even existed - you completely switched characters.

"...Are you sick?" Your fingers glide around Sae's hand against your forehead, feeling around your face and shaking your head. You hear sad music from your computer and your attention returns to the computer, "Fuck, I died."

Sae's hand cups your cheek, fingers digging into your skin a little harder than you'd prefer. His hand snaps your neck to gaze back at him. He rests his forehead against yours for a few seconds, closing his eyes. Your lips part for a moment, in awe of the man you married in front of you.

Sae suddenly breaks the tension, standing back up. "If you're not physically sick, you have to be mentally sick for saying that." You scoff dramatically even though you had a grin planted on your face, turning your chair back to face the computer. Reviving yourself, you won the round in a short amount of time, your mouth zipped shut.

He smirked in response to your new attitude, playing along, "That's my girl." You replied to his comment with a good jab to his side.

Rin Itoshi

Being quite competitive himself, he loved to play games with you. He's had his fair share of matches with you and I can 100% assure you he says the most barbaric, diabolical things. He was dragged into Roblox because of you and you made fun of him for losing to a bunch of 9-year-olds.

He would bet a lot of things whenever the both of you play games. Little arguments and disagreements like who would choose where to eat would always be settled with games. It was a boost of pride for him whenever he saw your defeated face, pouting and huffing for a rematch.

His favorite games are when the both of you can work as a team (2 player princess tycoon). An involuntary smile appears on his face whenever the both of you win, insisting that he carried the team to victory. For some reason though, he can only play as a team with you. He only takes orders from you and hates being told what to do by Isagi or Bachira.

"The last one is running over to your side, they should be low right now," Rin comments to you, who is calling him over the phone.

"Come here, Pookie!" You grin as you begin to chase the person, not noticing Rin's disgusted glare at you. "As long as you get him, I don't care what you call him," He rolls his eyes. Despite what Rin had retorted, you had always been the one calling him Pookie so it soured his mood a little to hear you call someone that.

Once you shoot off the last person, a bright victory banner appears on both of your screens. "RAHHH, big daddy wins again!" You exclaim, stretching.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he seems almost disappointed with your antics. "I'm coming over," You let out an audible 'huh' at his sudden declaration. "W- what? Why?" The notification that he left the server does nothing but confirm that he's actually on his way.

After a lot of shuffling and background noise, Rin replied "To shut you up." What a lame excuse to come over and hang out, right? You giggle at his words, leaving the server and lifting yourself up to your feet, and fishing out your keys. Judging by the background, you guess that Rin's already close by.

Opening the door for him and leaning against the frame of it, you question, "And, how will you do that?" Out of nowhere, Rin appears in your line of vision, a hand on your chin as he gives you a passionate kiss. After he breathlessly breaks the kiss, he wraps his arm around your waist, "I'll shut you up like this."

Yoichi Isagi

Isagi had gone out to buy snacks a while ago, noticing how you haven't eaten all morning because you were too preoccupied with your game. The moment he returned home, he could hear your yells and he deduced that you still haven't gotten off that game.

"Ohmygosh, he picked me up!??!" You yelled out loud which made Isagi's movements come to a halt for a second... what kind of game were you playing now? He feels chills slither down his spine, shivers rushed through him whilst he pieces together memories of you buying this love simulator game on a whim.

"I love being held by men, especially Isagi," He heard a giddily sweet giggle from the room, making his cheeks heat up when your words repeat in his head like a broken record. He hears the voice of another woman - probably from the game judging by how... dramatic it sounded.

"You... I...!" The woman from the game blurted, "This isn't over! I'll be back. He's mine, you better watch your back." It sounded like a classic mean girl.

Isagi hears another prideful laugh, entering the room just as you state the most repulsive, foul, vile thing ever, "HAHA, suck on my big fat juicy nuts."

You hear the creak of the door, snapping your head over and covering your mouth to stifle your gasp. An awkward moment of deafening silence burns this moment into your memory, you feel your gut twist in a bad way.

You bury your flushed face in your palms in shame, profuse apologies slipping from your lips. "Aha, that's certainly not the thing I expected to hear when entering a room," Isagi plays it off, having experienced a lot of embarrassing moments in front of you too.

He looks at your screen, seeing an avatar that somewhat resembles him and another avatar that resembles you. Isagi laughs, patting your back when you curl yourself up into a ball and hug your knees to your chest.

"I mean... they're sort of cute together?" Isagi mentions. You scream internally, chiding yourself. "Isagi, sweetie, as much as I appreciate your effort, you aren't helping."

You feel warm fingers slowly graze your cheek, lifting your head up to return his gaze. His maneuvers are smooth, slowly tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning in for a deep kiss. You see him step back - almost too early to your liking. Your finger pats your lips, still registering the kiss you got.

"Your new chapstick tastes good," You see Isagi lick his lips before bending down for another kiss, holding your hand by the wrist out of his way.

"Did that make you feel better?" He grins, a rosy pink adorning his cheeks, content with your nod.

[gaoau]

Bristle — Leap of Faith

A Mother's Instinct note — inspired by that one episode of Adventure Time where finn turns into a foot warnings — none. word count — 1.8k

next.

Somewhere around his second year of high-school, Yaku's body began randomly reacting to absolutely nothing; the same three reactions happening out of the blue and in no specific order.

Sometimes he would feel shivers running down his spine, other times the hairs on the back of his head would bristle unexpectedly as if someone had blown air on his neck. The most common one was the way his stomach would stir itself up for no reason. He had always passed it off as unforeseen hunger in the middle of a lecture, but when he went to satisfy his appetite, it would vanish into nothingness.

Instead, utter concern and worry made his heart sink down to his stomach to fill it up. His blood pumped a thousand times faster at the sight of puffy, red eyes stumbling towards him. Enter [Surname] [Name], Nekoma's Boys' Volleyball Club's manager and dear friend of the third-years in the team—being a third-year herself. Somehow, by some odd coincidence, she would always appear by the door of his classroom, holding back her tears after Yaku's inexplicable stomach rumbles.

Sitting at home was no exception. He could be calmly trying to stuff useless school material into his brain when his stomach would start growling at him. Next thing he knew, his phone was blowing up with keyboard-smashes and unreadable hiragana from [Name]. More often than he'd like, a shocking shiver would attack his spine and not a minute later he was answering [Name]'s call to give his opinion on a stupid idea. Sometimes she'd skip the call entirely and show up at school the next day with unevenly pierced upper earlobes.

After months of trying to understand these random reactions—although failing miserably—Yaku arrived at a conclusion. [Name], his carefree best friend, one way or another, was connected to them. He had yet to put a label on them or find any reasonable explanation, but he had come to accept the bristling on his nape and started reacting accordingly. Or as accordingly as he could.

After politely thanking the cashier, Yaku made a beeline for the exit. The automatic doors slid open for him to step outside and scan the sidewalk with his frowning glare. Holding a paper bag to his chest, Yaku turned from the pair of first-years approaching him while chatting animatedly, to his friends resting on a bench. He sighed upon finding only three boys, opening his mouth to articulate the dreaded question the bristles on his neck were inciting him to ask. He bit his own tongue when Lev accidentally bumped into him as he entered the store with Inuoka by his side.

Shooting an annoyed grumble and a sharp glower towards the half-russian beanpole—to which Lev replied with a dismissive Sorry, Yaku-san!—Yaku returned his attention to his teammates on the bench. Kai smiled kindly at him while Kuroo and Kenma busied themselves with their phones.

He sighed, "Anyone's seen [Name]?" He feared whatever his friends could say, of course he did; if the hairs on his nape that had been standing like those of a startled cat told him anything, it was that he wouldn't like the answer.

"Uh, she was over there playing with Lev and Inuoka—Ah, she's not there anymore, huh." Kuroo lifted his gaze from his mobile, while pointing an uninterested finger in what had been [Name]'s general direction.

Yaku's scowl only deepened; there weren't many places—nor reasons—to sneak off to, especially a Saturday evening after practice. "Are you serious? Those two literally just walked in. Where did she go now?"

"She should be fine. It's [Name]."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Couldn't have gone too far." Kuroo let a chuckle fall from his lips, shrugging at Yaku's baseless worry. He went back to his phone for a millisecond before raising his head again. "Oh, hey, did you get me my buns?"

Yaku shoved his hand inside his paper bag, bringing out the two wrapped buns Kuroo had asked—more like forced—him to buy. "Yeah, sure, he—" His mouth snapped shut at the feeling of the hairs on his nape bristling once more. The food fell onto Kuroo's lap without regards as Yaku whipped around. His eyes bounced everywhere from the front of the store to the sidewalk across the street. "[Name]?! Where are you?!"

"Over here!" [Name]'s voice responded loud and clear to the call of her name. Her volume was only a bit higher than usual, enough for Yaku to hear her. Despite not sounding far off in the distance, the fact that her words flew down from above him made his heart rate pick up considerably.

"[Name]? Where ar—[Name], get down! What are you doing?!" The last thing he expected to find when craning his neck upwards was his best friend clinging onto the bark of the nearest tree. She miraculously managed to keep her balance, her feet clad only with socks for a better grip on the branch she stood on. Glancing down, he could see her disregarded sneakers by the roots of the tree.

At the sound of their libero's frantic concern as he yelled at [Name], the rest of the team veered their attention to the pair. Kuroo puffed a chuckle, watching [Name] bend over to poke her head through the canopy of leaves. Out the automatic doors, the first-years poured out alongside Yamamoto and Fukunaga, hands occupied with an after-practice snack. Their eyes were also caught by their manager hugging a tree as she tried to maneuver around its branches.

Lev's face lit up almost instantly, darting to stand by Yaku's side and gaze up at [Name] trying to crouch without falling over. "You go, [Name]-san! You got this!" Yaku side-eyed his underclassman with a glowering frown. Lev paid no heed as he pumped his fists in front of his chest, mouth filled with a half-chewed bite of a pork bun, yet he still cheered [Name] on. Inuoka echoed his encouragement while approaching the tree, Shibayama following behind him with a sheepish smile.

Yaku had half a mind to reprimand his juniors, but instead opted to stay on the task at hand. That task being [Name] up on a tree for whatever idea had popped in that brain of hers. He cocked a questioning brow, his lips twisting into a frown. "[Name], you better have a good reason to be up there."

"Funny story, actually." A light-hearted laugh spilled from her lips. Her stories were never funny. She plopped down on the branch carelessly, making it wobble ever-so-slightly. Yaku's hands shot upwards as a reflex, just in case she fell and he had to catch her. [Name] swung her legs back and forth, still holding tightly to the bark by her side. "Okay, here's the thing. I was dicking around with the kiddos, and I managed to get the volleyball stuck up here… somewhere?"

Joining Yaku and the first-years, the remaining volleyball players stood by to witness the chaos. Kuroo's mocking chuckle rang. "This way, kitty-kitty." His index finger pointed towards his left—[Name]'s right—where he could see the classic tri-colored ball trapped among virid leaves.

"Thanks, babe, fuck you, too." [Name] rose back to her feet while shooting Kuroo a playful retort.

"For fuck's sake, [Name], Lev's a literal beanpole, he could just jump and grab it."

"Listen, Morisuke, I'm a responsible senpai. I break it, I fix it. I'm being a proper example." Her eyes at last landed on the ball, not in reach but not impossibly far away either. Just one more branch, a little stretching, and she had it.

Yaku's sigh mixed with an exasperated groan. "You're—You're not. [Name], please, get down, you know how last time ended."

[Name] snorted. Wrapping her hands tightly around the sturdiest-looking branches, she hopped closer to the stuck volleyball. "Okay, so what if I broke my ankle? Gotta do this anyway. Too late to go back."

"[Name], for the love of God, how did you even get up there?"

"Oh, you know, when you have a two-meter—Ah! There it goes!" After frantically shaking the branches in reach, the ball broke free from among the leaves and fell right into Lev's hands. "See? All's well that ends well. Now's when you say Great job, [Name], I love you." Confidently, [Name] hopped back on her tracks, returning to sitting on the lowest branch. Her legs swung cheerfully a few feet above the boys' heads.

"[Name], please, get down."

"It's a nice view up here, you know? How about you come up and we watch the sunset?"

"[Name], it's midday. Come down before I pull you."

"Fine." [Name] huffed, palms raising in mock innocence. "Tetsurou, I'm coming down."

"Hah?"

A shiver crawled down Yaku's spine at [Name]'s words; his instincts screamed at him that she was two seconds away from making a stupid decision. A deep crease formed between his brows, eyes wide in panicked anticipation. "[Name], whatever you're planning, don't."

But rare were the days [Name] actually listened to Yaku's warnings. With a body full of energetic youth and childlike adrenaline, her decisions were taken before they were rationalized. Right in front of her very eyes, the world was presenting her the opportunity to take a leap of faith into the arms of her friend. What were the odds of Kuroo making an effort to catch her safe and sound?

[Name] didn't know, nor did she care. Finding it out was part of the fun.

The volleyball team had no time to react as they watched their manager jump off the branch she sat on, two meters away from the ground. Kuroo crumbled underneath her unexpected weight crashing down on him, while Yaku cried out in aggravation. Yamamoto exploded into laughter at the sight of his upperclassmen writhing on the sidewalk, limbs a tangled mess. Whining groans of pain and hysteric cackles rang into the sky, mixing carefreely with the Spring breeze and blowing away.

Yaku tried to futilely muster his best, most-convincing glower as he tugged [Name] to her feet and tapped his knuckles against her temple. Behind his furrowed brows, [Name] effortlessly spotted the amusement dancing in his irises and his cheeks puffing to contain his chuckles. Her elbow dug into Yaku's side, inciting him to join the cacophony their friends were producing. His demon-senpai facade sank in an instant as he laughed alongside his teammates.

[ghostaholics]

ooOoo boy, I’ve had this saved in my likes because I was overwhelmed by the massive word count of this fic and wanted to dedicate an appropriate amount of time to being able to fully immerse myself in this and let me tell you, what an experience it fucking was: 17k+ words and I can’t even imagine anything less after reading it.

Everything about this is so brilliant. The characterization, the plot, the chemistry/romance. I’m such a sucker for bodyguard/protect-you fics and this really nailed it on the head for me. I love this civvy reader with Price, and it was executed wonderfully. I don’t have words. Their relationship is so freakin’ cute and I love how you demonstrated how much he cares for her and the protectiveness that’s there.

This was intense and I’m astounded by how the action unfolded. It’s really interesting to see things from the perspective of the reader and it felt so so realistic. It’s like, creeping towards 6am where I am right now because I randomly woke up a little bit ago, had the urge to pick up my phone, and then immediately went to go read this and settle myself in the for the long haul. I felt like it was calling to me, and I do not have one ounce of regret about staying up to read this. This is an amazing piece of work; it deserves nothing less than an entire essay dedicated to how fucking good it was.

Every single line, every single detail was just so fun to read. This was literally more satisfying than smut I’ve ever read. Is that an appropriate thing to say? I feel like the build up and the payoff really made this fic. I was almost debating and doing a bunch of keyboard smashes and everything else, but I’m currently writing this in the dark and know exactly what I want to say just so that I can convey the depths of my feelings.

I wish I could point out my favorite parts, but it’s the whole thing. All of it is outstanding. I love the way the flowers were worked in, the suspense — my reaction: omfg, the guy’s been stalking her for how long?! And the knowledge from the reader that this is not Price’s doing. Soooo much to unpack there and I was with this fic every step of the way. I kid you not, I could not put this down until I got to the very end, and it was absolutely worth it.

Everything about to the writing: from the plot, to the mood, and to that gorgeous fucking title. I’m losing my mind over here still wondering if I’ll ever be able to shut up about this fic, because I feel like I have so much to say. This really highlighted the difference between civvy and military life and propelled the action all the way to the end. I liked the workplace chatter in the beginning about the flowers and I was blown away when the military aspect of 141 was brought in towards the last third act (though it was already introduced through Price’s characterization towards the beginning and I think the other TF members involvement really drove that point home).

By the way, I saw your comment about the author’s note and waited for the other shoe to drop but it never came. This was perfect through and through. I think the pacing and passage of time on this fic was well done. As I said before, I think the word count made a lot of sense – everything had to be fit in, and there’s no limit to how much description has to be involved to make something like this work. I also think that even though you believed there was plot deterioration at the end, I would have to wholeheartedly disagree and regardless of whether you think there could have been more text, or if you have any things that you want to nitpick about this, I think the fic itself is sublime.

I have never loved anything more. I want this buried with me when I die. The thing about reading is that it’s supposed to really transport you to another place, and I’m so so sad that I have to back to reality after finishing this. I’m going to sit here and stew in my suffering until the end of time.

Sensational fucking work.

See No Evil

Pairing: John Price x F!reader

Synopsis: The flowers came every week – Tuesday, two O’clock, two minutes after your break. The only problem was that you knew they weren’t coming from John.

Word Count: 17.5k

Warnings: Stalking, violence, intense gore, blood, abduction, angst, fluff, protective!John, not quite smut, swearing, stereotypical ‘Bad Guy’ character who gets his ass beat, minor character death

A/N: Finished this at 3am so forgive the absolute deterioration of the plot near the end.

Keep reading

[existslikepristin]

A hefty thanks to @ggidolsmuts and @midnightdancingsol for help reviewing and editing this!

That's it. You don't get a blurb this time!

Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Gfriend/VIVIZ, SinB, technically also Yerin, talking about futa!Eunseo, feet stuff I think, weak-ass spanking, developing new kinks, a worldwide circle jerk

Fancam, Basically (Part 1 of 2)

SinB finally set up the last of her decorations. She sat back and looked at them with pride. They were perfect for packing up and concealing in a small duffel bag, yet large enough to drown the field of view of the camera in a dazzlingly fluffy display of luxury.

The camera was top of the line, and she had a dedicated computer as well. It was only average in terms of specs, but the custom software it contained was exclusive to SinB thanks to a few strings she’d pulled.

Her clothes were less exclusive, but no less perfect for the situation. For bottoms, a pale pink miniskirt over a black barely-there string thong. On top, a hot pink sheer cardigan, wide open so as not to hide the soft pastel pink lacy tank top. The only piece of clothing she was wearing that wasn’t easily visible was her black bra, which was cut so low that it only half-covered her nipples and matched her strappy stiletto heels.

An extra piece had been added to her ensemble recently: a crazy, jeweled, feathery, horned masquerade mask given to her at a fanmeet, but it sat idly on the table next to her computer along with her modest pile of equally modest sex toys. She didn’t plan on wearing it, but it was an appropriate decoration anyway.

With an excited shiver, SinB sat down on the fuzzy rug in front of the camera, shifted her bluetooth keyboard and mouse into positions that would make them easy to reach, and logged in to CamDream under her fantastically clever alias:

GeeBeeSeeBee

SinB flipped on the camera and watched her indicator light change from red to yellow. Preview mode. She had her idol status to protect, so she didn’t trust CamDream’s preview screen. Instead, she had her own installed. She would see her preview on monitor one, her chat and various other CamDream features on monitor two, and monitor three was for any extras, like watching anybody else’s camera feed. SinB was cautious. She always did a full systems check.

Camera: preview mode, of course.

Necessary application windows: open and appropriately distributed.

Paraphernalia like dildos and water: within reach.

Toe tattoo: very well-hidden.

Camera stand: bolted into the floor.

Phone: silent mode, and…

SinB squeezed her phone so hard her knuckles went white. She smashed the answer button.

“Fuck do you want?!”

Yerin snickered snidely. “I see you’re sticking to your biweekly schedule there.”

“Shut up you goddamn insect!” SinB shouted into the microphone. Hearing Yerin’s gasp of ear pain was mildly satisfying, but she couldn’t help but scold herself mentally. She had tried to avoid a confrontation with Yerin about what happened during her Russian ski trip. But that was a bad idea. She had hoped that if she pretended not to know anything, Yerin would eventually figure GeeBeeSeeBee wasn’t actually her and drop the issue.

Clearly, she should have known Yerin was more persistent than that.

“Hey now Beeb, no need to get your dildo in a twist! I’mma just teasing you!”

Part of the benefit of Yerin dropping the issue would have been that the obsessive bitch would still watch GeeBeeSeeBee’s show, still unsure if it was really SinB or not. Not that SinB hadn’t fantasized about that; confounding Yerin, letting Yerin jill off to the sight of a girl just for looking like her, maybe saying something like “Yerin is my bias” and hearing her scream in orgasm, meeting for breakfast the next day and acting like nothing happened while Yerin couldn’t help but hump a pillo—

“I don’t give a shit, Yerin! Just… let me do my fucking thing and I’ll let you do yours!”

She couldn’t hang up fast enough. She heard Yerin’s giggles, and spiked her phone to the rug. Despite her rage, she continued her systems check.

Extra face camera: in position to alert her if she dipped too far down.

Voice modulator: set to slightly higher pitch and minor distortion.

In-ear: functional.

Mood lighting: perfect.

Background tunes: sexy.

Phone: still silent but blinking…

SinB slammed the phone’s screen. Yerin’s text was equally as infuriating as her call. So, if my FUCKING thing happens to be watching your show…

Conceding victory to Yerin was not an option. She texted back immediately. how bout you dont watch SHIT you whore

Mmm. I bet I can get Eunha to make you call me that in person while you sit on my face. Please call me a whore in person. I want it sooo bad!

SinB tried to come up with a threatening response, but before she could type it up, another text from Yerin came through.

Oh wow. I don’t know why I didn’t think to invite Eunha to watch this camgirl with me. I bet she’d love her.

SinB’s eyes flicked back and forth between the time and the steadily blinking text cursor at the top of her phone’s keyboard. It was nearly time for the show to start. Not that she really cared about punctuality, but there were people already in the chat expressing their adoration for GeeBeeSeeBee. She sent more texts, hoping it would get her point across, spray-and-pray style.

fuck you

bitch

i will fucking murder you jung

i will sit your goddam throat

slit*

nobody

will find

your corsp

She flung her phone out of sight. She didn’t need the kind of negativity Yerin was putting on her. Show nights were special. SinB could admit that she loved being desired despite her anonymity, but admitting that she loved all of the sex acts Eunha had been putting her through for months was out of the question. Even more out of the question was admitting that she really, really, really wished that Yerin would participate in them—

“FUCK YOU, YERIN!” SinB screamed so hard it hurt her throat. The other members, including Yerin, weren’t in the dorm, but she hoped Yerin could hear it echoing through the aether.

A few deep breaths did a decent job at calming her down. She still fully intended to go through with her show, so with one minute remaining until her scheduled start time, she scanned the chat. There were already twenty-three viewers watching the music visualization with her screen name printed over it. Nearly all of those would be her regulars. Either they were notified by email or app, or they had her schedule memorized. The newbies and the randos would come later.

The messages zipping past at breakneck speed warmed her heart in the weirdest way, especially the ones from her regulars, or “lovers,” as she liked to call her little personal perverted fanclub. Bro I got the dono money toniiite!; face revel today i can feel it; hell yes! you are the best; thicc thicc thicc thicc THIIICCCCC THIGHS; No guys, GBSB is the best. But yes, you’re still a legend.; think she’ll show her feet again?; Full nude show beginning to end! Save your donos for the action!; action all the way; lul the feet thing was from some random rich ass donor dont count on it; already jerking off omggggg; gonna be hawt af; I hope her internet doesn’t crash again; What? She’s not that thicc. But I would die in her thighs, yes.

SinB looked down at her thighs. They were very slightly thicker than normal. She hadn’t restarted her workouts. She smiled and pinched her own leg. If her lovers were into a tiny little bit of chub, she was happy to provide it.

She clicked the countdown button on CamDream’s streamer page. The yellow indicator light flashed once, twice, three times. The green one joined it for another one, two, three flashes. Finally, the green flashed on its own. SinB struck a pose, going full pinup girl mode. One hand on the small of her back to create the illusion of a deeper arch, the other sweeping her cardigan back and pinching back her tank top to make her still-toned figure more obvious. She even pursed her lips for an air kiss at the face cam. Not that anyone would see it but her.

Three…

Two…

One…

Showtime.

“Hellooo lovers,” SinB said with perfect timing and all the charisma she cared to glean out of her veteran idol career.

It was time for them to get off on her body. She’d get off on that. They’d get off on her getting off, and she’d get off on that. It was the kind of cycle that, in SinB’s experience, would get really, really, really vicious.

The already-speedy chat window went supersonic as viewers swarmed in and SinB turned herself side to side. Her stiletto’d heels pressed into the backs of her thighs in turn. She leaned forward, letting the bra do what pushup work it could to give her any amount of cleavage. Her pitch black hair was just getting long enough again to tickle her shoulders. With the elation she felt at seeing her lovers losing their shit, begging her for more, that tickle turned into a whole shiver. Goosebumps spread over her entire body, too small for the camera to pick up on.

“Boys. And. Girls! Are you excited tonight?!” SinB was feeling giddy. Show night never failed to make her forget all her troubles.

As much as she loved seeing all of the blatantly horny messages from randos, she knew the chat was moving too fast for her to be able to read anything from anyone who mattered. She slipped a hand out of sight of the camera and tapped in the keyboard shortcut for slow chat mode. It didn’t prevent anyone from posting. It simply superimposed messages from a preselected list of users, or with attached donations, over the top of everybody else’s.

“I know I’m excited! I even got all dressed up for you, lovers. See?” SinB backed away from the camera and, still on her knees, modeled her effective lack of “dressed up.”

She bit her lower lip at the sight of herself on the preview monitor. Her skirt didn’t fully cover her goods at this angle. Her labia, split down the center by her minuscule thong, were visible on screen, and not even in a subtle way. SinB looked like the trashiest fantasy slut, absolutely whorish, and behind her anonymous veil, she was completely in lust with herself.

SinB turned around, propping one leg up on her heel while the other stayed down. She spread her ass with one hand, briefly admiring the way her hot pink nail polish looked digging into the flesh of her butt cheek. Even more than the front, the back of the thong was practically nothing. Thanks to her dancer’s flexibility, she was free to admire the rim of her asshole on the monitor.

“Oh no!” SinB squealed in a mockish falsetto. “I think my juicy ass ate most of the fabric!”

The chat rapidly filled with “lol”s and peach emoji.

“Thank fuck someone gets my humor,” SinB said before closing her legs and plopping back to her knees in front of the camera.

A couple of smaller private chat windows popped up to the side. akibangerooni said, Damn gurl! I have a dono here to make you undress for the whole night but thats hot as shit! Should I wait? and jinnielikestitties asked, How much tonight baby?

SinB was a well-oiled machine when it came to interacting with fans. She responded to jinnielikestitties in the private chat, fingers flying across her keyboard, for you honey just 500 while out loud, she hummed. “I don’t know, aki. It sounds like you’re going to be everybody’s big hero for the night, so you get to choose.”

Almost instantly, the sound clip indicating a massive donation blasted through the computer speakers. In the main chat, akibangerooni sent an animated emote of GeeBeeSeeBee flashing her gold star nipple pasties at the camera. It was accompanied by a glowing notification of the donation.

It wasn’t that SinB needed the money. She just wanted to avoid setting an expectation that models were working on CamDream for free. In fact, she most often ended her show nights by going into incognito mode and re-donating her earnings for the night to any other models she found herself attracted to. She liked watching their reactions to the big numbers.

“Five thousand spades?! Did you see that everybody? This fuckin perv aki wants me naked!”

Pulling the important chat window to the side to see the other one, SinB smirked at the enormous wave of randos exclaiming their horniness into oblivion. There were a couple hundred of them now. The things they said would earn them a set of swift kicks in real life, but in the GeeBeeSeeBee chat they were not only welcome but enthusiastically encouraged.

SinB didn’t really bother reading the reactions in either chat. She knew what they were saying. And having chatted with akibangerooni on numerous occasions, she knew what the answer to her next question would be. But still, she wanted to ask, and see his direct feedback.

“So aki, you gross, filthy boy. Do you want a sexy little strip tease, or do you want me naked as fast as I can get naked?”

The private donation for five hundred spades came in from jinnielikestitties, and SinB opened up a view for her webcam on monitor three. Jinnie was a chubby girl with exceptionally cute eyes that made SinB want to cream instantly. She also liked to play with her hefty tits while SinB passively watched. She was just the first of a dozen or so cams that SinB would have simultaneously open by the end of the night. SinB didn’t say anything out loud to avoid embarrassing her, but gave her a subtle thumbs up and watched for her to do the same.

“No strip tease?! Nakey nakey tits and bakey it is then! You dirty beast.”

A few more minor donations came in while SinB practically ripped her way out of her clothes. Ten spades a piece, good for one light spank each. They were so commonplace that she never even acknowledged them out loud.

SinB’s skin crawled in the most wonderful way as she sat back down. The viewer count had already jumped to three hundred and thirty-eight. Every one of those eyes, intent on drinking in every bare inch of her. Those ears, eagerly awaiting her pleasured moans. Hands on more than three hundred cocks or pussies in her honor. SinB recalled an interview in which someone had implied that idols got a sort of high off of a crowd. The implication wasn’t wrong. It was a rush. The kind of rush that soaked SinB’s panties—or lack thereof—and demanded that she fill her pussy with something. But she still had a donor to please.

“Sorry aki,” she said, “These shoes weren’t made for quick extraction, ya know?” Of course, the crowd could entertain themselves with her jiggling, perky tits while she struggled. She still had a buckle and half a dozen straps to get through on each shoe.

Halfway through the first shoe, SinB was interrupted by another large donation. It was another of her lovers, CertifiedCoomerboy. Two thousand spades. The regulars were dumping their wallets. The message was public, and was already getting positive feedback: hey can you plz show us your feet while you do that?

SinB’s first instinct was to do what he asked. She leaned back and started to lift her knee, but she paused to curse Yerin out in her head for almost definitely being the one to incept the foot fetish into her lover’s mind two weeks earlier. She wondered if it had been incepted into hers too. She had opted for a pedicure earlier in the day and had thoroughly enjoyed it. If she’d let her mind wander, the foot massage might have made SinB put her hand down her pant—

“Yeah! Yup! Sure can! Just let me, uh…”

After a bit of experimentation with the angle in the camera, SinB propped one leg up on the opposite knee. With the shoe removed, she wiggled her toes inches away from the camera. Her toenail polish was pink, like on her fingers, but darker. Yerin had suggested the color.

SinB smacked her forehead. She shouldn't have let Yerin go with her. Now it was going to be obvious. But of course, Yerin had figured her out already.

"I got a pedicure today, so you fuckin better appreciate this, CCB!"

Another message with a smaller donation came up from him. yes mistress gbsb! I love your toes so much

"Then you shouldn't be typing. You should have both hands on your cock. Imagine it between my feet." SinB didn’t know where her ranting was coming from. "My, uh… soles squeezing down on either side. Stare at my toes until your mind goes numb, because I had them painted up all pretty just for you, lovers."

She stared at herself in the preview cam, wondering if that was taking it too far. With a shake of her head, she shifted to the other foot, angling it similarly to the first and slowly removing the straps. She knew she should go faster, per akibangerooni's request, but she suddenly wanted to see the reaction to her foot play. Surely he'd understand.

More ten spade donations. She kept a tally in her head. Viewer count was nearly four hundred.

"What are your thoughts on my heels? Like, mine, not the shoes."

All positive messages from her regulars. Except for BiggusDickus. He was normally so enthusiastic. She couldn’t imagine why he wasn't online, same as the last show. Strange. Maybe he had work.

Finally, SinB flicked her shoe off. "Hmmm. I haven't thought about foot stuff with all my girlies yet. What would I do? Rub their pussies with the pads of my feet? My shoe size may be small but I don't know if I can get these inside anyone."

A groan played in her in-ear. Jinnie was pinching her nipples. SinB grinned and was about to comment when a third private chat window appeared with a truly obscene donation of twenty thousand spades. It was from HyperSlut_GodHo. That bitch Yerin. Wooow SinB. Since when did you start liking your feet? Want me to play with you? Your feet are super cyoooot!

For the first time ever, SinB ignored a private donation.

"Enough of this, lovers! I have a story for you tonight! Before I get started…" she trailed off and got back up to her knees, facing away. She gave herself a slap on the ass. Hardly a real smack, but enough to ripple her butt cutely. "Let's see… that's one. Two. Three." It wasn't even remotely painful, even after working her way through all sixteen miniature donations.

She got another, public this time, from jinnielikestitties. It didn’t require a message, as three hundred thirty-three spades was on her donation guide, listed as "one hand nipple play."

"Thank you, Jinnie baby," is all she had to say to get another groan.

SinB leaned against the back of her set, legs spread wide, but she refused herself the pleasure of touching her clit. She had to wait. Let the crowd control her. The thrill started to build again. "Where to start? I got fucked so good two days ago."

Something SinB was willing to admit to was that she didn't actually like having her nipples played with. They were sensitive, and her partners tended to pay too much attention to them. But a request from a lover was law. She started on the right side, lightly pinching and twisting. She winced, but still moaned like a whore for the audience. Of course, she liked that her nipples were appreciated. They were incredibly cute and tiny. SinB preferred ones that looked more like Jinnie's, though, broad and deliciously dark.

"It was unplanned. We were in a mall. She was helping me pick out a new umbrella, of all things, when I realized that… God, I was just sooo fucking horny."

More small-scale donations. More viewers. SinB lifted her legs, putting her ass in view without blocking line of sight to her right boob. She spanked herself seven times and continued her mostly accurate story. “So I dragged her into a dressing room in the Second Ring shop, pushed her against the wall, and pulled down her pants.”

Another pop-up chat. Another regular asking for their camera to be turned on. Another donation made. Another camera feed opened. He was a scrawny guy with a shockingly large dick and sharp jawline. SinB gave him the thumbs up, and he returned it. A quiet moan came through from Jinnie. “Oh yes…” The night’s worldwide circle jerk was beginning with SinB at its center.

“I’ve told you about this girl before too, last month. She’s a futa, with a dick the size of my whole damn arm.”

Another camera open. SinB didn’t recognize this man. She almost giggled at his muscles overcompensating for his small penis. But he was doing his part to add to her fantasy, which is all he needed to do.

“Good thing for her I’ve been practicing my dick sucking technique.”

A sixty-seven spade donation message appeared from a new person. They visited for the first time during her last show. SinB was glad they came back after that. Sixty-seven spades was listed as 1-min funny talk (specify), and the message said pant like a bitch.

“Uuungh,” SinB moaned, interspersing long, exaggerated breaths every few words, “I slicked her up with, uuugh, my tongue as best as I could, uuugh, but she was just so big! Mmmf!” Even if they were fake, her own moans were getting her even deeper in the mood.

SinB described the blowjob in more and more detail, sometimes repeating aspects of it in greater, lewder detail. Hums of pleasure became “slutty gags,” while a tiny bit of precum became “gallons of jizz.” Of course, the entire time she avoided the most accurate version of the truth, which was that she gave Eunseo the shortest, most timid, and most nerve-wracking blowjob of all time in the least-populated, least-staffed store they could find, and Eunseo didn’t cum.

Wow. This sounds pretty over the top for you, Sin. I would love to watch you blow someone like that. The HyperSlut_GodHo private chat forced its way to the front every time a new message from her came through. The only way to stop it would be to ban Yerin from the chat. But SinB couldn’t bring herself to do it. Banning a friend would be a dick move, even if they were watching her masturbate as part of a crowd of nearly a thousand.

Eight cameras were open on monitor three by the time SinB finished her smutty story. Some absolute saint that SinB wasn’t familiar with paid for a “finisher” near the end, meaning SinB got to grab the bullet vibrator, tape it to her clit, and turn it on the highest setting until she came. And she was close. Watching eight people stroke or pump themselves off to her, some of them even having cum already, holding their cum-drenched hands up for her to see in full view, was driving SinB mad. She struggled to keep an eye open as her climax built, sucked her own fingers, spread her pussy, planted her feet firmly in the rug’s fluff. It was coming. The best part of every show night. She was coming. The only thing that could stop it would be…

HyperSlut_GodHo’s donation of exactly six hundred sixty-six thousand, six hundred and sixty-six spades.

The vibrator shut off unceremoniously. It was just plain off. Some guy in one of the camera windows actually said “What” as if that wasn’t the only word on SinB’s mind. She screamed it too, seconds later, “WHAT?!”

Nobody had ever stopped a “finisher” before. Sure, they could request smaller denials, like “stop fingering” or “pinch your thigh” but SinB had specifically made the “finisher denial” prohibitively expensive. It wasn’t just “dang, that’s a lot” kind of money required for that many spades. It was the kind of money that could change the lives of the grand majority of models on CamDream or any other similar website. The ridiculous, life-altering cost was meant to ensure that nobody would ever try to interrupt one of SinB’s ridiculous, mind-altering orgasms. She wanted a jelly brain! Why wasn’t her brain jelly?!

The main chat was dead. The cams were silent. Even the background chat of horny non-contributors was moving significantly more slowly. After a moment, Jinnie started to speak, her voice electrified by her poor-quality microphone, “D-did the battery go o—”

Jinnie was interrupted by a blast of noise. A loud, low, seductive woman’s giggle. Every model on CamDream hoped to hear that laugh a few times a year, but often only heard it once or twice in their career. “Lilith’s Cheer,” or so it was called, was just one of the many sounds that played for donations. In this case, for donations larger than fifty thousand spades. But for how much Yerin paid, the sound should have been a reading of HyperSlut_GodHo’s public message. Sorry! No cummies for you yet!

SinB screamed incoherently, torn between screaming about not cumming and just finishing herself off, and screaming about the money. It was all still a performance. Models didn’t get on CamDream for nothing. She struggled to find words. Something that would put Yerin in her place without giving everything away.

“Ff-- Th-thank you!” She failed. Her head, entirely deprived of orgasm, swam with rage. But she couldn’t stop. “Thank… Thank you so m-much! Oh god, that’s… so much. Th-thank you, H-HyperSlut! Thank you, thank you, thank y-you!”

She grabbed her keyboard. Her mind was only partially jelly, but her fingers felt weak, so her typing was slow and mostly utilized the muscles of her forearms. She navigated to HyperSlut_GodHo’s private chat and smashed the worst, most capitalized profanities and insults she could hazily imagine into the poor, helpless keys. FUCK. YOU; STUPI CUNT; GET BAK HRRE nOW; ILL RIP YU A NEW TWATS; YOU WANA DIE ThAT BADHUH; UR SPINE WILL B MY DILDO

And yet, her mouth continued to pour out the gratitude like a bitter wine. It’s what any normal person would do when given approximately two years’ salary all at once. “Thank you so fucking much! I ca-- I can’t believe it. Thank you!” SinB wondered if she was going to develop a complex from the thankful, angry, horny trichotomy.

Meanwhile, the chats were back up and running at full speed. Everybody was understandably—frustratingly—expressing thanks and admiration to HyperSlut_GodHo. Even the virtually-present audience of webcammers were wiping jizz and lube off their hands to type big props to GeeBeeSeeBee’s new, most generous patron. Yerin ignored SinB’s messages to respond to the main chat with humility, spouting some shit about just trying to do her part for her favorite model, pseudo-lying about how she’d actually been watching for years.

After grumbling some of the anger out of her system, SinB attempted to move on. “Wow, that sure is amazing. Gosh… I don’t know what to do. Guess we should, um, continue with the cum show, hm?”

Some woman with her webcam on had the gall to laugh. But SinB realized she was just enjoying the performance in her own way. She gushed a little, and mentally begged for a humiliation kink to not become part of that new complex. Or a begging kink, for that matter. Shit.

“I-I mean, uh… should we let Ye-- HyperSlut control the sh-show... for the rest of the night?”

There were a couple of dissenters in the chat, but not nearly as many as SinB had hoped for. ya! i think she deserves; if she wants more feet I think so yes; Hell ye bro! I thought I was dono god but its her now!; noone gonna ? wer all the $ is from; cool with me; By all means.; lets do it"

SinB scowled. It's what her lovers wanted, her compliance could still be justified.

"Okay, but HyperSlut, if any more of my lovers donate, I may have to interrupt to do what they want."

Affirmations of love and appreciations of sluttiness scrolled by, along with one message from HyperSlut_GodHo. No pressure if the answer is no, but is there any chance you have a way to cover your face so you can get closer to the camera?

“Uhhh.” SinB’s eyes drifted over to her pile of sex toys. Normally she would say no, but as long as the option was available, she might as well agree. Of fucking course she would Chekhov herself.

“Um, yeah. I do. Give me a sec.”

The mask felt heavy in her hands, like it was full of impending regrets, scandals, and at least one ended career. But she had effectively two years of wages available to cash in from spades now if all went poorly, so she figured it would all be worth at least one incredible orgasm. The mask felt much lighter once it was secured around her cheeks. Obviously, regrets, scandals, and careers were technically abstract concepts with no physical weight to them.

SinB checked herself out in her face cam first, verifying that every angle she could manage to see herself in wouldn’t show enough of her face to reveal her identity. It was strange how such a simple covering was such an efficient disguise. She barely recognized herself.

“Okay, lovers. You all better f-fucking compliment my lipstick.”

It was like the start of a new show. Every person on monitor three was leaning toward their screen, already masturbating furiously. SinB’s heart raced. They were all so excited. That made SinB excited. There went the cycle again. She didn’t even have the patience to count down from three.

Showtime!

[TO BE CONTINUED]

[ilytyun]

how does txt text? (v realistic and accurate)

txt as gen z boys you started texting over quarantine😔💔

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for so long... it’s literally so bad but i thought i was kind of funny  LOLLL💀💀 it’s not like what i usually write but hope it’s at least a bit enjoyable !! (also tysm for 100+ followers !!!!!!! teehee<333333)

warnings: some swearing, overuse of emojis, dated trends bc i wrote this three months ago LOL

yeonjun:

honestly ??? seems like a dry texter ... doesn’t reread his texts so sometimes they come out confusing even though he keeps spell check on, also never sends a text with more than ten words

lowkey dad texter if you’re not having an actual conversation ... lots of ‘k’, ‘thx’, ‘👍’, ‘idc/k’ and ‘lol’ ... also uses 💯, 😂 and ❤️ unironically 😔😔😔

also ‘???’

NOTORIOUS FOR BEING THAT GUY WHO JUST SAYS ‘hey’ WHEN YOU HAVENT TALKED IN LIKE TWO DAYS LMAO

you can never read how he’s feeling over text but sometimes he’ll sprinkle in a :) or a ;)) just to keep you on your toes

either no punctuation at all or an unnecessary overuse of punctuation ... if there is punctuation it?s , bad punctuation . ???????!!??~~~~ which is how most of his texts transfer emotions i guess ?? lol

he’s only like this because he genuinely sees texting as a quick last resort type of communication...

if you want to talk with him just give him a call... he prefers to hear your voice anyways🥺

soobin:

standard gen z texter, has good spelling, keeps his letters all lowercase for no reason other than because he thinks it looks nice ?? turns caps lock on for when he feels scandalized

texts like a bisexual......... u know with a ‘ !!’ or ‘ ??’ at the end...(the space between the last word and the punctuation is the most important part), uses a lot of ~~~~~ and ;;;;;;; and ^^ or >< too because he doesn’t want to sound monotone

‘lololol’ and ‘lolllllllllllll’.... also maybe ‘haha yeah’

super inconsistent when it comes to replying rip... like you’ll be able to hold a really good conversation for at most an hour and then he’ll leave you on delivered until the next day when he continues the conversation like nothing happened

only double texts when he needs to !! is a good boy and sends one longish text rather than a lot of short texts at once; good at paraphrasing, understands that not everyone views texting as a tool for conversation

looks like he’d be pretty good at using emojis, probably hip enough to use 😭😭😭 as a laughing emoji, also keyboard smashes

frequent user of this emoji as well: 😰

probably gets really lazy sometimes too so he ends up sending you a lot of voice memos

just overall extremely chaotic neutral

beomgyu:

seems the most normal/trendy texter imo😭

really great at using emojis... his best hits include: 😳, ✨, 🥰, 🤗 and 🥺 (ESPECIALLY 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺), also is a frequent user of all the pink heart emojis most notably 💕, texting him is never boring and he does his best to come off nice !! and he can tone down how he texts too... versatile king

definitely calls yeonjun a boomer for using 😂

but he’s also probably on tiktok or smthn A LOT so if you’re close to him he’ll pull the: 👁👄👁, 😀, 🥴, 💀💀💀, 😻, 🤡, 🧍....... used ‘no❤️’ and also ‘🧚✨’ before it got annoying...

the one who sends you very obscure memes he finds off the internet as replies to your texts but they somehow always just work..... sth like those badly edited facebook memes or sth LMAOOOOOO😭😭

his one downfall: will definetly accidentally type out the wrong your/you’re... same with there/they’re/their and no matter how much it annoys you he really could not care less

i lied here’s another downfall: he’s SUPER bad with replying. leaves you on read accidentally a lot and it kinda hurts ngl💀

i lied again here’s one last downfall... even if he’s bad with replying he will not hesitate to text you to get your attention...... he does not give a single shit. if he needs you he’ll text each individual letter of H E L L O, also double texts if he’s excited but you let it slide because he’s cute😔

taehyun:

another good texter but maybe... too good.....

his spelling and grammar are on point... you will never ever catch him slipping. periods at the end of every sentence. him and hyuka are probably the only ones who still use auto capitalization

but something about his texting seems so robotic....... you find yourself honestly wondering if he’s being dry with you or if he’s just being super polite

it’s also definetly because he somehow always finds the perfectly specific emoji to include at the end of his message💀

and they’re always obscure ones too... he used the 🚏 emoji once when he told you he was ‘Waiting for the bus. 🚌🚏 Cannot wait you see you. 🤓’ and it made you go huh...

overall pretty articulate over text but when you’re acting a bit questionable his favourite emoji to use is simply 🤨 he also genuinely believes 🤓 is cute... like ok taehyun

lowkey dry texter so it’s somehow satisfying when he uses exclamation marks... it shows that he’s excited lol

he’s unpredictable and distinct... unique king

huening kai:

texting god.... but wbk

if gyu has bruh girl energy hyuka def has big hii girly! :) energy LMAOOOO

genuinely the sweetest texter, you can hear his voice and feel his energy through his messages🥺

takes the time to use the japanese emojis... (๑╹ω╹๑ ) it’s super duper adorable... some of his favourite emojis are 🤩, 😊, 🕺 and 🙈

but if it’s struggle hours you know he’s going 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

uses coloured heart emojis !! 🧡💛💚💙💛💜

definetly uses uwu and xD unironically but it’s really cute when he does it....

ofc >3< is his signature

uses ‘BAHAHAHAHA’ and ‘Hehehehee’ instead of just lol..... also an avid keyboard smasher esp if you are too (he’s never felt more alive than when using sksksksk was still a trend... emits highkey vsco girl energy on top of his hii girly energy lol)

another kid who overuses punctuation ???? but just to emphasize !!!!! his !!!!!!! point ,,,..,,,!!!!

sends you motivational texts throughout the day... ‘You’ve got this!!!!! (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾ I hope you have a good day today!!!!!!!!!(๑>◡<๑)💛💛💚’

tried to turn off auto capitalization but thought it made him come off as too aloof/impolite so he turned it back on😭😭 doesn’t have a problem when other people don’t use it though !!

[intheticklecloset]

Don’t Hate the Player (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

@kiyachi-tickles​ I know that for a lot of these video game fics people tend to write about Mario Kart, but I’m a SEGA girl, so I decided to switch things up and have the boys play Team Sonic Racing! And, well...Bakugou doesn’t really do well with teamwork, does he? ^^

Hope you enjoy, and thanks for accepting my request, too! I can’t wait to read it! 😁

~

“Nothing’s gonna slow me down!”

“Yeah, Kacchan. Nothing’s going to slow me down!” Deku teased his friend while keeping his eyes on the screen as his character – Silver – raced along the track with ease.

Beside him, Bakugou grumbled. “Yeah, yeah. Just wait, nerd. I’ll catch up.” This was the third grand prix they’d played in this game, having decided beforehand to play through all six of them before even firing up their laptops. Deku had already won the first two, and two races into the third, he was set to win again.

Bakugou’s character – Knuckles – smashed through objects that were in his way and shouted, “Get outta my way!”

“That’s what I’m saying,” the blonde muttered.

Deku couldn’t help but giggle. Playing video games with Kacchan was always interesting, but in this particular case, his losing consistently was just funny to him. It was a racing game – it shouldn’t have been that hard. But more than that, it was a team racing game. And that’s what was making his friend lose so much. Bakugou was nothing if not a lone wolf.

“Why are my teammates so far behind?” he complained as they began the third lap.

“If they’re behind, send them items to help out,” Deku replied, breezing through the level with ease in first place. His teammates were second and third. It was smooth sailing for them.

“Ugh, losers.” Bakugou pressed a key on his keyboard. “Here, take the dang cube. It’s useless anyway.”

Deku bit back yet another giggle as he sailed over the finish line, his teammates right behind him. Several seconds later, Bakugou crossed in sixth place with his teammates in seventh and tenth. When the scores were tallied, Deku grinned across the table at him. “Looks like I’m gonna win this one, too.”

“Shut up. We still have three grand prixs to go, nerd.”

“I know, but even if you win all three of them we’ll be tied in the end.”

“I said shut up!”

As predicted, Deku won the third grand prix. Then he went on to win the fourth as well. At this point, Bakugou was just trying to win a race.

“Move or get run over!” Knuckles shouted at his opponents.

“Yeah, what he said!” Bakugou added, staring at his screen intensely, really getting into it now. He was actually doing pretty well; this track was a bit harder for Deku’s character’s racer type, so he was actually in fourth place while Bakugou was in second. The entire race, the blonde was ahead. Then suddenly – on the last lap – Silver whipped out in front of him and crossed the finish line in first place yet again.

Bakugou whipped his head up to glare at Deku. “What was that?!”

“Team Ultimate, baby!” Deku cried, fist pumping the air. “I win again! Let’s go!”

“Come on, you bunch of losers! I thought Sonic was supposed to be the fastest thing alive! Why’s he so slow?”

With every race that went by that he lost, Bakugou grew more and more frustrated with himself. But at the same time, watching Deku grow increasingly elated with every win and even get cocky about it was fascinating to him. The nerd was never arrogant; that was part of the reason he irritated Bakugou so much. But it seemed with video games, humility went out the window.

Finally the last grand prix rolled around. This time Bakugou was doing really well, keeping up with Deku and giving him and his team a run for their money. His teammates played a lot better; it was as if Sonic had heard him and stepped up his game. When the last race rolled around, it was entirely up to the results of this track who won the grand prix overall.

Deku’s team won by one point.

“One point?!” Bakugou yelled, jumping out of his seat and throwing his hands in the air. “One point? Are you kidding me?”

“Oh, yeah!” Deku cried at the same time, not only jumping out of his seat but beginning to do a victory dance of sorts around the table. “I won! I won every grand prix! All six of them!”

Bakugou stared, watching his rival dance around with all the arrogance that was usually something he himself would show off instead. Frustrated as he was, he begrudgingly let Deku have his moment – until the nerd finished his victory lap around the table and began to take another one.

“That’s it!” Bakugou roared, lunging at the green-haired boy and tackling him to the floor. “You cheated somehow! There’s no way you were that good!”

Deku continued to laugh even as he was pinned to the ground. “Haha! Don’t hate the player, hate the ga-HAME!” He shrieked, suddenly bursting into loud laughter and struggling against his friend. “NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! KACCHAHAHAHAHAN DOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!!”

“This is payback for not only beating me in almost every single race we just played,” Bakugou growled as he drilled relentlessly into Deku’s hips, “but for being so dang cocky about it!”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I’M SORRYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!” Deku cried, laughing openly even as he squirmed and tried to tap out. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“I’m not satisfied yet.” Bakugou grinned and moved to straddle his thighs so he couldn’t kick or roll around anymore. This made Deku even more hysterical than before.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! KACCHAN!!”

“Oh, no. I’m not stopping. You’ll just have to deal with it, Deku.” The atomic blonde smirked and leaned in closer to his rival’s face, knowing perfectly well he was about to be even meaner and not caring in the slightest. “Tickle, tickle, tickle, little nerd.”

For the briefest of moments, Deku’s laughter went silent from the teasing. Then it came back even stronger and more desperate than before. He begged and screamed and laughed, but Bakugou wasn’t letting him off that easy. He kept up his merciless assault on the smaller hero’s hips – yes, he was staying on his worst spot on purpose – and kept up his teasing until Deku was red in the face and crying with laughter.

“Plehehehehehehehehease!” Deku wheezed, his hysterics coming out in breathless gasps at this point. “Stahahahahahahahap, p-plehehease, I c-cahahahahan’t tahahahahahake it anymohohore!”

Finally satisfied that he’d thoroughly wrecked the nerd with tickles, Bakugou stopped, but didn’t climb off of him. Not just yet.

“Since when do you get so high and mighty when you win games?” he demanded.

“S-Sohorry,” Deku replied in a breathless giggle, still catching his breath. “I couldn’t help it. You were just…just so bad at it…I thought it was funny and it made me kind of silly.” He smiled sheepishly. “You just need more practice is all.”

“Oh, spare me.” Bakugou rolled his eyes and finally stood up, letting Deku pull himself back to his feet as well. He closed out the game, shut down his laptop, and tucked it under his arm. “Next time I’m taking you down, nerd.”

“And if I beat you again?” Deku challenged, grinning as he shut down his own laptop. “Are you going to tickle me to death again?”

Bakugou couldn’t help but let out a laugh of his own. “Not to death. I still want to fight you at one-hundred percent. But probably within an inch of your life, yes.”

“Maybe I’ll just…let you win next time.”

“Don’t you dare go easy on me, you little--!”

Deku spent the next several minutes running away from Kacchan and his laptop and his wrath, laughing all the while as his friend shouted threats and curses at him from behind – not unlike the racing game they’d just finished playing.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 11

First

Previous

Next

Person: Lol there’s immortals and they’ve come back to life multiple times, why is anyone surprised magic exists Me, who hasn’t read the comics in years and has forgotten everything: not canon anymore. I’ve decided

~~~

She looked around at the soft browns and reds of the café. The scenery was pleasant, but it had very little overlap with any styles she wanted for any of her customers.

This vague looking around quickly morphed into staring blankly at her sketchbook for almost an hour straight.

Marinette groaned and rested her head on the table, closing her eyes.

“Need more coffee already?” Came Tim’s voice.

She gave a tiny shake of her head. “Need new scenery,” she murmured into her arms.

Somehow, though, Tim heard her. The sound of his fingers on the keyboard stopped for a moment in surprise, and the café almost sounded incomplete without it.

He reached over and ruffled her hair. “Has anyone given you a tour of the city yet?”

“Nope,” she said. She’d gotten a pretty good look at the place on patrols, but he couldn’t know that.

There was a shifting sound and she looked up to find Tim taking out his phone. “What’re you...?”

He put the phone to his ear and tipped his head back as it rang. Eventually, he said: “Hey, I’m going to take the day off.”

There was a long silence from the other line. She winced as the person on the other sound screamed, she hadn’t wanted Tim to get scolded for missing --

“Yes, I’m fine. No, it’s not a prank. I’ve met someone -- not like that, Jay -- and I’m giving her a tour of the city. She just got here from France a while ago.”

The bit of chatter was cut off abruptly by a smashing sound from the phone. Tim didn’t seem all that concerned about it, though, so Marinette just listened in anxiously.

The man’s eyebrows knit together. “Yes, I met her at the coffee shop, Dick. What does it matter?” Then he blinked. His eyes found their way to her for a second and then he gave a short laugh. “You’re insane. Can I have time off or not?”

The chorus of ‘Yes!’ Please!’’s was so loud that Marinette heard it from across the table.

Tim grinned and set his phone down. “Guess who has a free day now.”

Marinette tapped her finger to her chin thoughtfully. “Who knows.” She stood slowly and glanced at their coffees.

He rolled his eyes and got them each another cup. With that, they were off.

“So, I guess I should ask what colors or ideas you have going.”

She sighed. “I’m thinking of green for Adrien. Yellow, black, and white for the Bourgeois-es. And for Jagged...” She waved her hands vaguely as she tried to think of how to translate the word. “A lot-ness.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Flashiness?”

“Sure.”

He closed his eyes and thought for a minute, then nodded to himself. “Right, I have an idea for Adrien’s.” His face reddened slightly. “I probably should have asked if you were willing to come, first, huh?”

Her head tipped to the side as she considered this. She really had only talked to the man a few times, could she really trust him? He’d gotten her coffee a few times without spiking it, which was a plus. He was also very obviously rich, which meant robbing her wouldn’t do much for him.

Her mind wandered back to how he’d dodged a punch the other day, though. His reaction time had been as quick as, if not faster, than hers. He was pretty well built, too. He had to know some kind of self-defense.

Still, he’d taken a day off of work for her. From the sound of the people on the other end of the line, this wasn’t a common occurrence. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and nodded.

He smiled and reached out to ruffle her hair.

Then, they were off.

Within a few blocks was the gardens dedicated to Poison Ivy. They stepped inside and Marinette went to her bag to pay on instinct, but Tim walked straight past the ticket counter and waved her along.

She frowned confusedly. “Don’t we need to pay...?”

“Nope, c’mon,” he chirped.

She glanced at the salesperson, who was a teen boy. He’d barely been awake when they walked in, but now he was wide awake. They had gone bolt upright at the sound of Tim’s voice, and were now stealing glances at the pair of them anxiously.

She slowly stepped towards Tim. Just who was this guy?

These nerves dissipated the moment she stepped into the atrium. She’d seen it from above a few times, but that was nothing compared to the way it was to be within it. Her eyes filcked from flower to flower as a wide smile stretched across her face.

She went to the nearest bench and started sketching for Adrien. Clothing for guys is always easier, they’re always expected to be in a suit, it’s just what you do on the suit that matters.

Tim was leaning in the doorway, absently scrolling through messages. His face was getting more and more tired by the second, but that wasn’t particularly weird for him so Marinette didn’t bother to question it.

Besides, if she didn’t get her ideas down on paper soon, she’d probably forget them.

She finished and kept walking through the rooms, smiling to herself. She’d gotten an idea for Jagged and Penny’s outfits in a room with bioluminescents. Then, after seeing an almost golden flower, had been able to get some inspiration for both Audrey and Chloe’s.

She beamed at all the designs. She was sure to change them over the four months, but it was good that she had general ideas for what she wanted to have them look like early on.

Finally, she looked at Tim. He’d been following her through the rooms at a casual pace, his face stuck in his phone.

She rolled her eyes and pulled the phone down, snapping him from his haze.

“This is your day off, remember? Stop working.”

He sighed. “This is my personal phone. My family is just being stupid.”

She gave him a skeptical look and he finally let go, letting Marinette check for herself.

Her eyes scanned over the messages without really paying attention to what the words meant and she nodded slowly. The tone was far too casual for anything for work.

She had started to hand back the phone when she finally processed some of the words she’d seen.

“’Bring her to dinner’?” She questioned, whipping the phone back around to scroll through them more thoroughly.

He gave little more than a weak shrug. “They think that you’re some kind of miracle since you got me out of work and want you to meet everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“In my family. There’s a lot of them. Don’t worry, you’re booked for at least the next twenty years from what I’ve told them.”

She raised an eyebrow and continued looking through it. “They’re good people?”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I want you to -- hey!”

She had started typing. They sprinted in circles around the tiny atrium, Marinette still struggling to type with all the movement and Tim trying his hardest to catch her off-guard so he could get his phone back.

She hit send. The moment he heard the text tone, he stopped cold. He groaned. “Noooooooo.”

Marinette grinned. “I’ll see you at dinner in two days.”

“Nooooooo.”

“Yeeeees.”

Tim glared at her for a few seconds and swiped back his phone to check that the text she had sent had said that. He pouted a bit when it was, then whipped his head around to look at her, a dangerous look in his eyes: “I’m not paying for your coffee anymore.”

“Nooooooo!”

~~~

Taglist~

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit

[bat-losers-inc]

Song of Cassandra: Chapter 1

Warnings: Family Drama, Family Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Baggage, and Child Neglect

Summary: What is Batman without a Robin? Everyone in the family makes jokes about the ‘dead robins club’, but Dick and Jason really do have measures set in place for the day Bruce loses sight of what’s really important. They won’t let Bruce sacrifice another Robin for the cause, even if that means separating Robin from Batman for good.

Pairings: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, and Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

                              _____________________________________

“To select a victim, to adorn it, and to drive it towards the enemies to be killed by them in time of crisis - such is the ancient rite of substitution.” — The War That Killed Achilles by Caroline Alexander

The bone-saw pinwheeled through the air and smashed into the stone facade beside them. The event wouldn’t have been nearly so noteworthy if Dick hadn’t just yanked Damian out of its path only a second ago.

“Hey, Robin,” Jason called, “get your head in the game before you lose it completely!”

In front of them, Red Hood had swapped out his dual guns for a set of brass knuckles. All around him the Dollotrons and their improvised weapons fell to the ground.

Not helping, Jason.

Robin’s domino mask hid multitudes behind its whiteout lenses. Dick read what he could from the pinched lines of Damian’s mouth and the taut muscles in his neck which trembled through each unsteady swallow. He could feel the effort it was taking him to reign it in.

“Robin, you good?” He placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder and tried to draw his attention back from wherever his mind had just drifted off to. It wasn’t the first time that he’d asked that question tonight and he doubted that it would be the last.

“Fine,” Damian replied but jerked free of his grip with a suddenness that could only mean his pride had been bruised.

Damian snatched the fallen bone-saw up off the pavement and hurled it back into the mass of flailing limbs where it sliced deep into a Dollotron’s shoulder and sent the man staggering.

“Incapacitate only, Robin!” Batman’s voice boomed over the noise of the brawl unfolding before them.

The hope was that they could save at least a few of Professor Pyg’s failed creations if they got them prompt medical attention. Robin, however, had been one-step behind the entire evening—breaking with their predetermined strategies and acting on reflex more than anything. Dick could only chalk so much up to rustiness from being out of the field.

As Robin ducked back into the fray, he had no choice but to follow him in the hopes of preventing further bloodshed. It was going to be a long night.

Back in the cave, he watched Damian unbuckle the utility belt from his waist, his uniform glowing brightly in the cave’s dim interior. His movements were calm, but the distracted look in his eyes betrayed him outright. It was much too soon for him to be back in the field after his death at the hands of the Heretic and subsequent resurrection and it showed on patrol this evening.

Dare he say it, but tonight Robin was... sloppy. And didn’t that just make it worse, he thought to himself, remembering Jason’s muttered comment earlier that night, you can’t blame Damian, the last thing he wants to do is disappoint his father.

Well, what the hell was a kid supposed to do when Batman was your father?  

Dick’s gaze cut to Bruce at the Batcomputer, oblivious to everything except finishing up his report of the night’s mission. He wanted to chuck an escrima stick at his stupid pointy head. But no matter how satisfying that would feel in the moment, it wouldn’t be productive. So instead Dick did the adult thing and waited impatiently for Damian and Tim to change out of their gear and head to their respective beds to sleep away the rest of the dark hours.

When they were alone with nothing but the clicking of keyboard keys to fill the silence, Dick cast a final confirmative glance Jason’s way. Jason raised his arm and tapped at the imaginary watch on his wrist.  

It was now or never. “Bruce, can we talk for a sec?”

Bruce turned in his chair and faced him. “About what?”

He took a breath and forced the words out before his confidence failed him. “I don’t think Damian should be back in the field.”

Bruce held up his hands, his expression transforming from mild to exhausted in a fraction of a second.  “Dick, no. We’ve discussed this. I’m not having this conversation again.”

Again, he said, like he’d ever really taken the time to listen to him the first time around.

“You agreed to give him time! We only just got him back and already you’re putting him back in the line of fire?”

He’d thought that would have been the last thing that Bruce would have done. They’d all witnessed how Damian’s death had driven Bruce to the edge, Jason especially. It had taken hours of persistence to get Jason to even agree to come here, let alone stand with him on this, after the stunt Bruce had pulled in Ethiopia.

Bruce sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose tightly. “I’m not putting him anywhere. I put the decision up to Damian and he told me he felt ready to put the uniform back on.”

Those walls that Damian had started to lower during their time working together were back up now that his father was around, but not before the damage had already been done. Dick had glimpsed the vulnerable side of Damian that just wanted to prove his worth. He couldn’t stand by and watch the kid get hurt, even if he had to step on Bruce’s toes to do it.

Jason pushed off the clothing lockers that he’d been leaning against for the past ten minutes and walked up behind Dick’s shoulder. “You sure he really meant that? Or was he just saying what he thought you wanted to hear?”

Bruce’s face was quickly losing its composure. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, he was raised knowing he was the son of Talia al Ghul and Batman. Not Bruce Wayne— Batman. He might not think he has a choice in putting on the cape unless someone tells him otherwise.”

“And you think I didn’t?” snapped Bruce. As quick as that anger appeared, it was snuffed out just as fast and replaced with a measured response. “Robin is the one thing that gives Damian purpose. I won’t take that away from him.”

“Can you honestly say that his actions tonight didn’t worry you?” asked Jason. “He can take down Dollotrons with his eyes closed, but tonight he was distracted almost to the point of defenselessness. If we didn’t tag along and babysit him the entire patrol he might have ended up in the med bay or worse.”

“I think it’s understandable that he’s having some trouble adjusting.”

Adjusting, Dick wanted to scream. Did you see the look on your kid’s face out there? He’s not adjusting to anything.

Jason sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “C’mon, B. You know I don’t stick my nose in things unless they’re serious. This is serious. We’re worried about him.”

Bruce glanced between them, eyeing them both critically. “Think back to when you both were Robin. Would you have appreciated someone coming in and telling me to bench you because they thought you weren’t ready for the role? Without even taking into consideration how you might feel about the matter.”

“We aren’t saying that—” said Dick.

“Are you sure? Because it seems like you only just made this mistake with Tim.

The comment hit Dick like a slap to the face. “That was an entirely different situation—”

“You took Robin away from Tim when you thought he wasn’t in a position to handle the job anymore and gave it to Damian. Now you’re trying to take it away from Damian.”

“Robin was my mantle,” Dick said slowly, an anger months in the making rising in him. “I created it and I’m so sick of you telling me what bearing that name means or who that uniform gets passed down to like I don’t have any say in it! Especially with Damian. When you ‘died’ you left him with nothing. He was your blood son but you never bothered to give him a place in this family beyond that. So you want to talk about Damian’s place and his purpose ? Well, I gave those to him, not you.”

He thought you were going to be the one to take Robin away from him. He was so scared that his place in your legacy would be erased the moment you returned, despite all the work he had put in to change his nature.

Bruce was in his chair one second and standing over Dick in the next. “Despite what you might still believe, you’re no longer his guardian nor are you his mentor. You gave up the right to parent my child when I came back from the dead. I’m Batman and it’s time for you to go back to being Nightwing. Understood?”

Go back to not having a say, you mean, Dick thought to himself, remembering a time when all he wanted to do was go back to being Nightwing—to not have to make the hard choices. But not anymore. He’d been Batman and had a Robin of his own and those protective instincts don’t just magically turn off with a snap of the fingers.  

Sometimes I feel the need to protect him, even from you.

“I said is that clear?” Over four years since he’d worn the uniform and taken orders from Batman, but Dick’s body still jumped to attention like it did when he was Robin. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that even Jason wasn’t immune to that tone of voice.

He absolutely hated it.

“Crystal.”

Bruce’s cape whipped him in the legs on his way out.

“C’mon, get changed,” Jason placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded his head towards the exit, “I’ll buy you a drink.”

It would take more than a year for him to realize he should have tried harder.

                              _____________________________________

By the time Jason shoved into his apartment and kicked the door shut behind him, it was two hours short of daybreak. He jerked to a halt when he caught sight of him sitting in his living room, and clutched his apartment keys in one limp fist.

“Hey,” he said, voice a rough croak.

Dick stood up to greet him. “Sorry. I didn’t think to text you and I had a key—”

He paused when he caught sight of Jason’s face illuminated under the overhead lights. “What happened to you? I thought you went to talk to Steph.”

“I did,” Jason dropped his keys in the bowl by the front door. “Or at least I tried to. She was more interested in hitting something than having a heart to heart.”

It was too soon after Tim’s funeral for Stephanie to be back in the field. Even, Kate had suggested that Bruce intervene before someone got hurt on the job. Dick had wanted to laugh at her choice of phrase. Hurt? Didn’t she realize that the reason they were in this situation in the first place was because the stakes had risen way past that already?

Still, they all knew it was no good to try to force yourself back into the vigilante lifestyle before you were ready. Damian had proven that only a year or so ago and Gotham’s citizens had borne the brunt of his mistake. So Bruce had tried to step in, but it felt like all he’d really succeeded in doing was pouring salt into the gaping wound that Tim’s death had rent into their little family of heroes.

I’m so sick of you pretending like you care. Dick remembered the way Steph had flung those words at Bruce just hours ago. You only care when people can forgive you. Because all you really care about is continuing your stupid fucking mission!  

Dick could already make out the puffy bruised skin that circled his right eye and colored his cheekbone a dark purple. “Right, so the obvious conclusion was to offer up yourself as her human punching bag.”

“Better me than Bruce.”

Just the idea of it made him sad. Jason and his stupid martyr complex. The kicked-puppy of the family. “I disagree.”

There was an image that Dick couldn’t get out of his head. It lurked in the back of his mind, even now. Steph’s features pulled tight from anger and grief, her icy eyes staring holes into Bruce as she spat out, You keep pretending to care about me to what? Absolve you for what happened to Tim? Well, I don’t, Batman. I don’t absolve you!  

No, it should have been Bruce that bore the brunt of her violence. Bruce who sported a fractured cheekbone for the following week, a consistent reminder of his failings. Not his little brother who had warned them all time and time again about Bruce’s bad habits and all of the endless justifications he had to explain them away. Not Jason, who’d said Bruce shouldn’t be allowed to have sidekicks if he couldn’t keep them alive into adulthood—that if he wanted to fight crime so bad, let him, but keep the kids out of it.

Jason winced as he fingered the delicate skin around his eye. “We both know from past experience how unsatisfying it feels to go after him. It’s like punching a brick wall—he doesn’t give anything and it just ends up hurting you more in the long run.”

He knew Jason was right, but that still didn’t make it fair.  

Jason went to the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen green beans which he pressed to his face with a relieved sigh. “What are you doing here, Dick?”

Jason never was one for small talk.

Dick stared at the bookshelf in the corner of Jason’s living, the titles on the spines were illegible to him all of a sudden like he was viewing them from a great distance. “Tim’s dead.”

“Yeah, I know. Alfred called me after it happened, same as you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” Dick shook his head. “He was supposed to hang up the cape and go to college with Steph. I thought he was going to make it, but instead, he sacrificed himself on that rooftop for Bruce’s endless goddamn crusade.”

“Careful, Golden Boy. You’re sounding a little blasphemous there.”

“Good,” snapped Dick. “because I’m fucking angry. Angry that Bruce seems content to maintain the status quo while my siblings get blown up and stabbed and tortured.”

“You’re also grieving,” said Jason. “Which might explain why you’re slumming it around my place instead of spending time with Babs. When you work your way up to the bargaining stage I suggest trying Damian because I’m not helping you find a lazarus pit.”

“Fuck you,” he replied, but he couldn’t force any heat into the words. Not when his chest constricted again with that tight pain that stabbed at his lungs. He couldn’t stop the tears that pooled at the corners of his eyes and spilled over.

When he glanced up at Jason, the other boy was nothing but a watery figure standing out against the dark room. “Those missiles incinerated Tim into a pile of ash. There’s no body left for us to try to bring back this time.”

Jason squeezed his eyes shut tight like something was paining him. He didn’t go to Tim’s funeral, Dick remembered and wondered which stage of the grieving process he was on: denial or acceptance. Either way, it was clear that even he was having trouble hiding it behind that cock-sure snarky mask of his.

Jason shook his head slightly. “I think you should leave.”

“What?” Dick wiped furiously at his eyes. “Why?”

“Because I can’t tell you what you came over here to hear.”

“And what’s that?”

“That everything’s gonna be alright. That Bruce is gonna change his ways.” Jason shrugged and tossed the bag of beans on the counter. “He might change a bit… adapt like he’s done in the past. But it won’t happen fast enough to stop another Robin from dying on the job.”

“You don’t know that.” Dick wanted to punch him for how cruelly and casually he said it.

“Don’t I?” Jason grabbed his Red Hood helmet up from where it rested on the kitchen counter and flung it at Dick’s chest like it was all the evidence he needed in the world. It was. “Just because you want someone to change, doesn’t mean they will.”

“Go to him with me. If we talk to him together we can make him listen—”

“The same way he listened to us before, with Damian? Like how he listened to Steph tonight? She yelled the harsh truth right in his face, even gave him an ultimatum. And she failed, just like you did, because the truth is that he doesn’t want to hear it.”

“We just have to try harder this time—”  

“Dick… please leave. I can’t do this with you right now and I won’t lie to you just to make you feel better.”

Dick threw Jason’s helmet onto the nearest piece of furniture. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that? I’m standing here trying to tell you that I need your help and you can’t even bring yourself to listen to me.”

“That’s because I’ve already learned this lesson. Just like Steph did tonight. And it’s a really simple one at that … if you love someone, you do what’s best for them even if it’s the hard choice. Damian, Cass, Steph, Duke… they won’t be ‘safe’ until they’re out of the lifestyle entirely. And it’s become increasingly clear that Bruce can’t, or won’t, give up being Batman so what makes you think he’s going to tell them to stop?”

Jason’s words were no different than the ones that occupied his thoughts of late. So why did it feel so much worse to hear them spoken out loud?

“I can’t lose another sibling, Jason. I won’t be able to take it. Please… there’s got to be something we can do.”

Jason hesitated, his eyes dropping to the kitchen counter. The sky was starting to lighten as dawn approached. In the ever-shifting dim of his apartment, it felt like ages before Jason finally spoke again. “I want to show you something. Maybe it will help.”

He walked past Dick to his bookcase and pulled a collection of books off the shelf, revealing a hole in the wall. “I started it about six months back for Steph. Her relationship with Bruce has always been rocky. I knew there might come a time when she went off to do the vigilante thing on her own.”

He reached in and pulled out a saran-wrapped package. “I want her to know that she had money waiting for her—to get a place of her own and new gear if she needs it.”

He tossed the package to Dick. It was a brick of cash, bundled into individual stacks with currency straps. Based on the various conditions of the bills it looks like Jason had swiped them during his many run-ins with Gotham’s criminal underbelly.

“You saved all this for her?” asked Dick.

Jason paused in placing the books back on the shelf and shrugged. “Well, yeah. We know how hard it is to go it alone—the way you have to swallow your pride and values at a certain point because you need Bruce’s help, or money, or his connections. Steph deserves better than that. If she made the decision to leave the fold, I want her to go and not look back.”

Jason leaned against the edge of the bookshelf. “It’s not much when you’re coming from Bruce Wayne’s trust fund, but maybe we could start doing the same for the others; Damian, Cass, Harper, Duke... What do you think?”

“There’s certainly enough dirty operations in Gotham to fund it, but we’d need a better place to store it than a hole in your wall.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

Dick’s mind was already racing with the possibilities. “And we don’t have to stop at cash. I’m sure we both have old safehouses that we don’t use and contacts with other superheroes and scientists that we can share—”

“Whoa, whoa! Dick…” Jason rubbed at his face. “What you’re talking about is building Batman’s resources from the ground up and not even that, doing it all in secret.”

“Are you saying we can’t do it?” asked Dick.

“Not necessarily—”

“Well if we have all the resources then why are we hesitating?” asked Dick.

He held out his hand. “So are we doing this?”

Jason took his hand. “I guess I officially have to stop calling you Golden Boy now.”

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 21: Getting to know one another was a terrible decision, here’s why. Plug your ears.

Lance: Feelings, oh no Keith: Feelings, what are these and what do i do with them? Adam: Pfft, feelings, I- Wha- Um. I kicked a baby today? That's so evil guys, come on! Lance: *skeptical look* Keith: *skeptical look* Adam: Alright, fine! Feelings, gross! And I didn't kick the baby... I just took its candy.

First  Previous  Next

Keith stares at the boiling-hot rock at his feet, ear twitching with curiosity.

“Oh dear. We’d best run inside.” Alfor places a hand between Keith’s shoulders as they make a break for the hole in the castle wall while more rocks fall from the sky. "This happens sometimes! You get used to it!"

“Is this why Lance doesn’t know what rain is?!” Keith shouts as they dodge screaming rocks.

“Yes! He’d lose his quiznaking mind if you told him about it!” Alfor yanks Keith out of the way just as a flaming rock smashes right where he was about to be. Alfor opens a hidden door (which Keith makes note of for later), yanks him into the hall. Alfor pants, doubled over. “Ancients, I'm old. Are you alright?”

“I think so. Does that happen a lot?”

“Only every few phoebs. You might have noticed, but we have an asteroid belt for our innermost planetary ring. It's where much or our ore comes from.”

“I thought nothing of your rings, until now.”

“Well you and Crown Prince Lancel will get to hear all about the minor inconvenience of it when you hold court tomorrow.” They’re back to formal names, like taking off clothes. Or perhaps like putting them on.

“Excellent. I can’t wait. You know, every time you make me go to court, I lose an egg. Infertility is already almost assured-”

“Don’t even bother, Prince Yorak. I’ve been enduring court for centaphoebs. It’s someone else’s turn.”

“Worth a try.”

Alfor chuckles. “I’d best go attend to my husband. I have been working, for better or worse, and he misses me. Be careful, Prince Yorak. Love complicates things.”

“Ke- Yorak!” Lance comes running up, immediately puts a hand around his waist. “Are you alright? It’s stoning outside!”

“Yes, we’re fine.” Keith sighs. “Can you, um. Would you mind showing me the way back to our quarters? I don’t know it.”

“Sure. Come on.” Lance slips his hand to the small of Keith's back, guiding him away. Keith pulls his braid over his shoulder, twisting the end through his fingers.

“Crown Prince Lancel.”

Lance freezes, turns to look at his father. Keith feels a buzz of energy coming from the hand on his back. He can feel the breath Lance takes before he responds. “Yes, King Alfor?”

There's a long, pregnant pause. Then, “You’re doing an excellent job, Lance. With everything. I’ve… I’ve never been more proud of you.”

Lance swallows audibly. Aside from that, the Altean is disturbingly still. Keith twists the end of his braid, says nothing. Finally, “Thank you, Father.”

Back in their room, Lance frantically inspects him. “Are you alright? Were you hurt? What did he say to you?”

“You forgot to mention that an Altean marriage is void without consummation.”

“Nevermind that! You were alone with my possibly corrupt father and then out in a stoning! Are you alright?”

“I…” Keith stares blankly at his spouse while Lance turns his face this way and that, deeply concerned. He swallows. He’s in danger of making this whole mess so much more complicated that it ever needed to be.

“Keith!” Those blue and pink eyes glass with worry. “Are. you. alright?!”

“I- I’m fine.” Keith twists the end of his braid, clenching his jaw before he can chirp and embarrass himself.

“You say as you display a brand new nervous habit,” Lance mutters, still fussing. “Also, your ends are split and you should let me trim it.”

“Sure.”

Lance opens his mouth, pauses. “What, really?”

Keith nods, not trusting himself to say more than a single, monosyllabic word at a time. Lance tilts his chin up, looking into his eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright? You don’t seem like yourself. You didn’t get conked on the head, did you?”

“N- no. I might have taught the king a new swear word, though.”

“Okay.” Lance draws back. He doesn’t sound convinced, but he lets it go, runs a hand through his starlight hair. “Go… take a bath or something. Rest. Relax. Whatever you want. The stoning will be an issue for the rest of the night, so do stay inside.”

Keith nods, grabs some nightclothes, slips into the shower. He stands under the water, draws his hair over his shoulder, unraveling it. He’s being stupid. He can’t cuss out a king and start falling for his husband all in one day.

Actually, cussing Alfor out had been pretty fun. But the rest is incredibly stupid. Keith lets his forehead tip against the smooth white walls.

He is incredibly stupid.

Back in the main room, Lance paces. Adam watches.

“I just don’t understand why I care so much. I mean, I've taken good care of my lovers, but he's firstly, not a lover and secondly, I never cared this much about anyone else!”

Adam smirks, pushes his glasses up his nose. “Perhaps Lady Renli is right. Maybe you do have a thing for kids. Oh, I’m sorry. Kits. ”

“You are disgusting. Why do I keep you?”

“Because you’d die without me. Speaking of which, someone tried to assassinate you both while you were out today. Unilu, we suspect.”

“Oh. Did you kill them?”

“With my bare hands.” Adam smirks, scales flashing with perfect timing. It's highly unsettling.

Lance blinks. “Really?”

“Of course not. I paid someone else to do it. You think I’d get blood on my hands? Do you have any idea what blood can do for soil acidity? I wouldn't have to explain this to Takashi.” Adam scrolls through his datapad, typing on his holographic keyboard.

“I don’t know; I just had this incredibly vivid image of you popping up behind someone and snapping their neck and then calmly going to have brunch with Keith’s littermate as though murder means nothing to you. Also, I'm telling Keith you've got first name privileges. Even he doesn't seem to have that.” Lance has never been more concerned with the person he appointed as his attendant.

“You’re partially correct. You don’t get to know which parts. Also, no one says 'no' to me. Not twice anyway.”

“That's highly disturbing. Are you at least flirting with Shiro?” Nothing. Lance pouts. “Whatever. What do I do about Keith?”

“Do you love him?”

“...No.”

“Do you want to love him? Do that thing people that aren't me do where they love each other and have a fulfilling relationship?”

Lance glares, sticks out his bottom lip; Adam raises an eyebrow; Lance crumbles immediately. Mumbles, “...Kind of?”

Adam sighs, smiles. “Then, just do what you’re already doing. You’re working hard to fulfill both his needs as a kit and as a person. You respect him, you're letting him grow on his own, and you're working to include him in your life. That last bit is so incredibly important.”

“You know, growing up, I never imagined I’d one day be raising my own husband. I just hope I can raise him right. I don’t want to be a deadbeat with a worthless spouse who sneaks out after dark and runs wild with all the other delinquent child brides.” Lance shakes his head in mock disappointment. Keith sneaks out a lot to go wander aimlessly in the woods and he has absolutely no problem with that. He trusts him to come back.

“You’re morally dubious, your Majesty.”

“And you’re morally bankrupt, my friend.”

“I never even made a deposit.” Adam smirks, smug and satisfied.

“You say that like it’s a good thing. You actually sound proud of that.”

“Tell me something, your Majesty. Where would you be if I had?”

“Do you two need a minute alone or…?” Keith steps into the room, hair soaking through his nightshirt.

“Excuse you, I am a married man. How dare you, sir?!” Lance grins, holding out a hand to Keith, who takes it, sits down on the bed a respectful distance away. Keith seems okay. A little… small, like he wants to vanish, but he doesn’t seem injured- wait. “Hey, did you hurt yourself?”

“Hm? Oh.” Keith holds up his burned arm. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You’re still bleeding,” Adam pointed out. “How did you not notice?”

“I was distracted.” Keith starts twisting his hair, until he notices the Alteans watching him.

“You didn’t tell me he had a new nervous habit. When did he develop a new nervous habit? Do you have any idea what this could do to my-”

Lance pinches the bridge of his nose. “Adam could you maybe-”

“Lay the fuck off?" Keith suggests. "Just this once.”

"Hey!"

“Wow your language is really awful today. Adam, do shut up please.” Lance munches his lip, tries to figure out how to set his spouse at ease. “Do you want me to cut your hair?”

“Okay.”

Lance smiles, thanks Adam when he materializes with a pair of hair scissors and a fine comb. “Here, you can sit in Adam’s chair, since he’s up.”

“Oh, thanks so much," Adam grumbles. "I’ll see you tomorrow. You’re welcome for not being dead!”

“Dead?” Keith asks, turning to him with alarm as the doors close. “What?”

Lance draws on his quintessence, runs his fingers over Keith’s wound. “Assassination attempt. Adam took care of it.”

“I bet he didn’t even blink.”

“Certainly not, as he watched his own assassin break my assassin’s neck.”

“Adam has his own assassin?” It occurs to Lance as Keith asks his question that they should likely be way more concerned about this. Eh. Facts of life.

“I imagine he grows them like tubers in his garden. Or perhaps in a jar.”

“I believe it. I bet he keeps the jar illuminated so he can watch it grow while he falls asleep like a very macabre night light… I’m glad you weren’t assassinated- Why are you petting my wound?”

“Look.” Lance smiles as Keith gapes down at his arm, sees his skin closing. It is pretty miraculous. Both the healing and the fact that Lance managed to do it without blowing them up. “Hey, I’m sorry you got hurt. And that you had to deal with my father. I know he’s not exactly your favorite person.”

“It’s fine. I still hate him, but… I think I understand him better. So that’s something.” Lance hums, pulls him into a chair. Keith sits, feels a comb running through his hair, the *snick* of the hair scissors. ”You won’t cut off too much, will you?”

“No, I won’t ruin your beautiful hair. You will, if you keep clawing at it when you’re stressed… You’re surprisingly vain.”

“I'm not vain about everything. It’s just the one thing… What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Uh, court, then studying crop yields. Wanna come? You can learn all about… I dunno, plants I guess.”

“Hm. sounds exciting. Yeah, I’ll come.”

“Great! It’s a date,” Lance teases. “It’ll be so romantic, learning about shreika feces or whatever. But we could use a higher sustainable yield so we’re more desirable for interplanetary commerce.”

“I take it there’s a long-term aim in mind?”

“Two. Firstly, alleviate poverty and the resulting bitterness among the people who grow my food. Secondly, start creating interplanetary relationships based on something other than the terror of our vicious army and merciless, excessively destructive armada.”

“I like that idea. Perhaps we can go speak to some of the farmers? People… People like to know that they’re valued. Talking to them instead of researching them in your enormous private library will go a long way toward gaining their respect. Also, agrarian communities tend to be close-knit, so you may need to start with small things before they'll open up to you.”

“Oh, like adjusting taxes? Done! But I’ll keep that in mind. There you go! Hair’s all cut. I worked a bit of quintessence into it to keep it healthy.”

“Thank you… My father kept his hair long. He, uh. When I was a small kit, my mother was fighting and I was too young to be left on my own. My father would give me the end of his braid to play with while we were hunting. We’d have to be still and quiet for a long time, and it helped if I had something to do. We didn't have much.” Keith pulls a lock of hair over his shoulder. It feels nice, nicer than before. “It seems stupid, but he was so strong and brave and this is my way of honoring him.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s nice that you found a way to remember him. Also, I wanna see you strangle someone with it. It’d be super cool.”

Keith laughs, soft and sweet. Lance smiles at the sound of it. “Well, maybe someone else will try to assassinate us and you’ll get your wish.”

Lance flops back on the bed, wriggling up to the pillows. “Yeah. If Adam doesn’t spoil the fun with his stupid efficiency.”

Keith flops, wriggles to lie next to him. “Yeah. He’s terrifying. I think he’s the most dangerous person here.”

“Oh. Yes, without a doubt. He’s pure evil and we should all be afraid. Except Takashi.”

"What?! That's not fair! Even I don't call him that!"

"I know. Can you even imagine? Pure evil and pure good teamed up together? They could do anything they wanted. Anything at all."

“Mhm. Goodnight, Lance. I'll teach you about 'fuck' tomorrow.” Keith nestles himself down in the blankets, yawning sleepily as he curls himself into a ball, tail up by his hands. He's exhausted, deserves a good night's sleep.

"Ooh, can't wait." Lance activates Keith’s datapad, dims the lights. He leaves the fire crackling. Nights are getting cold; winter is on the way. As he burrows into the bed, he remembers something, sits back up. He reaches over, rubs at the base of Keith’s velveteen ear. The Galra purrs, leaning into the touch as he settles deeper into the bed.

Lance smiles. “Goodnight, Keith.”

[jemej3m]

leisuring

directly caused by by @mini-minish​‘s andrew in jenna marble’s leisuring suit, i present to you this:

a stupid short fic where andrew is jenna and neil is julien

(based loosely on her videos i want to be tall, i try hot glue crafts, cooking vegan thanksgiving food, giving my boyfriend acrylic nails and how many balloons does it take to lift my dog off the floor and maybe a few others)

*

Andrew frowned at the video. He almost ignored it: He ignored a lot of things on the internet, except for the video suggestions that truly stuck with him. And Neil’s texts.

Even then, sometimes he found himself so lost that spiral that was the internet that even Neil didn’t draw him out.

He’d seen shit like this all over the place already: Shane Dawson, all those pathetic beauty gurus, where edits brought their best (worst?) moments all together for a ten minute long shitshow.

And here was Andrew’s ten minute long shit show. Appropriately titled “andrew and neil annoying each other for ten minutes straight”, it was posted by some random person. Nicko. Weird.

Andrew almost didn’t click on it. Almost.

Then he did, and it unfolded like this:

*

“Andrew,” Neil said, exasperated. “What are you doing.”

Andrew was sat in a dark corner of the house, playing the electronic keyboard. It had a choral overlay, like a church choir was humming along to him. He said: “I want to be tall.”

Neil snorted. “Neither of us have grown since sixth grade.”

He played another chord. “I want to grow a whole eight inches, Neil.”

Neil arched an eyebrow, holding the camera in front of his chest. Andrew looked up at him instead. “You want to grow a whole eight inches.”

“Then I will be average height.” He played his third and final chord. “I want to be tall.”

Neil sighed. “Fine. Come on.”

*

cut screen

[andrew and neil annoying each other for ten minutes straight]

*

“Neil.” Andrew leaned into the study, where Neil was curled into a ball with a hood drawn over his head. He probably had woken up at six-am to go for a jog and hadn’t bothered to shower since, considering Neil was disgusting and nothing Andrew did would ever change that.

Neil looked up from the computer screen and immediately frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that.”

Andrew thought he was looking pretty dead-pan. Fuck Neil for being able to see right through him. “How would you feel - ”

Neil put his head in his hands. “Give me the sweet release of death already.”

“- about me giving you a full set of acrylic nails.”

Neil’s head dropped to the desktop with a loud bang.

*

“Neil.” Andrew snapped. “Neil. Quit that. You’re making a mess.”

“It’s fine.” Neil grinned, flipping a glass bowl and snatching it mid-air with his hand. The camera zoomed into Andrew’s eye twitching, every time Neil threw and caught that infernal bowl. “It’s fine. What’s wrong? Everything’s fine.”

“I fucking hate you.” Andrew growled.

*

“How many times did we have to go back to Party City to get these balloons?” Andrew wondered aloud.

“Six times.” Neil informed him, looking at how his cat (Sir, not King - King was way too hyperactive) was relaxing about three metres above the ground. She was suspended with seventy-two helium balloons, because Andrew wanted to know how many balloons it took to lift their small cat.

“She’s sleeping, ‘Drew.” Neil murmured grinning behind his hand. “Oh my god, she’s so relaxed. She’s sleeping.”

“It’s because King can’t reach her, and thus, can’t taunt her or wake her up.” Andrew looked at the dozens of balloons that now filled their living room with satisfaction. “It’ll be her safe space.”

Neil slung his arm around Andrew’s shoulders, still filming as their cat spun meaninglessly through the air.

*

“Ow!” Neil hissed, inspecting his now inch-and-a-half long acrylic nails. “Ow. What the fuck. What the fuck!”

“Calm down.” Andrew berated him, finishing the acrylic on his second last nail. “You’re being a wuss.”

“I want these off, now.” Neil moaned.

“Well, I don’t have pure acetone, so we’ll see if we can get them off at all.”

“Wait, what?” Neil yelped, glaring at Andrew. He widened his eyes. “What?”

*

“I’m going to give you a Brazilian Blowout.” Andrew menacingly waved his hairdryer around. “You’ll look like you’re compensating for a lack of an emo-phase in your teenage years.”

Neil grinned up at him from where he was sitting. “You never moved on from that phase, did you?”

Andrew almost stabbed him with the hairbrush. “I’m compensating for you.”

Neil settled into the chair. “Do what you want. Just don’t bring the FBI running.”

Andrew snorted.

*

Andrew walked out from the corridor in eight-inch heels, hair sprayed upright.

“Oh, damn.” Neil said, softly, looking at the leather boots and purple trousers that were tight around his thighs.

“Keep it in your pants, Josten.” Andrew said snipily. “Eyes are up here.”

“Don’t worry,” Neil grinned, craning his neck up to look at him. “That orange jacket is really turning me off.”

*

Andrew stared dead into the camera with a hat made out of hot glue to his head. The camera zoomed in. He slowly help up a different piece of hot glue.

“See, Five-Minute-Crafts? I can create random shit out of hot glue, too.”

It read fuck you.

*

“Neil, that’s too much cinnamon.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Neil.”

“Yes?”

“I fucking hate you.”

*

“I’m angry.” Andrew said.

“Well, no shit.” Neil remarked. “You just spent six hours making a chair out of jeans, with nothing but staples to put it together.” He threaded his fingers through Andrew’s hair as his boyfriend looked up at him in misery. “It’s completely rational.”

*

“Should we bring her down?” Neil whispered. Sir hadn’t woken up from where she was napping, mid-air.

“Why are you whispering.” Andrew said flatly.

“She’s asleep. Don’t wanna be rude.”

“It’s a cat floating in midair. Somehow, I don’t think it cares.”

*

Andrew slowly turned his face towards Neil as he glittered with rhinestones. He’d never felt more itchy in his life, and he’d put on a hundred layers of fake eyelashes once.

“Pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, pass,” Andrew winked at him and Neil grinned. “Smash.”

*

Neil stabbed a banana with his terrifyingly long nails and grinned at Andrew as disgusting banana goop got stuck under his nails. Andrew wanted to retch.

Then he bent down and tried to feed it from the cats, and Andrew hated his boyfriend so much.

*

“Are you satisfied, now?” Neil looked up at Andrew, who was a little unsteady in these eight-inch boots. His head hurt with the amount of hairspray they’d used to stand his hair up, even though his hair wasn’t even that long.

“This is now my permanent state.” Andrew replied.

Neil rolled his eyes.

*

“Guess who’s man isn’t here to be the idiot?” Andrew pointed at himself. “My man. Guess who’s going to compensate for Neil’s idiocy by dyeing his hair bright red?” He pointed at himself. “This bitch.”

*

“Neil.” Andrew said, voice on the absolute edge of losing it. Neil fucking threw a piece of cannoli dough into the deep fryer, getting hot oil everywhere. “If you’re going to go and be a tornado all through the kitchen, then fucking tornado your way out to the living room.”

Neil coughed in his ear on purpose, and Andrew grabbed him by the sleeve.

“Aw,” Neil was laughing too hard to be taking Andrew serious. “You’re no fun!”

Andrew shoved him onto the couch. “Stay there till the deep fryer is off.”

*

Andrew gazed out the window. “The sun has set since I started doing this.” He then turned, gazing straight into the camera. “The sun’s setting on the opportunity for me to do something with my life.

*

Sir lazed on the chair that Andrew sat beside, reading out the mean comments that the internet had spared her. She was the ‘dead’ one, an old cat who barely moved or even blinked, whilst King was the more challenged one, to say the least.

“Oh, look.” Andrew said icily. “It’s a comment from Allison Reynolds herself. Keep talking up your cats, Reynolds. We all know they can’t manage anything more than purely aesthetic function, just like yourself.”

Neil whistled lowly. “Not sure your best friend would appreciate you calling her girlfriend a trophy wife.”

“Is that not what Reynolds is?” Andrew snorted. “My mistake.”

*

Neil made kissy noises. “You lookin’ like a snack.”

Andrew brandished a kitchen knife. “Say that again, I dare you.”

Neil just grinned and mouthed love you.

*

cut screen

[thx for watching]

*

Andrew slapped his laptop closed.

“Neil,” He called over his shoulder. “I’m quitting Youtube.”

His boyfriend leaned over the back of the couch to loop his arms around Andrew’s shoulders and press kisses to his cheeks. “Uhuh. Because I’ve never heard you say that before.”

Andrew grumbled, grabbing Neil by the arms and throwing him over the back of the couch. He partially landed in Andrew’s lap.

“I’ve been jiu-jitsed!” Neil rolled off the couch with a melodramatic thud. “It’s all over. Tell my father I love him!”

“He’s dead and you hate him.” Andrew said flatly. Neil grinned up at him.

“You know me so well.” He sunk into the couch beside Andrew, curling into a ball against his side. “Will you show me this video of us?”

Andrew sighed, opening his laptop. He let himself droop his head down to Neil’s shoulder, somewhat nuzzling into the familiar scent of his shirt.

He’d quit another day.

*

thx for readin lmao

[lettersofwrittencollective]

The Pull (27/?)

Summary: The Ragnulf’s are one of the oldest lines of werewolves known. A gift from ancient times was given to the line. Though not all of the line will experience it. There are some who will experience a Pull. This Pull leads them to their true mate, a soulmate. The problem is, just because the wolf finds their true mate does not mean that they are the same for that person.

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective

Pairing: Stiles x Hale!Cousin OC (Reader)  

Word count: 2854

Warnings:

A/N: Okay so a couple things, this is going to be the last posting of The Pull for at least two weeks (Unless I can find time in between all the crazy to get a scene out). I have finals coming up and recently there was a family thing that has come up that needs my attention and may require more attention. In the meantime, PLEASE let me know what you think of this scene/ story! Let me know if you want to see more! Truthfully, interaction makes me so very happy and I love to hear from all of you! So, comment, reblog, send me smashed keyboards, anything works 😘

Also - I do not speak Japanse. I did want to use what was actually said in the show but could not find a translation in the time that I had. So, I went with a taunt. I will put what the taunt should be after the tag list. If someone who reads Japanese sees this and knows it’s wrong, please let me know I am happy to adjust/ fix.

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

Panting, Stiles uses what he has left of battery on his phone to turn on the flashlight. The cold felt like it was seeping into his bones but his leg was starting to feel numb and he was worried about what that actually meant. Turning, he shined the light on his leg and found a bear trap in his leg. The sight terrified him and the scream that left him turned into a sob. What had happened? How had he gotten here?

The sound of scraping caught his attention and he moved the phones light to where the sound was coming from as it continued. When nothing was immediately visible, he shakily asked: “Who’s there?”

Merely watching the boy was becoming quite satisfying. It had been years since he’d been fed and then these children had decided to go ahead and make themselves a sacrifice. It had been the perfect opportunity to get back into the world.

He continued to move around the space, without responding to the boy, reveling in the horror, fear, and pain that radiated off him.

“I know you’re there, I can hear you.’

Sitting down, Void watched as the light moved through the created room. A smile formed on his features as he felt the boys panic rising. The light had almost passed him when it suddenly flashed back to his position.

“Who are you?”

Standing, he drew a kanji on the wall before stepping back into the shadow. As the fear spiked he feasted on the gift before him.

Stiles’ heart was beating as the figure had stepped away. Looking at what had been drawn, it took him a moment but he realized that it was the kanji for “self.” He wasn’t sure how he knew that but he did.

He watched as the seemingly innocent chalk then flew away in particles of the flashlight moved away. A feeling of dread crawled down his spine.

Watching the brunette from the shadows, he waited. This host was stronger than the hunter. Stronger than the previous host it would seem. There were qualities that even he wasn’t aware of and it made him giddy to know that some of those very qualities would be what would allow controlling the situation so much easier.

The best part? The pain of the supernatural was always more potent than the pain of the human.

You’d barely parked your bike when you were screaming for the sheriff as you ran into the police station as Scott called after you. You could feel your control slipping as you turned to growl at him.

The three of you must have made a sight because one of the deputies had a hand on his gun and was asking what you were up to and how he could help.

“We need to see the Sherriff,” Scott tried and when the deputy went to answer, you could tell he was going to give you some excuse as to why you couldn’t so you cut in and informed him that The Sheriff's son was missing.

The blood drained from the deputies face and you moved past him towards the offices.

Kindness. This is his dad, he’s going to care and it’s going to hurt him but he is cool but he has to keep his cool,  your instincts reminded you and you slowed to knock on the door.

Hearing the words come in, you pushed open the door with Scott and Isaac right behind you. You looked at Noah Stilinski and your heart broke. He was just a man whose son had managed to get caught up in the supernatural and who probably worries for him more than Stiles actually knows. This was going to be a nightmare come true for him.

You’re not sure what Isaac and Scott were thinking but neither of them said a word at first and the room must have been silent for too long because a moment later, Mr. Stilinski was looking up from his paperwork.  As soon as he saw the three of you, his face dropped.

“Where’s Stiles?” he asked, the fear in his voice ensuring you that you were right, this was his nightmare.

You want to answer, you really do but you know it would be better to hear it from Scott so you turn to look at him. Scott looks like he would rather not be the one to deliver the news but you watch as he falls into the role of the Alpha. Stepping past you, he tells the Sheriff that he’s not sure.

Mr. Stilinski’s heart stops for a moment before it resumes beating much faster. He takes a moment to breathe and get his heart beat under control and he calls out for Parrish.

A younger looking deputy comes into the room, “Sir?”

“We have a missing teenager.”

Parrish pulled out his notebook, “Who?”

“My son.”

Parish stopped and looked at the Sheriff and then the group of you before nodding his head, “I’ll get everyone gathered.” He turned around and left the office.

“Scott, what happened?”

Scott tells him about the phone call and going to the house. How Lydia had had one of her feelings and been there as well. How she had stayed behind because she said there was something going on in the room. He didn’t, however, tell him aout the terror in Stiles’ voice or how he’d begged that you all leave is dad out of it.

“But his jeep was still at the house?”

Scott shakes his head. Before Mr. Stilinski or Scott can say anything else, Parrish is back in the room letting him know that the deputies are all gathered.

You watch as Mr. Stilisnki changes right before your eyes. He’s still a terrified dad but he’s put that to the back and is the Sheriff. Stepping out of the room and in front of his group, he begins, “We have a missing 17-year-old caucasian male.” Immediately, every deputy in the room is writing down the information, “He’s 5’ 10”, about 150 lbs,  brunette hair.”

He then turns to you, “When was the last time you saw him?”

You had to think about it for a moment, “I think it was about 10ish. He was tired and had said he wanted to call it a night.”

You could see the look of confusion on some of the deputies faces and you were sure that someone probably thought that you had done something but you didn’t say anything.

“The missing boy is my son.”

From the reaction of the deputies, you figured that Parrish hadn’t said who the missing person was because you were sure that a few of them had whiplash.

“If his Jeep is gone, that’s where we start,” the Sheriff tells you and you’re not sure why he does though you suspect it’s so that he can stay focused on the task at hand. He then turns to the deputy from earlier and starts assigning tasks, “Parrish, let’s get an APB out on a blue 1980 CJ-5 Jeep. Cordova, I want a list of any kind of industrial basement or sub-level of any building that he could’ve gotten into while sleepwalking.”

The Sheriff then turns to the rest of the deputies, “It’s the coldest night of the year so far so if he’s out there barefoot in just a T-shirt, he could already be hypothermic. Let’s move fast, let’s think fast.”

As everyone gets up and moving, he turns to the three of you, “The three of you, come with me.”

Following him back into his office, he closes the door and looks at the three of you, “Is there anything you need to tell me that I can’t tell everybody out there?”

“Only that Lydia knew he was missing, but we already told you that.”

“Can she help find him?”

“Well, she’s working on it,” Isaac points out and while he doesn’t sound hopeful he does sound like he thinks she’s a good bet.

“Anything else?”

Scott points out that he called Allison for help.

“And I texted Derek and Peter, they’re going through the Iron Works right now to see if there’s any scent of him,” you said reading the message on your phone.

“Alright,” he says slowly, “Can you find him by scent?”

Before anyone can respond, Parrish is opening the door and informing that the jeeps been found. The Sheriff and a few deputies run out of the station and are in their squad cars. You see Scott get in one but hop on your bike and follow them, Isaac not far behind you.

You pull up to the hospital and see the jeep just as everyone else does and as soon as you’ve removed your helmet you get Stiles’ scent. The confusing part, though, is that it the strongest part of the scent seems to be coming from above you. Taking a deeper breath, you make sure that’s what it is.

The Sheriff’s already confirmed that he’s not in the jeep. They’re rushing inside and you run past Scott and the Sheriff towards the stairs. Running up them, you come to the roof and have to stop. That feeling of foreboding has increased and you’re sure, for some reason, that whatever is on the other side of the door isn’t gonna be Stiles.

Stepping out, you’re immediately hit by the scent and it makes you whine. Like most wolves, you’d never liked the scent but this was something different, it wasn’t just bitter it was heartwrenching. But, you kept walking onto the wolf. Even though you knew he wasn’t here you had to see it for yourself that Stiles wasn’t here before you walked away.

As you’re searching the rooftop, Derek shows up. Turning to him, you watch as he registers the scents as well. He begins to walk the roof, in the opposite direction of you.

“You notice it’s just his scent?”

You nod your head before you realize that Derek probably can’t see you, “Can you feel how tortured he was?”

“Why do you think that would be?”

You stop searching and come back to the middle of the roof with Derek. “I don’t know,” you whisper softly before closing you’re eyes and taking a deeper breath. As you do you open yourself up to the emotions.

There’s torment and anguish and you’re feeling them in a way that you haven’t before. It’s almost as if the building itself has absorbed the emotion and you’re about to let it go when suddenly there’s a voice, “Remember, Little Wolf, we are trying to save you.”

“Why would you say that?” you ask Derek, confused at his choice of words. Before he can respond, though, Scott and Isaac are on the roof.

“He’s not here,” you tell them.

“Not anymore at least,” Derek points out.

Scott clarifies that you two do, in fact, mean the whole building.

“He’s gone.”

Scott shakes his head and then turns to Isaac who is offering to go tell the Sheriff and nods his head before reminding him to find Allison as well. She apparently hasn’t picked up her phone.

Isaacs gone and you’re left on the roof with your cousin and Scott. Scott comes to stand next to Derek and you again close your eyes, trying to focus on the scent around you. It is Stiles’ scent but at the same time, there is something off about it.

Derek asks Scott if he notices the scent on the roof, how strong it is and then asks him if he’s ever heard of chemosignals. You have but you’re not sure what they are and you’re hoping Scott hasn’t heard of them because you’d really like to know. Derek, however, doesn’t give Scott a chance to respond before he says, “Chemical signals that communicate emotion. Just our sweat can give off anger, fear, or disgust.”

He tells Scott to take a deep breath and tell him what he feels. Scott follows instructions and you’re glad that he also recognizes the stress and anxiety. But he misses the terror and it’s then that you realize Derek hadn’t mentioned what he smelled just that he did smell things.

“Is there anything else either of you are getting?’ you ask them, unsure if you’re losing your mind. They both shake their head, Derek turns a questioning gaze on you but before either of you verbalize anything, Scott’s asking what Stiles’ had been doing on the roof.

“We don’t know, “ Derek says with a shake of his head, but there was definitely some kind of struggle.”

“With who?”

“Himself,” you say. Scott turns to look at you and you shake your head, “We need a game plan.”

“Isaacs going to find Allison to see if she can help more. Argent will come with them and he’s petty good at tracking,” Scott begins, “Lydia’s with Aiden at Stiles’ house to see if she can find anything in his room with all the strings. I’ll stick with the Sheriff and help him with any other leads he’s got. You said that Derek and Peter were checking the Iron Works earlier?”  

You nodded your head and looked at Derek, “We found nothing. Peter’s asking around downtown to see if anyone's seen anything or to see if he can catch a scent,”  he tells you guys and Scotts annoyed but nods in agreement anyways.

You figure that he just wants to find Stiles and figures that there’s no point in arguing it. It leaves just you and Derek.

“What are we not covering?” you ask.

Scott turns his gaze to you and the three of you have the same idea, “The high school, you two go check the high school.”

Nodding your head, you and Derek make your way out of the hospital pretty quickly and are, thankfully, not stopped by anyone on the way.  You follow Derek out of the lot on your bike.

He can tell that she’s worried but the boy has no idea, it will make the destruction all the sweeter. His phone’s dying and the little bit of light that he had is now disappearing from him. He watches as the boy tries to pull the bear trap off his leg again and he steps back out. If he’s going to get his feast, he needs to push this one to stay alive and reach his potential.

The sound must have caught his host's attention because he’s asking, “Who’s there?” and then screaming, “Who are you?”

Walking amongst the things his host has created, he responds, “私は彼女をあなたの手を使って破壊し、あなたがそれを理解したときにあなたが感じる悲しみを祝います”

Stiles doesn’t understand what the man before him is saying and he’s already made it clear but he just kept talking in the same language and Stiles is genuinely afraid that Scotts not gonna make it. That Natasha isn’t gonna make it and he can feel the tears form, “I don’t,” a sob breaks through, “I don’t understand,” he says as he pushes himself against the wall.

Suddenly, the creature with him is speaking in accented English, “Not who are you, Stiles. Who are we?”

Stiles tries to push himself up but the trap digs in and he lets out a pain filled grunt as he falls back. The creature doesn’t help him but continues, “It’s getting colder, Stiles. Did you notice, we stopped shivering?”  The creature sounds genuinely annoyed at that and Stiles has to stop and breathe for a moment before he realizes that his breathing is getting shallower.

“Do you know why that’s a bad sign?”

“It’s the body trying to conserve energy. It was my fifth-grade science report, hypothermia,” Stiles says as he tries to move his body some. He’s going to die in this basement it would seem.

“Our speech is starting to thicken. Then comes fatigue. Confusion. We’re going to die if we don’t get out of here. We have too many things to do to die, Stiles.”

There’s a taunting in the voice that irriates him and Stiles shakes his head, “Stop saying that. Stop saying we.”

The creature just ignores him, “We’re trying to keep you from freezing to death.” He sounds like he’s getting angrier when he says, “You better get up, Stiles.”

“How?!” he yells back and motions to his leg, “There’s a freaking steel-jawed trap on my leg!”

The creature is silent for a moment and then all Stiles sees are silver sharpened spiked teeth, “Is there?” comes the whisper.

Sure that he’s about to die, that his father is going to have to bury him next to his mother, Stiles begins sobbing. He turns his body to sit in a different position.

“Notice something different?” the creature asks. “It was on your right leg before wasn’t it?”

Stiles looks and sees that the trap is on his left leg, “No…” he murmurs softly. The creature asks him if he’s sure and he remembers it being on the right leg. But how can that be? He turns back to the voice, “What is this? What are you doing?”

“We are trying to save you, Stiles. We’re trying to save your life.”

-

-

-

The Taunt: I will destroy her using your hands and feast on your sorrow when you understand what you have done.

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Posted 26 May 2019

[millie1536]

Piano Lessons

Part 5 of 10

Izzy loved going to the theatre with her family. It quickly became like a third home, her second home being Bessie, Maggie, Maria and Joan’s house. She would sit up in the dressing rooms during the show reading or writing or drawing or just talking to the dog.

It was the time before and after shows that she really enjoyed. Izzy loved to hang out backstage before shows doing little jobs here and there. The crew were happy to let her help out where possible but they couldn’t help but worry for the girl’s safety. Backstage was crowded with wires and cables and sandbags and god knows what else.

“Hey Izzy.” Izzy turned around to see Joan waving at her from her keyboard, “Come here a sec.” Izzy nodded and made her way out of the wings and onto the almost empty stage.

“What’s up?” Izzy asked, rock a little on the balls of her feet.

“Well,” Joan began, “I finished everything I had to do and we’ve still got almost an hour and half until the show starts so I was wondering if you’d like to play?” Joan gave a little nod towards her keyboard. Izzy’s eyes lit up for a moment before the excitement seemed to drain from her.

“I don’t know how.” She confessed, shame rising in her chest.

“I can teach you.” Joan moved over on the stool and patted the spot beside her. Hesitantly Izzy sat beside her. “Alright so,” Joan pressed down on one of the keys, “This is middle C. If you remember that you can work out all the other notes pretty quick.” She explained.

Joan had been wanting to offer to teach Izzy how to play for a while but had thought that asking the child if she wanted music lessons wasn’t the best course of action. So, naturally, when their stage manager had mentioned the crews concerns for Izzy’s safety Joan had decided that before shows would be a great time to see if Izzy was interested in playing.

As it turned out piano didn’t come as easily to Izzy as bass had. Occasionally she would grow frustrated and Joan would have to hold her hands to stop her from smashing the instrument.

“It’s alright. I know it’s difficult but you’re doing so well.” Joan would tell her, “It took me ages to be able to sight read so you’re already ahead of me with that.”

Despite the frustration it was clear Izzy enjoyed learning the piano. The queens had noticed the way her fingers would tap against the table throughout dinner or against her leg while she watched tv. They also noticed that she wasn’t picking or scratching at her skin as often as she used to, though it still happened during panic attacks and meltdowns.

 “That was perfect.” Joan said as the last note of the song faded away. Izzy blushed as a wide grin spread across her face.

“Yeah?” She asked, still not all that confident with her playing.

“Yeah.” Joan nodded, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulder. “Now, are there any songs you really want to learn?”

“What do you mean?” Izzy tilted her head slightly.

“Well, you’ve got a pretty solid foundation and it’s more fun when you’re playing songs you like.” Izzy thought for a moment.

“Could we… Could we try Quiet?” Izzy asked nervously.

“From Matilda, right?” Joan asked, Izzy nodded. “Of course we can. Let me print off song sheet music tonight and we can start tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Uh, actually,” Izzy’s voice was uncertain as she spoke, “I was wondering if we could do it at your house.”

“Sure, why don’t you come over tomorrow after the show and we can get started?” Joan decided not to question the reason behind Izzy not wanting to practice in the theatre, she figured Izzy would tell her if she needed to know.

 “Is it just me or is it oddly quiet?” Aragon said one Sunday morning as she sat down to have breakfast.

“Well the cousins are still asleep and Izzy went next door a few hours ago.” Jane informed her.

“Huh, it really is quiet without her.” Aragon thought aloud, “You know, I don’t think I ever realised how much I like hearing her talk about whatever it is she’s fixated on that week.” Jane nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s nice having all that energy in the house.”

 Joan watched as Izzy’s fingers danced along the keys. They had both been surprised at how quickly the she had picked it up. They had only started learning the song two weeks back and already she could play it without looking at her hands.

“You know,” Joan said as Izzy finished the song, “I’m pretty sure it’s a lot slower than that.”

“Oh, I know. I just figured that if I could play it really fast it would be super easy to play it normally.” Izzy shrugged.

“That’s really clever, I never thought of that.” Joan said. Izzy opened her mouth as if to say something but quickly shook her head. “What is it?” Joan asked.

“I uh, I was just wondering I maybe I could learn some of the songs from the show?”

“That’s a great idea, is there a particular one you want to start with?” Joan asked, pulling out a large folder from a pile of sheet music.

“Um, could we do Kitty’s?” Izzy asked anxiously. Despite spending so much time at the theatre she had never actually heard Kathrine’s song. Kitty had explained to her why she didn’t want Izzy to listen to it just yet but she couldn’t help but wonder.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” Joan sighed.

“Please. Just the piano. Nothing else. I promise I won’t look at the lyrics.” Izzy begged, “I just want to hear it, even if it’s just the music and not the words.” Joan thought for a moment before nodding.

“Alright but give me a second.” Joan left the room, taking her score with her.

When she returned she set the sheet music on the stand in front of Izzy.

“Really?” Izzy asked, amusement in her voice, “Don’t you need to be able to see that?”

“Not anymore. I could play the show with my eyes shut, and I probably would if I wasn’t worried I’d fall asleep.” Joan replied. She understood why Izzy wanted to learn the song but she also wasn’t going to risk either of them getting into trouble and so she had borrowed one of Maggie’s permanent markers, the ones she used to draw on her old guitars, and black out the lyrics.

“Point taken.” Izzy smiled, looking back at the music before her. Slowly but surely she began to play. It was slower than the song was usually played and occasionally Izzy would hit the wrong note but for the most part she faced little trouble.

 Izzy arrived home just in time for dinner that night and was instantly met with questions.

“How was your day?” Jane asked, followed quickly be Aragon saying;

“Did you two remember to eat lunch or did you just play piano all day?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly remember.” Izzy admitted, “But Maria knew we’d forget and made sandwiches so we did eat.” Aragon sighed.

“You two really are hopeless.”

“What were you working on today?” Anne asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, you know.” Izzy shrugged, hoping no one could tell how nervous she was, “We worked on Quiet for a bit and then tried a few other things.” Anne seemed satisfied by the response and didn’t ask any more questions.

Despite knowing that she wasn’t doing anything wrong Izzy couldn’t help but feel nervous around the queens that night. She did her best to hide it but they all knew what to look for by now. Thankfully no one said anything.

 “Come on, Petite Loup, time for bed.” Kathrine said during an ad break as they sat watching tv that night.

“Five more minutes?” Izzy asked.

“You said that fifteen minutes ago.” Anne said from where she and Cathy were sitting.

“Come on.” Kitty stood up, Izzy rolled her eyes playfully before saying goodnight to everyone and going upstairs.

Izzy was quiet as she got ready for bed, Kitty had been hoping she would be a little more relaxed away from the others but she only seemed to grow more tense.

“You want to tell me what’s bother you?” She asked gently as she climbed into bed beside Izzy.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Izzy told her, before moving away from Kathrine and rolling over so her back was towards the pink haired girl.

“Izzy?” Kitty asked again, a bit firmer this time.

“It’s nothing, I just want to go to sleep, alright?” Izzy said, a bit harsher than she meant to. She had hoped that Kitty would drop it but her response seemed to only make Kathrine more concerned.

“Isabella. Please don’t lie to me. I can tell something’s bothering you.” The use of her full name along with the gentle, caring sound of Kathrine’s voice is what finally broke Izzy.

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly, her shoulders beginning to shake. “I know I shouldn’t have but I just wanted to hear it.”

“Shhh, hey. It’s alright. You’re okay.” Kathrine said gently, still not knowing what Izzy was talking about.

“But I promised I wouldn’t listen to it.” Izzy said, sitting up against the bedhead. “You told me you didn’t want me to listen to it and I said I wouldn’t but I did.” Izzy pulled her knees to her chest and hid her head in them

“Oh sweetie,” Kathrine said gently as she realised what Izzy meant, “Is that the other song you and Joan were playing?” Izzy nodded.

“But we didn’t listen to the recording and Joan blacked out the lyrics on the sheet music.” Izzy said quickly, “She said it would be alright for me to hear the music but that you were right about the lyrics but I promised I wouldn’t listen to it and I didn’t but I was playing it and-“

“Hey, hey.” Kathrine moved so she was sitting beside Izzy, “It’s okay. I promise I’m not mad. Joan was right, I don’t mind you listening to the music I just think that the lyrics might be a bit much at the moment.” Kathrine risked resting a hand on Izzy’s shoulder. Physical contact was always a gamble with the girl. Some days she would panic and scramble away and other times she would melt into the touch. That night it happened to be the latter. Izzy leaned into the touch for a moment before crawling over and curling up under Kathrine’s arm.

“I love you, Kitty.” Izzy murmured as she drifted off to sleep.

“I love you too, my little wolf.”

[nadziejastar]

Terra’s name was carved on the handle of that wooden Keyblade. It was Ven’s most treasured possession. Both of his friends had gone off without him, though.

He whirled the practice blade around and held it aloft. Maybe it’s because I’m still in training.

When he spun it around once more, his hand slipped, and the sword tumbled to the ground. Someone else scooped it up.

“This yours?”

It was a red-haired boy about the same age as Ven, wearing a scarf with a checkered black-and-yellow pattern around his neck. Who is this weirdo?

“You still play with toy swords? That’s cute.”

Something about his tone irked Ven. What was this guy’s deal?

Yes, me too! I thought their reunion would be so awesome, but it was a joke. Literally. There was no sincerity to it. There was no emotional music or heartwarming dialogue. It was simply played for laughs. Ventus was like...oh hey, you’re that one dude I hung out with for five minutes. Cool. And Lea was just confused why he looked identical to Roxas. I got the same impression that you did. Lea was so close to Roxas because he reminded him of Ventus. Because he WAS Ventus! I mean, it’s just so obvious that the reason Ventus was the only one of the wayfinder trio to meet Lea, was because he was going to develop a relationship with Axel later. Duh!

“You scared of losing? C’mon. Hope you’re ready.” Ven could probably wipe the floor with this scrub if he used a real Keyblade—but he was probably supposed to use the wooden one.

“Yeah! Now we’re talkin’!” Lea’s enthusiasm was weirdly contagious.

“You’re gonna be sorry!” Ven shouted. Lea leaped gracefully into the air by way of response. Ven launched himself upward at nearly the same time, and the two met in battle.

Huh? This is kind of…fun.

While the sound of the wooden sword and toy discs clashing wasn’t exactly epic, he could still feel the force of each blow.

It had been a while since Ven had fought like this against something other than Unversed.

“Not bad, Ventus!” Lea said with a smile. Off to the side, the blue-haired boy—his name was Isa, if Ven recalled—observed them in exasperation.

After KH3 first came out, I made a post on Reddit saying I didn’t like how Roxas and Ventus were kept as separate people because they felt like the EXACT same character, and it would have created a deeper relationship if Ven had his memories of Lea from BBS AND his memories of Axel. And the amount of of people outraged that I could even say such a thing was hilarious. As if there weren’t countless hints in the story that Roxas had Ventus’s heart...

“Yeah! That’s more like it!” Axel leaped up and struck with the chakrams, then gave Roxas a flying kick that sent him sprawling.

Axel was far, far stronger than the Dusks. But there was something off about him, Roxas thought as he scrambled to his feet. What was it…? What made him seem so strange?

“Time to heat things up!” A gust of flame shot forth from Axel’s hand, knocking Roxas back again. “Ha-ha! Nice, Roxas!”

Axel was laughing—why was he having so much fun?

Actually, fighting him was kind of fun.

Roxas was so fed up with all these things happening to him, and he couldn’t stand this Axel guy spouting all this weird stuff with his smug know-it-all face—and yet, fighting him like this wasn’t all that bad.

What’s going on? How am I having fun fighting him? He’s obviously holding back against me… Why? What does it mean?

The fight scene from KH2 was made to be similar to Ventus play fighting against Lea. Roxas felt like fighting Axel was familiar, even though they never fought before. His heart remembered Lea. The original plan was for Lea and Ventus to rekindle their friendship after Ven got his memories as a Nobody back. All of these characters were supposed to be connected! Not segregated into trios that barely interact with each other. That defeats the whole purpose. 

Terra has a special connection to Riku, Lea has a special connection to Ventus and Kairi due to Roxas and Xion, Ventus has a special connection to Sora and Kairi, Kairi has a special connection to Aqua. The Xehanort Saga should have felt like one cohesive story. The characters meeting should have felt like destiny and all the trios would overlap. 

BBS and Days were sister games being developed at the same time. Ventus meeting Lea was the foundation for the way Roxas/Axel was written in Days. Terra and Lea had a special connection because Axel picked up his toy sword and took on the “big bro” role for a while. Ventus and Isa had a special connection because Roxas found the WINNER stick and took on the role of “best friend” for a while. But now it feels like Days is a self-contained story that has almost nothing to do with BBS and vice versa. 

“I get it… then I guess we may as well fight!” Roxas cried out, leveling the Keyblade.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way… Roxas!”

Axel launched a flying kick into Roxas. The force sent Roxas smashing into the ground.

I haven’t fought Roxas like this before. And, the Roxas I know isn’t the kind of guy who’d be knocked down by something like that.

“Let’s burn!”

Flames erupted from his hands. Taking the hit directly, Roxas was thrown to the ground again.

“Hahah! ‘Sokay, Roxas!” laughed Axel.

Maybe it would have been better to have fought him like this sooner.

Roxas stood, and came at him with force. Axel caught the Keyblade with his chakrams and forced it down, Roxas’ face in point-blank range.

“How like you, Roxas!”

I’m sure that Axel remembering meeting Ventus and having a play fight with him made it impossible to eliminate him. He met Ventus when he was still Lea, an innocent happy kid who liked to make people smile. Destroying that “stray puppy” would be betraying the very essence of who he is deep down. It would have destroyed him. That one single meeting in BBS made Roxas and Axel’s relationship much more interesting, since Axel was always so nostalgic for the past. Roxas was a relic from his past, as much as his memories of Isa were. Only Roxas was the exact same kid from his memories. Isa became corrupted and Norted. Axel was trying to recapture his lost friendship with Isa through Roxas. It’s why Roxas was such a perfect “replacement” best friend to fill the void of Isa’s absence. Axel clung to Roxas so much because he was everything he wished Isa still was.

I really don’t like the direction the series seems to be going with Roxas now. When he returned in KH3, he was talking in this fake sounding lower pitch than he did in Days or KH2. Like we’re supposed to see him as some edgy hardass now, LOL. Yeah, whatever. His reunion with Lea felt hollow in KH3, because it was just put in for pandering. There was no emotion behind it. There was hardly any dialogue, and what little there was had no substance. There was no mention of the WINNER stick or anything. 

It’s sad because Roxas and Axel’s relationship actually had a lot of emotion and meaning in Days, due to its connection to Axel’s childhood. And it was because Roxas was a sweet innocent kid, and NOT an edgy hardass. In KH3, I felt nothing when RAX reunited, unlike the scene where the wayfinder trio reunited. A reunion like that shouldn’t happen in the middle of a battle. TAV reunited after their fight. RAX’s reunion felt like it was inserted into the story at the last minute, which I am sure it was. It’s why Kairi and Isa got the shaft and why Nomura needs DLC to explain why the hell they’re even there in the first place.

He didn’t really understand the “icing” part, except that it was ice cream. Like Winner, though, it meant something special. So when Axel came back, Roxas would use the freebie and get him some “icing.”

Roxas left Axel when he was very angry. They ended their friendship on pretty poor terms. Roxas never ever understood Axel, not even a little bit. When Roxas was sitting on the clock tower, he was feeling regret over how he left, which I found so sad. You need TIME to repair this friendship. I would have preferred that Lea reunite with Ventus at Yen Sid’s Tower because we would have gotten a FULL SCENE of them talking and working out their differences with open communication and honesty. This is something Axel never had with Roxas. 

Roxas was thinking too much to taste the ice cream, and before long, it was almost gone. The stick was blank.

There was a lot he’d left unfinished with the Organization—and with Axel. But at the moment, the thing that concerned him the most was the stick that said Winner. Why had he held on to it for so long? He should have given it to him sooner.

Ventus could have learned who Lea really was for the first time. Not the facade he wore all the time. Axel was a person who laughed and smiled all the time to hide a lot of pain, which Roxas (and half the fandom) never realized. Only by learning this could their relationship move out of the babysitter dynamic and grow into something more mature and satisfying for both of them. Lea could finally be himself and not have to hide all of his suffering under a Mr. Rogers mask. This is exactly why I think Lea isn’t able to have a true identity in the sea-salt trio. He has to hide who he really is. Imagine a friendship where you try to solve all of your friend’s emotional problems, but you can never talk about your own. That’s what Axel’s relationship with Roxas (and Xion) was like.

Other than being told today’s mission, I didn’t really do anything yesterday. Maybe in reality it’d even be okay to have called it a day off. A holiday…

“Didn’t get to go in the end,” muttered Axel, and he got up.

Today I have to destroy Roxas. I cannot betray the organization.

From the little shelf at his bedside, Axel took a white envelope, and looked at it vaguely for a while. Putting it in his pocket, Axel got up off the bed and left the room.

A short while after Axel had entered the room, Saïx still hadn’t said a word. As he typed away at the keyboard, working, the pallid light radiating from the monitor gleamed on the already pale Saïx.

Maybe, this is the last time I’ll see Saïx, too.

Thinking, Axel looked at the seated Saïx’s back.

“We’ve known each other for a pretty long time, haven’t we?”

Ignoring Axel’s words, Saïx continued typing on the keyboard.

“Say something. Have you even thought that maybe I can’t erase Roxas?” Axel said, in a playful tone, and Saix finally looked up. “It’ll be all right. ‘Cause I’m tough.” Axel puffed out his chest.

“How stupid,” said Saïx, and for a moment he smiled.

How am I supposed to buy that Roxas and Lea are such close friends if Roxas never knew anything about the real Lea, his past, or his inner turmoil? The reason why he always lied to him, and why he didn’t come with him when he defected? I mean, come on. There was so much more potential for a genuine and meaningful friendship between Lea and Ventus. Lea could get to know the real Ventus. He wanted to bring back Terra, who was Norted. If he retained his memories as Roxas, he would have learned that Xemnas---the guy he promised Xion he’d defeat---was actually body-jacked Terra. We should have seen his reaction to that. I also think Lea would remind Ventus a lot of Terra. They are both very protective and caring. The reunion would be so emotional due to that.

Lea handed over some munny and took the two cones from Scrooge, one of which he gave to Isa.

“It’s cold…,” Isa muttered as he took a bite.

“What’re you talking about? It’s ice cream; of course it’s cold. Got it memorized?”

“Salty, too.”

“But sweet!” Lea added, and Isa smiled a bit. That was rare for him. Well, eating ice cream together, talking about silly stuff, laughing together—it was just what friends did.

Wonder what he’s doing now—Ven, was it?

Ventus could really empathize with Lea and offer him emotional support for the first time. Axel only lied to him to protect him, like Terra would have. They would reestablish their trust. Their relationship would be a lot less one-sided. It wouldn’t have to be superficial and totally revolve around ice cream and small talk, either. Like Terra, Isa was a Nort. Ven and Lea could understand each other’s pain. They could develop a deeper friendship on a more adult level. 

Ventus could tell Lea the story of how he was abused by Xehanort. Then Terra gave him the toy sword that Lea picked up when they first met, which was his most treasured possession. And Lea could tell Ventus about his past, and how he took him out for ice cream all the time because of his memories of Isa---which were his greatest treasure. Instead of letting Lea’s friendship with Ventus grow and evolve along with his character, they chose to have Lea regress his development in order to maintain the relationship with Roxas (and Xion), which was relatively superficial and based on lack of communication and dishonesty. 

[nautiscarader]

Wendip Week day 6 - Wendy, you are the coolest person I know

(Ao3)

"Wendy, you’re the coolest person I know. You were brave, courageous, smart and funny, and as a result, it shouldn't surprise anyone that I have fallen in love with you. But the thing is, I have never stopped loving you. I in those three years I have met many amazing people, but no one comes even close to you.”

Dipper Pines read the message on the screen of his computer, desperately clutching his desk. He looked down, where he saw the familiar, green progress bar move dangerously closely from one side of the screen to the other. in his last act of desperation, he fell to his knees and begged.

- Please...

==============

- No, no, no!

Dipper grumbled under his breath, and just to be certain, pressed the Enter key again, which unfortunately never unpressed itself.

- Come on!

In hope, he kept smashing the key that only exhibited a fraction of the mixture of flexibility and sturdiness Dipper Pines was used to. It felt alien now, as if belonging to a completely different machine, and it was that feeling that made Dipper's morning so bad.

But Dipper was not one to give up easily. A moment later, the black keyboard was put on the desk upside-down, and with a set of screwdrivers, Dipper Pines proceeded to operate on his most important patient. Years of usage has worn the most important key, but Dipper still had some hope he'll be able to repair it. The prospect of having to substitute his beloved input device was too grim to even contemplate.

He cleaned the contacts. He isolated the mechanism and repositioned it.

All for nothing.

- Oh, dang it.

He muttered and slowly came to the conclusion that his favourite keyboard broke down, and as the manufacturer ceased to exists five years ago, there was little he could do.

- Uh, Dipper?

Mabel's voice brought Dipper from his state of mind. His sister walked into his room, finding him amongst his keyboard in pieces, all carefully disassembled.

- Eh, something wrong? - Yeah - he sighed - Can't fix it. I'm afraid it's gone. - Well... - Mabel started with a sing-song voice - I think I know someone who can help you.

A familiar figured appeared in the doorway (at least as much as he could fit), and Dipper's face brightened at once.

- Soos! I thought you were going to come next week! - Nah, dude. How could I not visit my favourite Pines twins while we wait in line for the biggest Comic Convention ever?

The husky man leapt towards Dipper and easily picked him up in a tight hug.  

- Seriously, though, we are forever grateful to your parents - Melody spoke appearing behind her boyfriend - The prices for hotels are astronomical! - Hey, least we can do for you, guys. - Mabel ran into Melody's arms. - Oh, wow, what's cooking here, dude?

Soos immediately spotted Dipper's desk filled with mechanical parts, and let Dipper explain his problem. After a solid minute of chin scratching and careful examination of the parts, Soos gave his verdict.

- It's a very old mechanical switch, Banana FX. - I know, they're not making them any more... - Dipper sighed. - Yeah, but maybe we'll be able to find some replacements!

A smile appeared back on Dipper's face, and the two did not waste any more time. A few minutes later, Soos and Dipper rushed downstairs and slammed the door behind them.

- Boys and their toys, am I right? - Melody sighed, as Dipper and Soos disappeared from sight. - Tell me about it. - Mabel rolled her eyes, treating Melody to a cup of tea. - Now, where was I? Oh yeah, most people think that all grappling hook guns are the same, but according to "Superheroine Monthly", the type of alloy really does make a difference...

==========

- This... isn't what I was thinking about.

Dipper expected Soos to take him to any of computer shops in the vicinity, or at least some sort of mechanics' shop. The two men stood in front of an alley, that even in on a bright, sunny, Californian day looked dark and gloom, as if something was absorbing the surrounding light.

- Don't worry, dude, I got this.

Soos made the first step into the unknown territory, and prompted Dipper to follow him. The deep and foreboding sense of dread filled Dipper to the marrow in his bones, but he clutched the carcass of his keyboard to his chest and ventured forward.

- 'Sup, dude. - Soos spoke suddenly, and it took Dipper a moment to spot what, or rather whom Soos was talking to.

A pair of yellow eyes opened wide at the sight of customers, followed by equally yellow teeth filling the mouth. The old-looking man stood up and pushed aside what Dipper thought to be just a piece of protective cloth, revealing a whole workshop with myriad of parts on trays and bags on display, all crammed, somehow in the small niche.

- Yeah, we have this keyboard to repair here and we need a...

Soos took a quick look around, closed the distance to the mysterious man and whispered.

- ...a Banana FX.

Dipper could swear the yellow eyes of the man glistened and turned golden for a moment. He dived his long, thin hand into the chasm made of parts, and a moment later, emerged with a small, equally yellow mechanical switch and handed it to Dipper.

- Sweet! - he spoke, forgetting temporarily the odd circumstances in which he acquired the item, but he quickly sobered up - Er, how much for it?

A wide grin appeared on the man's face.

==========

- Okay, this shouldn't be that cheap. - Dipper spoke to Soos as they walked back home. - I mean, five bucks? I was expecting to blow ten times more...

Still, Dipper was more than glad that the seemingly small, but significant problem in his life has been fixed.

- And, Soos, how did you know he's gonna be there? - Oh, we, the repairman, we have our ways... - Soos spoke ominously - Our community is well-connected, and we are trained in finding hidden symbols and signs on the streets... Also, he had a website.

Soos showed Dipper his phone with "Crazy Steve's workshop", instructing people to "go into the fifth dark alleyway from the boulevard, and walk precisely until you feel that someone is watching you".  

The very same afternoon, Dipper was more than pleased when his Enter key made the familiar clicking sound, and showed no sings of damage.

- Soos, you wanna play some games?

Dipper reached out to the guests of his house, having a very odd and quiet tea with his parents.

- Sure!

Soos replied and walked to his room, visibly pleased he can leave the awkward meeting.

Two hours later, Dipper cheered once again when his digital avatar defeated Soos for the tenth time in a row.

- Man, you got better over the summer. - Soos spoke, closing his laptop. - I barely got around to play. - Dipper spoke - I honestly thing it's the keyboard thing.

Dipper brushed the keyboard with his hand, as if thinking he'd be able to feel something underneath his fingertips.

- Yeah...

=========== Dipper's winning streak continued throughout the week, and he found himself defeating even the most skilled on-line opponents. Another revelation came to Dipper about a week later, once Soos and Melody left after their visit to the convention, when Dipper opened a long-abandoned programming project, and suddenly found a solution he wasn't able to spot for weeks. Line by line, the code filled the screen, and even though Dipper hasn't his the "compile" button for an hour, he somehow knew he hasn't made a single error.

Satisfied with the work he was finally completing, he reached for a can of Pitt soda and marvelled at the nearly finish deciphering tool he was making with Ford, enjoying the oddly satisfying clicking sound.

It took Dipper a solid minute to realise what was wrong with it.

The code was still being typed.

He dropped the can, and nearly shrieked when he saw the keys on his keyboard press themselves with tremendous speed, finishing each line way faster than he'd be able to, as if a ghost was sitting in his place.

- Wh-Wha-What's going on?

//Hello, Dipper.

The keyboard suddenly stopped, and a single new line appeared in the text file.

- Who...who are you? - Dipper asked, unsure if he should speak to his microphone, or type the words.

It seemed, however, the keyboard was fine with speech.

//I am your keyboard, or rather a switch in one of its keys. It's been sooo long since I've been put in one. Years!

- What do you want? Why are you doing this? - Dipper spoke in hushed voice, understanding how bizarre the him talking to a keyboard would look like to an onlooker.

// I want to help you. That's what I was designed for. it looks like you had a problem with your code, so I helped you.

Dipper scratched his chin for a moment.

- Er, listen. - he started - I don't have anything against you, but... me and my sister don't exactly have the best records trusting something that has been possessed... So...

//If you feel uneasy working with me, feel free to turn the machine off. After you saved all of your work, obviously.

The keyboard replied, rendering Dipper speechless for another moment. He'd stay in this state longer, if not for a single sound that announced a new mail in his messaging application. The photo of Wendy appeared in the corner of the screen, and it made Dipper's heart skip a beat. Temporarily forgetting the fact that he was talking to a living, thinking keyboard, he rushed to read and reply to her message.

"how's it going, Dip? Still doing nerdy stuff, like soos told me?"

Dipper was about to type the answer, but then the keys began pressing themselves again, and he remembered he wasn't the only intelligence in the room.

"Allow me to construct a suitable reply".

The message now appeared in a cartoony font of the messenger, instead of machine-like one in his text editor, but it wasn't any less eerie to see it appear out of nowhere.

- No! - Dipper quickly replied - That... that is someone important, I can't... I can't leave it to you.

"Of course she is" - the keyboard removed previous line and typed a new one - "Based on your previous conversations, it appears your are in love with her, and she shows some interest in you."

- What? - Dipper asked audibly - No, no way. Also, wait, did you read my messages to her?!

"Merely scanned them for keywords and sentences structures" - the keyboard continued - "Compared to the average teenager, she uses 25% more emojis in conversations with you, and makes fewer spelling mistakes. She also describes the activities you share with phrases containing the word <<love>> 36% more often than usual."

- O...okay. - Dipper spoke. - Still, I gotta reply myself, okay?

The keyboard removed the text it wrote.

"yeah, I guess. You know me" - Dipper typed - "So, how are you?"

But before he pressed enter, he pondered for a while.

- Hey, keyboard? You think this is a good reply?

"It can be made better"

And a moment later, a different one has been crafted.

"Yeah, I guess, I am doing my best to help others, you know me. And how is the summer going? What about your college applications? Are you still up for our streams tomorrow? I can't wait to see you again."

Dipper's eyes widened.

- Holy smokes, I nearly forgot about that. Good you reminded me.

The keyboard added a winking emoji at the end of the sentence. Dipper hesitated for a moment, and pressed the Enter key, sending the message. He didn't have to wait long for a reply.

"aww, you're sweet, Dipper".

But it was the heart emoji at the end of the sentence that made Dipper speechless. He looked at the keyboard, looked around as if to spot anyone that could judge him, and asked.

- Do you think you could... help me?

The keyboard already began writing a reply.

===============

For the next hour or so, Dipper chatted with Wendy, each reply of his enhanced by the keyboard. It turned out that ditching the upper-cases Dipper was so used to has resulted in even more emojis and reaction GIFs from Wendy. Every few minutes, the keyboard gave him statistics, and it looked like Wendy was typing faster and faster as well, enjoying their time more and more.

And with each phrase, calling Dipper "lovely", "funny" or "sweet", his heart grew and grew in size, and the sudden boost of his writing skill gave him nothing but confidence. But the idyllic feeling had to end soon, when he heard Mabel's voice from downstairs, calling him for supper. He looked at the keyboard and whispered.

- Okay, stop now. I don't want to mess anything up.

He replied with a short "see you later, gotta go for supper", and walked out of the room.

It took only a split of a second for the keyboard to erase the unsent message and compose on of its own.

=============

Dipper was in the middle of the supper, when he heard it. It was barely audible at first, as he was so used to the sound by now, but the clicking sound nearly made him drop the fork to the floor. Cold sweat appeared on his forehead and spread down his spine. Without wasting a second, Dipper ran upstairs, and unsurprisingly, heard the familiar sounds coming from his room. He looked at the screen, filled with longer and longer messages, and when he read the last one, his heart stopped.

"Wendy, you’re the coolest person I know. You were brave, courageous, smart and funny, and as a result, it shouldn't surprise anyone that I have fallen in love with you. But the thing is, I have never stopped loving you. I in those three years I have met many amazing people, but no one comes even close to you.”

His eyes scanned the previous ones. "He" talked about the days he spent thinking about her, and the movie and song collection he was building up for her, openly admitting he was in love with her.

- No, no, no, no!  Stop it! - he shouted at the keyboard. - Please...

"Why?" - the keyboard asked - "Don't you love her? Isn't this a part of courting rituals your species do before becoming a pair?"

- Yes, I love her, but... I don't want to tell her through instant messaging!

"65% of teenagers confess love that way nowadays."

- Well, maybe I'm not one of those.

"I'm sorry, Dipper. Based on my predictions, probability of you succeeding in this conversation is less than 10%."

And with that, the keyboard pressed the "send " button, and the green progress bar filled the screen in record-fast time. Dipper fell to his knees, staring at the floor, but he looked up when he heard a sound of the reply.

With some hesitation, he looked up, already feeling the familiar sense of dread and guilt swooping over him. His heart was already broken and his friendship with Wendy was severed once, he didn't want to live through it again.

But when he heard more replies coming, he looked up, and as his eyes scanned the messages, he realised they were not as gloomy as he thought they would be. His eyes widened, when he noticed more and more instances of the four-letter word he least expected to see from her, and he slowly rose from his knees.

- She... loves me?

Dipper jumped in place when his phone rang, dragging him from his half-terrified, half-ecstatic state. Somehow, he knew who was calling him, he wouldn't like either to leave it to just words on screen.

- Wendy! - he spoke - I'm so glad you called, I lo- - Dipper! You gotta help me!

Wendy's distressed, almost crying voice sobered Dipper up, as he realised something was wrong.  

- Wha-What happened? - My laptop's gone haywire! - she screamed - I came back from the shop, and-and it was typing on its own! And it was talking to you!

The same flood of cold sweat returned, covering Dipper's back. He looked at the chat window, and sure enough, "Wendy" was still talking to "him", telling him she loved him.

- Wendy... did you let Soos repair your laptop? - Y-yeah, how do you know?! - Okay, Wendy, something has possessed your computer. - Dipper explained - Not a virus, or malware, but... something alive.

"We just wanted to help you" - "Dipper" typed. "You humans are so slow with interactions. Bacteria multiply hundred times faster, and every second millions of processors are made by other machines." - "Wendy" added. "We can't just sit and watch." "We will spread, and soon humanity will don't have to worry about that at all."

- Wendy... - Dipper whispered to his phone - I know you've been saving up on this laptop, but... Look to your left.

Wendy Corduroy wasn't sure what Dipper was talking about, but when she followed his advice, she understood his plan immediately.

- Ready? - Ready.

In two different places, two cans of Pitt Soda were raised into the air and tipped, spilling its sugary contents between the keys of the keyboards, one external, one built. It took the living mechanisms a while to realise their delicate components are being flooded with sucrose, short-circuiting their fragile minds, and att he same time, two screens faded to black, silencing their mute voices.

- Is... is it over? - Yeah. - Dipper spoke, looking at his favourite keyboard, now properly ruined - I think it is.

================

- You know, if you think about it, it could have been cool! - Wendy's face on the screen brightened, as she reminded herself of the events of the past week. - I bet those thinking things could have helped with me with my homework. - Well, they have helped me. - Dipper replied - I've been writing this program, and it kinda wrote itself. Shame it got lost when I nearly blew the PC... - Come on, dude, you're smart, you'll be able to recover it. 

 A familiar, warm feeling spread over Dipper when Wendy complimented him, though at the same time, it brought back the uneasiness he though he had left behind a long time ago.

- Er, speaking of recovery...

Dipper blushed and shied away for moment.

- You-you haven't *read* any of the stuff those keyboards were typing between each other, right? - Er, no. - Wendy replied in equally abashed manner - Cos it was... It was junk anyway, wasn't it? Like if you let auto-correct write for you. - Yeah! - Dipper quickly reassured her - Predictive text, you know, based on what you already typed... and how often you type it... - Didn't people do that with old scripts of some shows? - Oh yeah, turns out they were exactly as repetitive as people remember them.

Dipper chuckled, glad the discussion moved towards movies.

- Well, glad I can talk with the real you, Dip. - Wendy smiled - Unless it's Mabel with your face deepfaked onto her. - No, I don't think it's possible in real time yet. Though she would do equally good job as the keyboard has done. - With what? - Wendy raised her brow. - Er, nothing! I mean, saying silly things! That's what Mabel is good at, isn't it?

Wendy chuckled.

Her eyes turned to the few printed pages of text lying on her bed. Deep down, she knew Dipper hasn't written all of it, but she couldn't quite put her finger on which of the confessions were his, and which were the machine's. She looked at the calendar and groaned. She still had two weeks until she finds out.

[lozza342]

OK everyone, I’m practically dying here. There is little to no content for IwaKin and I can’t keep this alive by myself. Help me hang in there, please!

I had a day off work today because I feel like death. I finished a big ol’ pwp IwaKin and you better enjoy it or I might actually die.

[NSFW] Starting NOW

Contains: Dom/sub themes, semi-public sex, deep-throating, cock rings, orgasm delay/denial, dry orgasm, light bondage, cock-warming, hair-pulling, breath play, implied humiliation kink and, of course, fluff.

They just like being daring. Also Kindaichi has the biggest praise kink ever, and might be a little bit of a masochist.

Businessman AU, because I like the idea of office sex and these two scream these roles. Please love them. I also added Ushijima as Iwaizumi’s boss, idk why but I love him also.

OH and if you do love them (or me, you can love me too if you want), send me an ask or private request! I do this for self-indulgence, but I can indulge others!

The screen blurred about a minute ago. He's staring at vague shapes of black lines on the monitor. His hands are stuck to the keyboard with sweat, unmoving.

"Kindaichi."

Snapped out of his trance, his head whips up to see his boss's one o'clock, and he makes a squeak of surprise. Really, he wants to bash his head on the desk, but he doesn't think it's appropriate in front of a man of significantly high rank in the company. "E-Evening, sir." He says, playing off the squeak.

It comes out more of a whisper than fully-formed words.

"Sore throat?"

"N-No, I-" Kindaichi's fingers curl, digging crescent-shaped into his palms. "I'm fine… Ha-" Gritting his teeth, Kindaichi takes a breath. "Iwaizumi-san isn't ba-ack yet."

The man in front of him frowns, extends a hand to Kindaichi’s face and in the moment, he can't even recoil from it.

The backs of his fingers are so cool, pressing against his sweaty forehead.

"You're burning up, do you need some water?" He asks, face contorting in concern. It's quite endearing to see that on Ushijima's face, but Kindaichi isn't able to think anything right now.

"No- No that- I'm OK, you don't have to do that," Kindaichi assures, hands up to placate him, "Thank you, but, uh, could you possibly… r-reschedule?"

Looking around to the office behind, as if Iwaizumi would pop out of nowhere, Ushijima hums. "When will he be back?"

"H-Half hour?"

Apparently not.

"M-Maybe quarter?" He corrects, eyes watering.

Better.

Ushijima makes a rumbling hum before nodding. "I'll come back in fifteen minutes." He says, turning and walking back out again.

Kindaichi keeps his composure for all of ten seconds while the door down the hall shuts behind Ushijima, before sagging into the chair and letting out a long, drawn-out moan.

Calloused fingers soothe his tense thighs in reward for what he just did, and Kindaichi lets his teary eyes close. Warm streaks of water drip down his cheeks as he lies back panting open-mouthed, uncaring if another person comes in.

Iwaizumi's tongue runs along the bottom edge of his cock ring. "You should get back to work, Kindaichi." Iwaizumi suggests, voice wrecked. Still, remarkably composed for someone just deep-throating him.

"Y-Yessir." Kindaichi moans, revelling in Iwaizumi's tongue a few moments more before Iwaizumi pulls back and leaves him with nothing.

Kindaichi knows when Iwaizumi 'suggests' something, it's best to follow it. So Kindaichi leans back forward, elbows on the desk, and begins typing. He can't quite remember where he left off, but in his immaculate record of keeping order, one slip-up couldn't hurt.

It would be Iwaizumi's fault if he double-booked, or agreed to something Iwaizumi wanted to avoid.

Like a meeting over lunch with Oikawa and Matsukawa.

Good afternoon both,

I can confirm he is free between twelve and two on Friday. I shall let him know you expect him at your office just after midday.

Kind Regards,

Kindaichi Yuutarou

PA to Iwaizumi Hajime

Well, it might be important…

The sound of typing seems to satisfy Iwaizumi, and he sinks back down on his cock. Expert tongue curling around his shaft and sucking silently. Kindaichi can't seem to understand why he enjoys it like this. At least the other way around, he's the one being pleasured.

Still, Kindaichi can't really complain, even as Iwaizumi bobs his head, sinks all the way down and swallows around him, as he's forced to come dry while his hips are held down. He tries to chase further orgasm, a satisfying one, body bucking violently as Iwaizumi continues teasing him, but it gets him nowhere.

Oversensitive, Kindaichi whines, bottom lip bitten while fingers remove his ring, then begin to pump him with purpose. Kindaichi slumps over his desk, head resting on crossed forearms.

"Hah-Hajime- Too- Too much-" He stutters between whimpers, but Iwaizumi pinches his thigh softly.

"We're at work, Kindaichi."

"S-Sorry, Iwaizumi-san." He corrects, earning him a tongue swiping over the head of his cock slowly but surely forced to harden in Iwaizumi's hold.

"You're doing well, Kindaichi. Would be a shame if someone else walked in though, don't you think?" Iwaizumi said with humour hidden beneath mocking.

Honestly, Kindaichi couldn't care less anymore. It's not like he's the one who started it. Iwaizumi would have all the explaining to do. Why he's casually sucking off his PA when he should be in a meeting with his own boss. "He'll be- twelve minutes."

"Too long…"

Kindaichi yips as his chair is pushed backwards, and quickly leans away from the desk to sit back in the chair, gripping the armrests. "What are you-"

Not even bothering to wipe his spit-shined lips, Iwaizumi leans up to catch Kindaichi's own, thrusting his tongue into his mouth like he's wont to do when he wants him to shut up.

And you bet Kindaichi obliges, words dissolving in his mouth as he lets Iwaizumi take it over, tasting thickness of sweat. Iwaizumi still holds him in his hand, deft fingers sliding through spit and precome just to hear the wanton noises in the back of his throat.

After the initial shock, Kindaichi slowly relaxes his muscles to fall limp in the chair, gasping and moaning between wet, messy kisses. Satisfied with the result, Iwaizumi pulls back. "Tell Ushijima I'm back."

"What-"

"Call him."

"I-Iwaizumi-san?" Kindaichi asks unsurely, biting his lip, timid gaze following the movement as Iwaizumi stands.

"Return me the favour. Meetings are dreadfully boring." Iwaizumi grumbles, almost petulant, "Especially with him."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Kindaichi nods "O-OK…"

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, like he was expecting him to refuse, but grins all the same. "Ah, but better put this back on."

Kindaichi licks his lips, eyes wide and nodding like a car ornament when he spots the ring slung around Iwaizumi's middle finger. Maybe he's a little far gone, pressure in his cock maddening. Although he needs to come, the idea in his head is appealing.

However, when Kindaichi reaches for it, Iwaizumi pulls his hand away. "I can do it. You call Ushijima."

The metal is still warm where Iwaizumi teases it over his cooling skin, running the ridge from tip to base while he kneels back down to get closer. "Yessir." He says breathily, leaning forward to pick up his phone and speed dial Ushijima's number.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Even the mere sound of him saying his greeting makes Kindaichi jump, but it could also have been the way Iwaizumi sucked on the head of his cock, flicking his tongue over his urethra teasingly.

"Yes?" Kindaichi squeaked, until his entire body thrummed hot, face tingling. "Ah! S-Sorry, Ushijima-san," Iwaizumi was grinning around Kindaichi, trying not to laugh at his expense. "I- ah- just wanted to let you know, Iwaizumi-san is b-back now."

His teeth are gritted hard as Iwaizumi pulls off with a small pop, replacing his mouth with the cock ring and sliding it down in a fluid motion. Kindaichi tries not to make a noise, covering his mouth with his hand as tears drip over his cheeks.

Thank you, Kindaichi-kun. I'll be there in five minutes.

He hangs up without waiting for an answer, as is typical of Ushijima, and the clock is now ticking. Shakily, Kindaichi struggles putting the receiver down, smashing it into the phone awkwardly.

Kindaichi's heart doesn't need to go any faster, but it does, pounding rapidly against his ribcage so hard his chest aches, but he loves it. The adrenaline pumps through him and leaves his mind dizzy. "On his way?" Iwaizumi asks too casually as he pushes Kindaichi's chair out again and stands up.

"Y-Yeah, five minutes."

"Great." Iwaizumi says with a smile more devious than warm. "We should probably get you into my office, then."

"Yeah." Kindaichi agrees dumbly, though his limbs don't move. Iwaizumi takes it upon himself to grab his hand and pull him out of his chair. It accompanies a peeling sound, his sweaty skin off the leather, and Kindaichi grimaces.

"You wanna put something on?"

"N-Nah, let's just-"

Five minutes.

Ushijima is pretty - make that scarily - accurate with timing. Kindaichi's years as Iwaizumi's PA taught him that.

Among other things…

Kindaichi still somehow manages to trip over his own feet when Iwaizumi pulls him through into his office - conveniently just opposite his desk, through glass doors so he can communicate wordlessly when he's bored. If he's significantly bored, he'll summon Kindaichi with a 'come hither' motion, never failing to send a chill up his spine.

Iwaizumi steadies him with hands on his arms, soothing the skin there. "Careful, Kindaichi." He says in genuine concern, somehow completely unperturbed by Kindaichi's half-nakedness. "Stay here, I need to wash up." Before Kindaichi can even affirm, Iwaizumi pecks a kiss to his lips, fingers running through his hair where he pulls his head down. "I love you, by the way."

"I-" Kindaichi begins to say it back, but he can't quite get there when Iwaizumi presses a finger to his lips.

"I know, Yuutarou… I know. You don't have to tell me."

Kindaichi simply stares after him as Iwaizumi dips out to the washroom, the sound of soft breathing falling dull in the empty air. "I want to."

Maybe he's good at showing it, but he still wants to say it.

"I love you too, Hajime."

The ridiculousness of standing bare-ass in Iwaizumi's mostly see-through office doesn't get to him until he looks down to his feet curling toes nervously in the carpet and his raging cock stares back at him. Sighing, Kindaichi spins around once to take in the familiar office. It's a little dizzying in his endorphin-addled brain, but he always feels a little dizzy in here.

A shelf stacked high with books to where even Kindaichi struggles to reach, two low cushioned chairs around a small coffee table and then, of course, there's Iwaizumi's desk towards the back, in front of a single slim window running from ceiling to floor, semi-circular around his desk chair. His computer screens are on one side, leaving the rest free for paperwork (and Kindaichi, when Iwaizumi has to work late and gets pent up).

Three chairs surround the outside for small meetings, almost as high-end as Iwaizumi's own.

It's a cushy office. Sometimes Iwaizumi says he despises it, but Kindaichi knows he likes it in here.

"Hey, I got you a water." The sudden appearance of Iwaizumi makes him jump out of his skin, whipping his body around at the voice. "Woah, chill."

Chill. "You gave me a heart attack!"

Iwaizumi looks at him and chuckles uncontrollably. "Such a drama llama!" Iwaizumi scoffs, and they both stop dead.

"Hajim-ulf!"

Iwaizumi shoves a glass of water to Kindaichi's mouth roughly, face falling serious. "I never said that."

Taking the glass, Kindaichi giggles softly before turning his face serious also, flicking his eyes to avoid the glare Iwaizumi sends him for it. "Yessir." He says, and downs the water pretty quickly, not missing Iwaizumi's gaze on his Adam's apple.

The chair creaks when Iwaizumi sits down in it, hands quickly undoing his tie. "Come here." Iwaizumi's tone along with the motion of his fingers has Kindaichi complying instantly. Iwaizumi undoes Kindaichi's shirt buttons one by one and slides it off his shoulders with ghosting fingers, kicking it under the desk out of view. Kindaichi turned around when motioned to and placed his empty glass on the desk. "Precaution." Iwaizumi tugs his hands behind his back, and Kindaichi realises.

"Oh…"

"Yup." Iwaizumi says with a grin, tying Kindaichi's hands together with his tie, tightening it enough that Kindaichi wouldn't be able to break free. "I hate that tie anyway. Oikawa bought it for me."

A blush crept up Kindaichi's back and Iwaizumi kissed the flushed skin.

"You look beautiful today." Iwaizumi says softly, running his hands down over Kindaichi's hips and over his exposed ass. He teases a thumb near his entrance, but slides his hands down his thighs soon after.

Iwaizumi could probably watch Kindaichi all day - preferably naked - just… doing normal things. Like cooking and writing and handiwork. Muscles moving under tanned skin stretched taut. Yeah… That's a fantasy he'd gladly stay in forever.

This was fine for today.

All Kindaichi could hear was Iwaizumi's belt clinking as he unbuckled it, then the zip as he undid his trousers. "Turn around." He ordered, physically turning him around. "Keep your mouth on me, steady. Let me use it, and if you're good I'll give you a taste of my come."

"G-Got it." Kindaichi stuttered, flushing red.

"Good." Iwaizumi breathed, slipping his hand in his boxers and pulling his cock free. He already looks ready to blow, but still pushes Kindaichi to kneel beneath his desk with a rough hand in his hair. "All the way, now."

The back of Kindaichi's throat flares automatically at the familiar sting of his scalp, Iwaizumi’s hand pulling him to line up with Kindaichi’s mouth. When it’s where he wants it, he pulls him down to set a brutal pace.

Well, as soon as Ushijima gets there, he can't really do anything but subtle. This is his only chance to fuck his throat like he means it. And mean it he does, biting his lip hard to stop from moaning too loud. Grunts make it through every time the head hits the back of Kindaichi's throat, but they're muffled easily.

"Kindaichi…” Iwaizumi breathes, thrusting his hips in rhythm in his chair. The meeting at this point is of secondary importance. He hasn’t had chance to look through his notes yet. At least he’s very good at winging it. Hyper-aware of the wet sounds of Kindaichi’s mouth stretched around him, Iwaizumi wishes Ushijima would take his time every once in a while.

It’s only when he sees Ushijima step past the inside window of his office that he knows he’s out of time.

It doesn’t stop him pressing Kindaichi down and coming hard down his throat with no warning. Ushijima seems perplexed by the absence of Kindaichi at his desk, but soon turns to see Iwaizumi.

Kindaichi wants to swallow, wants to cough out the feeling of come sliding down his throat.His eyes sting with watery tears, and his hands struggle against Iwaizumi’s tie. Yet Iwaizumi’s hand doesn’t move, fingers curled tight in his hair. Then the sound of the office door opening hits his ears and dread settles in, piercing into his abdomen. It’s soon overtaken by thrill, though, as Iwaizumi’s hand softens to stroke his hair. He can almost hear Iwaizumi whispering “good boy” into his ear with the softness of the gesture, and even strokes his fingers over Kindaichi’s cheek.

“Good Afternoon, Ushijima.” Iwaizumi greets, like his softened cock isn’t currently surrounded by the wetness of a mouth, now comfortably fitted around half of his cock, wet lips fastened in a ring and tongue flat.

Kindaichi's so perfect, Iwaizumi can't focus on anything else even as he shakes Ushijima's hand with the one previously gripping his hair. He's entirely sure it's sweaty and greasy but Ushijima doesn't seem to pay it any mind as he sits opposite him.

Slowly regaining some rational thought, he gathers some paper together and subtly nudges the mouse of his computer to wake it up. Even though these meetings are regular, talking over stat reports and checking company figures they couldn't otherwise discuss efficiently over email, today Iwaizumi is more enthusiastic. With his post-orgasm energy, he settles easily into the meeting and is actually quite… comfortable.

Even as Kindaichi gets restless, mouth watering and lips uneasy, Iwaizumi only has to slide his hand under the desk once to adjust him, and pat his head in thanks before continuing.

For Kindaichi, it feels like hours, face streamed with drying tears and saliva. He's only about halfway down Iwaizumi's cock, and as it's slowly hardening again, Kindaichi can’t help but suckle. While he’d never stimulate Iwaizumi while he was oversensitive, like this he’s glad to help out. It goes against his earlier orders, but from the sounds of things, the meeting’s over.

If he gets punished for it, well, he gets punished.

It comes quicker than expected, when Iwaizumi shoves his desk chair forward without warning. Startled, Kindaichi pulls back in time not to have the thing shoved back down his throat, but a hand shoves him down afterwards anyway. He can feel Iwaizumi’s disappointment in the roughness of his tug back off.

“Would you like me to see you out?” Iwaizumi asks, pulling his chair from beneath the desk, hands shaking on the armrests as he pushes himself up.

“I can do that. Thank you, Iwaizumi.” Ushijima says and Iwaizumi sits back down, heart pounding in relief. Instead, he bows his head and hands over some of the notes. “I take it you sent Kindaichi-kun home? He looked unwell.”

Desperately keeping a straight face, Iwaizumi nodded. “He, uh, I think he had a sore throat… among other things…”

“He told me he didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi breathed with humour, “Well, he always tries to play things off as nothing. He doesn’t like to cause trouble.” Smiling fondly, he watches Ushijima nod, thankfully taking that at face value.

“It’s good that you keep an eye on him.”

Kindaichi blushes hard under the desk, unimaginably warm. It’s just the right side of claustrophobic that he's fairly comfortable, even if his arms ache and his knees hurt.

"After all, where would I be without him?" Iwaizumi says with a grin. "Not coming or going, that's for sure."

Ushijima laughs softly. It's a rare thing for him to do, and it leaves a warm spark in the office. Kindaichi's always found him so hard to read, he's never known if the guy even likes him half the time, so the revelation hits him hard. "I hope he feels better tomorrow."

"Me too! I have a busy schedule tomorrow… I think." Iwaizumi tosses in humorously. Ushijima's lips twitch, but other than that his expression doesn't change.

"I'll be taking my leave now." Ushijima says with a nod of his head, slipping the notes into his own pad and walking out.

Both Iwaizumi and Kindaichi breathe simultaneous sighs of relief, hearts beating too fast. Even a few seconds after he's gone, they stay unmoving.

"Do I have anything after this?" Iwaizumi asks, slumping back in his chair.

Biting his lip, Kindaichi closes his eyes and thinks. "You're taking me on a date tonight."

"What?" Iwaizumi asks, head dipping to catch Kindaichi's shadowed face under the desk. "Shit- Sorry I-!"

Straight face turning into a smirk, then into a grin before Kindaichi starts laughing, opening his eyes to look at Iwaizumi's horrified ones. "You didn't forget. I just decided."

His tone sounds self-satisfied, and clearly Iwaizumi can't let that slide, taking Kindaichi's shoulders and pulling him out from under the desk. "You don't decide shit." He says, though it's less composed. His giddiness is hard to hide from Kindaichi, sounding way too excited.

Oh, he'll definitely get his date.

Iwaizumi pushes his hips against the desk that rattles some at the force. "I take it I really don't have anything after this, then?"

"No sir."

"Good. Then no-one should be coming by." Iwaizumi confirms with a grin as he stands up to take off his belt, then peeling down the rest of his trousers and boxers to his ankles.

"It doesn't mean-" It doesn't erase the possibility that someone will come around.

Iwaizumi doesn't care, as is apparent when he cuts him off with a kiss, forcing him to bend down to accommodate when Iwaizumi sits back down again. The fingers of one hand soothe the back of his neck. The other touches cold metal to his skin there, slides something suspiciously flat and cool around it. When Iwaizumi lets him pull back, sliding his hand from around Kindaichi's neck down his chest, the metal hangs there.

"Iwaizumi-san…"

"Well, you did disobey me, didn't you?"

Kindaichi bites his lip, dropping his gaze and nodding guiltily.

"What's that?" Iwaizumi asks again, head tilted and lips in a frown.

"Yes sir. I disobeyed you."

The solemness of his response, his face of mess with dried tear tracks, his mussed and unruly hair, the contortion of his shoulders, the belt hung loose around him against flushed skin. It's truly the look of his greatest fantasy. Kindaichi Yuutarou is his fantasy. All his. "Then you don't mind if I put you in your place, do you?"

"No sir." Kindaichi says, licking his dry lips and vibrating in arousal. He knows he looks a mess, he knows he's flushed red all over. Even with his gaze low he knows Iwaizumi is studying him. He hopes he finds him adequate. At least, he feels degraded like this, he desires Iwaizumi's words to tell him that. Reassurance that he's enjoying it too.

Because Kindaichi is definitely enjoying it. He always enjoys doing his best for Iwaizumi.

No words come, not yet, just hands on his hips pulling him forward roughly after ample surveyance. Kindaichi stumbles forward into Iwaizumi, arms trying and failing to flail out to keep him steady. He makes a noise of discomfort as his face hits Iwaizumi's shoulder and knee bashes the chair.

"I know you're sorry, baby, but what boss would I be if I let you off?" Iwaizumi rumbles into his ear before pushing him back again. He knows Kindaichi doesn't mind being moved like a ragdoll, doesn't resist when Iwaizumi grabs hold of each end of the belt around his neck and threads the leather through the buckle to pull it tight. "Heh. Look at that, it suits you."

Kindaichi's entire body burns. The leather presses mildly uncomfortably against his Adam's apple, and every movement of the belt held in Iwaizumi's hand is felt against the sensitive skin on his neck. Hell, he can feel his heartbeat against the leather, harder the tighter Iwaizumi pulls.

"You wanna hold something, Yuutarou?" Iwaizumi asks, chest heaving with his breaths suddenly heavy. Never had he thought he'd see something this erotic. Right in front of him to touch, to feel, to do with as he pleased.

Kindaichi's gaze flicks to something on his desk. It's a stress ball that he bought for him not long after he started. Seeing he fidgeted a lot, Kindaichi had bought it and sheepishly handed it to him without a word one morning.

Honestly it was one of the moments Iwaizumi recognised as falling a little bit more in love with him for. 

Since they became close, he’s had Kindaichi to relieve his stress. Just by giving him a smile sometimes, or sticking his tongue out in bouts of playfulness through the window, even occasionally unintentionally distracting him in a meeting. He tends to gesticulate a lot when he’s on the phone, for example, and sometimes Iwaizumi can even hear his cheerful tone by the way his mouth moves.

And of course, more recently, he’s had this. Kindaichi like putty in his hands. A life-sized stress ball.

Iwaizumi’s happy to take the much less human, much less generous stress ball for use here, blushing at the memory as he places it gently in Kindaichi's hand. "Now take your punishment." The next movement is anything but gentle, curling the belt twice more around his hand and yanking Kindaichi forward. He’s careful not to get ahead of himself, assuring he doesn’t cut off Kindaichi’s air, searching Kindaichi’s wild eyes for any signs of unease.

When he sees none, he curves his free hand over Kindaichi’s side, to the curve of his back and down to his ass. Kindaichi’s lips tremble just in front of his face, desperate to touch his.

“If I hold you still, I want you to sit in my lap.” Iwaizumi says, keeping any emotion from his voice. Kindaichi nods an OK and Iwaizumi sets his strong hands on Kindaichi’s hips.

It’s a little awkward with no arms, but Kindaichi manages to keep his balance with Iwaizumi’s help to step through the spaces in the arm rests, then lower himself onto Iwaizumi’s lap facing him. He keeps the stress ball firm in his hand the entire time, fingers digging in as if it would help keep his balance.

“Good boy.” Iwaizumi says calmly, rubbing his hands over Kindaichi’s soft flanks. He edges him a little closer, their cocks close to touching. Conscious of the amount of time Kindaichi’s spent erect, he silently vows to make it as quick as possible. It’s not like they do this sort of thing all the time. Leaning over, he slides open the middle drawer of his desk - the most inconspicuous one - and rummages for the nondescript bottle of lube he keeps there.

He’s barely ever used this one, as opposed to the one he keeps in his bedside table. While they haven't moved in together yet, haven't even announced being together yet, Kindaichi sleeps over his more often than not nowadays. Iwaizumi doesn't like him having to catch a train every day, especially working late. It's much easier to drive him home to his and seduce him with good food and charming smiles.

He lathers the lube over his fingers and slides them over the crease of Kindaichi's ass, the man jolting at the cold. Iwaizumi doesn't take his eyes off of Kindaichi's, using his free hand to tilt Kindaichi's face to look at him whenever he looks away. Eventually, he doesn't try to dip away again, uneasily holding his gaze. "You're cute when you're embarrassed. I ever tell you that?"

Kindaichi blinks slowly, giving himself time away from the intensity of Iwaizumi's eyes before he has to look back into them. "N-No sir." He says, biting his lip when Iwaizumi's first finger breaches him.

"Ah, but you're always cute, Yuutarou."

The thighs on his tense as he thrusts in his finger, already teasing his walls, twisting and curling with purpose. Kindaichi shuts his eyes again, moaning quietly between them. Adding his second finger, slower, careful, Iwaizumi watches his face contort. In the light, the tear stains on his face reflect beautifully and Iwaizumi can't keep his eyes off of him.

Breaths ghost over Kindaichi's neck. The band around it moves a little, and the sound of strained leather lets him know Iwaizumi's holding it again. He tugs it slightly, tightening the loop around Kindaichi's neck and reducing his air flow. Small chaste kisses are littered over any stretch of skin they can, sending little tingles over his body while it undulates with the rhythm of fingers.

As hard and desperate as he is, Kindaichi feels great like this. He'd happily let himself be carried on this feeling forever. Being held on the brink by his lover, so deep in love and lust he can't imagine being apart right now.

Fingers slow and the body beneath Kindaichi shifts, readying itself.

"I love you, Yuutarou." Iwaizumi says in a breath, sliding his hands down over Kindaichi's upper thighs and heaving him up. In response, Kindaichi pushes up on shaking legs, alleviates the need for Iwaizumi's strength, only guidance as he positions him. One of his hands leaves, and Kindaichi opens his eyes to see Iwaizumi lining his cock up. "Sit."

Kindaichi obeys, steadily lowering himself to be seated entirely on his cock. It fills him completely and wholly, and they both moan in unison. So close, their hearts beat opposite each other in their chests, and even then, Iwaizumi pulls him closer with an arm around his lower back.

"Good boy." He says again, and Kindaichi blushes as his body responds, unconsciously shifting forward. His cock is pinned against Iwaizumi's shirt and he feels every fibre of it, fire where the buttons press flush against his sensitive skin.

He so badly needs to come, but the pressure around his neck increases as his body moves, so he wills himself to still. "Haj...ime." Kindaichi moans, and Iwaizumi kisses his chapped lips. Once. Twice.

Iwaizumi carefully thrusts upwards, leaving Kindaichi to bounce in his thighs. He's heavy, but Iwaizumi can take it. Neither of them are going to last long anyway. He continues a rhythm, capturing Kindaichi's mouth in a kiss when he can, swallowing one or two needy moans in the process. "You can ride me if you want. You're doing so well." He says softly, hand on Kindaichi's back rubbing a thumb up and down in encouragement until Kindaichi gathers the courage to move too.

It's easier like this. Iwaizumi can feel the tension inside Kindaichi from his thighs likely burning from the movement. It's great, and has him bucking harder to feel more, slap of skin echoing in the room. Kindaichi towers over him when he's heaving himself up, so Iwaizumi tightens his hold on the belt a little more, forcing him to stay lower.

Kindaichi's breathing is still shallow, still leaves him dizzy, and even when it cuts off entirely, he keeps going, earning him a hand running through his messy hair, pulling him down so his head rests on the top of Iwaizumi's chair. "You can… stop now." Iwaizumi heaves, kissing his wet cheek and letting him breathe again.

The air is thick hitting the back of Kindaichi's throat. He drinks it like it's water and sinks down onto Iwaizumi's shoulder, body flagging against him as his heart rapidly pumps oxygen back into his muscles. It's like he can feel it, his blood pressure slowly evening. It's like coming down from a high, and Kindaichi can't help but sob.

He wants to cling onto Iwaizumi, but his arms won't move. Nothing to do but moan, Kindaichi lets Iwaizumi take over again, hand stroking his hair.

"Shh, baby. You're OK." Iwaizumi soothes, teeth gritted as he thrusts up desperately. The sheer trust Kindaichi has in him is dizzying in itself, let alone the desperation to continue pleasing him. "You did so good."

More than made up for his intentional slip-up earlier.

That's why Iwaizumi slides his hand between them and grips Kindaichi's cock hard in his hand. 

Kindaichi wails into his shoulder, body jolting heavily at the sensation. Iwaizumi's fingers curl around him and begin pumping hard, thumb swiping over the head of his neglected cock with purpose each time, drawing him to shudder and moan. "Yuutarou. Come with me."

The heavy weight trembles in his lap, pitiful whines escaping at his neck.

"Need more incentive?"

The feeling now familiar, Kindaichi readies for his airflow to cut off, body kicking into hyperdrive. His pulse races against the leather, his breath catches and he can barely make a sound.

Iwaizumi's hand tightens around him, twists as Iwaizumi thrusts upwards and comes inside him with a shout, own head falling against Kindaichi's shoulder. Despite the lack of blood flow - or perhaps because of the lack of blood flow - Kindaichi comes too. It's powerful, and Kindaichi feels like he loses minutes in bliss, somewhere light and airy, where his lungs fill with nothing but Iwaizumi.

When Kindaichi stills against him with even breath, Iwaizumi slumps down, over his concern. "That was so fucking hot."

He gets no answer from Kindaichi for a few seconds, but when aftershocks rattle Kindaichi's body, he sighs. "Yeah."

Kindaichi wants to sleep, he's so drained and tired. Even uncomfortably sat on Iwaizumi's softened cock, this is where his wants to stay.

Except Iwaizumi has other plans. With soothing fingers, he slides the cock ring off. It's one swift, smooth motion to keep stimulation to a minimum. Kindaichi still lets a soft sob out at the pain it wrought. He lets go of the belt and slowly undoes that, too, noting the red lines where it's dug in.

He secretly hopes they don't fade too quickly.

Lastly, he undoes the binds of his tie around Kindaichi's wrists. As expected, it's stretched a little and crumpled beyond use, and when he brings Kindaichi's wrists in front of him where he can see, they're also red from pressure and rubbing.

"I'm gonna have to get you up." Iwaizumi says, and even with Kindaichi's protests, he gets the drowsy man to stand, then promptly spins them around and sits Kindaichi in his chair.

Kindaichi grimaces at the wet feeling in his ass, and that he's currently leaking said wetness onto Iwaizumi's expensive chair, but Iwaizumi doesn't seem to care as he pulls up his boxers and trousers and doing them up.

"I'm getting water for us both. Don't move."

"'m not gonna move." Kindaichi says tiredly, leaning forward to pick up the stress ball he'd been holding the entire time and moulding it much gentler in his hands.

When Iwaizumi leaves for the bathroom, Kindaichi sits up a little, runs fingers over his neck. His throat burns slightly, and it still feels weird to swallow, but it feels… nice. Almost like he still has the leather around him.

Kindaichi places the stress ball neatly back where it was last, and waits for Iwaizumi to come back, pushing through his door with his back, two glasses of water in hand. Placing one in front of Kindaichi, Iwaizumi slumps into one of the opposite chairs and puts his feet up on his desk, downing the water like it's his first beer of the night. "It's getting late. Do you still want that date?"

Kindaichi lazily fingers the ring of his glass, sipping the water carefully and savouring the way it cools and soothes his throat. "Could we…" Kindaichi pauses at the rumbling of his voice, taking a few more sips. "...Just go back to yours?"

Iwaizumi's face flushes at the way Kindaichi's voice sounds utterly wrecked, biting his bottom lip.

"I-Is that OK?"

OK?! "Yeah, yes! Let me get my coat." Iwaizumi says, jumping out of his chair into action.

"H-Hajime?" Kindaichi asks timidly, wringing his hands. "Could you get my clothes?"

Feeling his body flush in realisation Iwaizumi nods. "Sure thing, champ."

-

Neither of them expect anything after their exhausting day. In fact, while they made out multiple times over that evening and confessed their newfound favourite kinks, it simply ended with them curled around each other with promises of patience and trust. (Maybe a collar for Kindaichi.)