#there's no reason to keep it in my drafts to collect dust right?

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 

 I won.

 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 

 But fighting is all I know. 

 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 

 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 

 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 

 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 

 Shit, me too. 

 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 

 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

 Great.

 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 

 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 

 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 

 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 

 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 

 Me. But that’s besides the point.

 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 

 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 

 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 

 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 

 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 

 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

 I’m getting hard.

 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 

 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 

 Either way, I’ll act on it.

 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 

 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

 “Why are you still mad at me?” 

 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 

 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 

 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

 “Probably because you love me.”

 “Probably not.”

  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 

 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  

 And she knows it. 

 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 

 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 

 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 

 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 

 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

 So—I take advantage of it. 

 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 

 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 

 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 

 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 

 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 

 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

 “Shit, angel. I will.”

 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 

 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 

 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 

 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 

 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 

 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 

 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

 “Please.”

 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 

 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 

 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 

 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 

 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 

 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 

 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 

 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

 I’m about to come. Hard.

 But I need her to come first.

 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 

 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 

 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 

 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 

 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 

 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

[nanabrainrot]

I don’t know if you could write a story about this, but what do the other Salamancas (or just Lalo’s family) think of his wife ? Ty <3

I’ll write abt the first time everyone went “wait ur married.” like two years into the marriage it kills me

SORRY FOR THE WAIT tumblr ate this draft literally 4x and then my connection would blow the moment i hit post look at me im on my knees. here's some blurbs about the moments they feel for hmmc though and then author notes about the general consensus on the poor thing

cw for hmmc and lalo's relationship imbalance

A Moment in Passing: Salamanca Style

A Moment with Marco and Leonel

The emotion is pity.

The candy slips in your hand and the grin crosses your face and it’s the smile that Marco realizes this was wrong. The problem with being a Salamanca is you knowingly do things that are wrong or at least ambiguous. But this feels strange, Leonel commented in the car. You had been his wife for five years now, only seen in passing and looking more content every time which was unnerving. When they had first met you, you were shaking in the courtyard of Lalo’s brand-new hacienda style house. You were nervous, like a dog that wasn’t socialized yet (and you were). The fridge was stocked with healthy things on the left, ingredients galore, and beers on the right. You ate portioned meals and drank water and juices. Lalo did not allow for much more.

After five years you suck on the lollipop with so much childish joy. A brief spark in your eyes. Lapping at it once, twice, before mumbling, “Thank you guys.” It is blue raspberry. You suck it, glancing around nervously if Lalo were to catch you taking an earthly pleasure that was not him.

It feels like pity for twenty-four years. Even when you greet them with a smile and hang off Lalo’s arm. It is watching a dog on its chain of 14 karat gold.

A Moment with Tuco

The emotion is confusion. It is like wondering about if a dog loves its life.

You had cried that day, much to Lalo’s dismay, when Tuco had come around and the boys were drinking too much. Firing shots at beer bottles, you startled from the kitchen. Two plates of birria sit there on the island, in the pretty Tuscany-styled kitchen. You peer around the corner with a wet face, with wet eyes, with a watery gaze. Lalo comes to you, sighing and rolling his eyes as Tuco watches, brows cross with confusion. His wife of three years is scared. He had seen you in passing, cooking, before scurrying to another room, tugging Lalo’s sleeve and not making eye contact. It was tender, the moments, but it looks worse when he sees it up close. Your glazed eyes are so trained on him, refusing to meet Tuco’s eyes.

You wept every time Tuco came around, he noticed after the third visit, probably because Lalo drank when he came around more than usual. The drunken ministrations and come-ons from Lalo in front of his cousin made you sniffle in embarrassment, still newlywed to him after those three years. It escalates every time he rolls around and the memories collect dust from the late 80s, the 90s, and today in 2003.

You don't weep when he comes around, not today. Lalo is plastered, sipping off the decanter like it's water, and you sit unmoving on his lap as the men chatter. Unacknowledged, as common as if Lalo had a pillow on his lap. Your head lulled into his shoulder, Tuco wonders when the grew to love Lalo.

Pulling out of the driveway, the emotion is wariness. Wondering if a dog so disciplined is bound to react one day and bite.

A Moment with Hector

The emotion is gratefulness, wariness, it's a sinking sadness in the belly.

When he met you twenty some years ago, he scoffed. There was no real reason to keep a wife after they had a baby and according to Lalo, you weren't even fertile so there was no reason to keep you. But it was twenty-four years since Lalo wed you, twenty-two since Hector met you in the hacienda-style house all silent and shaky. You loomed around corners like you were an intruder despite the house being built specifically for you.

You were focused on a vase, sitting by Hector and Lalo as they spoke. He wondered how long it would last, your silence, as you scribbled into the paper. A vase. You had drawn a vase full of faux poinsettas as they spoke on life or death matters, on business, on betrayal, and the rest of every other ungodly topic and you sat in a sundress doodling a vase. Sheepishly, you showed Lalo and, beside him, Hector scoffed. A fucking vase.

The emotion then was agitation, but today it was wariness. Something adjacent to gratefulness that your silence lasted twenty-four years in Casa Tranquila, Lalo toting you over the border like a rich woman's purse dog. Doodling today, in your sundress, dragging the shitty nursing home marker over the paper as Lalo consoles him with a grin, slipping liquor from his flask into the shitty drink. Scribble.

"And we'll get you home right, tio?" he grins. Clink.

A marker on the table, and it's silent with no drag of a felt tip on the paper but a slight noise. The wobble of thick construction paper as it's moved through the air. A vase. You drew a fucking vase again.

The emotion of agitation looms again, but then the gratefulness surges just a bit. Never a word means never a word of pity left you, your sheepish grin the same as when he could walk and talk. A good dog is a quiet dog.

-

tldr everyone knows their relationship definitely has awful undertones because its lalo 1 and 2 hmmc is extremely withdrawn and quiet. shes usually likened to a dog like in companion dog due to the way she follows lalo and his orders. she didnt meet the family for two years because lalo had her isolated in a ranch home training her to be a meek and mild wife. everyone feels bad for her but also like its lalo and since family is first everyone turns the other way on the topic

[alvfr]

can i ask how long have you been writing? it blows my mind how good it is. you are very gifted and we’re all so lucky to get to read your works for free and i really hope you publish something big one day

also do you have any tips for new writers? i’ve been writing intermittently for some time but i still find it so hard not to compare myself and get bummed out or discouraged when there’s writing like yours out there 💔

Ps: I’m loving all the snippets of everything you’ve posted. keep up!

Oh, probably forever? I mean, I was making up stories before I could write and made small books by hand before I could type and I remember using my grandfather's clunky old laptop to painstakingly write my first "real" stories after I started school.

I started writing in English when I was probably 12-13 years old though and I'm 30 now so it's been a while. I posted some stuff on Quizilla back in the day (which oddly wasn't fanfic, but original stories), and I posted my first story on FFN when I was around 20 years old I think?

I go through periods of time where I write a lot and then I don't write at all for a while, mostly because real life gets in the way or something drains my creative energy. Like I couldn't write more than one sentence at a time the first year after I had my baby. Not because I didn't have time, but because the baby took all my focus and I did not have anything leftover to be creative.

Anyway, I think my best tip for new writers is just to write a lot. Like allow yourself to practice, to be bad, to experiment, to learn - just like you would any other hobby, you know? I have posted more than 1 million words on AO3, but I probably have more than twice that much that I'm never going to post that's just collecting dust in my dropbox. And that's fine! It's just practice!

Right now, I'm trying to re-learn how to write in my own language again (Norwegian) because it sounds awkward and weird to my ears and that is probably because I haven't written in Norwegian since I left high school - I need to practice.

Also, be careful comparing your first draft with someone else's finished product. I don't spend too much time editing my fanfics (because it takes the fun out of it and I never make progress), but even I re-read my writing a few times and change phrasings here and there to make it flow better. I personally like to read everything out loud (making funny voices during dialogue) to catch if it flows how I want it to flow.

Another tip is to read a lot. Preferably published books, but fanfiction too. I'm a bit weird here because I can't read fanfiction for the fandom I'm writing for and that is just because I know I will start to compare myself to others and be discouraged, just like you mentioned. Both when it comes to writing style and level of engagement. I mean, some fics have 1000s of notes or kudos/comments and I start wondering how bad my writing is because it doesn't get the same response. At one point, I almost wished someone would post a bad review of my story because it would have felt better than the complete radio silence I received. Truth is, I think engagement is mostly related to coincidence. Summaries, tags and format matters, of course, but after that it's just down to luck. If you're lucky, your story will find its readers and if you're especially lucky, those readers will let you know that they liked it :)

I'm wary of reading nothing but fanfiction though because we fanfic writers tend to get influenced by each other and use a lot of the same expressions, I think. There's a reason I never have characters smirk, chuckle or hum anymore because I'm still traumatized by how much I used that when I started writing. It's bad enough with how much eyebrow quirking and raising I manage to add in a single story. Also when it comes to characterizations, I try to stay true to the source material, but it's easy to mistake fanon for canon when you read too much of the same stuff.

Sorry, this got super long. I'm just sorry to hear that you're discouraged, especially because I am the exact same way when it comes to comparing myself to others. We are our own worst critics, but I highly encourage you to keep writing! I cringe when I look back at my first stories, but I would never have improved if I hadn't written those stories in the first place :)

[sangoqueenkoko]

i "hate" ocean stuff!

some angst, some fluff

wendigoon/reader - BECAUSE THERE ISN'T ENOUGH ANYWHERE-

MAIN MASTERLIST | OTHERS MASTERLIST

.

Summary: he hates the ocean, but.. what happens if he meets you? who.. is a resident of the ocean? (Why I thought of this is beyond me)

Warnings? DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE A FEAR OF THE OCEAN‼️ SORRY IF I RAMBLE, IM TRYING TO MAKE MY WORKS LONGER!

"you're a questionable swimmer..."

"...oh no"

this is has inspiration taken from a fan art.

this shit is amazing- DO YOU SEE IT? ahem anyway-

DON’T READ IF YOU HAVE A FEAR OF THE OCEAN!!!!

can't stress that enough, i will not be held responsible for your potential triggers!

THIS THING DISAPPEARED FROM MY DRAFTS FOR A WHILE IT SCARED ME I THOUGHT I DELETED IT OR I POSTED IT ON ACCIDENT WHEN IT WASN’T FINISHED-!

1.5k words-

He has said over and over again in his videos that he absolutely hates the ocean. His hatred was an understatement, if you ever asked him what one of his number one fears was. If that makes sense at all. He has made it very known to his audience about his fear, and they support him for it.

He knows not to push himself.

In his video where he transitioned to him at the ocean, you could actively see the existential dread and uncertainty in his eyes, the look that he does not want to be there. Every little sudden unfamiliar movement nearby or further away, he's skittish. He jumps easily.

He knows not to push himself.

Unlike now.

He found himself at the oceans edge, he wanted to somehow conquer his fear. But it was too much. It overwhelmed him. It restricted him. Made his palms sweaty. His breath laboured. Thinking about what is in the massive body of water and how deep and unknown it is, it unsteadied him. Even the thought of that something could be nearby him. Watching his every move.

The sudden feeling of the cold water hitting his feet scared him. It was unnerving. He was unnerved. The wind blew the cold breeze into his face, it made him shiver. Even if he did have more than one layer on. His fear made him shake. Cold and fear was not a good mix at all.

He decided to take a walk, with a light, of course, to calm himself down as well as warm himself up. He sighed just before he heard something in the water. He aimed his light in the direction he heard it, yet he walked back up the sand to keep away as if something was coming for him. He heard the water lapping again, this scared him more, he moved back so sudden he fell back, gasping for breath as his fall took the air out of his lungs, he kicked his feet to move himself back.

He had enough. He got up and quickly dusted himself off as he walked back up to the top of the beach. He could not handle the cold and fear any longer. He wanted to go home. Away.

He sat in the car with the heating on. His hands in front of the air vent which was warming up. He took some shaky deep breaths, eventually becoming more steady and collected. He was sort of curious to know what made him scared. But also did not want to know, because it could be a shark, or worse, whatever that 'worse' thing could be. He looked out the window, back at the ocean. Only to see nothing but darkness, hearing the waves crashing in the background. Shuddering at the thought, he shook his head and started to make his way back to where he was staying for a while. Away from the water. Away from the fear.

He would not go back to that place. Especially that area. It left him wondering. He wondered what it was. He had to distract himself, think about something else.

So what is better than thinking about your greatest fears?

Researching them! Because that's what he did. He researched what it could have been, even if it kept coming back as reasonable answers, like normal sea life. He kept thinking out the box. If it was anything mythical he's researched in the past, it's very unlikely it's true. Because mythical creatures don't exist, right?

Right?

Well we don't know. The ocean has barely been explored.

That is what he kept thinking of. It made his mind wander.

He eventually fell asleep on his phone while looking at research. Lets just say that he's getting the very much needed rest from today.

A few days later, one morning, he felt... relaxed yet... decent or Okay. As if what happened a few days ago was some sort of a dream. But he didn't dream it. It felt like a thing of the past for him. Except that he had no energy to even get out of bed this morning, he looked for his phone. He fell asleep with it again. It was on the floor. He tried to turn it on. Dead battery. Sighing he sat up and put it on charge.

That day he decided that he would continue with working on his fear. But in the daytime where he could actually see clearly what was around him.

And boy would today be a day he would remember.

Because it was odd that when he got to the ocean-side, barely anyone was there. He sat on some rocks by the water watching the distant sea. The tide was out so that it didn't work him up. Good.

Everything was Okay in his mind. Then the water started to lap again. He gulped. Then came some noises. His nerves came back.

Then he saw something break the waters surface. Scales. They were shiny.

Pretty.

Then he saw the end.. of a tail? Shaking his head, he tried to think of a rational explanation. 'A fish? Stuck in shallow waters? Can't be' he thought to himself. He tried to convince himself that was the case before- 'hair??' He wasn't even in the sea himself and he felt like he was drowning.

Never mind himself for the moment, he was convinced someone was drowning besides himself. And his instincts was to jump in and help. Despite his fear, a human life was more important. Especially if said life is in danger.

Fear aside, he summoned all his bravery and courage to actually try and help this supposed person. Yet his vision was obscured by bubbles and all of that. The shimmer of the light reflected on the scales of whatever dashed by him. Whatever it was, it was not comfortable with him nearby. And much to his surprise, he went deeper than he ever thought.

To the point that he had to try and keep himself by the surface.

Then he saw the thing that spooked him for days, but yet caught his eye.

You.

He was baffled,.. yet intrigued. Like it happened all in slow motion.

You looked gentle with the eye contact you two briefly held, but he knew how unpredictable the ocean is he doesn't know your real strength and what you could potentially do to him.

But the peace and tranquility of this moment was soon shattered by the fact that he remembered that he wasn't like you, you could breath underwater, he couldn't. And once that reality soon set in, he panicked while trying to get back to the surface. And one of the rules about being underwater, especially in the ocean, is to not panic.

Which is what he did.

Your gentle side recognised this and instincts kicked in, you had to help him. You quickly swam over to him and grabbed his arm and pulled, you had never been up this close to the surface so you weren't so sure about helping him seeing as he is from unknown territory for you. Pushing him up towards the surface, he soon went through it. You heard muffled coughs and gasps come from the stranger as the coast approached.

Once he was there and gathering himself and his energy, he looked around to get familiar with his surroundings once again. Looking at the water, all he saw the the bridge of your nose and up. Your eyes piercing his soul. You would not allow yourself to be seen by other humans. But let alone one already. You saw it as a bad omen. To your kind and them.

No words were exchanged between you two the whole time. Mainly because you found yourself fascinated by him and how.. he works, as you had already gathered that he could not breath under water like you could and was not the best of swimmers.

Today you learned so much more about him than you did the other day, when you accidentally scared him. Yet fear in others was a new emotion that you had witnessed and began to learn about. Did you feel bad for them? You.. didn't know. Did you show it? No.

Not caring about the way he currently looked, he walked over on his knees towards you slowly. You looked up at him, keeping your head positioned the same as before. You both maintained eye contact once again. He knew that mermaids were a myth. But he also knew that the oceans were barely explored, so that it was a possibility that they existed. And they do here.

He slowly held his hand out towards you. You moved you head out the water more, to the bottom of your neck. Hesitant, you would slowly extend your hand out to his. They ever so slightly touched.

He recalls your hands feeling soft and smooth from when you helped him out the water. As well as now. But then, he didn't know what caused it, but you immediately retracted your hand, you narrowed your eyes, pupils back to slits like a cat and dove back into the vast body of water. It splashing back at him.

The sudden splash of water made him realise,

he forgot about his fear of the ocean for a while.

And, to him, that felt...

good.

this was fun- may write more- you never know

ehe~ :)

13.1.23 edit: AND. MY FRIEND TAGGED ME IN A TIKTOK, AND SHE SAID IT REMINDED HER OF THIS

AND THIS IMAGE IN IT REMINDED HER. AND ME TOO AAAAAAAA

look at this precious bby

[zuucc]

MATH | MORE THAN A VANCOUVER SUNSET: THE PREQUEL SERIES

Summary: What happened when Mat and Emma were first placed together in their grade twelve math class. 

Author’s note: I found this in my drafts and thought it would be a shame for it to just sit there and collect dust. Also, it is not yet a series.

Word count: 900 

“Hey,” Mat greeted his cousin Caroline as he walked by her on his way to the back of the class room where he’d spotted a team mate. His eyes lingered over the girl sitting next to her, her eyes closed and her jaw resting against the palm of her hand as if she hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before - her eyes opened at the sound of Caroline greeting him back and Mat caught a little smile forming on her lips before she was out of sight. For some reason that put a smile on his lips as well.

“Barzal, huh?” Emma teased Caroline, leaning into her as if to give her a push but she was too lazy too, her eyebrows raising to complete the look.

“He’s my cousin, ew,” Caroline rolled her eyes, not just at Emma’s ridiculous suggestion but also at the fact that everyone seemed to think he was hot and that him saying hey was a big deal.

“It’s not a illegal?” Emma tried, never giving up on a joke before she’d pulled it out to the very end.

“And this isn’t Alabama either,” Caroline shot back just as their new teacher entered the room and they both grew quiet. It was the first day of grade twelve and Miss Lee was known for being a real hassle to deal with - Emma had visibly cringed when she saw her name on her schedule.

“Listen up, you will be assigned seats and you will stay in those seats for the rest of the school year,” Miss Lee started and Emma’s eyes widened, her words waking her up as anxiousness set in for who the she was going to have to spend every single math class with for next two semesters.

“At the front,” Miss Lee begun, a list in her hand as she used her other hand to point at the two desks that were pushed together by the window - “Mat Barzal and Emma Anderson.” Emma’s eyebrows raised again, and before she could think too much about how she’d been placed next to the hockey teams resident hot boy, she had to roll her eyes as Caroline pushed into her in the same teasing way as she’d done herself after the same boy had walked by.

“Hey - Emma,” Emma said, sticking out her hand for Mat to shake when she reached the desk where they’d been assigned. Mat grinned.

“I knew that - I’m Mat,” he said, quickly adding that he knew it before Miss Lee had said her name. Emma chuckled, kinda awkward but also kinda forcing herself not to be just that. He was hot, there was no denying it - she just had to fool herself into thinking that she didn’t think that he was down right beautiful.

“Well, Mat, I hope you`re good at math, cause I sure isn’t,” she said nonchalantly as she finally sat down on the chair next to him, pulling at the hem of her summer dress in order to keep things somewhat appropriate. She didn’t tell him that she too knew his name already - that was a given. Mat huffed, a hushed laugh not far behind as Miss Lee was still assigning students their seats.

“And here I was hoping you could help me,” he shook his head as if he was disappointed, making Emma elicit a laugh that he decided right then that he wanted to hear more of. It was something about it. It was intriguing, really - it somehow sounded both cute and sexy at the same time.

“Well, you got the wrong gal,” she grinned, her light as feather laugh and easygoing smile soon fading as the teacher had her turning her attention away from him again.

Mat’s attention stayed on Emma though, his eyes lingering over her side profile - taking in how freckles were sprinkled across her nose and cheekbones, and how her thick, dark hair was effortlessly gathered into a messy knot at the back of her head in order to keep her hair away from her neck during this unbearably hot august day. In just the same fashion, his eyes trailed slowly and mindlessly down her body - over golden shoulders and the daisy covered black dress that barely reached mid thigh when she was sitting down. He thought to himself that it was no way that dress was within dress code, but he was also sure that he cared just as little as she did about that matter.

When the first work sheet of grade twelve math was laid on the desks before them, she picked it up immediately and looked at it with squinting eyes and Mat definitely looked more at her than at the assignment. She turned to him with a smile on her lips, a quieted laugh escaping her throat as she shook her head in disbelief.

“This sure is gonna be fun,” she said, the statement dripping with sarcasm and Mat just smiled painfully.

“Yeah, for sure.”

«I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Bye Mat,” Emma said as she swung her tote bag over her shoulder. He liked the way she said his name. The first math class of grade twelve had flown by for some reason.

“Yeah - Bye, Emma,” he smiled a little to excited as he watched her walk away - stunned as his eyes followed the swing of her hips. For the first time he found himself looking forward to the next one.

[bh-writingdump]

Zeek's Freaks series

Scale

[1st draft]

Ezekiel stumbles into the fae holding area. Nobody would come here this time. Not even that demon. She’d stay far away. Yes, she’d stay away.

The thought of Peaches being the reason for her swearing off coming to the labs fills Ezekiel with a warmth. At some point, they sat down. Rewriting theory after theory of why an otherwise peaceful captive would lash out.

The demon expressed no sexual or emotional interest. There had to be another reason. Another glorious reason why the lamia known most for hair pulling and curling up in a ball most days would tear off a chunk of the demon’s skin, of course, she hid it but that didn’t mean she didn’t see it every morning. She still quaked ever so slightly passing by the lab.

For once, she feared for her life for once, the hunter became the hunted.  

Something tugs at his shirt

Ezekiel whirls around. Why was he leaning against the enclosure? Why would he let himself be so careless?

Soft pink eyes lights swaddle him in their warmth. Oh no, nonono. Ezekiel didn’t put on protective glasses.

For whatever reason, Peaches holds up zir hands. “s’okay. jut worried. You were sitting there a long time.”

“More like an hour.” Mauve pipes in “what? it’s not like I can ignore your sniveling babbling about demons and what not.”

He was talking? Shit, that’d be on film. This-this could be used against them and if the demon found out.

Ezekiel scrambles to his feet, typing in the code six or seven times before it finally opened, fleeing the labs.

* * *

The following morning several colleagues pass him by. The fae containment room door looms over him. It eats up any flowing air creating a stagnant place of dust and stale magic, each time the door opens, adding to the smell of unwashed bodies.

[replace glover with Peterson]

From the door, a familiar face, Glover. He glowered at them. A massive sponge size imprint on his face. Though, upon seeing Ezekiel, a sinister smile takes over.

“Partridge, just the man I was looking for. Andrews needs a clean scale sample from Subject 09671 by 13:00.”

“From Peaches? Ze isn’t in any test groups.”

“Pff! I don’t need to justify myself to you.” On his way by he adds, “It’d be a shame if she found out how you’d been visiting your favorite freak every night, wouldn’t it?

“Your powers of persuasion truly are a thing to marvel at, Dr Peterson.” If You’ll excuse me, I have patients.”

Glover leans in, so close, it takes all of Ezekie’s self control not to slam into the nearby wall to get space. “See, I bet you cuddling and fucking isn’t.” They hold up their phone to a particularly compromise position.

“That’s clearly not-“

“Your right. could be anything and we’d never know.” He pushes the sponge hard enough to soak Ezekiel’s shirt, a stream of water sneaking into their briefs. “Thanks, zeek~” He spits the word.

Ezekiel lets the sponge hit the floor with a squelch. Panic and rage rise and mix in equal parts. “I wish you luck next time, Peterson. Don’t worry, I’ll help you out this time.”

“Funny thought, I told Andrews you’d be handling my hands on collections going forward.”

“You can’t do that.”

Peterson keeps walking.

If Ezekiel did push back that meant talking to the demon again. If they spoke to the demon, that meant,… more.. Their vision blurs and distorts a moment before coming back into focus.

Nope. Not again.

Ezekiel looks down to the sponge, tossing it in the trash, they enter. The cool pray of the air cleaners sends a shiver up their spine.

Would Peaches bring up yesterday? They fiddle around with magic of sucker in their pocket. Hopefully this would make an adequate distraction.

Soon as Ezekiel enters, one of the fae hoots. “Look Peaches! Yer joyfriend!” A chorus of cackles fills the cells. Peaches presses against the class. “guess the cum sock isn’t coming back, is it?”

Ezekiel opens their mouth to just let that sit.

Peaches chuckles. “someone got ahold of his sock but I’d love to know what’s bouncing around your pretty little head for theories.”

What has the world come to.

“Good to see you too..” Ezekiel holds up their clipboard high enough to regain composure.  “Peterson informed me you..” the note says assailed him with a deadly weapon. “a sponge is hardly a weapon.”

“That’s what it was. Didn’t get a good look. What? you worried about him?” ze ducks to eye level. “Last time I checked, he was the one trying to descale me.” the heat from Peaches’s breath fogs up the glass.

Standing a little straighter, Ezekiel lets the lollipop roll along the clipboard but judging by the way Peaches watches their     every move, it seems greater negotiating tactics may be required. “Would you like me to go over the procedure step by step?”

“You’re doing it? Hmph, guess you’re just like the rest.”

Could Ezekiel refute that? Afterall, Ezekiel merely being here not reporting this is a flagrant approval of their conditions. Even if the plan of their freedom are in motion, does it justify pretending to go along with this? For the time being, Ezekiel is just as bad as Peterson, aren’t they?

“I’m afraid I can’t stop the operation but I can delay it if you’d prefer. The words slip out from Ezekiel’s mouth. It’s idiotic. This outcome would further solidify Peterson as a friend in the demon’s eye and put them in the hot seat. But any other course of action makes them want to puke. “I have several tasks that will keep me busy for several hours, I could do it then? It’s one scale. This candy was made by local coven, losts of magic, it should easy your symptoms after.”

“Should?”

“I’ve.. I’ve done some reason and tested it on myself. Flesh wounds, deeper than what you’d experience. While it can’t heal it scar and all, it can stop the bleeding and the worst of the pain. Ezekiel slips the lollipop as coveretly as they can, bopping into the cell.

Peaches is quickl to take and hook zir magic into Ezekiel.

Zir free hand traces where Ezekiel’s through the glass. Though, the tension in zir brow hardly inspires confidence.

“No restraints.”

Ze lets go.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”  

* * *

Setting: lunch time, lab

Peaches scratching at zir arms, a little pile of dust covers zir tail.

E: ready?

Peaches backs away

E: I have twenty minutes to complete the procedure.. it’ll take me .. a minute to explain. The rest can be spent… working up to it if you’d prefer.

P: you’ll wait?

E: delay or we can do it now. I can delay as much as 20 minutes.

Ezekiel types in the code.

P: there’s other tests

Ezekiel: there ones are to clean the wound. A balm to promote healing, etc. You don’t have to take those.

P: ….  *skeptical*

E: Has anyone dressed your wounds before?

Ezekiel notices the bandages previously on Peaches’s arms discarded in the corner.

P: were they supposed to?

Ezekiel makes a note of it rather than venting that anger.

E: Yes, yes they were.

It’s so basic. You’d even dress a dog’s wound. What is wrong with people? You’d met Peterson before everything changed. He seemed, obnoxious but nice enough. He looked after his nurses and rarely made a mess for the janitors. How can you just do that?

Peaches slithers around Ezekiel. “aww, are you worried about me, toots sweet?” ze whistles.

“Clearly. You’re my patient. It’s my job.”

“Your patient?” ze flicks zir tongue out while saying it.

“Hardly necessary- would you give me some standing room. I’ll fall otherwise.”

The moment Peaches’ gaze diverts from theirs, Ezekiel knows what’s coming. “Ask, for the love of God, just ask.”

Ezekiel tenses as a hand on their arm pauses. Heavy breathes, Ezekiel murmurs, “I’d like to make this operation as painless as possible but-“

Peaches cocks zir headto the side. “I just ask?”

Ezekiel nods, only relaxing once the hands were away. “verbally or nonerbally. Then you can have me.

Peaches cheeks flush pink. “I like the sound of that.”

“For a hug. Please, remove your mind from the gutter.”

Arms open. Ezekiel steps without a second thought toward Peaches. Before Ezekiel can blink, Peaches curls around them until all they can see is a wall and Peaches’s face. “Sorry sweets, know how you get about PDA.”

Ezekiel’s hear beats as fast as a freight train. Footsteps rush by. Ezekiel holds their breath. When they pass, They realize Peaches had been petting them the whole time.

“Did something happen last night?”

In an instant, Ezekiel’s throat closes up. “Irrelevant.”

The intent crashes over them, forcing them to relax their muscles.

“You Said to tell me anything that would negatively affect my health or a task for fixing.” Ze rests zir head on theirs, pulling them flush to zem. “that wasn’t the first time you slept by my door. It’s almost like you trust me.”

Heat creeps up Ezekiel’s neck. “the dark can play tricks on you.”

“It’s too bad your hair glows like a mushroom in the dark.”

Ezekiel lets out a sigh, letting themself rest against Peaches’s collar. “Once you’re free, don’t expect a New Years Card.”

P: But you were gonna send me some?

E: I was until just now. usually I send them well wishes and to offer a check in

P: because you don’t care?

E: precisely.

P: you’ll have to hand deliver them instead

E: in your dreams.

P: fine. I’ll live in your backyard.

E: I won’t have one. Too much work.

P: your pots

E: a 20 foot lamia in my pots. I see nothing going wrong with that.

P: me neither

Some minutes pass in companionable silence. Enough so that Ezekiel regrets breaking it. There’s still 10 minutes. It can wait.

P: just do it.

For the first time since they started, Peaches allows Ezekiel some space, still confined between the wall and Peaches but enough.

Peaches hands the basket of supplies.

E: not until you eat your candy. It takes a minute to activate

Peaches keeps watching, not saying anything. Something clicks. “you’ll stay?”

E: for a little while.

P: promise

E: baring physical injury or—

P: demons?

Ezekiel nods

Peaches relaxes, hands setting on your back.

E: this will hurt. A lot. I’ll need you to remain still but it should be a relatively quick procedure

Peaches closes zir eyes. “tell me about your dy.”

“It’s not very interesting…”

“doesn’t matter.”

Setting up the pools, it feels familiar somehow. “You’ve seen me most of the day. this morning I did go hunting for columbine seeds. it’s near the end of summer. When I came back the neighbors in the floor above me were exercising this morning.”

Ezekiel sets the clamps on the chosen scale. “They also decided on making it my problem.”

Peaches trembles against them, bones clattering.

“’They came down this morning screaming that I reported them. I’d told them a billion times not to jump before 8 but miraculously another neighbor reported it to the nurses. What makes it even stranger is that they exercise in these massive fur suits, one an electric mouse and the other a dinosaur with it’s tail on fire”

“Wouldn’t it get hot in there?”

It’s then while Peaches is distracted, Ezekiel yanks it out. Peaches doesn’t make  sound. Zir phallanges dig into their shoulders. It doesn’t take long for Ezekiel to realize from stabbing if Peaches doesn’t’ let go they’ll turn into swiss cheese.

“There. there… all good. Ease up. Back ow.” Ezekiel wheezes as all the pressure leaves their shoulders as peaches nestle zir face into the nape of Ezekiel’s neck. Ezekiel gasps. Not nearly as loud as the sobs and hiccups coming from behind them.

“H-how much l-longer?”

Ezekiel’s stomach flips. 4 minutes but the demon will just have to wait  little longer. “Plenty. Don’t worry.” Ezekiel pats zir side awkwardly.

“Don’t go.”

“Not going.”

The scale weighs heavily in the sample bag.

Peaches is missing others too. No reason to do this. Other ways to test magic. But if Ezekiel said no then they’d meet with the demon.

I’m sorry.

By the time Ezekeil manages to extract himself, Peaches still cinging to their labcoat.

“Tell you what. I’ll leave my notepad behind. Can’t leave without it. Keep it safe for me.”

Still teary eyed, Peaches nods.

Dropping off the scales to Peterson is quicker than Ezekiel thought. an assistant is there to process them. A part of them nearly snaps at the assistant. “Finally. Next time, don’t wait until the literal last minute.”

But that would delay returning to Peaches. By the time Peaches retreated into the corner.

Ezekiel: may I come in?

P: …

E: I’m coming in. I’ll be over here. whenever you’re ready

Ezekiel sets up shop by the door, closing it behind them. Giving a wave to the guard. With their luck, the guard would ignore their summons till morning. Now Ezekiel couldn’t care less.

Working on other paperwork, their mind keeps coming back to Peaches. There has to be something else that Ezekiel can do? Get them something to eat, rub their back but…

Ezekiel feels a knot form in their throat. “I’m coming over. Just want to check that you’re alright. don’t worry about asking if you need a hug for tonight—” Ezekiel notices the wound is still bleeding

“Peaches? Peaches? Wake up. I need to turn you over. It’s gone?”

Peaches stares up at Ezekiel, teary eyed. “You left.”

“I’m back.”

“You’re going to leave again. just like Ocean.”

“I can stay, long as you need.”

“What about your doctor friend?”

“Do you think I like doing this? If it wasn’t me, it’d be someone else!” They catch themselves before they can say more. “I won’t leave this facility until every one of you is free from here. The courts will take years to remove you but if I can find a way to deliver to them the evidence, you’ll be out sooner. I know it. Give me 3 more months, you’ll breath fresh air, I promise or I’ll break all my fingers.

Peaches grabs them faster than they’d be able to say “Jumping Wilickers,” Pressing them firmly to Peaches chest, pinning their hands. “No.”

“I will get you out. I don’t care how hard.”

“No breaking fingers.”

Peaches curls around him, pouting.

“You’re a strange one.” Ezekiel huffs, letting Peaches have a few more minutes of nesting. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel antsy to leave. Actually, he felt tired and quite comfortable.

Only once mopping rolled around Ezekiel recognized the after effects of intent over exposure.

“Sorry sweets.” Peaches helps to brush them off as they stumble, it’s like they’re high.

“m’fine.” Ezekiel murmur, stumbling form the cell. Ironically, that was the 1st good sleep they’d had in a while.

They’d stopped sleeping in their apartment while ago. The demon had the key. Their door barely locked, requiring it to be barricaded for any sense of safety, even then, Ezekiel felt safer at work. The demon had to behave somewhat to preserve their status. Just that little leeway made the difference.

[sopebubbles]

Twenty-two: love me harder >>

21st century girl

Warnings: smut, Dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, unprotected sex, bondage, over stimulation, choking, spanking, I might be forgetting something

Recommend listening: love me harder by Ariana Grande

It's late. Too late to be out working on things that could wait until tomorrow, but Yn doesn't want to stop being productive for a moment. It's easier not to worry about the things she can't control if she stays focused on the things she can. They stay there at the back of her mind though, pushing her to find more work to do, less quiet time to think, to sleep. She wants to text Namjoon. Not for any particular reason, she just wants to. He hasn't stayed far from her mind this last week either, even though she's been pushing to focus on more important things. But now it's as if she's summoned him. How else could he have found her in the student activities office?

"I was told I'd find you here." Namjoon's voice breaks the silence that has surrounded her for the last half hour that she's been here completely alone. It startles her out of the reverie she had fallen into when her hands went idle. 

"Who told you that?" she asks, acting as if she hadn't jumped a little when he walked in. 

"It's better if I protect my informants," Namjoon smiles casually. Yn merely nods, looking down to the drafting table she's leaning over and the finished stack of flyers that were the last thing she could think to do tonight. "What's on your mind?" he asks cautiously toward her, noting the worried and distant look etched into her features. The little crinkle between her eyebrows and the firm set of her jaw are tell tale signs.

She shakes her head. "Nothing."

Namjoon lets out a small laugh of disbelief, little more than a puff of air out his nostrils really. "Yn, I don't think there's ever 'nothing' on your mind. I think you think more than anyone I've ever met."

Well at least he understands the problem then, she laughs ironically to herself. "You're probably right about that," she admits.

"So talk to me. What's troubling you?" Namjoon walks around the table to stand beside her. 

She finds herself overwhelmed by his sudden presence. Most of the times she's been near him she's expected it or had time to adjust or the environment had made her more open toward people in general. Now the room is still and quiet. She had expected to be alone, and here he is, filling the room, her space, the silence, with his existence. She shrinks in on herself.

"You keep saying everything is fine, that this gossip isn't bothering you, but that's clearly not true," Namjoon says, breaking the silence once again after more time has passed without an answer than she realizes. 

"I am! There are more important things than all these stupid ass rumors!" She finally explodes at him after holding in for too long.

Namjoon nods his head calmly. "So tell me about those things," he encourages.

Yn lets out a heavy sigh. "Like, grad school applications."

His head nods again. "Yeah, those are important. When are your deadlines?"

"Next month," she mumbles.

Namjoon can't help smiling as he lifts his hand to gently stroke up and down her shoulder blade. "And you're the queen of getting shit done. So there's no need to stress about that tonight." But she doesn't relax at all, just shakes her head. "What else is there?"

Another sigh. Yn lifts her hand and brings it down heavily on the table. "Did you know the police have already given up on that student's case? They say they have no leads, but haven't asked anyone any questions. I can't get the image out of my mind of her rape kit sitting in a storage closet with dozens of others like it collecting dust until the statute of limitations runs out and she never gets any justice for what's been done to her. And I just-" Yn's fists clench on the table. "It just makes me so mad."

Namjoon hums thoughtfully. "In clinical psychology they say anger is a secondary emotion. You feel angry because you feel something else, sad or disappointed…"

"Of course I'm sad and disappointed!" she yells. "I'm sad that this is a thing people, especially women, have to worry about! I'm disappointed the system doesn't do more to find and punish people who hurt other people. I'm disappointed-" she cuts herself off abruptly as tears fill her eyes. 

Namjoon touches her arm softly. "It's okay. You can tell me."

Yn shakes her head, forcing a tear to slip over the brim and down onto the stack of flyers for Take Back the Night. "I'm disappointed in myself for not being able to protect anyone. I feel like nothing I can do matters. And I feel powerless." Her voice trembles as she speaks and sad, angry tears drip in streams down her cheeks. She sniffs and wipes her cheeks with her sleeve. "I'm sorry," she whispers, despising her own vulnerability. 

"Don't apologize. Your feelings are perfectly natural, and I asked. But why do you feel like it's your responsibility to protect them?" Namjoon asks softly. 

Yn shrugs. "I guess I just wish that I could. I wish I could do anything to make women not only feel safer but actually be safer. It's not right for us to have to live in fear. I don't want to live in fear." When she finally turns her face to him for the first time, the sight of her tear streaked face makes his heart clench, and he tries to fathom how heavy it must feel for her to want to protect so many when he just wants to protect her. Without a moment of thought he pulls her against his chest and holds her tight. She doesn't fight it or the warmth and comfort his broad chest and protective arms bring.

"Let me take you home, okay? You probably need to eat and sleep, yeah?"

"I don't need you to walk me home," she mumbles into his chest and he just laughs. 

"Yeah I know. But I want to protect you, too. And if we're both walking that way we can walk together."

She shrugs, resigned. "Fine."

//

"Do the rumors never bother you?" Yn wonders as they walk toward her apartment, hands shoved in their pockets against the chill of the November night. 

Namjoon sucks the cold air through his teeth. "You know, if there are rumors about me I never really hear them," he admits with a shake of his head. 

"See, that's the thing I can't stand! You've been sleeping with random girls for years and if anyone says shit about it, you don't even know. Yet I sleep with you a handful of times and I get called a slut by my latte and everyone on campus just loud enough for me to hear." 

"I'm sorry," he sighs. "I'm sure it's not what you thought you were getting into with me."

"That's the thing, Namjoon. I didn't think I was getting into anything with you. And I don't really care that much about my reputation. I don't care personally that people think I'm a slut. I care that people think people are sluts for exercising and enjoying bodily autonomy. And the double standard only makes things worse!" Her voice increases in pitch, volume and tempo as she rants.

"Again, I'm sorry if it's the girls from my past that are giving you problems," he interjects. 

"Isn't that crazy though? People are mad at me because suddenly you're not sleeping around anymore? They have insane conspiracy theories about how I got you to be loyal to only me, when I didn't even ask for that! I've never once mentioned or even thought about if you slept with other people at the same time as me!"

Namjoon stops in his tracks just before the cross the street. "I haven't though," he informs her. "I did try, I won't lie about that, but I haven't and I don't plan to."

Yn turns to look at him straight on. "I'm really not asking, Namjoon. We're not a couple. I'm not trying to get you to do anything you don't want. I don't know why you think I'm different, but I'm not trying to be."

Namjoon smiles wryly and steps closer to her. "You're always saying that, and I know you believe it. But I feel different when I'm with you, and that's enough."

"Different how?" she wonders. 

He pauses and looks down into her eyes before he explains. "Before you even asked the question, being with you made me realize how unhappy I was before. Without even trying, when I'm with you, even when we're just talking, I don't feel like I'm going through the motions. I feel like I'm actually living my life. That's what you did. I just don't want to go through the motions anymore."

"And here everyone thinks it's witchcraft and kinky sex," Yn replies dryly. 

"Really? That's what they say?" He laughs, disbelieving.

Yn begins to walk forward again. "Oh yeah," she calls back over her shoulder. "Didn't you know I've got lots of tricks?"

The last few minutes of their walk pass in silence and the gloominess returns to her features when her two known tools to avoid her feelings-- work and humor-- are out of use. She feels drained by the little time she indulged in them, and he can see it clearly when she stops outside her building and turns to him. 

"Do you want to come inside?" she asks quietly. "I'm sure I have some brownies you could take home to the guys."

"Sure. They devoured them last time. Hobi said you should put weed in them," he agrees and follows her inside. He stays so close behind her that he's in her bedroom before he realizes it. He's already been in here once, having followed through on that post-dinner quickie the other night, but he didn't really take in the room very much that time. Now he observes the overflowing laundry hamper and the stacks of random papers covering her desk. Her bed is made though. 

"Sorry, I've been really busy this week," she mumbles, knowing that's not the real reason for her mess. She picks up a few items of clothing off the floor while Namjoon looks at her bookshelf. She suddenly wonders what he's doing in here. Does he want to fuck? Is that what he expects to happen? Is that what she wants? She takes a moment to consider the last question as she watches his back. It wouldn't be the worst thing, but she doesn't think a quick fuck is going to be the thing to fix her mood this time. She needs something more, something she isn't sure she can ask for. It's been sitting there at the back of her mind since they started sleeping together. 

"Can I borrow this?" Namjoon asks suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts once again to hold up her well-worn copy of Feminism is for Everybody. 

"Yeah, of course. Two week loan and I'll need some collateral." She smirks. 

"Collateral?" He laughs. 

"I guess it's fine. I know where you live." She shrugs. Namjoon smiles softly at her and slips his backpack off his shoulder to place the book carefully inside. 

"Are you going to be okay, Yn?" he asks with the bag on his shoulder once again. She doesn't realize it but her frown is etched even deeper and her eyes look far away. She's just realized he doesn't plan to stay, and she doesn't like that. 

She shrugs again and looks down at her hands. "Yeah, I guess." She sits on her bed, her expression utterly sullen. 

Namjoon doesn't wait for an invitation to sit beside her or to take her hand. "Yn, please tell me if there's anything I can do to help. Anything. I know that you probably have every reason not to, but you can trust me and I do care about you."

Yn turns her head to look into his eyes. Eyes that always look at her with such sincerity. "I really want to trust you," she admits. "I think I do trust you, even if others tell me not to."

"You can. I swear!" His grip on her hands tightens, desperate for her to believe him. 

"There's one thing…" she hesitates. There's no going back if she reveals this about herself. Even if he accepts it. Even if they try it once and never again. It would still be something he always knows about her. 

"Anything," he repeats anxiously. 

"You need to promise it will stay between us."

"Of course. I won't tell anyone. Not even Tae," he assures her. Yn stands and goes to the bottom drawer of her dresser. 

"It's a little ironic because the rumor was made up but maybe not untrue." Before she turns back to him he hears the clink of metal. And when she faces him a pair of handcuffs hangs from her hand. She gazes at him nervously. 

"You want to cuff me?" Namjoon asks, not entirely shocked. 

Yn shakes her head firmly. "No. I want you to cuff me." She takes a couple of steps forward until she stands right in front of him, the cuffs gathered and held so tightly in her fingers that her knuckles turn white. "I want you to let me feel powerless and safe. I...I think you can do that." Namjoon stares back at her, utterly surprised, but he understands quickly. She needs this, a sense of controlled vulnerability. "But if you can't or you don't want to, I totally understand. We can pretend I didn't bring it up." Her voice quivers and her muscles flinch to take a step back when the silence stretches for half a second too long. Namjoon places a hand over hers to keep her there. He swallows thickly.

"I'll do it." He nods, never taking his eyes off hers. "I mean, I'm not sure if I can, or I'll be good at it, but I'll do it. I'll try."

Yn releases a breath she didn't know she was holding in her chest. "Are you sure? It's okay-"

"I'm sure," he says firmly. He lifts a hand to touch her cheek. "If it's what you need I'll try it. I'll keep you safe. And I promise no one else will know."

Yn's eyes are drawn down for a moment and she whispers, "thank you."

Namjoon stands and kisses her forehead. "Just give me a minute. You get undressed and wait for me here. Nothing else, okay?" Yn nods and watches him leave the room, closing the door behind him. 

Namjoon walks down the hallway to her bathroom, noting the silence of the apartment and how there doesn't seem to be anyone here. He uses the restroom and washes his hands, splashing some water on his face too. He tells himself he can do this. He enjoys being in control, and she's never fully given him the reins before. This could be fun. Yet he still feels a slight lack of confidence, given that he's never really done anything like this before, and she clearly has. He doesn't want to disappoint her. He needs to show confidence. 

Yn takes off her clothes, puts them in the hamper and fishes out the keys to the cuffs, leaving them on the nightstand, then waits on the bed with the cuffs sitting beside her. Nothing else, he had said. She listens closely for the sound of the front door, fifty percent sure he's gonna get the fuck out as soon as possible. She's a little surprised when he doesn't and walks back in through her bedroom door. He can't help a nervous smile when he sees her sitting naked just like he'd told her, her beautiful body waiting for him. He walks closer to stand in front of her and clears his throat. Her eyes peer up at him nervously.

"Is there anything I should know?" he asks softly. "You have a safe word?"

"It's orange," she replies quickly. "You can do pretty much anything you want to me. You can be as rough with me as you want. I'll do anything you ask," she promises.

He grins down at her, pleased by the idea. "You'll do anything I say?"

"Yes, sir," she assures him.

Namjoon grabs her by the jaw and turns her face up to look him in the eyes. "Yes, daddy."

A shiver runs down her spine. "Yes, daddy," she repeats.

"Good girl," he smiles, feeling more confident already. "Now get on your knees."

Namjoon grips her arms to pull her off the bed, but it's unnecessary. She's more than happy to follow his orders as she falls to her knees in front of him and waits for more instructions. He pulls his shirt over his head and enjoys the way her eyes linger over his toned abdomen. 

"You know you've done wrong, babygirl," Namjoon says as he undoes his pants while she watches. His face comes close to hers as he pushes them to the floor with his boxers. "You've never sucked my cock before. But you will now, won't you?"

Yn nods and licks her lips. "Yes, daddy," she agrees, looking at his half erect penis in front of her.

"Show me, baby," he encourages. 

Yn takes his cock in her hand, looking up at him as he gazes back at her. She feels him grow larger and harder in her hand as she strokes him, smiling when he reaches his full size. She sticks her tongue out to lick his tip and watches as his muscles tense at the new sensation. Her tongue swirls around his head and his eyes close for a moment until he feels her mouth close around him while her tongue continues to play and her hand slowly pumps his shaft. 

"Fuck, your mouth feels good," he shudders, and Yn hums as she takes more of him past her lips. It's difficult because he's so thick, but she takes as much as she can, barely able to manage getting half his length into her mouth before he hits her throat. "That's it, baby," he coos as he enjoys watching himself disappear between her lips over and over again. Namjoon gathers her hair between his fingers at the back of her head and pushes into her until she gags, then he lets go of her to let her breathe. She smiles as she gasps for air and spits on his cock, spreading the lubricant with her hand before she takes him in again. Her teeth graze just barely over his skin and he breathes in sharply at the surprising sensation but not in pain, sighing as she hollows her cheeks and begins to suck on him. 

"Fuck. Just like that. Please don't stop," he whines. His hand weaves into her hair again, making sure she takes as much as she possibly can and pushing her to the limit, chasing his high. It isn't that hard to reach when he looks down on her and sees how happily she sucks his cock. "Mmh, you're so fucking good at that. You're gonna make me cum, baby. You're gonna swallow all of daddy's cum," he tells her as his hips thrust and fuck into her mouth. He cums soon with a grunt, spilling warm, salty semen into her throat. Yn simply smiles and swallows, licking his head and her lips to make sure she's gotten every drop. 

Namjoon pulls her to her feet and leans down to kiss her lips. "You like daddy's cock, don't you, baby?"

"I love it. Want more," she chokes out in a hoarse, breathy voice. 

"I know you do, you little slut." Namjoon turns her around and scoops the cuffs off the comforter. He tightens them around each wrist, restraining her hands behind her back. He pushes her forward, bending her over the bed. She falls on the mattress with a bounce and lets out a quiet groan. Namjoon spreads her legs wide and rubs a hand over her ass. "I didn't know you were so filthy," he comments just before he lands a harsh smack on her left cheek. Her skin blossoms red, but she doesn't even whimper. 

Namjoon kneels behind her. "If you want my big cock in your little pussy I'll have to stretch you out," he tells her before he licks a wide stripe from her clit to her asshole. Yn moans loudly as he shoves his tongue deep into her pussy and rubs his thumb over her sensitive clit, giving her an intense sensation. His hands grip the back of her thighs to hold her still when she can't help squirming. 

"It's too much!" She cries when he sucks hard on her clit, rolling his tongue over the bundle of nerves at the same time. "Namjoon, please," she whines.

Namjoon pulls away and clears his throat. "What did you call me?"

Shit. "I'm sorry, daddy."

"I asked you a question." He rises to his feet and turns his body perpendicular to hers. "What did you call me?" He repeats, and slaps his hand to her ass with more force than ever before.

"Namjoon," she whimpers, followed by a smack. 

"Is that what you're supposed to call me?" Smack.

"No." Smack. 

"What's my name, baby?" 

"Daddy. I'm sorry, daddy!" Smack.

"Don't forget again," he warns her as he watches his hand print recede in the redness of her skin. He rubs his hand, skin stinging from the repeated impacts, over her warmed flesh and down between her quivering legs to her dripping pussy. He collects her essence from her entrance with his finger and spreads it down over her clit. "I was gonna be so nice and stretch out this tight little pussy so I didn't hurt you. But you just had to misbehave." 

"I'm sorry," Yn whispers again as he rubs hard and fast over her clit, knowing well that the stimulation is intense for her. "Please. Want you inside of me," she begs. 

"Not yet, babygirl. Not until you make this pussy cum for me." He rubs faster, making her moans sound almost like sobs. "Wanna make this pussy cum for me so many times."

Yn's body is on fire, her skin still stings from her punishment and his fingers over her clit are sending furious signals all over her body. It gathers almost painfully at her core before the dam finally breaks and her orgasm washes over her. Namjoon feels her pulse against his hand as her hips twitch.

"There she is," he praises, and drops to his knees again. 

He laps up the arousal that drips down her lips and then presses soft kisses all around her swollen flesh. He runs his tongue from her clit up her folds and thrills at the little tremors that run through her when he does so. His tongue flicks temptingly at her bud, making her squeak quietly. He latches onto her with his lips once again. He's beginning to get hard again himself and strokes his length as he listens to her little moans. With her face pressed against her bed and tears in her eyes, Yn knows it won't be long before she comes again. She doesn't fight it and lets go so the second wave of orgasm rushes over her body, making her heart beat loudly and her skin sweat. Namjoon smiles and gives her one more wide lick up her pussy, making her convulse before he rises to his feet. 

With one hand on her hip, he gives himself a few more pumps before he centers himself behind her and coats the head of his cock in her thick arousal. Without warning he pushes into her swollen lips. Her slick makes entering her easy even though her tight walls squeeze him. He's still not gotten used to how good she feels raw, the delicious sensation of her soaked walls.

"Fuck, your pussy feels amazing," he groans as he buries himself to the hilt, pushing her deeper into the bed. He pulls back and then slams into her harder than before but just as deep, making her gasp. He leans forward to grip the hair at the back of her head. "Tell me who your pussy belongs to, baby."

"Fuck, daddy, it's yours." She moans as he moves again. 

Namjoon releases her hair to grab onto her hips and begins to thrust into her at a regular pace, not too fast or too slow, just a steady speed he can enjoy for a while. Yn drowns in the feeling of him, stuffing her as much as she thinks she can take. If there were any more of him it would be too much, but he's perfect. Namjoon grips the bit of chain holding her wrist together and she wraps her hands around his wrist in response, a small bit of extra contact as his thrusts become quicker and harsher. 

When he feels himself coming too close to climax he pulls out of her abruptly and pulls her up by her wrists. He swipes the keys off the top of her dresser where she left them and unlocks one of the cuffs. Then he turns her around quickly and pulls her against him into a kiss. He kisses her deeply and she raises her arms to wrap around his neck, the cuffs falling coldly against his back. He lifts her and places her on the bed and then removes her hands from him. When he pulls away she looks at him with wide curious eyes. He pecks one more quick kiss to her bitten lips.

"I want to see your gorgeous face," he tells her with an admiring smile as he brings her wrists together again, this time around the metal bars of her headboard. The cuffs click closed.

Namjoon drags his hands back down her arms, making them tingle as he kisses her. He lowers his mouth to her soft breasts as he squeezes them in his hands. Her back arches away from the mattress as he harshly sucks one nipple into his mouth. Yn wraps her fingers around the bars of her headboard as his fingertips glide agonizingly slowly over the smooth skin of her stomach, raising goosebumps. Just when she thinks he's going to reach her core, he grabs tightly onto her thigh and pushes her leg back until her knee touches her chest, folding her up before he finds her an entrance again and pushes into her. 

"Fuck," she cries loudly as he slams right into the sweet spot inside of her.

"Mm, is that the spot, baby?" Namjoon smirks as he pulls back and hits the same spot again. He fucks her steady and even, leaving her thoughtless, head totally clear of anything but what he is making her feel, exactly like she was hoping. But he wants to hear her. He leans forward and places his hand just under her jaw, drawing her attention to his face. "Tell me," he orders.

Yn looks at him through hazy eyes. His expression is stern but she can still see a softness in him, a part of him that just wants to know she's feeling good. And she is feeling so good. 

"It's perfect," she moans, and he unconsciously speeds up just a little, turned on even more by the satisfaction in her strained voice. He's about to pull his hand away and she wishes desperately that her hands were free for just a moment so she could show him what she wants. But she can't, so she'll have to use her words. "Choke me, daddy," she begs, her voice full of a neediness he's never heard before. "Please."

Namjoon hesitates for a moment. She sees the unmistakable fear and uncertainty flash in his eyes. He tries to remember what he read the one time he looked into the act online. 

"It's okay," she whispers, a horribly ambiguous phrase that she could mean to reassure him or to tell him he doesn't have to. 

Namjoon adjusts the position of his hands and applies slight pressure to the sides of her neck. Yn clenches around his cock just the same, luxuriating in the way his large hands grip around her throat. Her moans grow more intense even as they're cut off and her mouth simply hangs open. Her mind grows even more blank as she loses air and focuses solely on her body. Her orgasm comes with her pulsing around him and he moves his hand around to the back of her head to hold her as he kisses the side of her neck where his thumb was pressed in. She gasps as he speeds up, fucking her through her orgasm until he reaches his own. He pulls out just in time to cum all over her belly, which is still heaving in an attempt to catch air. 

Namjoon sits back on his heels with his hands on his expansive thighs and releases a deep, exhausted sigh. Yn can only stare at the ceiling as she tries to cope with all the intense sensations coursing through her body.  Finally he moves to hover over her and kiss her softly, bringing her back to earth with a kiss on her forehead.

"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere," he chuckles as he steps into his boxers and then leaves her cuffed to the bed frame.

In the hallway, he nearly runs straight into Jimin. It's clear he's just walked into the apartment, so at least he didn't hear anything that just happened, but these are still pretty incriminating circumstances. Namjoon attempts to cover his stomach and his chest with his arms. But Jimin can't help looking him up and down with the most confusing mixture of awe and suspicion written across his face. Jimin opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes to mind and he rushes off to his bedroom instead. 

A minute later, Namjoon returns to Yn, who's waiting patiently, seemingly unbothered by the fact that she's still chained to her bed. She smiles at him gently and it lifts a weight off his chest. All along he had been doing his best to suppress the voice in the back of his head questioning every decision and wondering if she would hate him for it. The look she gives him now is proof that she doesn't. From her perspective, it was perfect. He could've done anything he wanted with her. He could've been harsher and she wouldn't have minded, but she could sense how much he cared, how he did everything for her, even though he didn't have to.

Namjoon proceeds to clean her gently with a warm, wet washcloth, smiling as he continues to admire her body. He throws the cloth on her hamper before grabbing the keys once again and finally setting her free. But he holds onto her wrists and gives each a gentle kiss where they've gotten red and aggravated by the metal. He grabs her water bottle sitting on the night stand and opens it for her to drink, which she does eagerly.

"Do you need anything?" Namjoon brushes her hair back at her temple.

Yn shakes her head. "Just the covers." He helps her get underneath them and she moves inside to make space for him, so he can roll down onto his back beside her and pull her into his side. She rests her head on his shoulder and lays there silently for a moment. 

"You can go, if you want to," she tells him as she feels she's about to slip under into a deep sleep.

"What if I don't want to?" he questions, not wanting to move any part of his being away from her. 

Yn nestles further into his side. "Then stay," she murmurs and hears the click of her bedside lamp. 

//

The sun is shining when Yn wakes, filling the room with white light. She's alone in bed but Namjoon's spot is still warm. Namjoon. Her eyes snap open at the rustling of clothes. 

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you." He speaks softly when he sees she's looking at him. "I have a class."

"Of course," she croaks, noticing her throat is sore for the first time.

"Are you okay?" An endearing look of concern crosses his features. 

"I'm fine. Don't worry," she assures him. She's dealt with worse than a sore throat before. 

Namjoon slips his hat on his head to conceal his still tragic hair and the fact that he won't have time to go home and shower. He slept too well and didn't want to leave. 

"I'll text you later," he promises, leaning over the bed to kiss her cheek. 

Yn whispers goodbye and holds her hand to her cheek. She must have been out of her mind when she told him to stay last night, but her chest fills with warmth at his kiss even as she hates to see him leave. What on earth had Namjoon done to her? 

@halesandy @burningupp-replies @lilacdreams-00 @yoongiofmine @yonkimint @wholockian1 @hobizi @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @purpletaecup @secretlycrazyhummingbird @infiresyg93 @sweetjellyfishland @lovely-joon @little-dark-empress @iknowyoualwaystae @lostbitvh @xianav @friendlywraith @preciouschimine @ambersaesthetics @hwayne2294 @mahiiiiiiiiiiiiiii @amarillyis @vaseratineb @casspirit0705 @theestrangeddreamer @90s-belladonna @joyfullyobsessed @lochness-butmakeitsexy @lovelytaes-blog @blushingatyou @proflyndo @shegotboreddsoo @dalamjisung @kaislinging-slasher01 @armytwist @abc-abc1234-a @moonixverse @piecesofapril11 @bloomtilweache @kissme-ornot @incognitovok

[cuddles-and-kisses]

So The Cat's Out Of The Bag,,,

Another fanfic for Agapito (an OC that belongs to @yandereaffections) The story starts under the cut. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1,908 Trigger Warnings: Subtle yandereness, I can't think of any others

It’s 11 pm. I’ve been avoiding schoolwork all day and I’m in no rush to fix it. I've been writing fanfiction, of sorts, for the past 3 hours. On the bright side, the first draft is done! My back hurts from sitting so long while my butt hurts because I’ve sat on a wooden stool this long. I need to take a break but what to do? Oh, what to do? My weekly planner is wide open on a bookstand to my right. I could be productive, or I could keep avoiding them... So the planner is closed now. I’ve reorganized pens in a pen cup for the seventh time. Is there a limit to how many times a person can adjust a desk lamp before going insane? There has to be something else to do but what? As if on cue, my phone lights up with a text from my Baby. We’ve been official for 6 months so our dates are a lot more casual nowadays.

“Angel, I want attention. Unlock the back door” I’m aware it doesn’t seem like it but this is how he asks to come over. He won’t come over until I respond giving the green light. “Bold of you to assume I’m home and not partying at a random frat house” We both know I’m not doing jack at 11 pm on a Friday. Nonetheless, it’s fun to pretend I have a flourishing social life. “That’s cute. Back door please” Alright, now to get up and- ow, fuck, ouchie, ok, hold on. *POP* There we go!

I should probably pick my room up real quick. I made my bed earlier today so that’s not a problem. The svallerup rug from Ikea collects dirt a lot faster than I expected. Although would he really notice? It’s not bright in here. My dresser by the door looks fine. The futon is in couch mode, so there’s not much left I don’t have to clean up for him. In reality, I’m not cleaning for him, I just like having a clean room. The last thing I do is turn on the fairy lights above my head then light a vanilla candle. I know he’s coming over to cuddle or really do anything involving him getting affection. I might as well make my bedroom reflect that, right?

I half-jog upstairs to unlock our back door. Why the back door? It’s not because I love Jesus. Let me explain. The living room floor creaks way too loud. Also, my parent’s bedroom is right next to that door. The side door alerts our dogs to start pitching a fit. How can they hear it from the opposite side of our house? I may never be able to understand. Moonlight drifts halfway across the backroom. Sparse nightlights cover the remaining needed light. I flick on the backdoor lights followed by opening a few blinds to let more light in. Their orange glow overpowers the moonlight near the backdoor.

For whatever reason, the moon is far brighter tonight. Or my pupils are hella dilated because I’m thinking about my Baby. Either way, moonlight dusts over parts of the backroom and kitchen ahead of me. One last light to turn on. An LED light above our kitchen sink smashes through most surrounding darkness, making it almost impossible to see into the living room. White cabinets outline our kitchen. None of the cabinets match each other in this house. It’s as if this house was built in parts instead of planned out from the start. The counter is occupied with things you’d expect; a bread box, knife set, fruit basket, coffee pot, and an air fryer. Yet, there's evidence real people live here. Crumbs from a snack, mail by the fruit basket, half-empty coffee pot, as well as children’s toys forgotten all about

Everyone else is snuggled up in warm beds, sleeping. I can pick out each person’s snoring pattern when they poke through tonight’s ambiance. There are moments where quiet feels like serenity, others where it feels like emptiness. I can’t decide which one I’m feeling because I realize I’m about to have a visitor. A cup of coffee sounds like the perfect way to waste a few minutes while waiting for my lover.

Coffee cup out of the overhead cabinet. A coffee spoon from beside the coffee pot. Fake sugar off the shelves. Room temperature coffee in the pot from this morning. French vanilla coffee creamer out of the fridge. And just like that, a proper cup of coffee is served. Light reflects off the glossy coating painted over our pale coffee cups. Mom considers it a priority to have everything match or look cohesive. Appearing put together is a source of pride for her. A cup is a cup however matching cups make her happy. My ears perk up at hearing his tires pulling into the driveway. My coffee creamer swirls in the cup as he walks up the driveway. The coffee spoon clings against the inside of my coffee cup simultaneously with the creak of our back gate. All that’s left is to wash off this week’s coffee spoon then put it back. I have only a few more seconds until my Love is with me again. I’m a sappy and hopeful romantic for him, get off my back. He’s learned how to silently open the back door and if I didn’t have good peripheral vision, I would’ve yelped.

Intimate hands snake around my hips as a tender kiss is pressed against my neck. I can feel the tender smile tugging at his lips after the kiss, he had a really good day? His body is pressed against mine as he murmurs “Honey, I’m home~” behind my ear; earning a soft chuckle from me. I turn to face him, wrap my arms around his neck, and greet him with a deep kiss. This time on the lips. “Welcome home, my Love.” He’s so close to me, I can smell the cigarette he had on his way over here. The absence of alcohol or weed stench affirms he didn’t have a bad day at work. I can’t wait until these interactions become a daily occurrence. This man is breathtaking under normal circumstances; but, under the glimmer of moonlight,,, I can’t form a single thought while looking at him. The raw admiration and love this man holds in his eyes? Who could stand a chance against him? Not me. Wrong choice.

His hands linger along the sides of my hips. I hold his arms in an attempt to keep him close to me, just a little longer. “I brought you a few things. I’ll go set them on your desk.” He knows gifts aren’t my thing in spite of that he claims I deserve the entire universe. I breathed out, “Ok, I’ll be down in a minute,” then started moving to get my coffee cup, as well as a few snacks to bring downstairs. He starts heading downstairs content with how flustered I am. WAIT A FLUFFING MINUTE THE FANFICTION IS ABOUT HIM!! I whisper yell ‘Baby’ until his head pops back around the corner. I threaten him to not touch or look at my laptop. It was a pathetic attempt considering what he does for a living. In my defense, I tried. I forgot he’s in essence an overgrown teenager who will do the exact opposite of what he’s told. Wanna know what he does? Grin. I’m so fucked.

Agapito dashes downstairs and leaves me in unadulterated fear. I’m frozen in place, trying to come to terms with my fate as his footsteps fade. It’s not smut or anything, just a simple night and morning routine imagining that we lived together. This is going to be so embarrassing. Please spare me this treacherous fate and undying embarrassment. Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Get your coffee then snacks then, simply, accept what’s just happened.

With arms full of snacks, I shut my bedroom door as gingerly as I can. Setting the cup on the dresser right by the door to make this a little easier. He’s standing at my computer, reading through the last page. Oh hey, he brought me Rolo’s as well as 3 Musketeers. Nice! Oh wait, he’s done reading. His shoulders aren’t tense; his breathing hasn’t changed; all the same, he’s just standing there. “Why did you write this out instead of doing it?” That’s a good question tbh. My Baby’s voice sounds hurt, despite that, he’s trying to hide it. Ok, he needs a hug. Now to throw the snack on the bed. He needs a rib-crushing hug and you bet your butt I’ll be the one to deliver. I tug at his elbow so he’ll face me then pull him into me. His shoulders are right under my chin when we’re facing each other. I bury my face in his neck while my arms hug him as tight as I can. Except why is he upset about this?

His love for me is nothing to scoff at. He loves me the same way he wanted to be loved when he was younger. We’ve figured out he’s catching up from his pre-teen years and onward. So about 13 years without a stable romantic relationship. When he was trying to court me I had to call him out all the time for manipulation. I know he’s terrified I’ll think he’s not good enough. He has episodes of frantic attempts to meet all of my needs, even if it’s not asked for or needed. What is going through his head? Does he feel like he’s not good enough? That he’s not loving me enough so I have to turn to a fictional version of him? Does he think he’s not good enough for me to do this stuff with him? None of those are true, obviously. I explicitly stated that in the story he just read. It doesn’t mean he won’t get stuck inside his head. I need to tell him the truth. Even if I wanted to lie, I couldn’t, he’s a finely-tuned human lie detector. One more deep breath. Squeeze him a little tighter. Look him in his eyes and come clean.

“The reason I didn’t just act these out is because, I didn’t know how to ask for it.” His expression shifts from confused hurt to understanding. I start rambling, “I want to have these experiences with you. I’d give anything to have that life with you but we've only been dating for 6 months and I just, wasn’t sure, how to phrase it.” I’m choking on my own pulse from emotions. I realize I was shifting my weight left to right when he pulls me in for another hug and kisses my forehead. We stand there in each other’s embrace for a few moments before he suggests I come to his house tomorrow night. We both know what he’s suggesting. I can’t help but adamantly agree. Excitement zips through my body thinking about tomorrow night. A smile pulls at my lips as I ask, “Do you mind if I wear this shirt tomorrow night?”

Tonight is about Netflix, snacks, and rediscovering the curves and contours of each other’s bodies. Though, not before I mess up his hair while calling him a butthead. It’s evident his insecurities are still tugging at him. Funny enough, his insecurities forgot they’re fighting against me for his attention.

[velvett-tearss]

Inertia — Jean Kirschtein

summary: A little gravity and spilled coffee never hurt anybody, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt Jean, especially if coming from you.

warning: cursing, gender-neutral reader (no pronouns mentioned), you won’t get the gist of it if you don’t remember 8th grade science lmao ❤️ (laws of motion)

genre: modern au, fluff

word count: 1.3k

a/n: very much an impulse post, this has been collecting dust in my drafts for too long lmao, I hope you enjoy this <3 I sure didn’t 😀

     Jean has never been good with science.

     He learned it for a number of years in different classes — biology, chemistry, physics — and he still couldn't tell you anything other than that mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell.

It wasn't all that bad at first. He did enjoy it in the earlier years of school where most of his teachers breezed past it along with social studies. It was when the class actually started to learn periodic elements that things took a turn.

He learned it, nonetheless. There really wasn't a rule that gets you out of being taught a subject, as uninteresting as you may find it or the class itself.

     Despite this, Jean isn't exactly a lost cause in the science department. A few things have stuck with him, believe it or not. Gravity, photosynthesis, some Charles Darwin dude.

     But now, he wishes he payed attention more in science class. Maybe he would've understood what you were saying the first time he met you.

     "Geez, do you always have somewhere to be?" Jean had asked you with a scowl. He was sprawled on the floor, looking up at you. The two of you weren't acquainted yet. Not necessarily.

He placed you very easily, though. He'd seen you running around the university's campus a lot of the time. You never seemed to be still, in one place, in one piece.

     The reason behind it? He didn't know or care.

You had bumped into him a number of times. The first three times, Jean waved the incident off in good-nature. He thought himself to be a man with patience, something you didn't seem to have. There was no harm in running into someone from time to time.

It was the fourth time that he wasn't so pleased with. Each time you bumped into him, you sent him tumbling on his ass. Hard. He always landed on the floor in a comedic position like those cartoon characters on T.V.

    And each time — no matter the day — you, somehow, remained perfectly unscathed and standing. That wasn't even the worst of it: you always stood there, a hand on your hip and an impatient expression painting your face.

     All that ever did was bruise his ego and ass a bit. You usually went your separate ways after quick apologies, and Jean would see you leave in a quicker speed than when you'd arrived.

But this time around, you had a cup of coffee in your hands.

"What if I do?" you had countered, bending down to help him off the ground. You were scowling. Scowling! How could you look so displeased when it was him who'd been spilled with coffee?!

“Maybe you should manage your time better.” he bit back, allowing you to help him up.

"Maybe you shouldn't walk along the inner corners of hallways."

"Maybe you shouldn't run in the building." Jean told you, trying to ignore the large patch of his damp shirt that clung to his midriff. It was sticky and hot, and he didn't like it one bit. "Besides, everyone knows the inside lane is for leaving."

"No, it's not." you threw back quickly, as if you had been prepared for this interaction. Had you had this conversation with someone else before? How many other people had been victim of your coffee throwing and iron step?

"The outside lane is for when someone is leaving, and the inside lane is for coming in. Same goes for stairs."

Jean raised a brow, patience running dangerously thin on him. "Who made that rule up?" he questioned, unimpressed by your words. He refrained from calling you something that might’ve gotten him a smack to the face.

     "Rising is harder than descending." you explained, crossing your arms over your chest. You gave him an expression that mirrored his. "Plus, the inner lane is shorter than the outer lane. It's— Well, it's the law of gravity."

     You spoke with such conviction he feared he'd been wrong about everything in his life. Besides, he didn't know a thing about gravity other than that it kept him from flying into space.

     "Alright, fine, but why would you run with a steaming cup of coffee in your hands?" Jean asked in retaliation. He may have lacked in the science department, but he knew his common sense quite well. "It's like you want to spill it all over people."

Your mouth opened and shut quickly. He raised a brow, awaiting for your comeback that never came. Instead, you did the weirdest thing.

You laughed at him, eyes crinkling slightly at him. It was then that he realized maybe he wasn't so mad at you after all, Spilt coffee never hurt anybody, right? He would live to see the next day, so was there really any harm?

     "Okay, you're right." you admitted, almost bashfully. Your eyes traveled down to the brown stain of coffee on his dress shirt. "I shouldn't run around with hot drinks anymore, but you shouldn't walk along the inner lane when you're leaving the building."

     "Alright, deal. No more walking in the corners."

     You nodded, lips pursed. "No more running with coffee."

     It wasn't long after that he finally mustered up the courage to ask you out to dinner. He isn't gonna lie and say it was all sunshine and rainbows because it wasn't.

You were always running, always on the go. Were you running out of time? You had nowhere to be, yet you feared the thought of being late. Had you ever stopped and smelled the roses?

It was pretty hard at times. Getting accustomed to your way of things was hard. You were a mess before you met him. At least that's what you always say. Jean doesn't think so.

Maybe you were, in a sense. That was fine, too. It didn't bother him. Messes were made to be cleaned up after all, and he didn't mind leading the clean-up crew if you let him.

Things started sailing smoother as time flew. It was nice. Being with you was nice. You stopped spilling coffee on people. He stopped walking along the inner corners of hallways.

You never seemed to stop running, though. That was a constant in your lives. That was okay, too. Jean had to learn how to keep up with your never-ending speed, but you always let him set the pace. Maybe that's his favorite thing about you.

He taught you that being at rest isn't always a bad thing. You don't have to rush to get things done. Sometimes it's okay to just stop and be grateful for what's now and not what can be.

You taught him a fair share, too. You explained to him that the law of gravity isn’t actually about rising and descending. That had just been a lie to get you out of a bad situation. There was such thing as a law of gravity discovered by Isaac Newton.

Maybe Jean should've payed attention in science class when they talked about Newton because perhaps he would've understood what you were saying that first day.

All he knew was Newton's Laws of Motion, mainly the first: an object stays at rest or in motion unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.

     He figured it was something like you.

As fast as you walked, you never seemed to stop. Not until you sent him to the ground on his ass with a coffee stain on his shirt. Maybe he was the unbalanced force that acted on you. He wasn't completely sure.

     After all, Jean had never been good at science.

note: self-projected here bc I fucking hate science too ,, does this make sense or was I spitting gibberish skdkskdn

[mendesbadrepuation]

Bachata // Sebastian Stan

Once again TikTok has inspired me and inspired this little one shot/imagine/pov. Whatever you prefer to call it. I decided to post this one because I simply knew it would sit around in my drafts collecting vast amounts of mold and dust. I had lots and lots of fun with writing this. I did a little research on this dance and even found a song. Hope everyone enjoys :)

Bachata is a form of dancing. Very sexy and very intimate at times. 

Background: Y/n is a famous actress learning a new dance for a scene in her movie. Her co-star Sebastian Stan is her partner learning just as much as she is. They might even learn something else along the way. Feelings perhaps?

tw- not any that I can think of. loads of fluff and vast amounts of fun!

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️ 

“Alright you two! Get warmed up and comfortable.” Our dance instructor informs us as the music begins blasting through the studio. I make sure my heels are strapped in and I look up at Sebastian. Today he had on black basketball shorts with a graphic white tee. There was this obvious scruff across his chin and jawline. It really brought out all his features.

He was walking towards me in a funny way. His arms and legs were throwing out into this strange dance move. When your characters are professional dancers and your person playing them are not. This is what happens. I start to lightly laugh and walk towards him to the beat of the music. Our instructor has us do this everyday before we rehearse our big dance scene. It helps us get comfortable with one another and shake whatever maybe in our minds from that day away. It was a good coaching technique if you ask me. 

We join our hands together at the drop of the beat. We don’t follow our steps and just dance how we like. It was fun and that’s what made this entire experience a little better. I focus on making light steps with my heels so it looks more elegant as the instructor would say. She’s also the entire choreographer for this movie so she knew a thing or two. Part of me was also focusing on not falling on my face every step I took. I was never use to wearing heels in general. Now I was being pushed to dance in them. This instructor has pushed me in ways I never knew before. 

“This a new top?” Sebastian asks as he pulls me into his chest. They press together and I sway my hips to the beat. One of his hands goes to my waist guiding them towards his thigh.

“Yeah. You like it?” I look up into his eyes as our faces were inches apart. He grins at me when our eyes lock. All I had on was a simple cropped spaghetti strap tank. It was this mint green kind of color. A new color for me.

“Cute.” He replies making my face red. Sebastian made it his goal to make me blush everyday. I don’t know how it became this game for him but it did. Sometimes he didn’t even have to try. He’d simply look at me a certain way and my face was red as a tomato. 

However, being in these close situations it helped for him to lighten the mood. He done that very often. Especially when I would get frustrated with a certain move I had trouble getting down. We really bonded through this film and all that has came with it. I was excited to learn this new dance and tell all my friends I can. Of course they would get to see it on screen when the film comes out. 

“Okay! Get into your first positions and let’s start at the beginning and work our way into where we left off yesterday.” The instructor commands us. We step away from each other and go to our designated positions. We stand on each side of the studio across from each other. I lean my back against the mirror in the way the instructor told me to. Sebastian had one leg propped against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

Our characters were designated to be in the beautiful city of Italy. Seb and I were excited to film there when the time came. Which was coming soon. Our special dance scene was coming together and before we knew it we’d be ready to fully put it together. We had two more parts to get down. The finale was suppose to make people cry apparently. That is if we do our jobs right. Which I had faith in Sebastian and I. We’ve worked so hard for this film. 

The song begins to play. *Promise Romeo Santos (ft. Usher)* 

I push off the wall and seductively walk towards Sebastian. Our eye contact was locked in with each other. I walk a circle around him as he stands in place. My finger drags across his back very slowly. His neck was turned toward his shoulder so he could try to catch a glimpse of me. When I reach around his front our eyes lock again. My body gets closer until he places his hands on my hips pulling me right into his body. I rest my hands on his shoulders for a moment letting him guide my hips to the music. 

Our faces were inches apart as we stared into each other’s souls. It felt as if our hearts were dancing together when we did dance. That’s how romantic and sexy this dance really was. I glide my hands up to his neck to cup it gently. It makes our connection stronger in the moment. He starts to take his steps backing me up. I flow backwards with him helping me guide the way. If we didn’t trust each other then this dance would not work. 

My right arm extends out as Sebastian used one arm to lift me up. My legs remained straight and I held my grip firmly on his shoulders to keep my form. His head was angled right into my lower chest. He keeps his focus on me as I turn my head to the side closing my eyes. I felt the breeze from him spinning me around. I tuck my knees in and bring my hand back down to his shoulders. He lifts me up and over his leg where I rest behind his thigh for a second. 

He pulls me back over and I place my feet back down to the ground. His hands let go of my waist as I step away from him. Sebastian does his individual steps as I walk around him making sure all the attention was towards him. When he bows I began my individual steps. My last step brought me back into his arms. His large hands made their way to my hips once more. He brings me towards him as I straddled his thigh. With the beat of the music I grind my hips into his thigh. We never lost eye contact in this moment. My heart was racing at the intimacy this part held. 

“One two three.” Sebastian whispers the count directly next to my ear giving me the cue to step back just enough for him to grab my hand as I extend myself out. He lets me spin out only to bring me back in. Once more I straddled his thigh and grind into his thigh. This time my hips come up a little higher and Sebastian meets me. Our bodies collide perfectly together. It was as if we were made for each other. 

Without any hesitation Sebastian spins me around by my hips so now my back is pressed against his chest. His right hand trails up my side towards my stomach and directly through the valley of breasts. My heart flutters when I felt his hand around my neck pushing me into him more. On beat we practically snap our necks to look each other in the eyes again. His hand around my neck now goes up to my face where he softly rubs his thumb across my cheek bone. My hips sway against him slowly as the music begins to fade from the instructor controlling it. 

“That was awesome you two! Absolutely beautiful! Let’s finish this last part and you guys will be ready to put it all together for the final scene.” She announces as she goes over in front of us. She explains the new steps thoroughly making sure we understood first. Then she takes each of us and guides us how to do what and where to look. 

The final part added a sexy flair with so much passionate romance. It felt like I was watching a movie myself when she used Sebastian to show me my steps. Sebastian listened as intently as he could. I catch him staring at me at one point and all I could do was smile at him. We were sweaty and tired from the hours of practice. I could see it on both of our faces. We never had the thought of giving up though. 

Once we learned the steps it was time for rehearsing it. The finale of this scene really tied the entire dance together. At the very end Sebastian and I were set to have our big kiss. The choreographer did not want us to kiss yet so the passion will let itself develop in the final dance. You could guess I was pretty excited about kissing my scene partner.

_______

The magic was in the air here in Italy. It was time for our big dance scene to come alive tonight. The directors and producers chose a nice little alley way between these bright pink buildings. Around us was all the Italy architecture you could imagine. This city truly was gorgeous in every aspect. 

“Are you ready?” My stylist asks me as she is finishing up the touches on my hair and makeup. The costume director chose for me to be in a silk black two piece dress. The top piece had an A-line design with spaghetti straps. The skirt part was completely silk with two slits on either side. That way it would show off my legs for the dance. Just to add a little spice he chose red satin heels with an ankle strap. The heels I had been practicing in to be exact. 

“Nervous. But ready.” I reply to her. I look at her  through the mirror and see a soft smile on both of our faces. 

“You’ve got this. No reason for you to be nervous.” She encourages. “Besides. This is your big moment to kiss Sebastian.” She smirks at me making my cheeks red. 

“Y/n It’s time!” The director calls from the other side of the tent. My stylist fluffs my hair one more time and sends me on my way. I walk outside of the changing tent and step into the bright sunny day of Italy. The crew all looked towards me which made me blush wildly. Big smiles land on their faces and it boosts my confidence. 

“Go ahead and get in your place Y/n. Sebastian is on his way!” The choreographer commands me and I nod my head making my way over to the marker. I lean against the wall and focus on my breathing. This is what we had been working for. 

To keep the suspense Sebastian and I were positioned to look in opposite directions. I had no idea what he was wearing and he had no idea what I would be wearing. The thought of how handsome he could look was circling in my brain. My stomach was beginning to be filled with nervousness as we wait for the action to be called. I focus on an object off in the distance. 

“Ready. ACTION!” The director calls. The music begins to play and I take in a deep breath. 

My head slowly turns towards Sebastian standing opposite of me. Our eyes meet at the same time and I watch him take in a breath. He was beyond the words of handsome. They chose to put him in a white linen button down with the buttons open midway to his chest. The shirt hugged his shoulders perfectly making him look so muscular. And he was. He had on these nice gray pants that were loose enough for dancing but looked as if they fit like dress pants. My God is hair was styled perfectly back. Just enough gel to give it a little raise and the rest was just this fluffy bounce. My heart rose to my throat and it took me a moment to snap back. 

Luckily I had practiced the routine so much that my feet took control at the start of the music. I elegantly walk to Sebastian as he walks to me. We didn’t remove our eyes from each other just like before. My heart was pounding when I was just close enough to see the shining blue in his eyes. The moment his hands come in contact with my hips a spark was sent through my body. His fingertips just barely graze my exposed skin on my waist. It makes my head spin from the minimal touch. 

We continue through the routine just like we practiced. The passion and romance was every bit there. I felt it in my chest the way he would guide me, touch me, and hold me. When he spins me around and pressed my back up against his chest I felt my knees becoming weak. Just the fragile way he pressed his fingertips into my skin to pull me closer to him was enough to make me fall apart. I was trying to remain professional but it was hard with those blue orbs seeping into me. 

Just as we approach the final part I felt butterflies erupting like a volcano in my stomach. Sebastian pulls me in as close as he can. One hand holds my waist while the other held my back. I felt him start to lean me down for the special dip. The music comes to a slow as he brings me back upright. My hand cups his cheek and our breathing was heavy. Our chests rise and fall hard against one another. 

Our faces inch closer and closer. Instinctively our eyes shut just as our lips collide for the first time. My heart pounds hard against my chest that I could hear it in my ears. Sebastian deepens the kiss making me so light headed. I felt as if I was floating. He grazes his tongue across my bottom lip allowing him further access. His tongue was gentle and not too forceful. I’ve had many stage kisses but never has one made me feel this way before. 

We pull back for air and stare into each other’s eyes. The director calls cut but Sebastian doesn’t loosen his grip or move an inch. I stay put still looking into his eyes. 

“That was awesome you two! I’m so proud!” The choreographer announces and I take a step back letting my grip fall. My hands rest at my sides as I couldn’t contain the blush from appearing on my face. 

Sebastian had this grin on his face as he continues to look at me. His eyes look from my head to my toe once more. “You are absolutely gorgeous.” He compliments. If it was possible my face got 10x more red. 

“Thank you Sebastian.” I barely muster up the words to reply. “You look very handsome.” This time he looks to his right and a subtle blush appears on his face. 

“Thank you.” He scratches the back of his head to ease his nerves. There was an obvious connection between the two of us. However, something was holding us back from just admitting it. We wanted each other but we wanted to remain professionals. 

After filming was over with for the movie I was sad to leave. Who wouldn’t be? I have grown such a connection with all of these people. Shortly after filming Sebastian reached out to me. It was just a simple text message. Should it have gave me the amount of butterflies it did? 

Would I ever be able to dance with you like that again? 

I couldn’t help but smile down at my phone. “What are you smiling at over there?” My best friend asks me. I shake my head trying to contain myself. 

“Nothing to worry about.” I reply shortly and think of a message back. 

If you’re lucky ;) 

I tried to be flirty but also not give away the fact that I was crushing hard on a fellow co-star. Somehow I just knew Sebastian was going to become a big part of my life. He reads the message and I see the bubble pop up. Just as fast as it pops up it disappears. I let a soft sigh out. 

“Hey look Y/n! Isn’t that Sebastian?” Another one of my friends ask. We were all having a nice time catching up at my place. I had been gone for months so they didn’t have to do much begging when it came to hanging out. 

The tv was playing the in background. I scramble around finding the remote turning the volume up. There he was on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Falon. My heart starts to rapidly beat in my chest at the looks of him. A black suit jacket with a floral button down underneath. His hair styled back with some gel. Once again he was just as handsome as the day I first met him. 

“So Sebastian! You’ve got a new movie coming out with none other Y/n y/l/n. You know she’s one of my favorites on this show. How was it working with her?” My breath caught in my throat as my friends slightly squeal with the mention of my name. 

“Oh wow. It was the best. She’s an absolute sweetheart! I can’t count the times she made my heart skip a beat.” He playfully clutches his chest. I thought I was going to faint. The crowd on the show erupts into cheers from the comment. 

“Woah woah woah! Seems to me like there is some chemistry behind the scenes.” Jimmy replies egging him on. He looks down into his lap with a soft smile. 

“There was definitely some moments throughout filming that had...” he pauses to think about his words. “Sparks flying I guess you could say.” Jimmy leans back in his chair in shock as the crowd gets louder. 

“The producer so graciously let me have this little clip of a special scene that you all shared. Let’s watch shall we?” He gestures to another screen and the clip begins rolling. It was a small trailer that I actually hadn’t seen yet. Flashes of my face throughout filming appear. Scenes that we developed. 

I see the clip of the beginning of the dance scene. The very moment we looked at each other it only showed Sebastian’s reaction. It zooms on his face and in his eyes I swear I saw a twinkle. Nice editing if you ask me. My heart jumps to my throat as the clip fades out. Sebastian is leaning back in his chair with an obvious blush on his cheeks. 

“Let’s talk about that look man.” Jimmy says. Sebastian starts shaking his head. He had a big smile on his face. It’s like he was lost in his thoughts. 

“That reaction was completely real. Our choreographer had us look away until the director called action. So for lack of better words. She took my breath away.” Jimmy covers his mouth in shock and the crowd was even more crazy. My jaw drops to the floor at his words. 

“Wow. Seems like you two are starting a new romance Sebastian!” Jimmy says and I’m about to pass out from this entire interview. 

“Yeah. If I’m lucky.” He smoothly winks at Jimmy. I knew what that meant. I just sent those words to him. My entire body was on an adrenaline rush. 

“What does that mean!?” My friend asks in a high pitch. She was trying to contain her excitement but it was no use. 

I look over at her with the biggest smirk on my face. My friends jump up from their seats circling around me in pure excitement. Thousands of questions were being shout out in my direction. 

“Guys!” I laugh trying to get them to calm down. “When I say I’ve never had a stage kiss like his before. I mean it.” They shout in even more excitement. 

“Well you’ve heard it hear live. Go check out this romantic new movie when it hits a theatre near you!” Jimmy closes the interview. Sebastian stands up waving to the crowd. The show goes to commercial and I’m still standing there speechless at his words. Was this really happening? 

I bring my phone up. Without any hesitation I click on his messages again. Out of nerves I bite the inside of my cheek contemplating my next move. 

“Whatever you’re about to say to him. Say it!” My friend encourages. I glance up at them and back to my phone. 

Will you take my breath away if we dance again? 

My cheesy reply still makes my heart pound in my chest. I wait a little over a minute and my phone buzzes against my hand. 

If you’ll give me the chance I will hopefully do more than that. 

I bite my lip to try and suppress the emotions circulating through my body. 

Time and place? 

My fingers come up to my lips as I nervously bite at one of my nails. 

7 tomorrow night at my place. I’ll pick you up. 

My eyes grow wide in surprise. This was really happening. I was planning a date with Sebastian Stan. 

I’ll bring an inhaler just in case :) 

I couldn’t ignore the wave of nausea building up in my stomach. 

Good idea. I’ll bring a crash cart. Just in case your gorgeous self sends me into cardiac arrest. 

My eyes roll at the flirtatious comeback. I leave the message open and explain to my friends we had to find an outfit quickly. 

I was going on a date with Sebastian Stan. 

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

like, comment, or reblog for a part two? Thank you for reading guys!!!! :))

[worldsover]

Wintertide Inside ft. Gahyeon

length ✦ 4841

genres ✧ cockwarming; anal; gf!Gahyeon

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Maybe it’s obvious, but you’re thankful for Gahyeon’s ass. A simple contract—if you need a cocksleeve to wrap you or if your girlfriend needs a toy to fill her, neither of you would say no. You’re nominally in charge today but the outcome’s the same either way, with cum seeping from both ends of her tract and your cock sore in the best plight a man can have. 

Swift moans interject her snoring to surface you from your nap, probably because of flashes of biting air that creep in from some draft in the room. Her red crop-top is the only article of clothing on her scrumptious physique while you’re completely stark.  Don’t want to get up so you hold her somehow closer with no worry for your own frigidity. Gahyeon is tiny in your entwine. As you emanate heat from your torso to her back, she returns it tenfold between her legs. 

The incongruity of her pussy is that it’s both uncomfortable and comforting.  Stressfully tight and lovingly wet, while grueling clenches verge on coaxing yet another orgasm from you. Its quaver can be measured in millimeters when your cock etches its shape more permanent. Yesterday’s regrets and tomorrow’s worries become dust in your brain as it toils to memorize each of her inner folds.

Therefore more than the mouthwatering shape or size, you’re grateful for the cushion of her buttcheeks because it rivals your couch’s plushness and distracts you from your imminent peak, your third or fourth today. Losing track is easy when she keeps your cock incarcerated for so long. The threat of climax fades away and returns as quickly while single pulses reiterate how close to the edge you are. No lights on in your living room. Don’t need them. Nothing in your head other than Gahyeon anyway.

Rays spill through the thick curtains and a sliver barely misses her eyes to fall on yours instead. However, she rouses too from her sleep when a pillow between her legs slips to the floor. Nothing funny but you both giggle.

“How’s your nap, babe?” you say. 

She twitches at the warm air tickling her ears, and cold the rest of her skin, but you manage to keep most of your body stationary in Gahyeon’s embrace. Gahyeon yawns and stretches her arms, pushing back on the edge of the couch. “I think I had an amazing dream. Brr.”

“Dummy, you don’t dream until you hit R.E.M.” You point and she bends down to grab the thick blue blanket that fell on the floor. A small hum arises from you at the slight shift in angle. Look at the white clock above the TV and point again. “It’s only been like twenty.”

Gahyeon hands the blanket to you and you swathe it around your two bodies, calming both of your shivers. “Felt like forever. Pff, I was trying to be all romantic.”

“Why be romantic when-” Your words fall to breathy laments when the smoothest swing of her hips turn millimeters of movement to centimeters. The friction from only fractions of your length force a whimper out of her as it does a throb from you.

Gahyeon’s moans turn to more desperate whimpers in kind. Her hand aims below her crop-top and your shaft feels the curious kneading of her fingers below her belly button. Another throb. “Fuck. I still feel your cum inside. It’s almost too much.”

“Then why are you grinding so much? I’m barely running on empty.”

Your head is so fuzzy, you can’t tell how she manages to get on top of you while keeping your cock inside the entire time. For as savory as it is to look or smell or listen to her cute grunts, the only sensation that passes to your mind is her tightness twisting around your shaft. 

Gahyeon sits up and collects a bit of leakage with a finger, provocatively sucking it. “Nice try but I know the taste of your fresh load.”

“Fuck, you make my cock so sensitive. Such a good cumslut.” 

She gulps and bats her eyes so you pull her hair down, and your lips converge. Your core reignites when Gahyeon starts jolting her hips down hard on yours, and you note that her walls aren’t just clingy with your semen but that her pussy is lubricious with girl cum. It’s her turn to be the fucktoy but she’s stalwart in riding you. You’re in no condition to object. 

Gahyeon looks up at the clock and she slows down though not fully arresting her momentum. “Wait a sec, why didn’t you tell me the time?” she says after a thrust and a pant.

You shrug and she blows air out of her lips. Not a mind reader here.

Her pussy almost snaps shut when she gets off you. She steals the blanket while she’s at it. ”Right, should’ve told you to remind me. How am I supposed to focus on the performance later with this in me the whole time?” Gahyeon says, wiping the sticky load dripping from her other lips.

“Man, the blanket’s gonna be sticky now.”

“Sorry babe, I’ll try to do a better job keeping it inside me, okay?”

Stand up and grab some tissues for the fluids coating her groin before you clean yourself the same. You shiver at the air occasionally sweeping the room because you don exactly one less garment than Gahyeon, but it’s about making a statement. It’s your apartment dammit so you can be nude at any hour if you want to be. 

Widen the curtains and suffuse the room with natural white light. Look outside, your undraped stature proud and unsympathetic to the outside world to which you expose yourself. Sky and trees are near monochrome as the snow piles up on the grass which adds to the subtraction of color. 

“You’re so weird,” she says. Your dick flops as you turn around and flaunt your butt to mother nature itself, knowing its coldness towards you isn’t solely metaphorical in this season.

“This is our first winter together, my first new year in my own apartment. I have to be excited.” You raise your arms.

“Fair. You wouldn’t be here without me.” A signature curly smile and she joins your side to admire the snowy sight, letting you share in some—no, not all—of the warmness of the blanket.

“I mean if we were normal, I wouldn’t have left.” You hug Gahyeon and give her a smooch on her forehead. “But I needed my own place for my little cum-hungry, cum-greedy cockwarmer.”

Pink always spreads her cheeks at your brazen words. Her tummy presses on your softening cock and brings it back to life but she backs away. Gahyeon brings the back of each of her hands to her sides. “Right, speaking of which. Can I take one of my panties from your drawer?”

“You didn’t bring any? Hold on, that was supposed to be a secret!” you say.

“Yeah, obviously I know about them, stupid. You didn’t even notice when I packed a couple in there myself when you moved, did you?” 

She’s right, you didn’t, so shake your head. Gahyeon giggles then gives you the blanket again before she heads to your room. “I’ll be back soon, okay!” she yells while you fiddle with the thermostat. 

Grab some tortilla chips from the pantry then sit on the couch bundled in the blanket and turn to a channel that’s just playing a loop of a fireplace. At least the crackling sounds realistic with your speakers. 

In only a few minutes, she already has a full winter outfit on, a bright tomato that would stand out sorely in the snow. The apartment is already a lot mellower so you put the blanket away to wash later. Gahyeon is enticing no matter what she wears but you’re warm inside seeing your girlfriend wrapped up, though warmth also comes from the humiliation finally setting in from the contrast between her state of dress and yours.

“Did you hear me? I said I’ll be back soon.”

“Come on, the apartment isn't that big.” Get up to kiss her goodbye. ”Hurry back. There should be plenty of sun left and I wanna see the sun shine on your face with my cock in it.”

Open your laptop on your coffee table and promise to yourself that you’ll finish editing that teaser. It’s just a little distraction when you pore over videos you worked on recently, just reviewing your work to get ideas for how to cut. However, like a good and fully whipped man, one thing leads to another, one Dreamcatcher music video later—you’re proud of working on that one—and you’re back to the fancams of your girlfriend dancing. A similar, but less revealing crop-top, brief black shorts that strut the beautiful width of her thighs that you live between. Losing much weight, they’re still ample enough to stifle your cock on their own, without her amazing pussy’s help. Your erection should be exhausted but it returns at the sight of the jiggling. Two hands begin their work as Fly High plays.

A fluffy red jacket slams into your head. “You slob, put some clothes on!”

“What are you doing home?”

“Look at all the snow! What are you doing naked?”

“It’s my apartment, dang it! You know I’m naked all the time.” Didn’t mean to raise your tone there but she looks a touch distressed. You run up to her and give her a heavy drawn-out embrace.

“Babe,” she says, a little reluctant in the hug.

“I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”

“No babe, it’s fine.”

“I was jerking it to you if it helps.”

“That doesn’t help, stupid. You’re gonna get this dress messy!” Gahyeon grabs your dick which leaks some precum. She bites her lip.

“Oh, sorry,” you say. You back off and retrieve the parka that fell on the floor and from all its pockets spill condoms like a deck of cards and a bad hand.

“Holy shit,” Gahyeon says. Whatever minute ire that remains burns away at her adorable laughter mixing with yours.

“Fuck, imagine if someone caught you with those.”

“Shit. Yoobin almost put her hand in my pocket for no reason.”

“Nah, she would’ve laughed just as hard.”

“You’re right.” Gahyeon bends down to pick the condoms up and you take your sweet time to help her. “We haven’t used these in so long,” she says.

“You wanna? Old time’s sake? Ha, fuck no.” Feeling bad for making her do all that work to appreciate her ass even in the baggiest pants possible, you spank her.  Wait, that’s not the solution. ”You should change first. I’ll clean up.”

There’s grey shorts and a plain white shirt in the dryer, so grab them. Gahyeon returns with her hair in twin buns, a short pink skirt and a white long sleeve half-shirt that manages to show off her cleavage from the top and the bottom.

“I hope that’s not a stage outfit.”

“Of course not. I just wanted to look more like a dumb slut for your dick.”

And with that, thoughts empty. As she crawls towards you, grab a wad of her hair. “So it’s like that today. Well shit, good job.”

“Thank you!” Only the corners of Gahyeon’s lips turn. “A good toy only has one purpose.” 

Fulfill that purpose and shove her head down to its rightful place. Gahyeon takes a single stroke into her throat, with nary a sound as she takes the entire length into her practice throat, but she pulls her lips back up to your cockhead. “You’ll be good there?” you say.

“Mhm,” she says with her usual mouthful.

You get a bit of video cutting done for an hour or so with her lips on your cock head, occasionally patting her head. Occasional moans slip out but you keep focused and erect at the same time. At some point during your work, you offer her one of your earphones to listen to your synthwave music. Despite maintaining an enthusiastic hold on your tip, Gahyeon looks a little tired from kneeling so long.

“Aww, baby, do your knees hurt?”

“Mm, I’m fine,” she mumbles while keeping her lips on your tip.

“Why are you pouting a little then?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, come here.”

Stoop to give her a passionate, drawn-out kiss, though it always turns out the same. You realize how long you could do nothing but make out with your girlfriend. You love the way Gahyeon competes with you, where your tongues battle and you each threaten to suck the air out of each other’s lungs. It’s impossible to keep your heart’s pace steady and you’d be remiss for your hands not to dig into every inch of her skin as she wanders the same on you.

Of course, there’s only one place those hands could lead to. Smack. You swear her ass ripples. “Now get back to sucking slut.”

You wipe the drool off your face but you interrupt her doing the same; she looks good messy. Gaheyon lays on the couch with her head on your lap. You can’t see her face but if she needs to get a better angle to watch Knowing Bros, then so be it. Her lips fasten your cock just the same. She sticks her ass up and a reflective circle seals her asshole.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Friend got it for Christmas, secret Santa.”

“Bora?”

“Mhmmmm-” Gahyeon draws out the vibration of the last consonant on your cock. 

A couple of hours later, you finish your work and send emails.  Once in a while you stroke her hair but she gives more suction in response, sending you ever closer to release. How greedy of her, she’s certainly swallowed enough cum just from premature singular pulses but Gahyeon doesn’t stop when you lay down the law and slap her ass.

“Whose turn is it. huh?”

Every hit of her ass emboldens her sucking, as she goes deeper.

“So you wanna be a brat? I said, whose turn is it!”

She gags for the first time in a while, spewing much spit, when you pull slowly but abruptly on the shiny buttplug after slapping her ass a final time. Lube spills out.

Gahyeon breathes heavy breaths on your cock. “Fuck. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Woah. Now that’s new.” 

“I guess it just came out naturally. Sir.” She licks up the froth on your cock.

“I don’t mind if you say it.” You circle her asshole with your finger and taste the lube. Sugary but you can’t think of the flavor. Not that you can think of much of anything.

“Only if you call me ma’am when it’s my turn.”

“Deal.”

“Thank you sir.”

She keeps your cock snug in her mouth. Browse your phone and decide to get some Jjamppong delivered, perfect for the cold.

“Gahyeon? Babe?”

Was she really? Incredible. She manages to doze off with a cock filling her mouth. That’s new. For all the times you’ve fallen asleep during tantric sex, it’s always been inside her pussy or asshole. How she incessantly drools while her head wriggles nearly makes you unload on her unconscious tongue but you hold it in, allowing only a few spurts to leak.

Unfortunately, you have to wake her up when you get the order from the door. You have to get some final work done but she eats dinner, sitting your dick. Your laptop is on her lap while you rest your chin on her neck. Tickled, Gahyeon giggles in between slurps of noodles. The lack of movement agonizes both of you but it keeps you focused. You could spend all day fucking each other; in fact, you have.

The winter sunset lights your room the colors of candy like artificial strawberry and sweet tangerines, though snow still storms down to desaturate the world. You’ve had enough productivity for one day. Gahyeon shares the soup with you, but after she sets the bowl down, she twists her hips in a quick motion and you explode without warning. Five or six? It’s only a curt removal of your soul from existence but you puff and pant anyway.

“Fuck, I’m sorry sir. I should’ve warned you.”

“It’s fine.”

“But I can’t let this cum go to waste, can I?” At some point during your orgasm, she withdrew herself and now she’s licking up and down your soft shaft to clean any cum that you didn’t shoot inside. “Damn, I just wanted to get my vibrator.”

“It’s okay Gahyeon, get it. I. I definitely need some time to recover.”

“I guess even you have your limits.” She grins, then leaves for the bedroom.

Gahyeon returns and a loop of a pink wire sticks out from her pussy. Now the only thing she wears is that thin strip of a top. Take off your shirt to match. “The egg this time?” you say.

She nods. “Here’s the remote.”

Get your Switch and play some Smash while she washes some dishes and organizes clothes that she’s brought over. Apparently you mix your clothes with hers often, which shouldn’t be such an issue considering how different your sizes are. Every time you lose a game, you turn on the vibrator for a few moments. You get a kick out of watching her buckle. If only you could do this while she performs live.

“You wanna head to the bedroom? It’s getting dark, uff.” A quick press of the highest setting and Gahyeon’s knees knock together. It never takes too long for you to get hard again when you see her put all effort into standing. “You- Ahhh, fuck, I love you. I hate you.”

Maybe it’s because you have yet to turn the intensity down. With a full hand on her ass and the other on her back, carry her to the bedroom but her wriggling hobbles you. An early left turn.

“I already showered earlier. Sir, please I’m getting so sensitive.” Gahyeon rotates through many different faces, from agony to excitement to pleasure. 

Set her down in the hot tub and her crop-top lands in the laundry basket perfectly.

“Nice throw.” Gahyeon high-fives you. She almost distracted you with that great throw. “Tsk. You’re still keeping that vibrator in you. Just what you deserve for making me cum when I didn’t even finish eating.”

Your apartment is relatively small for its price, but there were certainly no expenses spared for the bathroom. Both your shower and your jacuzzi could fit three people. It has the biggest panes of glass and provides no privacy but you love the ambiance especially during a night shower. Gahyeon’s moaning goes from having a quick rhythm to intense, long held notes. She’s playing with herself in any way that she can to make her climax, manically stroking her clit while she teases pulling the metallic plug in her ass. Turn off the lights and cocoa candles fill the scent of the room. Finally, remove her vibrator and buttplug.

“So fucking yummy. Come here,” you say, holding her neck carefully as you get in the tub to crash your lips into hers. After what feels like hours of kissing even if it is only a few minutes, you lay down in the hot-tub and Gahyeon straddles your thighs. 

“So which is going to be?” She glances next to the sink. ”Guess the lube isn’t for my pussy. Wait, why’d you turn on the water? It’s gonna wash away the lube. Woah, isn’t it my turn-” 

When you pull her groin up to your face, extra force on her clit shuts her up and nearly instantly drives her to orgasm. Gahyeon always grabs your hair and locks her legs together when you make her cum with your tongue but especially after all the stimulation of the vibrator, you have difficulty breathing. It’s worth it. She whimpers as your lips work relentlessly on her pussy but you settle down after a while. Hot jets of water blast on your back along with her legs. Gahyeon continues riding your face while she talks about her performance. Apparently the snow had a lot of the production people hold up. She brings a dewfall and you could taste her syrup forever but your cock aches once again. Maybe it’s asking you to chill out and that it needs a break, but if that were true, it wouldn’t be as hard as ever. 

“I’ve had enough of your pussy today,” you say.

“Really sir? Didn’t know that was possible.” Gahyeon needs no directions, your tongue licking up her body as your hands pull her last garment away.

“Siri, play relaxing radio. I’m staying in your ass until I cum.”

The middle of an R&B chorus plays. You get up to take the lube and Gahyeon drains the tub until only a little water remains. Her fingers wander and she vigorously rubs her clit while a curious thumb circles her asshole. Take a glob of the vanilla flavored lube and spread it on your fingers. Gahyeon sucks on your index, which goes straight to her asshole. Its wetness helps the tight ring expand slowly around it and the familiar pucker on your finger excites you. Get underneath her so that she’s laying on top of you while you sit back against the tub.

“God. I’m never getting used to how big you are.”

There it is. The tip of your cock vanishes into her tight asshole and you try to hold in a high whine, though Gahyeon lets out plenty of squeals as lube makes the entrance slick, squishy noises. Let her ass sink in with only her weight and it wraps down your shaft inch by throbbing inch. At last. She’s all the way down. If only you could see her face, but the position is comfortable and you get the pleasure of sucking on her neck while playing with her tits from behind.

The glow from the moon finds an angle into your room, mixing candle flame yellows with its white. Fierce winds push the falling snow outside of your window sideways. You’re warm nonetheless.

Midnight, the radio says as a new host talks about the inclement weather, but it’s not enough to keep you from kissing up and down Gahyeon’s back. Play with her nipples and the miniscule action not only gets them hard, but makes her ass’s folds react and roll to the pleasure. The breeze blows, a more important sound manages to distract you.

“Sir, do you hear that?” Gahyeon says.

“Yeah!” You hum along to the melody of Jazz Bar. “Hey, that’s you singing.”

“It’s not even one of our title tracks. I have to tell the members.” 

Gahyeon almost gets up from her but her head turns and shakes, realizing your thickness twitching as she almost fully unsheathes her ass. “Fuck.”

“Hold on. What’d I tell you?”

“Oh shit. Sorry. Sir. I can tell them later.”

“You know what. Just for that.” Pick her up, holding her thighs carefully to keep your cock in her asshole. The position is awkward, but you manage to lay her down prone without withdrawing your erection. 

“God, I love the way your cock hits.” All agreements and contracts are lost when you look at how the fat and muscle collects in Gahyeon’s full ass. A single thrust in and you can see the weight of the smack of your groin on her cheeks, so you endeavor to learn more about physics, even during the snow day. Slam into her and as you go in and out, Gahyeon yells and swears louder and louder, threatening to let all the neighbors know. No, of course they already know. It makes your eye contact with them hilariously awkward and it makes Gahyeon’s mask and disguise even more necessary.

“What a bad girl,” you say with a powerful shove.  ”Can’t even be a good cockwarmer, god.” Plunge and dive, your cock tries its best to widen her asshole but no matter what, it strangles your shaft taut. “Your butthole is just too. Fucking. Tempting.”

“Yes! Yes! Sir please, I’m going to- I’m just about to. Fuck. Shit I was so close.”

Chuckle at seeing her distraught face. “I’m getting some beer. Also, I want to finish in the bedroom. More comfy.”

She takes a minute to find her breathing but she gets up and grabs the lube. “Don’t have work tomorrow?” Gahyeon says.

“Lemme check.” When you both get to the bedroom, you check your phone. Nothing til noon. Perfect. Grab some beer in the minifridge in the corner of the room, while Gahyeon fixes her hair and lays down on the bed. She pats the mattress with both hands next to her. Missionary, it is then.

A hand to her chin. “Wait a second, didn’t you say you weren’t leaving my ass until you came. Hmm,” Gahyeon says. She gives a quick smooch and smiles naughtily. You could stare at her lips upturning all day. It’s her signature weapon.

Take a sip of the bottle of Cass. “What are you gonna do about it?” She digs her nails into your back to pull you and your cock finds the purchase of her asshole anew. In between thrusting motions, you take bigger swigs of the beer and offer some to her. She spills a bit on her tits and you lick it up. Suck on her tits as she pounds her ass into your erection. 

“Stretch me out, fuck me harder. Harder, sir!”

“God, mmmm, ugh., ugh.” Can’t speak much anymore.  Both of you love dirty talk, Gahyeon especially knows how to whisper to tickle your ear but she also knows how to scream to get your instinctive side out. You hold her neck as you hold the bottle, careful and secure. Her tightly drawn anus responds the same as her pussy when you choke her, as they each try frenetically to wring you dry. However, the friction of her ass, even with all the lube, arouses your cock harder somehow. This is the life you chose, in a way the most tiring work you could ever imagine.

Gahyeon grabs tighter and her whole body ripples at the force that you both put in. Not a single qualm about your lifestyle. Any pretense of space between you two is gone as every inch of your skin slaps against each other. A final gulp from the bottle.

“Right there, right there, yes sir, baby. Cum with me!”

There isn’t much of you left but it’s still a flash freeze, a blizzard and pouring hail slamming into you when you cum, and she shakes doubly so in her orgasm as she’s had double yours today. The throb of your shaft doesn’t match the squeezing rhythm of her sphincter and inner walls which makes your cock spurt with more intensity than you could think possible, even bearing your stamina. Your sticky semen replaces the slippery lube inside her ass but you didn’t need its stickiness to slow your rhythm as your dick gets softer. You let minutes pass anyway to feel her muscles react to the load sloshing around and so that it’s not as difficult to extricate your softness from her greedy butthole, though it takes a slow removal anyway with its tightness. Both of you limp over and Gahyeon is fast asleep, but you scramble to return the buttplug and keep the cum inside.

“Keep warm! It’s going to be like this all winter. Tomorrow, it’ll be a high of -5 and a low of -20 and that snow will keep piling up-” Turn down the volume so that it’s not muted but soft enough that you can hear the wind howl past your windows just as loud. Nothing amazes you more than the tiny idol asleep and cutely snoring while her pussy throttles your shaft. Looking at Gahyeon’s ass and feeling her shake it as you try to fall asleep, something tells you it’ll be the warmest winter you’ll ever have.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Something quick with my favorite kink for my second favorite in Dreamcatcher. Also got a draft for my ultimate bias but that’ll take time as well. Woops, yet another thing to procrastinate on while I shirk on both real life and writing.

[himitsukki]

𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙖 𝙠𝙚𝙞 // 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

warning: unedited <333 plith ignore if u see any plot holes, this has been sitting on my drafts for a couple of weeks </3

wc: 2,453

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ 

“hitoka-chan! someone’s looking for you.“

surprised at the news of someone looking for their shy younger manager, the team collectively move their heads to look at the gym’s sliding doors and see a female student taking off her shoes just outside of it. one of her hands rests against the doorframe bent slightly at the elbows to stabilise her body as the other picks up her shoes by the back of it.

you step into the gym with only socks on, moving quickly to bow at the team members and approach the new manager. 

in the middle of the duo’s spiking practice, hinata and kageyama both stop and turn at the sound of your voice. the familiar sound of their usual bickers and running, jumping and whatnot go mute, and slowly, the normally loud and slightly deafening volume of karasuno high school’s second gymnasium goes quiet.

“are you guys okay?“ daichi asks as he approaches the first year duo. ”why’d you two stop?“ the captain didn’t get an answer from them; instead, they continued to stare at the guest by the front portion of the gym.

“is this...“ hinata murmurs, blinking every couple of seconds, his face is unmoving and stock-still. “...my chance?“

what? chance? daichi wonders. what chance is there for—

before his mind finishes the thought, hinata dashes towards the guest, and kageyama follows suit right after, sharing the same braincell thought with his partner. they both bow deeply and introduce themselves loudly before you.

“i’m hinata shouyou!“

“kageyama tobio!“

“please tutor us!“

ahh, must be an honor student. the team, who are all now just standing still, looks over to see what the commotion is about; they can’t hear the conversation from the other side of the gym, but they see you wave your hands in a rapid  dismissive manner, most likely overwhelmed with the sudden appearance (and, quite frankly, the sheer aura) of these two. 

“i’m tutoring a few students at the moment so i can’t right now, i’m sorry.“ hinata’s and kageyama’s shoulders droop dramatically, their disappointment clear to anybody with how the air around them seemingly became cold and depressing. “but... i’m free during breaks, so feel free to visit! oh, and i can give you copies of my reviewers for the upcoming exam!”

the two first years bowed deeper and thanked you profusely, sending you to another wave of overwhelmingness. the rest of the team, still in the same spots as they were before, only look at the scene with mixed reactions, staring in silence as they watch you try to make hinata and kageyama lift up their heads. 

“i think i’ve heard of her,” tanaka suddenly speaks up. the team turns to look at him. ”someone was talking about this really kind and angel-like first year, gives away reviewers, tutors other people, helps out with others’ homeworks, stuff like that. no one mentioned that she’s really pretty, though.”

“ryu!“ nishinoya shouts suddenly. “we can only focus on kiyoko-san!“

“but they’re different!“ tanaka argues. “kiyoko-san is cool and beautiful! obviously, we’ll follow her forever!”

daichi steps up to forcibly make hinata and kageyama stand up straight, apologizing for their actions as their captain. 

“it’s fine,“ you laugh slightly, bowing your head and thanking him for his hard work. “i’m hitoka-chan’s classmate! i’m here to return something to her, actually.“

“[name]-san!“ yamaguchi greets you as he jogs towards you, a smile on his face and his hand already up in the air in the form of a wave. he comes closer, and you jump up to reach his hand to high five it before he tries to heighten it further up where you can’t reach it anymore.

“i touched it!”

“i felt nothing, though~“

“yama-kun, that’s a lie!“

t.. they know each other? once again, the team is in a state of shock and silence as they see another usually shy teammate act differently. it’s rare to see yamaguchi being the initiator in teasing someone (as he’s always with tsukishima), much less being so... vocal and energetic and expressive.

“that makes it my third win this week!“

“sure thing, [name]-san~“

“say,“ asahi mumurs onto the rest of the team who never left their places. “is she... y’know... maybe... yamaguc—“

“oi,“ tanaka interrupts the small group of gossipers as he clamps a hand down sugawara’s shoulder, shaking it back and forth while keeping his eyes on the scene up front. “even tsukishima knows her, damn it!“

immediately, everyone looks back to see the most unlikely member of the team taking to someone else without glare on his face, not even a hint of irritation. in fact, whatever he says has you and yamaguchi giggling, while hinata and kageyama puff up with flames of petty anger.

well, daichi thinks to himself as he overhears tsukishima mock the other firstyear duo for begging you to tutor them in front of everyone else. guess we learn something new everyday.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

you return a week later to the male volleyball club’s gym with a paper bag on one hand and a large plastic bag on the other.

“she told me to give this to you,“ the team overhears your conversation as you approach the tall blonde. “it’s strawberry shortcake, of course.“ 

damn, tsukishima has girls giving him gifts already? they collectively curse at him inside. lucky bastard...!

“ah— i’d like to give these for everyone!“ with an obvious perk of their ears, everyone gathers around you as you open the large, white plastic bag: it’s filled with various snacks and drinks, most likely bought from a nearby convenience store outside the school, which meant you walked out of the school premises, bought everything in this bag, then walked back to the campus just to give these for everyone.

an angel... she’s literally an angel! 

“THANK YOU VERY MUCH!“ hinata, kageyama, nishinoya and tanaka shout in happiness, grabbing their favorite snacks and drinks (yoghurt for kageyama and melonpan for tanaka, of couse) with twinkles in their eyes and a dust of pink on their cheeks. 

“you didn’t have to buy these for us,“ daichi steps up and accepts the bag with a small bow. 

“it’s fine, captain! thank you for working hard!“ 

daichi announces a break for everyone, telling them to grab a snack or a drink of their choice before passing the bag to the next person. in a matter of seconds, everyone’s seated on the floor, enjoying the snacks or drinks you bought for them. 

tsukishima, the only other person still standing besides yachi and kiyoko, converses with you just a few feet away from the group, but they’re all busy eating or drinking. the two female managers, though, listen in with a knowing look and the smallest smirk on their lips. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

you return, one again, a week later. but instead of dropping by while they were in the middle of training, you opened the doors and greeted everyone with the dark sky of the night behind you.  

“ah [lastname]-san! what are you doing so late?“ sugawara steps in as the vice captain, daichi being away to talk with their coach and club advisor about the upcoming training camp in tokyo. 

“i’m waiting for—“

“we’re holding a study session later at my house,“ tsukishima speaks up right behind the grey haired third year, walking up to you after to say something before returning back to the court. 

e..eh? did i hear that correctly? it’s almost past 7pm though...

“[lastname]-san!“ hinata and kageyama approach you with a slight jog, passing their frozen vice captain by the side. “thanks for the notes you gave us yesterday, it really helped make me understand the topic better!“

“thank you for tutoring us yesterday, even though it was a break time and you were probably busy and had other people needing your help and—“

“i told you, i’m happy to help, kageyama-kun!“

ah, right. she’s just an angel doing her angel duties, sugawara sighs, his mind now clear and grounded. there’s no way someone like tsukishima would be in a relationship with an angel like her...

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

...right?

the team, currently on their break, discusses about the possible reasons why you’ve been visiting them weekly for the past two months. you’ve never spoken up about it specifically, and there’s nothing really obvious that the team can focus on to hypothesize about the question at hand. 

ennoshita, having observed the times you’ve visited them and how you interact with the team, explained his insights on the situation. 

first, none of the second or third years have spoken up about having a significant other, nor has any of them heard or knew you before you first visited them, so clearly, they’re out of the picture,

second, your first visit was because you had to return something to yachi, but only yamaguchi and tsukishima had talked to you freely as a friend would. 

third, you once gave something to tsukishima, most probably a gift from one of her friends who liked him, and gave her gift through you. which means...

“i had a feeling yamaguchi was really close to her,“ asahi’s eyes light up in understanding. “it’s rare to see him be so talkative and cheerful.“

“no, but the air around them doesn’t seem like it,“ tanaka contributes to the discussion. “[name]-chan has this really light and air aura around her, you can really feel how angelic she is! it seems like there’s just a playful, friendly aura when she’s with yamaguchi.“

“that’s... a really detailed, creepy description, baldy,“ kinoshita strikes an arrow into tanaka’s body.

“first name basis? without asking her? invasion of privacy,“ asahi shivers.

“no wonder kiyoko-san keeps ignoring you.” narita finishes the blow.

“i did not— [name]-chan gave me permission!“ (”yeah, after scaring her into accepting it.” “stop being so brave for nothing, oi!”)

“it still seems off if tsukishima’s the reason,“ nishinoya pouts. ”our angel [name]-chan wouldn’t settle for a guy like tsukishima!” 

“i agree!“

“yeah, she’s too kind for that!”

with collective nods and hums of agreement, the team returns to their training, the summer training camps they had in tokyo and saitama still fresh in their minds despite a few weeks having passed by since. summer had just ended, and the second term for the current academic year has barely started, so they haven’t seen you since the last time you visit them before the month long break.

night approaches, and the day ends for the karasuno male volleyball club  without your prescence. eager to go home, they quickly changed and walked to sakanoshita market for their usual pork buns.

“a.. [name]-chan?!”

with a turn of your head, you greet the team with a smile and a small bow. “i figured you’d come here after training, so i went and bought you guys some pork buns before the get sold out.”

with a dramatic cry, hinata, tanaka and nishinoya fall to their knees and clasped their hands together as they thanked you profusely. after telling them that you had the worker keep the buns steamer to keep them warm, they immediately went to the counter; ukai, with impeccable timing, just entered from the back and immediately scolded them for being loud.

amidst the chaos, however, one person steps in and swiftly starts pulling you towards the exit.

“let’s go,“ tsukishima mumbles, his large hands easily caging your wrist in his grasp. “before the idiots notice—“

“tsukishima, what are you doing?!“

“how dare you steal our [name]-chan away from us!“

“give me a break,“ you hear him complain under his breath with a sigh. you giggle in response but try to hide your hands from the group, remembering that tsukishima had wanted to keep your relationship lowkey as much as possible. especially from the volleyball idiots, you remember him emphasizing. 

“sorry, but we have a project to discuss! yama-kun, let’s go!“ with a last wave goodbye, the three of you escape the team and disappear from their sights. 

as the team walks home while enjoying their warm pork buns, tanaka stops to a halt as he realizes something. “isn’t [name]-chan classmates with yachi and not those two...?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ 

“were you able to study?“

“yeah, thanks for the jacket! library’s freezing, as always.“

the team eyes the two of you from the other side of the gym, suspicious and doubtful of their thoughts due to tanaka’s insightful realization last time. it doesn’t really seem like they’re in a relationship, right? they ask each other through knowing glints of eye contact. there’s no way they’re—

“oh, i heard from this guy that you’ll have the spring high tournament soon!“

“tsukishima got demoted to ‘this guy’, pfft.“

“pfft, ‘this guy’,“ hinata bursts out loud. “tsukishima doesn’t even get called by his name—“

yeah, there’s no way.

for the first time since you started visiting them three months ago, however, you stayed inside to watch the team train for the said competition with permission from daichi and the two adults beside door. 

it’s a change of pace from you and a change of scenery from the team: they’re not used to anyone who’s not a part of their club to watch them, nor did they ever expect that it’d be you, of all people.

“[name]-chan,“ tanaka jogs up to you when their practice officially ended and the time to clean and tidy up the gym has started. “are you waiting for tsukishima and yamaguchi again? to talk about your, uhm, project?“

“no, i’m just waiting for kei.“

“k-kei?“

“yes?“ tanaka turns around to see tsukishima standing behind him, his hands on his hips and bored look on his face, but if you look closely, you’ll notice a hint of mischief in his golden eyes and the slightest smirk on his lips. “do you need something, tanaka-san?“

“you’re kei? i thought your name was hotaru!“

“nope, it’s read as kei.“ 

“i thought you were over having people guess your name for you!“

“i’m too tired to put up with people asking how to read it.“

tanaka, in the middle of your bickering, can feel his brain explode and his heart shatter slightly. i can’t believe it. fuck you, tuskishima. nishinoya, noticing his best friend’s frozen form in between you and tsukishima, jogs up to tanaka with slight concern.

“it’s true.” it’s the only think he can say before numbly looking at the two of you still bickering. 

“maybe i’ll call you hotaru instead of kei then—“ (”k-kei? who?”)

“fine, i’ll stop.“ (”him?!”)

“good. you’re no longer a middle schooler, loser.“

“with your height, you’re the middle schooler here.“

fuck you, tsukishima.

“rude!“

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

m.list

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

Your recent ask for me was so in-depth and lovely. I wish I had something like that for you! But I don't. (I will try and find one for next time!)

So instead tell me 3 of your favorite sickfic tropes and write a fic for both of us that includes all 3 :)

I have plenty of sickfic tropes tickle my fancy, but here are three that I enjoy:

1. Reversed Caretaking (A gets sick, gets taken care of by B, then B gets sick; we have that in common, if memory serves. 😉)

2. Herculean Rejection (A can’t possibly be sick, and even if they are, they simply don’t have the time to be ill - they have too much to do!)

3. More Than A Sick Body (A isn’t used to being taken care of, usually for very sad reasons, and is found to be overworked to the point of sickness and not willing to take care of themselves; now that they are forced to rest, B can now see how deeply broken A is and can begin showing them love and support).

*****************

Ghast let out a shuddering breath, bringing his thin cloak closer to himself. He was a master of hiding his true intentions, but his headache had made him a bit clumsier than usual.

“Is his lordship well?”

The wizard’s ward, Basil, stood at attention, ready to tend to whatever answer was given to his query. Ghast cleared his throat.

“I am only tired,” he replied, hoping to assuage any concern. “I was awake many hours in pensive study - my spell was nearly completed, and there was no point leaving it to rot overnight.”

Basil nodded. “T’would be a waste, my lord, you’re right.”

Ghast held back a yawn as he turned another page in his book. He had read the same passage twice already, but he couldn’t seem to focus his eyes onto the neatly inked words below him. A cold breeze blew by, and Ghast grasped at his cloak once again.

The wind must have brought a few mischievous passengers, because the next thing the wizard knew, his nostrils were trembling in the frigid air. Ghast brought out his handkerchief and buried his face into it.

“IT’CHIIIEW! Ih...hih...HITCH’CHNX!”

By the third and fourth sneeze, Ghast had pressed an already sopping cloth to his face. Basil slid a bit closer to his master to offer his own handkerchief.

“My lord...”

Ghast sniffled thickly. “Only allergies, Basil.”

Basil folded up his handkerchief again after Ghast waved it away, then allowed himself a small smile.

“Ah, yes,” he said, “those blasted winter allergies. Shall we return to the manor, then?”

“I subbose. I can hardly con - hih! - concentra...IT’CHIIEW!”

*******************

Ghast was sent straight to bed with plenty of honey and lemon. By the time the pair made it back to the manor, the wizard was in no position to argue. He could barely keep his eyes open, let alone resist Basil’s comforting touch.

However, as the day went on, it became clear that Basil was going to have to keep a close eye on his patient.

“Ah, my lord...you should be in bed! This library is full of dust and drafts - you’ll catch pneumonia at this rate!”

Ghast looked up from his desk, one hand on his nose and the other in the middle of writing a shaky couplet.

“I thought of the most wonderful rhyme,” he mumbled, “but it isn’t nearly as eloquent now that the quill is wet and the parchment is tainted.”

“What irony that the man with a full nose and a sick mind speaks these phrases with such ignorance.”

This happened several more times, Basil getting more and more frustrated each time. He could see his master’s decline. Stress, sleepless nights, and days spent collecting samples in the stinging winter air had already caught up to Ghast - now it was going to swallow him whole.

Every hour for the entire evening, Basil would check on Ghast only to find the bed empty and a fit of loud sneezes coming from the library. He would lead his master by the hand to his room, put him to bed, close the door, and the cycle would begin anew.

Finally, after eight consecutive scoldings, Basil was at his limit.

At ten thirty, the ward marched stiffly into Ghast’s office. His master was facing the window, watching an icy blizzard through frost covered window panes.

“I cannot help but feel,” Basil said in a low voice, “that you are trying my patience on purpose. Not only is this the umpteenth time you have left your warm bed to wander about in this dingy study, but now you are in front of the window, inhaling the very thing that made you ill in the first place.”

Ghast only coughed in response. Basil crossed his arms.

“I am not a nanny, nor your mother, but I feel at least a bit responsible for you, especially since you can’t be bothered to take care of yourself. For a scholar and a wizard, you have been making terrible decisions on your behalf, and frankly, I’m a bit ashamed of it at times. Have you any sense at all?”

Ghast leaned back, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. Basil sighed and rolled his eyes, preparing another handkerchief.

“See, you’re already sniveling! What did I tell you about this office of yours?! At least light the fireplace, if you must insist...”

There was no answer. The only sound between them was the wind howling outside the manor and the harsh scratching of tree branches against solid brick. Basil checked himself, realizing he had spoken quite out of turn.

“My lord, I apologize. I meant no disrespect, really - I just worry. You look so ill and out of sorts, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you dropping dead from bronchitis. Please, my lord, at least consider your health! For my sake, if not your own.”

Ghast did not stir.

“My lord...?”

Basil side-stepped toward the window, hoping to catch his master’s gaze.

“Oh.”

Ghast’s face was drawn with pure misery. Pain streamed out of his eyes and stained his collar, and the wizard’s lip quivered in a desperate attempt to keep his figure from falling apart. His pale cheeks were flushed with emotion and cold, and his sniffling only barely kept them both at bay. Basil put his fingertips on Ghast’s heaving shoulder.

“More is weighing upon your frame than a fever, my lord,” the ward murmured. “If only I had known. What troubles you so? What brings such bitter tears to your eyes?”

Ghast gritted his teeth, trying to bite back his sobs.

“I r-really am pathetic, aren’d I?”

“Oh, your lordship,” Basil crooned. “The only thing that is pathetic is your illusion of bravery. You must allow yourself a little rest, especially when you aren’t feeling well. This sniffle of yours is really troubling you, isn’t it?”

Ghast nodded once, leaving his chin to rest on his chest. Basil put his hands on his master’s neck, feeling for fever. His fingers came back covered in tears.

“You simply must come to bed. I insist. I implore. You’re going to get a chill, standing by the window like that...”

“B-bud I mustn’d be lih...lazy...hih...”

Ghast brought a tight knuckle against his nose, struggling against his sensitive nostrils. He knew that any strain would worsen his headache. Besides, he didn’t want Basil to worry too much about him. He had already made the grave mistake of weeping in front of his ward. Ghast wanted to fight for his last shred of dignity, though it soon became clear it was a losing battle.

“Pih...perhabs a bit longer? To gather byself?”

“Of course, my lord.”

Basil wiped his hands with his handkerchief, then offered it to Ghast. The wizard, having little other choice, grabbed it and held it to his pounding nose.

“ITCH’CHNX! CHNX’UH! Huh...”

“You mustn’t stifle them like that...you’ll only hurt your head.”

Ghast grimaced, feeling his temples starting to ache. Suddenly, he felt a warm embrace around his shoulders and a hand around his own. Basil spoke just beside Ghast’s red-tipped ear.

“To steady you, my lord.”

As if on cue, Ghast jerked forward.

“IT’CHIIIIIEW! Hih...HIT’CHIIEW! Hngh...”

As Ghast sneezed again and again, Basil supported him with his unwavering weight, making sure he didn’t knock himself into the many pieces of furniture lining the room. His master finished with a groan and a pitiful shivering.

“Here...”

Basil lifted his master’s handkerchiefed hand and pressed it lightly against his master’s nostrils while he emptied his overflowing nose.

“I think I shall prepare a bit of steam once your fever subsides a little,” the ward said. “For now, let’s get you to bed. You’re absolutely frigid...”

**************

Basil found that taking care of Ghast, once he had agreed to stay in bed, was still easier said than done. Not because his master was high maintenance - in fact, it was quite the opposite. Basil never knew how Ghast was feeling at any given moment. His master could be in the throes of a terrible fever, but answer any concerned queries with, “Better, better...”

Finally, though, Ghast hazarded requests, much to Basil’s relief.

“I...I d-don’d suppose I could trouble you for anuder blanket...?”

“Snrk...I have a handkerchief, please?”

Sometimes, the requests were a bit more subtle. To Basil, it seemed almost like a lost language. Ghast would stare at the empty cup in his hand as a sign he needed more tea, or fiddled with the cold washcloth on his forehead until his ward brought a new one.

“Whad would I ever do withoud you?” Ghast had said while he was nose-deep in yet another tissue.

Basil chuckled. “You would have worked yourself to death, my lord.”

****************

After a week of tending and mending, Basil heard a snatch of humming coming from the office. He opened the heavy oaken door to find Lord Ghast tending to a blazing fireplace. His face was bright with both the flame and a deep satisfaction.

“I took your advice,” Ghast said, eyes still on the fire, “and decided to warm my office up a bit in the colder months. As always, Basil, you are completely and utterly right.”

“That’s wonderful, my lord.”

Ghast looked up at his ward, who was still standing in the doorway. Basil was tracing the room with exhausted eyes, the warm, orange glow of the fireplace getting lost in their dull gaze. A green scarf criss-crossed their neck like a noose.

“Why don’t you come and sit for a spell?” Ghast suggested. “You look a trifle pallid.”

“I must regretfully decline. I have quite a few duties to attend to.”

“I’m afraid this is not a request, Basil.”

Basil tightened his scarf, then did as he was told, sitting on a sofa near where Ghast was standing. His master soon joined him on a small ottoman.

��Have you been to market today?” Ghast asked gently.

“No, my lord.”

“To the chickens?”

“No, my lord.”

“Had you an appetite for walk?”

“No, my lord.”

Ghast reached out and tugged at Basil’s scarf, raising one eyebrow.

“Have you a lover who bestowed you with passionate marks?”

“O-of course not, my lord!”

“I was only teasing, Basil.”

The wizard, in his good humor, took an end of the scarf and let the ends brush on the tip of his ward’s nose. Basil recoiled, his nostrils quivering.

“H-hah! P-pardon, I’ve got to...sih...sdeh...s-sdee...”

Basil laid the length of his scarf across his face and turned away from his master.

“HSH’SHOO! Hih...HISH’SHOOF!”

The ward rubbed his nose with the scarf, which only prompted another itch in his sinuses.

“D-damn weh...wool...HSH’SHEH!”

Ghast slid from the ottoman to the sofa, putting his arm around Basil’s shoulders.

“Here...”

The wizard pulled out a handkerchief and held it against his ward’s nose. Basil sniffled, not even bothering to hold the cloth against his own nostrils.

“T-tank...SHEW!”

“You’re in for a treat, my dear, if you have in fact caught my cold.”

Basil blew his nose mightily.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have the maid wash your handkerchiefs. You sound like you’ll need them.”

*****************

They are 100% together, if that wasn’t clear. God, they are so in love.

Anyway, I’m sorry for being dead for so long story-wise. Had a mighty bad creative dry-up. But I shall prevail! I have plenty more asks, and plenty more ideas.

As always, you can count on the Hand Slipped Guarantee! You hate it, I can rewrite it. Thank you, @perfectpaperbluebirds , you are always a treat to write for!

[luckhound]

— best laid plans.

pairing.  dino/gender neutral reader

genre.  humour, fluff

request.  OHH for the dates gone wrong prompts, Dino and the crabs one?? slfndkdj THANK YOU FOR YOUR WONDERFUL WRITING!! —@what-the-fuck-khr​

description.  you’ve been stressed as of late, but your boyfriend comes up with a plan to fix that. because your boyfriend is dino cavallone, it doesn’t go as expected.

note.  so this has been collecting dust in my drafts for months now, but i finally got the inspiration to finish it and post it. hope that makes up for the wait :^)

Sometimes it’s easy to forget who Dino is. He’s a total dork, has a tendency to trip over both his words and his own two feet, and rarely takes himself seriously.

Then he does something that reminds you just how important and influential he is, like fly you on his jet to a private island he owns. All because you complained about how stressed you’ve been feeling lately once.

“I thought you could use a vacation,” he’d said when you expressed your shock, grinning widely. “It’ll be just the two of us!”

As suddenly as he’d sprung the idea, it was still sweet of him to plan it for you. So you had smiled back, his excitement infectious and sparking your own...

Which was when Romario cleared his throat and clarified that he and Dino’s subordinates would be accompanying you. Obviously, you tell yourself later. It’d be dangerous for him to travel alone, especially with a civilian like you, who can’t fight.

It can be easy to forget, but Dino is the Cavallone boss. He’s not just your boyfriend. You made your peace with that long ago, because you know he has his obligations, and there are many.

But he never lets you feel like an afterthought, or unimportant. That’s why you love him anyway.

Plus, it’s not too bad, all things considered. At least Dino can keep both his feet under him with his men with the two of you. You enjoy that privilege as you stroll along the beach, hand-in-hand with your boyfriend, inching close to the shoreline and jogging away once the waves reach you. His subordinates are nearby, but they’re enjoying themselves as well and far away enough that you have some semblance of privacy. You’ll take what you can get.

Dino squeezes your hand, prompting your attention. “How is everything so far?” he asks. “Are you feeling a bit better?”

You squeeze back. “I’m feeling much better. Thanks for bringing me here.”

He beams at your response. “Of course! I know when I’m feeling stressed, a change of pace helps me out. I thought it might do the same for you.”

This is more than a change of pace, in your opinion, but you understand the intention behind it. So you nod and swing your joined hands, closing your eyes and breathing in the fresh air. The tranquility of the moment washes over you. Waves crash against the shore, seagulls cry out as they soar in the sky, and Dino breathes quietly beside you...

Then he yelps, and the tranquility is gone.

“Dino?” You turn to him, alarmed when you spot tears gathering in his eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“My toe!” he cries out, confusing you further.

When you look down, though, everything becomes clear.

Since you’re at the beach, both of you had long taken off your sandals to walk barefoot on the warm sand. Which left Dino’s feet vulnerable to pests, like the crab that has the skin of his big toe pinched between its claws.

“Oh!” you say, at a loss for words. The times you’ve frequented the beach, you’ve never had to deal with something like this before. “Uh! Why don’t you, um. Shake it off?” That should get rid of the crab, surely?

“R-Right!” He lifts his foot and shakes his leg, looking completely ridiculous. Worse, the crab just dangles from his toe, refusing to let go. He cries out again. “Ack! Now it hurts even more!”

You look around, perplexed, then realize Dino’s screams must have alerted his men. They might have a better idea of what to do. You glance over your shoulder.

Only to find them staring in your direction, not moving a muscle to help their boss, in hysterics. One of them even appears to be holding his phone up, recording.

...Okay, you should’ve expected that. And, seeing as your boyfriend isn’t in any real danger, it is kind of funny. You thought situations like this only happened in comedies. The corners of your mouth twitch, but you resist the urge to smile.

Unfortunately, Dino notices. “Hey! Don’t laugh. I’m in pain over here!”

“I’m not laughing!”

“But you want to! I can tell!”

“Don’t you have bigger things to worry about right now?”

“Yeah! And you’re not helping!” Dino looks down at his foot, grimacing. Then his eyes widen. “Oh, no. No.”

You follow his gaze. To your horror, you see, scuttling across the sand, a crab inching its way towards the two of you. But the crab is still hanging off Dino’s foot. Which means there is more than one.

You scan the ground, your thought proven correct. An army of crabs are advancing on you, their pincers held aloft and practically gleaming in the sunlight. You stumble backwards. Thankfully, they don’t follow after you. It’s as if they don’t even notice you’re there.

Because they’re too busy following Dino.

“What the...” He hops away once, then twice, but they only hurry to close the distance. “Where did all of these crabs come from? I didn’t even do anything to them!”

Whatever the reason, the crabs are gaining on him. One swipes at him with a pincer, but he manages to hop away before it succeeds in the attempt.

“Guys!” Dino calls out. To his men, you realize after a beat. “A little assistance, here?!”

Instead of springing into action, his subordinates cup their hands over their mouths and shout encouragements. Behind them, Romario reclines on a folding chair, sunglasses perched on his nose and completely at peace.

“You got this, boss!”

“We believe in you!”

“Keep at it! You’re almost safe!”

“Man, the others are gonna love this...”

Still hopping away, Dino yells over his shoulder, “At least throw me my whip, you assholes!”

As you watch, in disbelief at what you’re seeing, he hobbles down the beach, followed closely by the crustaceans. He’s still flailing his foot, hoping to dislodge the crab on his toe, to no avail.

You stare. Then you bend over in laughter, clutching at your stomach.

This isn’t what you were expecting when Dino proposed a romantic getaway to his (one of several) private island. But it worked. Stress is the last thing on your mind right now.

And it’s all thanks to your loving boyfriend. In a way.

[perksofbeingatallpotato]

Birthdays

Harry Hart x Reader  Warnings: N/A Word Count: 1060 (see what I did there ;) ) A/N: So, some glitch happened, the draft I saved on my laptop using Chrome got its content erased when I posted it using my phone at about 12mn. My stupid ass made no back-ups because I never had a problem with Tumblr before, but thank God Microsoft Word saved me with its awesome features.  I rushed this fic in time for Colin Firth’s birthday, and I can say with absolute confidence that this is not one of my best works. But I still hope you guys will enjoy reading this. I started writing this last year, it was just sitting in my drafts, collecting dust, until yesterday. It’s not everyday that Colin turns 60, so I wanted to do something. In this fic, imagine Arthur’s Sir Giles, the one from TGC, because he seems pretty chill.  And one last thing, if you’re on Twitter, I hope you join in on making Colin Firth a Trending Topic on his birthday (September 10), and you can also use the #ColinFirthSweetSixty. Stay safe everyone!

As a spy, giving up a normal life is mandatory. One is expected to have little to no ties outside of the agency. Human connection could be a weakness when you are in this line of job, and weaknesses are bad for business. It’s just the safety of the world that depends on the quality of Kingsman's business.

Which explains how Harry Hart was never fond of celebrating his birthday. And he’s still partial to this when you came along.

From what he told you, Harry last celebrated his birthday when he was a teen, before he joined the military. Since then, he only gets a call from his mother on his birthdays and spends an hour or two with Merlin and James, former Lancelot, may he rest in peace, having drinks if they weren’t sent on missions.

Today, you asked Arthur if you could take an early day off at work. There's not much to do, and mainly because you had planned something for Harry's birthday.

It was a slow day. Out of boredom, you decided to stop by Merlin's office and ask if you could help him with anything today.

"Hey Merlin!" The wizard peeled away from the screen to look at you. "Percival, what brings ye here?" He asked. "Anything interesting happening?" Instead of answering his question, you also asked him one too. "Nah, everything seems to be good." "So, no missions for us?" You inquired, to which Merlin chuckled. "Do ye really want that?" "It's in the job description, isn't it?" You said as a matter-of-factly. Which prompted Merlin to ask you again. "You sure ye really want to go on a mission today?" The answer to that is a no, of course, but you decided to keep that to yourself. "I did ask for an early off, but I'm bored." "Right, how 'bout this? Your mission today is to pick up Harry's cake on the bakery just around the corner from the shop." "Oh, baking isn't in the skillset of our resident wizard?" "Unfortunately, no, but maybe you already have one prepared?" Your smart-ass mouth might get you in trouble just about now. "Excuse me?" You raised your eyebrow at his question. He just laughed, he handed you the receipt, and sent you on your way.

You and Harry have been dating for months now. You both decided to keep the relationship a secret in order to avoid complications at work. And that conversation with Merlin implied that he might have an idea that you and Harry are dating. What he actually knows, you’re not sure. Asking any further about what he meant would only confirm whatever he thinks, and that’s the last thing you want to do right now.

You didn't tell Harry you were taking an early day off today; the original plan was to stay at your flat and cook dinner together after work. But you wanted to do something more, you want to spoil your man on his birthday.

Merlin picked a simple but large chocolate cake, enough for everyone at the HQ to share. Just as you arrived back in HQ, Eggsy sent you a message through the glasses saying he already got the gift.

To avoid suspicions, you decided to pitch-in on Eggsy's gift for Harry. He insisted that you guys get Harry a ridiculously large, 3-D butterfly painting so he had it commissioned. Then you and Eggsy started to put up the banners in the dining room. Harry was probably busy with paper works in his office. At work, you both try to keep your interactions at a minimum, as it seems impossible to stay in one room together alone without making out.

The afternoon meeting that Arthur called in for was actually for Harry’s birthday surprise at work. This kind of surprises at Kingsman only started when the younger agents joined the table. Fortunately, Arthur was on board and open to new traditions.

On the way home, you picked up a good wine and few other things you're going to need for tonight. Once you arrived, you immediately started prepare for cooking dinner. You can do a decent meal, but Harry’s still the best cook out of the two of you. You texted him a message saying you’ve already done the groceries, so he’d just go straight to your place once he clocked out of work.

When Harry arrived, the table was already set. He was taking off his suit jacket as he walked to the dining room to start cooking when he saw everything’s already done. You could see that he was genuinely surprised and delighted.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, love.” And you planted a kiss on his cheeks.  

After dinner, the two of you sat on your sofa, your head leaning against his chest. The two of you sat in silence in each other’s presence, drinking wine. Yes, you two are staying at your flat tonight, but this, this is home.

"Y/N, remember when I told you that I never liked celebrating my birthday? I somehow still don’t.” You looked up at him. “But not in a bad way. My birthday reminds me of how old I am. How much older I am compared to you.” You smiled at him. “You know that that never bothers me, right? Starting this year, you never have to worry about that. We’ll celebrate your birthday, even if we’re sent on missions. See, without your birthday I would probably be a lonely old maid.” He chuckled. “We both know that’s not true. You’re not old, not yet anyway, and I happen to know a list of men who would court you if they’re given the chance.” “Oh, are you jealous?” “It was my chest you were leaning against earlier, so no.” That’s good to know, you never want him to be jealous, or even give him reasons to.

“Harry, I know you’re not a huge fan of sweets. But I made dessert.” You stood up from the sofa. “I’m a huge fan of anything you make. But I told you, you didn't have to do anything. Having you in my life is already a gift." And if it was possible to love this man so much more, you just did.

“I just wanted to spoil you on your birthday.” “Any more surprises for tonight?” Harry asked “Maybe.” And you winked

[athina-blaine]

MoMM Chapter 3: The Empty Corridors (Preview #2)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion!)

Chapter 3: The Empty Corridors (Preview #1)

Martin snapped up straight, the book nearly tumbling out of his hands, but Jon didn’t seem to notice him at all. His eyes were cast down on the dinner tray as he glided right past Martin and his spot on the lounger.

Bollocks. What did Martin do now? It was one thing for Jon to notice him as he came walking down the hallway and for Martin to strike up a conversation; it was another to shout at him, clamouring for his attention like a child.

Jon was almost out of the foyer. Now or never.

“Jon?”

Jon yelped, the tray jumping in his hands, and Martin covered his mouth, face warming. The cavernous space of the foyer made everything seem louder– his voice had sounded like a crack whip.

“Sorry, sorry, I just, um, uh …” Dammit, what should he say? Nearly two hours of fake-reading a book and he hadn’t thought up something clever and interesting to say in the meantime?

Recovering from his fright, Jon straightened. “Is there any particular reason you’re out here?”

It was so much harder to hear that chill in Jon’s voice when Martin knew what it sounded like soft and gently amused. “Just, you know–” he weakly held up his book “–getting some reading done.”

Jon’s eyes flicked from the book, then back to Martin. “I see. In any case, I have your meal prepared. Would you prefer to eat it here?”

“Oh, uh, yes. Thank you.”

Strolling over, Jon placed the tray on the small table. Martin waited for him to inquire about the book (“–I see you’re almost finished with Kinsey, what do you think?” “Oh! It’s really good, thank you so much for recommending it to me! Would you like to take a seat and maybe we could talk about it some more?” “Yes, Martin, that sounds lovely, tell me what you thought about chapter 3, personally I felt that–”) 

But Jon straightened. Turned back towards the hallway. “I hope it’s to your–”

“Wait, wait.”

Jon paused, and Martin yanked back the hand he’d thrown out. Still too loud. He couldn’t just let Jon walk away, though, not without … something. “I-I was thinking, actually, that, uh,” he glanced down at the tray, “that you don’t have to keep bringing me food.”

“Pardon?”

“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m feeling much better. Definitely all patched up by now, and I know my way around the kitchen and everything. So, yeah, you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“I … see.” A soft flush dusted Jon’s face. “My apologies. I tried to make something more palatable–”

“Oh! No, no, it’s not that at all. I just …”

But Jon’s expression had cooled once more, and the words curdled in Martin’s throat. “I will of course abide by your preference. If you’ll excuse me …”

“Wait.”

Jon whirled around, eyebrows flying up, and Martin could have cried from the mortification of it all. How was he still so loud? “Do you want to read together, sometime? I-I started Kinsey and I think you’re right about his writing style and I was– I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it …”

He trailed off under Jon's unblinking stare and forced down the rest. Is this what an ant felt like trapped under a glass panel? But then, Jon's eyes, with a curious light, flitted to the stack of books. Martin's stomach lifted with hope–

But Jon held up a hand. “Please, you don’t need to worry about me. Carry on.”

He left the foyer, footsteps clicking on the tiled floors before fading.

Martin sighed, long and draining, his shoulders sagging. His eyes dropped to the dinner tray– a sauté today. Jon’s been getting really creative these last few days. The tea looked to be Earl Grey. The vibrant flavours tickled his nose, eliciting a low growl from the pits of his stomach.

He’d best savour it, he thought, taking a small sip of his tea.

.

Okay, so. Jon wanted to be alone. Martin had known that already; frankly, it was a little embarrassing he hadn't backed off before now. Jon didn't owe him his company just because he had no real choice but to board Martin in his home– not unless he wanted to throw Martin out into the blizzard. Besides, Martin had plenty to entertain himself, anyway, things that didn’t include bothering Jon.

It wasn’t long before it became obvious, though, that that wasn’t really true.

“You know, I think I’m really starting to miss working in the castle.”

Phillipa looked on from across the aisle as Martin speared a patch of clean hay into the trough. It had been such a relief when he’d learned that the feeding hay Jon had on reserve was normal and not some freaky collection of worms or something. Phillipa was much luckier than him in this regard.

“Yeah, working there was stressful,” he continued, wiping a hand across his sweaty face, “God knows with the way Griffiths shouted at us all the time. But at least I was doing something, you know? Keeping my hands busy.”

As Phillipa grazed, Martin leaned against the stall door, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, sure, it was mostly grunt work. Anyone could have done it, but I did it, you know? I was at least making someone’s day a little bit easier. I wasn’t …”

The words caught in his throat, and he swallowed them back down. Blast it. He really needed to move on, already.

“I just wish I knew if he was angry with me,” he murmured. “Then I could apologise, right? Make it up to him somehow?”

Phillipa butted his shoulder with the brunt of her nose, and he startled before settling back down. He reached up to pat her nose, running his thumb over the white strip pattern of her face.

"I suppose I can just make my own work. Roll up my sleeves, do a little dusting, maybe? Pluck some weeds? I mean, it's only fair. Not like I'm paying rent or anything. My mum always said idle hands were the devil's playground or something."

And then, maybe, Jon could see Martin could be helpful. Useful.

And then maybe they could talk again.

He just wished that they could talk …

He glanced over to Phillipa. “What do you think?”

She lipped at the wisps of his hair, and he sighed. He felt a bit better now, though. He had met few conversational partners as willing to put up with him as Phillipa. He should probably start getting inside now, though– didn’t want to risk an encounter with John, the dog.

A sudden, sharp pain exploded in his ear and he cried out, jumping back. Phillipa had nibbled on the soft bit of his ear.

“You-” he started, cradling his sore ear. Phillipa lifted her head with him, continuing to chew, content– probably on a bit of his ear. “You’re a very naughty horse, do you know that?”

She snorted in his face.

.

It was decided, then; he’d do a little tidying up in Jon’s greenhouse. Pluck some weeds, clear the pathways of debris, or however else he could make busy. It was certainly the easier task than dusting, anyway– his sinuses wouldn’t stand for it, not without any supplies.

Besides, Jon harvested the vegetables roughly every two or three days, so it might make for a nice surprise, coming in to see the space neat and orderly. After all, nothing cheered Martin up like a little spring cleaning.

He’d found an old cloth and broom in the kitchen cupboard and, after lunch, he ventured into the storm. The winds pummelled his side and he dug his feet into the cobblestone when a strong gust buffeted his side. He knew it’d be a trek, obviously, but he’d no idea it would be this brutal. The wind cut through the fabric of his cloak and, even though the walk was short, by the time he closed the panelled door behind him, his body shook with fierce tremors, his fingers and the tips of his ears burning.

Rubbing some warmth back into his extremities, he hung his cloak and took hold of the broom’s handle. May as well get the easy bit out of the way. He’d always liked sweeping– it was easier than polishing or mopping, at least. Less back strain.

Dirt and dead leaves littered the path, likely from the freaky vegetable patch, and he swept it all into a tight pile on the dustpan. Easy and quick to complete, yes, but, as Martin surveyed the clean floors, he let himself savour the pinprick of pride. It was nice to be working again. At least he was making a difference, even if it was a little one.

Now, the plots.

Rolling up his sleeves, he settled down by the plot closest to him, crouching on the cold floor. It had been ages since anything had been planted here, the dry and dusty soil crusting under his fingernails as he plucked out twigs and cracked roots. As he stood to move to the second plot, a jolt shot through his knees and weeks.

Two weeks of a comfortable bed and skipping out on proper hard work and he’d already gone soft. Not good. He’d need to build back up his stamina.

The second plot took even less time than the first. He settled back on his haunches, dusting off hands. This wasn’t taking as long as he thought it would, but that made sense. The only plot that needed any real tending to was the one with the dead rose bushes, but with the way Jon reacted when Martin had seen them, it didn’t seem right to weed them without his permission. Maybe Martin could ask–

A loud slam. Martin jumped, whirling around.

Jon leaned against the entryway door, eyes closed, letting out a slow, relieved breath. Snow clung to his cloak and dappled the curls of his hair. Martin's heart thrummed with anxiety– he didn't think Jon would come here now. It was supposed to be a surprise.

Before he could think of what to do, Jon opened his eyes, and they locked on Martin. Jon stiffened with surprise and Martin sat there, frozen.

He lifted a shaky hand. “H-hello.”

“What on earth are you doing out here?”

Martin took his hand back, nearly a flinch. Bad start. “I-I thought I could help tidy things up. Um, I was thinking about maybe dusting next. You know, make myself useful.”

Jon let out a long sigh through his nose, riddled with exasperation and impatience, and Martin just barely stopped himself from curling up with embarrassment. “Martin, please. Despite the circumstances, you are still my guest– there’s no need for this.”

“No, no, I really don’t mind–”

“I promise that the manor doesn’t need your attention.” Carving a path to the vegetable patch, Jon crouched down, reaching for the stem of one of the radishes. He hadn’t even turned around when he spoke to Martin. “Please, take this time for yourself.”

Martin wanted to say something– was desperate for it, actually. It’s really no trouble and I just need something to keep myself busy and please just let me do this, I need this.

But Jon made himself clear. He didn’t need, or want, Martin’s help.

Martin stood. Hesitated, just a moment. But Jon had moved on to the eggplants. He didn’t look back as Martin approached the greenhouse door, and closed it behind him.

-

END PREVIEW

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