#this has been one of the most productive and eye opening conversations i have ever had

[mo-aiki]

I now love you, is it too late? (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)

Summary: Heartbreak and romance are two sides of the same coin. They both deal with love between another. Your heart is broken but you are trying to move on, but someone is preventing you from doing so.

Notes: I never thought that the previous story would blow up like it did. You can read the first part here.

Warning: alcohol consumption, drugging someone, forced love, obsession, stalking, mentions of violence, I don't condone it, I just write it.

The days after his conversation with you, he should had been elated. For the first time in his life, he wasn't bothered by you and your antics. He could finally get work done without you bother him at every corner to come visit him or play with him. For the first few days, he was able to finish everything for once in his life instead of having a pile to do the next day. But overtime, somehow he was dreadfully bored.

His office felt quiet. Almost too quiet. The only sounds he could make out were the papers shuffling, the clock ticking, and the the voices that came in and out of his office.

Also, overtime he had completed work for the month. He was used to working more the next day and having work stacked up to the point that he needed to catch up, that now he has no idea what to do once he finished work for a month or two.

Alaric thought he could read. He has always enjoyed reading in his free time. But once he got to reading, he felt bored once again. He never realized that the books he read were nothing but boring. The books were full of political theory, history of the most boring topics, and informative information.

His lunches were quiet, his dinners were quiet, and his stomach often rumbled when he forgot to eat.

Life felt repetitive, boring, and dull. He was stuck in a routine of eat, work, and sleep. Nothing ever happened.

When (y/n) was here, she would always drag him somewhere, she had wanted to go to. To go shopping, a picnic, a play, an opera, to watch duals, or to eat. He always felt tired after those things, but at least it brought him excitment.

(y/n) often made sure he would eat flavorful foods and her favorite foods, to the point that he knows everything she likes.

(y/n) often made a ruckus in his home. Always talking, calling servant’s, squealing at her romance novels, and chatting with everyone.

'At least the manor was never deadly quiet whenever she was around...' he thought of as he smirked.

Wait. Why is he thinking about her?

He should be happy that she is no longer bugging him as often as she did.

He saw you outside. He was shopping for new cufflinks. His were "getting out of style" his secretary had told him. Maybe it was just a ploy to get him out of the manor, but he still went out nevertheless. He was in a jewelry shop. Unconsciously, he went to the one you often visited. The man knew who he was anyways, so might as well cut to the chase.

"Ah?! Your Grace!"

The man seemed to be looking for (y/n). "Where is Lady (l/n)? Doesn't she often accompany you?"

He just stood quiet for a moment before his secretary popped in. "His Grace is here to get cufflinks."

The man's eyes brighten. "Ah. Lady (l/n) has already thought of that for you. Please wait here Your Grace."

He brought out a box that he had gotten from a certain part of the store. He opened it, and there were square shaped, dark blue jewels, bordered with small diamonds, the metal gold. It looked like it suited him. Very well. She knew his taste well. She knew what he liked.

"If Your Grace does not like it, you can commission another..." said the man selling him the product.

Alaric shook his head. "No, it's perfect."

He signaled at his secretary to give him a generous check in his name as he left the shop, only to find you, looking at the ocean view from across the shop.

Why did it look like you were looking for something?

More importantly, why did it look like you were looking for someone?

You wore a bright dress, your favorite lace gloves, your prettiest sunhat and carried your favorite parasol.

He was confident that he was the only man who has ever had a very close relationship with you, other than acquaintanceship.

Wait, why was he thinking this?

Why should he care if you saw another man. This is an engagement of convenience anyways. There is no point in scrutinizing every man that either comes or came in your life.

But if you were going to be talking to men after him, they better be better than him. He was not going to be beaten by some half-rate man, who has never held a sword in his life, who has never had to train often to live up to your a standard(s), who has never had to deal with the responsibilities of being a duke from the moment he was born, who has not needed attention from you, and who has never lived up to your ideas of love.

He wasn't going to lose to a man who never even knew you like he did.

But he saw you were being accompanied by a maid after his thoughts had raged through his head. He walked closer towards you. He saw you.

Your eyes had seemed like the eyes that often looked his way when he greeted someone. Not like their lively selfs that he was so used to from you. Your eyes always shone brightly when he was in your presence.

Your smile, one of formality, not your genuine one. You smiled the brightest whenever he was around. Anyone could tell with that smile that you loved him.

You looked like any other person he had interacted with. Formal and in-line with etiquette.

Even your speech was formal. It was no longer bright and cheerful. It was no longer, "Alaric! What are you doing here?", it was now, "Pleased to see you, Duke Caius."

"It's pleasant to see you too, Lady (y/n)." he responded back.

You nodded you head while a wave of silence came through. He didn't talk, you didn't talk, both of you were looking at the distance of this port.

'She is rather quiet. Too quiet..." he thought in his head. Often she was the one who started up a conversation.

"I'm very sorry Duke Caius, but I must leave. I am shopping with a friend, and I wouldn't want them to keep on waiting for me, so, please excuse me."

You started walking off slowly, but then he spoke. "Would you like for me to escort you?"

You turned your head. He thought you would be smiling and agreeing to his suggestion immediately, holding his arm in a loving manner and chatting with him the entire way, like you used to do whenever he had brought out that idea.

But you had shook your head. "No, but thank you for your suggestion, Duke Caius. My guard is nearby here anyways."

You walked off as he could only look at you and your maid walking. He didn't even realize that his secretary had came back, as he only chased after you in the same direction.

He saw from a distance, you holding the arm of some man. A dull man. He was mad at that moment, but his anger wasn't towards you, it was towards the man you were with.

You had became more distant with him. Avoiding him at every moment, like he was the plague. Every time he noticed her, she had seem to always step away from him, with every step she had taken, walking away from him instead of towards him like they used to do.

At parties, you would often avoid him, while his arm was being stuck onto by Lady Thompson.

Social events had you talking to the ladies, sparring no time for him.

Outings with no small talk.

Every little thing you had done to distance yourself from him, almost drove him insane. His head now full of questions for your sudden change in personality. In the span of a few weeks, you had all of the sudden became the most formal person on earth, to the point people started questioning the legitimacy of the relationship.

"It seems like they will break up soon..."

"Are we sure they are engaged? Lady (l/n)'s sudden change in personality must mean something..."

"How sad this relationship had to come to. It feels like they are in a married’s quarrel!"

"I heard that Marquis (l/n) is planning on annulling their engagement..."

"Really?!"

These nobles and their chatty lips. These rumors meant nothing. (y/n) would never let something like an annulment happen to them.

He was bewildered. Shocked. Almost appalled with this letter.

He thought that she had delivered a letter to write to him once again, but this time, this letter was from Marquis (l/n).

Dear Duke Caius,

I regret to have informed you, that I am making a selfish and personal decision to annul this engagement between you and my daughter. I have came to this decision after her reaction and my bewilderment at the Royal Ball from 4 months ago, after you had escorted Lady Alina Thompson instead of my daughter.

I could see the heartbreak in her eyes, and as a father, it is painful to constantly see your daughter in constant heartbreak from the very boy you had known since he was young.

When your late father and I had planned this engagement for the both of you, I knew I would have to give up my precious daughter to a man I could trust, not a little boy who has yet to grown up.

You have yet to proven to me that you could be a man I could trust you with my only child, my daughter.

I wish you well and hope you will continue to collaborate and see the (l/n) house positively and as allies.

Sincerely,

Marquis (l/n)

The letter came with the annulment papers with it. He quickly looked through the papers too see your signature on them and your thumb print.

He stood quiet for a minute, before chuckling. "(y/n)...oh (y/n)..."

He felt like ripping the papers to shreds in the very moment.

You were happy for once in your life. You had met someone special to you. Arthur Johnson.

A stableman who engaged in conversation with you when he was working for your family. He always had a kind demeanor. soft spoken, and was often willing to hear you. Despite your age gap with him (being 10 years), his status as a commoner, and his rugged appearance, you felt like for the first time in your life, you had actually met your prince charming.

He took on dates to the crowded places like small festivals and the farmer markets. Your first present from him being a cheap pendent necklace from him.

His personality was well liked by everyone as he seemed to have a good relationship with everyone.

His voice was deep and attractive, smothering your ears and causing you to blush around him whenever he talked.

He always called you 'princess' or 'my lady' whenever out and about with you, causing you to be flustered at such comments.

He had introduced you to his ailing mother. You never felt so bad for anyone. You had offered to help him, but instead he rejected such offers from you. "My lady, you really don't need to help us..."

"Nonsense Arthur! Your mother is sick and-"

He always shook his head. "I do not want to rely on my lady to always help us. Thank you for the idea though."

Elliot was boring.

Gregory was pretentious.

Adonis was suspicious.

Adrian was paranoid.

But Arthur, was a gentleman.

Until you never heard back from him one day.

He had holed up in his manor until something had happened. He had gotten news of you being spotted on dates with other men.

Afterwards he had a reason to leave the manor from this point onwards. You were with a man after man often times. Talking, chatting, flirting, and being brought around with. He had his secretary look at the backgrounds of those men.

Low-ranking noblemen, and sometimes even commoners.

The perfect people to direct his anger at. After all, what are those families and people associated with them, are going to do against the wrath of Duke Caius and the Caius Duchy.

All of the sudden, these men had been riddled with debt and their families in financial ruins.

A son of a baron, tricked by a scammer he had paid for. He had fell for it, meaning he was too naive and not needed for (y/n), who was just as equally naive.

A son of a viscount, conned and arrested for the possession and the selling of forged art. The real artwork, costing millions, and in his own manor. He "might" had hired an artist to help him with it, paying off their own debt and giving them money. He was too irresponsible that he didn't even check to see if the artwork was genuine. (y/n) would had lived a life of cleaning up after him.

Another son of a baron, swallowed by loan debt after taking out loans to do his playboy schemes. He often bought expensive stuff in order to impress the women he was trying to bed with. Where did he get the loans from? He sure doesn't know, does he? He had troubles with infidelity. He will he constantly cheating on (y/n) if Alaric didn't catch it early enough.

A son of an earl, swallowed in gambling debt by him. He had seen him in the casino houses, and he thought why not taunt him. Plus, he paid off the casino house to always make him win no matter what. He was a gambling addict, spending his days holed up and gambling his money away. (y/n) would be left to die on the streets with nothing if she had been with him.

A stableman, in loan debt as well, after he had offered to help him with his ailing mother. But now his mother dead, and the loans still needed to be paid off. Otherwise, he could just kill him and sell his organs to the black market to get all the money back from him. Guess what option he did. He was poor, and poor men don't deserve her love if they cannot give her what she wanted. Plus, he might just brag often about his now, new lifestyle if she were to be with him.

The stableman was the most annoying in his eyes. His last words before he had slain him were, "Protect her for me, please, for this old bachelor..."

All of these men strengthen his point overtime. That he was the perfect man for her.

He is skeptical and less naive.

He is responsible.

He has never had issues with infidelity that he has known of.

He has never been financially irresponsible with money, nor has he gambled.

He has always had the ability to give her everything she has ever wanted.

He came to the eventual conclusion.

No man could replace him.

You felt trapped.

A rumor had spread around about Duke Caius's wedding day coming up. You thought he was just going to get married to Alina, but instead you and your father were summoned by His Majesty.

He was congratulating you and your soon to be wedding day. "Congratulations Lady (l/n)! You must be a happy bride. And you too Marquis (l/n)!"

You and your father were confused, but still acted like everything was normal, until you brought it up. "Excuse me Your Majesty, but who has told you about this. I thought I had wanted it to be a smaller event..."

His Majesty let out a gleeful laugh. "Duke Caius came to me last week, talking about how now he had decided to plan his wedding. I thought it was a splendid idea! And thus I had given him permission to use the chapel. He seemed elated at the idea, and thus was willing to plan the wedding himself."

Your eyes widen as you nodded. Your head blanking out the entire time. 'Isn't that impossible, unless...'

You went running out of the palace, finding a carriage to use to get to the Ducal Manor. You needed an explanation of what was going on.

Once you got there, you immediately asked the butler where he was, only to see Alaric, looking happy to see you as he came down the stairs to the front of the manor.

"(y/n), my bride! You are just in time for your dress fitting."

He snapped his fingers to have the servants taking you somewhere as he followed, you resisting. "Wha-? No! Alaric, I have to ask about something!"

He smiled in front of you. The previous you would had elated and been happy at his smile. But now it felt uncanny. Like something was off.

"You have finally called my name..."

You gasped as the servants kept on dragging you to your dress fitting. His hand over his heart as he looked like a sad puppy all of the sudden. "Do you know what it feels like to be called one name for my whole entire life with such endearment, only for it to be taken away?"

"No! That's why I'm not here! LET GO OF ME!"

He snapped his fingers as the servants let go of you. He walked towards you, as he placed his hand on your cheek. All you could feel was how cold it was. Like it was ice. You looked directly at him. "I am here to ask, why are we getting married?!"

His puppy face came back, as both of his hands cupped you face. "(y/n), I thought this is what you had wanted..."

Your eyes widen as he looked directly at you. "A big fairy tale wedding, your dream dress, your knight in shining armor sweeping you off your feet, true love's first kiss...isn't this what you had wanted all your life?"

This is what you had always wanted, but not like this. Not while Alaric had this sudden shift in personality and when he felt completely different form the Alaric you had knew.

But also, when your feelings for him had wavered like tides in an ocean. "But I thought the annulment had gone through..." you had said to him.

He chuckled, soon going onto full blown laughter. "(y/n), I know you still want to get married to me. So let's have the wedding of your dreams." he said while placing a kiss on your forehead, something you would had blush at, if everything about this wasn't sketchy.

"But! But!"

"No buts. We are getting married in 9 days anyways. Now, let's go to your dress fitting!"

Everything was too sketchy these past 7 days. Alaric had a sudden change in personality. An extreme one in fact. He all of the sudden became loving.

Following you everywhere.

Bringing you onto his lap while he works.

Having picnics with you.

Having tea with you.

Being your dance partner for practicing.

Locking you in his manor and giving you a splendid guest room while at it.

Coming into your room and reading you to sleep.

Increasing security around you.

Feeding you himself, personally.

Disciplining the male servants if they had touched you.

And the most weird one, not leaving your room, even while you slept.

He had changed, but for what? Now all you felt was creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior. Every single little thing done by him almost felt suffocating. Like he so desperately needed you to either be beside him or to in this manor.

You wanted to see your friends again. You wanted to talk to people again. You wanted to see your father again. You wanted to go shopping again. You wanted to see Arthur again. You wanted to do the things you did. You wanted to leave this suffocating manor for once and do something other than being restrained by him.

So you snooped. When he left, you went around his office. Previously, you had always barged into his office, always running your mouth in a tasteless way. But this time, you had avoided his office, unless he dragged you to it to be with him.

You looked around with something on your mind. "He must have the annulment papers somewhere..."

There was a family portrait of him and his father in his office. A portrait must mean that there's something behind it. Touching the frame, you opened up a secret compartment that was full of bank statements. "Elliot Lancaster, Gregory McClain, Adonis Lovesett, Adrian Hill, Arthur Johnson..."

All the men you had been with. The bank statements had shown how their wallets had gone empty in the span of a week or two.

Elliot and his family had gone bankrupt and sent to an island in the north.

Gregory had been charged with forgery and sentenced to 3 years in prison.

Adonis had been bankrupt and charged with assault against a Marquis for mingling with his wife.

Adrian had been cut off from his family due to his gambling addiction, and has now gone further in debt.

And Arthur. The nice man Arthur. His body was never founded when his mother reported him as missing.

Your eyes widened in horror as you looked at the other pages. He had planned it. From the financial debt to killing Arthur and selling his body parts on the black market. Each paper described the reports of the deeds he had done.

Especially for Arthur. His was the most gruesome one. Chopping him up into bits and selling his innards to the black market while dumping the rest to the ocean on Beckett's Beach, where you took your first date with him.

You couldn't help but squat out of fear immediately. Were you responsible for all of these mens' demise?

Would Elliot and his family still be living in the capital in peace if he never met you?

Would Gregory go back to being his artistic and art loving self if he didn't buy from that one painter you had told him to buy from?

Adonis was already kinda shitty.

Would Adrian change if you had stayed with him?

Would Arthur still be alive if you never noticed him?

You didn't know, and that's when you started crying. Your tears fell down rapidly like waterfalls. The papers, the bank statements, the pieces of news, the reports, all of them now wet with your tears on the paper. You couldn't help but feel for them, especially Arthur.

Arthur was now dead, and his mother soon meeting him.

And it felt like it was all your fault.

"We'll always be together, my lady, this old stableman promises."

Crying alone in Alaric's study, you thought about the moments you had with Arthur. They were all going to be a faded memory of the past. If only you weren't so naive and if only you knew.

"Why is my bride crying?"

Your head turned to see Alaric at the door of his study. You gulped as you got up, dusting your dress while at it. "I-it's nothing, Alaric..." you stuttered, trying to hold back your tears.

He came close towards you as he looked at all the papers on the ground and the portrait, open. He chuckled for a bit. "Did you read these?"

You shook your your head. "I just...found them, that’s all. I swear I didn't read them!"

He looked at the papers, then at you. You could tell he knew that you were lying. He always said you were an open book and how you wore your heart on your sleeve. "Don't bother lying (y/n)."

He pointed to the part on which you had stained with your tears. The paper transparent as he put the papers down on his desk, walking closer to you. Each step growing closer, each step he took feeling like he was mad. Each step felt like an eventual punishment for your actions. "Why were you snooping around in my office, (y/n)?"

You answered with the first thing on your mind. "B-because! I just...w-wanted to l-look around, Y-your Grace..."

"I told you..." He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "Call my Alaric once agin, (y/n)."

His words laced with anger. He was speaking almost like he was threatening you. He looked at the pendent around your neck. Almost like he never noticed it before. Taking the pendent in his fingers, he looked at it obsessively. "Who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

You gulped instead of speaking. His hands felt cold when he touched your cheek, looking at you with his angry eyes. "I said, who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

"A-Arthur..." you mumbled.

"Who?"

"ARTHUR!" you said even louder before he started laughing hysterically.

"That peasant? Why bother keeping something cheap around your neck. I thought you hated these things?"

You used to, but now this necklace represented Arthur. "I-it's none of your b-business, Alaric!" you yelled out.

"It is my business. Considering you are to be my wife soon, something like this is unacceptable for a Duchess..."

He slowly got closer to your ear. "Especially if it came out that a peasant gave you such a thing...I wonder what would happen to your father...for allowing you to be romantically involved with a man of dirty origins..."

Your eyes widen. "Arthur isn't like that! You don't know him!"

You tried to walk out, only for Alaric to hug you from behind, holding you in a tight grip. You felt like you were losing air by the second once he held onto you. "He's never told you? His mother was apart of a brothel..."

You breath stopped as he whispered more into your ear. "He was the illegitimate son of a noble...people like that deserve to be killed for grasping an ounce of your attention..."

You tried to get out of his grip, but instead he had ripped off the necklace on your neck, letting it fall onto the floor and walking off to his desk, letting you go. You cried as you turned back to look at him. "You-you monster!"

He opened a velvet box with a diamond and sapphire necklace, placing it around your neck, smiling. "My beautiful (y/n)..."

He gripped you arms tight, dragging you to the mirror in the study while putting the necklace together, smiling.

"We will be together forever and this necklace, is to symbolize your new life as Duchess."

You only looked at yourself wearing the necklace as Alaric's hands kept you still.

"You can never leave me now..." he said, as he kissed your cheek.

You in your wedding dress as he went out into the hall.

Walking down the aisle with your father.

The flower petals dancing around you.

The songbirds singing their songs.

And your once dream husband at the alter.

"Do you take Duke Caius's hand, in sickness and in health, in wealth and or none, in forever lasting love?

"...I do..."

The final words of your previous life.

A/N: A part 3 for married life or not?

Taglist

@sirenetheblogger @wickedace12 @cyzvx @mel-vaz @blobbythebigblob @loucyberv @nikosovercoat @wintercloudyweather @insomniac1345 @a-living-person @kitcatfullmoon @happy-smiley @springkuinn @sunflower19561904 @hayatslife @oneandonlydice @nanaluvv @imnotabot28 @resident-cryptid @fluffyduckzy @starsdotalk @helloimamistake @pinkwitchdeservesbeingpraised @moyazami @whocaresimnothere @your-average-potato @runawaymf @redchocolate-bunny @sweet-flowering @droaxa @angie2rjebesttt @ersharyzst @lovley-valentine7 @maskedvoyance @xiaopleasecomehome @cynoswife @barbara-228 @uninhibitedsworld-18 @bea-ginner @imsamilol @lithespidy @grassclippingssss @reni502 @forgottendreamer02 @haileybb123 @nourrr123 @strawberrylips-1211 @usagikookiejams @blisyxx @twismare @despuyuh @majestichugs @ayatosneakylink @vivyolite

[wileys-russo]

I'm not sure if you listened, if not you should it's so funny!

but could you do the reader on Jill's scotts coffee club podcast with georgia, leah and keira when leah whips out the cake? x

decided to make this a lowkey stanners x williamson!reader cause i love gee and she's underrated

colin the caterpillar II g.stanway

"-williamson i see you loitering about! get in here!" you looked up as you heard the ever familiar booming voice of one jill scott gesture you over. you caught georgia's eye as her and keira swiveled their heads, furiously waving you over to join them on the sofa, the set for jills podcast randomly plonked in the middle of the indoor training pitch.

"have you still got media duties babe?" your girlfriend asked, moving the microphone away from her mouth and you shook your head. "right in you come then!" keira moved over and patted the space in between her and georgia.

"is this live?" you asked as you took a seat, flashing a grin at jill and ben as you settled yourself on the sofa, your girlfriends spare arm coming to settle on your shoulders. "-and now we are joined by one of the worlds greatest strikers!" jill started, doing a drum roll on her knees.

"-but unfortunately alessia russo has been dodging my calls so we've had to settle for y/n williamson, round of applause please!" jill joked as you playfully rolled your eyes at the dig, showered in claps from the small crowd around you.

"you know you've never asked me on this show jilly, what happened to being your favourite williamson?" you tutted, one of the production assistants hurrying over to give you a mic.

"i had to keep that under wraps, had to suck up to the captain you know!" jill winked as you grinned, leaning a little more into georgia and crossing your legs. "jill might be the best suck up with the worst success rate we've ever met." keira announced as you and georgia hummed in agreement, ben egging you on to continue.

"she sucked up to sarina and the training team so much during the euros man. she'd be getting drinks, recounting plays, grabbing everyone gels-" you laughed at the memory. "-but then georgia could be on her death bed with cramp and jill would still stay on the bench." keira finished, jill agreeing as you all laughed along.

"oh no sorry interruption cause leah's just bought a colin the caterpillar!" keira gasped as she spotted your sister wandering close by with her birthday cake in hand. "go on birthday girl in you come!" you called out as she came closer, jill eagerly agreeing she sit down.

"cmere love." georgias hands found your waist, tugging you up to sit sideways on her lap as keira shuffled across and leah plonked herself down on the end, your legs half draped over keira as georgias hands wound themselves round your waist protectively and she softly kissed the back of your neck.

you were aware parts of the podcast were filmed but neither of you were bothered, it had hardly been the worlds best kept secret the two of you were seeing one another.

georgias instagram was almost like a shrine to you at this point. the two of you both playing for bayern, much to your north london blooded sisters disgust, you spent everyday together and only fell more and more in love as time passed.

"can we eat it?" georgia asked with a gasp as leah nodded, cracking open the box and gently sliding out the childhood favourite. "i think surely i win best sister for gettin her that?" you clapped for yourself, everyone joining in but leah who rolled her eyes.

"no cause you gave it to me after you smashed a cupcake in my literal eye at breakfast!" leah huffed, handing over the cake to keira after she took a large. "it was your forehead leah honestly! you win most dramatic." you countered, the blonde leaning over to smack your leg for the comment as you grinned.

"now now girls play nice play nice!" jill laughed, re-directing the conversation as keira snapped you off a section of cake which you accepted, happily smashing a large portion into your mouth before holding it over your shoulder for your girlfriend to do the same.

"ah i've never been so happy." georgia sighed contently as the two of you took turns munching away at the chocolate cake. "babe thats my finger!" you smacked her with a yelp as the girl got a little too eager and bit your finger among the cake.

"sorry love, no one's safe when there's a colin round." georgia kissed your cheek in apology, happily accepting more of the cake from keira as your sister offered you her piece, grinning as you snapped off the ears with your teeth just like you'd both been brought up to.

"well this is definitely a highlight of the season. four of englands finest just sat here eating a caterpillar like an apple." ben sighed jokingly as the four of you giggled to yourselves, you leaning back into georgia and clutching your stomach as keira took a large bite right from the middle without a care in the world.

"lee five second rule!" you pointed, voice muffled by the large mouthful of cake shoved in it as your sister scrambled to pick up the piece which fell on the floor, blowing on it and popping it into her mouth with a grin.

"now i know this is audio but for the listeners at home they are literally just picking this cake up and shoving it in their mouth!" jill recounted, shaking her head at the sight. "they're eating it like its a hotdog or something!" ben added on as georgia fed you one of the legs with a giggle.

"that foot was incredible." you mumbled out with a happy sigh, still chewing on it as keira smacked your leg in agreement, opening her mouth to show you she also had one in her mouth as your head fell onto georgias shoulder, again clutching your stomach in laughter.

"imagine if sarina see's this that would be so good. we're over here talking about elite performance-" "-elite performance and now we're just picking up a caterpillar without a care-" "-yeah thats it girls, just shove it in your mush!"

"i eat a kitkat before every game anyway." you shrugged, bending down and snapping off another foot from the half in keiras hands. "do you really?" ben asked in surprise.

"she does! she's done it since she was little, used to throw tantrums like you wouldn't believe when our mum tried to stop her." leah smirked at the memory. "i really did. i'd just find out where she hid them and steal one, i'm too fast to catch anyway once she realised." you grinned once you'd swallowed your mouthful of cake.

"i always leave one in her boots for her to find when she's getting ready now at bayern. you should have seen how much crap she copped her first game, no one could believe she was eating a kitkat before her debut." georgia laughed as you fondly patted her knee.

"i run faster when i've had chocolate!" you shrugged, shovelling another mouthful of cake in as everyone laughed. "i mean the proofs in the pudding there wasn't a euros match i didn't see you not have one and you scored about ten goals!" jill laughed.

"could probablys run a 10K marathon right now, light work!" you teased with cake mushed in your mouth and a cheeky grin, georgia kissing your cheek with a smile as you used your thumb to wipe away some loose chocolate from the corner of her mouth before licking it off your finger with a wink.

"right i'm off!" leah announced a short moment later, standing to her feet and brushing the crumbs off her knee's. "am i taking it?" she gestured to the few small pieces left, packing it up at her friends nods.

"well. he were bloody lovely weren't he!"

[deakyjoe]

Love To Hate

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Reader (fem, afab, she/her)

Category: enemies to lovers, smut, coworkers to lovers

Summary: You hate Dieter Bravo more than anything. So why are you asking him to sleep with you?

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), protected p in v sex, f receiving oral, brief vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, thigh riding/grinding, groping, kissing, body worship (he loves tits and ass), dirty talk, praise, size kink (??), Dieter has a horse cock, crying, Dieter’s a teasing dick, enemies to lovers, coworkers to lovers, insecurities, sex/masturbation problems (for reader), mentions of unsatisfactory sex, mentions of drug use, reader is shorter than Dieter, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 8.8k (woah!)

A/N: I have a series in mind for this so the story between these two could continue. But for now it works as a standalone. Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

There was no one in the world you disliked more than Dieter Bravo. It was a shame that he knew you better than anyone else ever had.

The two of you had had the unfortunate experience of always ending up in the same place. It had started during a chemistry read for a movie a few years back. Neither of you had ended up getting the job but it was undeniable that there was chemistry between you. Just not the kind of chemistry needed to play lovers on screen. Let's just say that you'd gotten off on the wrong foot and had never really recovered from it.

Next you'd both attended a charity event together, the both of you somehow being the star beneficiaries of the evening. The night included a lot of strained smiles, forced conversation and fake laughter.

Then there'd been the year long shoot you'd both winded up on for some up and coming director who'd begged for the both of you to appear in his movie, the promises of awards from every inch of the world for the both of you afterwards. And when award season came around, it turned out he was right. Awards did come flooding in. But for Dieter. Not you. It didn't help that you had to see the smug actor give the same speech at every ceremony as he graciously accepted the accolades.

And with that came the press junkets and the rounds of interviews, panels, and question and answer sessions. You pretty much saw Dieter Bravo every single day for almost two years. And the distaste for him never really went away. Sadly, this meant that he came to know the ins and outs of your life. Dieter could recite your schedule, list every single detail of your close friends and family's lives and could read your emotions like an open book. He knew you well. Too well. And he used this to his advantage.

And here you were again. On another movie with him. Somehow. You didn't know how it'd come to be as you'd made your agent swear never to put you in a project with him again. But shit happens.

After weeks of endless negotiations about budget, you'd finally arrived on set for rehearsals and table reads and the director had already warned that you were behind schedule. Shooting hadn't even started yet and you were already regretting it.

It didn't help when you'd been told that the hotel room that had been provided for you by the production company was right next to Dieter's. When you'd gotten there, you'd just stared at your shared wall for ten minutes and wondered how sound proof it was. You knew his reputation, had witnessed it even, and didn't fancy the sleepless nights if he was bringing someone new back to his room every night for the foreseeable future.

When you arrived for day one of table reads, you rushed around introducing yourself to everyone. You weren't the most sociable person ever, funny considering your career choice, and avoided one particular person whose gaze followed you around the room the whole time.

It was impossible not to feel his eyes on you. When Dieter's dark brown eyes latched onto a target, he wouldn't let go until he had his claws sunk in. In your case, it was different. He didn't view you as someone to sleep with but someone to torment with his presence instead.

You managed to successfully ignore him until your over enthusiastic director, Rodney, felt the need to introduce the two of you despite him knowing that the two of you already knew each other.

You looked up at Dieter, preparing yourself for the worst. His eyes looked clearer than usual, not as glazed over. You figured he'd been to rehab recently and was temporarily sober. That happened often. But never lasted long.

"Hi." You nodded up at him, brushing off the director's superficial nonsense that he'd spouted in attempt to make the two of you sudden best friends.

Dieter didn't return the greeting. "How're your parents?"

Small talk was meaningless between the two of you. Dieter knew everything about you. Everything. He'd met your parents on more than one occasion at different after parties, wrap parties, even on set once or twice. You hated to say that your mother loved him and your father liked him more than anyone else you'd ever introduced him to in this industry.

"Fine. Grandparents now." You replied, watching Rodney ease himself out of the conversation and wander off.

"Sister and her husband finally managed to conceive, huh?" He asked and you nodded in response despite the weird way he'd worded it. "You're an aunt. Cute."

"Yeah. How're you?" You sighed and looked over his shoulder, wondering how long it would take before the snappy responses started between the two of you.

He smirked. "Good."

"Good." You cleared your throat. "I hear that we're neighbours."

"Hm, lucky me."

Your eyes snapped back to his, not quite getting the tone in his voice. "Try to keep the noise down."

The smirk on his face was punchable. "I'll try my best."

You scoffed. "Yeah, okay."

Suddenly, you were swept away by other cast and crew members who were just dying to meet you. That was strange. You were used to people wanting to meet Dieter. But, as you found out from someone on the makeup team, you were the hot commodity on this set. A sense of pride filled your bones at the sound of that.

The days flew by. Table reads were completed, along with a few spontaneous rehearsals. You avoided Dieter at all costs, trying not to interact with him if you weren't reciting words from a script. And it was going pretty well. Except for the nights.

The walls were apparently extremely thin in the hotel you were staying in, just as you’d feared. You knew this how exactly? By the very clear sex sounds that would practically shake the wall you shared with Dieter. Moans, groans, a squeaking bed, a rattling headboard, the occasional scream even. It was torture. And you could do nothing apart from bury your head under a pillow. Unless you developed the confidence to go knocking on his door to tell him to cut it out. Which you didn't.

It didn't escape your notice that he was clearly accompanied by a new person every night, the tones of their noises changing each time. It also didn't escape you that Dieter was clearly very good in bed. If the sounds of his partners were any indication at least. They all seemed very enthusiastic to be in his company.

You grew used to it after a few days. Mainly because you had to. There was no point losing sleep over something you already knew about Dieter. He liked sex. A lot. And he had a reputation for a reason. It just pissed you off that you had to hear it. And that it seemed to come so easily to him...

It was devastating news to you when the director told you that the first day of shooting was going to be one of the sex scenes of the movie. You'd initially attempted to persuade him to move it later into the production but he had insisted that there was no need for that. The years of you and Dieter knowing, and hating, each other had been enough to build the chemistry needed for the movie. All the sexual tension was apparently already there. You’d disagreed with that last point.

When the day finally came, you were tense. More tense than usual anyway. The only thing reassuring you was the meeting you'd had with the intimacy coordinator who had told you that every detail you'd told her, everything that you didn't want to happen, would be implimented to make you as comfortable as possible.

You'd been placed in a bed, naked from the waist up and you had been there alone for longer than you should've been. After so many years you shouldn't be surprised that Dieter was late. It was sort of his specialty. The fact that this was the first day of shooting was mildly annoying however.

When he finally appeared in nothing but his underwear and a robe, the latter of which he shed as soon as he saw you waiting for him in the bed, he sent half hearted apologies to everyone in the room. When he got to you the apology was a lot more sarcastic. "And I am eternally sorry for keeping you waiting, sweetheart."

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes and let your head fall back against the pillow, teeth clenching at the sound of the pet name he’d gifted you all those years ago when you’d first met.

Dieter grinned at the reaction and crawled on top of you after both the director and the intimacy coordinator had instructed him of the positioning they wanted. His legs were between yours, an elbow on either side of your head to keep him slightly elevated so he wasn't leaning all of his body weight on you.

You avoided his eyes, having him hovering over you like this with your tits out was embarrassing. Especially when his own bare chest was so close to rubbing against yours.

Dieter lowered his head so his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. "Don't look so tense. It's okay. You're gorgeous and I won't look if you don't want me to."

That surprised you. What surprised you even more is that he looked genuine when he pulled back to meet your eyes again.

You shook your head. "It's fine."

The director suddenly cursed loudly. "Dieter, relax! We're having some issues with the mics so just do whatever for a minute."

"Sure thing, boss!" Dieter called back, sitting up and pulling the blankets up to cover you in the process. "So you don't get cold."

You sat up and clutched the blanket over your chest. "Thanks."

It was freaking you out with how nice he was being. Dieter Bravo was anything but a gentleman. Yet here he was... being almost chivalrous.

And then he winked at you. "Nice rack by the way."

Yeah, okay, you expected him to ruin it.

"Charming, Bravo. Really." You snapped.

"Just stating facts." He shrugged.

You frowned at him and looked away.

"Hey." His voice was soft.

You looked back at him.

"Sorry, it was a joke." His brown eyes were wide and apologetic.

You ran your tongue over your teeth, aggravation rippling through you. "It's fine."

He shook his head, curls bouncing against his forehead. "No, it's not. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Your frown deepened. "Isn't it your life's mission to irritate me?"

He grinned. "Irritate you? Yes. Make you uncomfortable at work? No."

Before you had the chance to reply, the microphones were fixed and the two of you were instructed to get back into places. You both settled back into position, a sigh escaping you. It was difficult to believe that this was the first thing you were filming. Not even the conversation leading up to this particular section of the scene. You questioned the director's choices.

"Right, so we know what we're doing, yeah?" Rodney called to you both.

You nodded but Dieter raised his hand like he had a question.

"I can't remember. Are we touching tits or not?"

The intimacy coordinator looked towards you for a moment for confirmation before nodding. "Yes. Touching breasts is fine, Dieter."

He hummed in acknowledgment before looking back at you as he flexed his fingers and rolled his wrists. "Gotta get the circulation going so my hands aren't too cold. Don't want your nipples freezing off."

You stared back up at him in slight shock. "That would be unfortunate, yes."

He smiled and pressed the backs of his fingers to your cheek. "That temperature okay?"

"Not nipple freezing cold."

Just maybe nipple hardening cold.

You pushed the thought from your head and gave him a nod to assure him that it was fine. "Let's just get this started."

He laughed at your clear disdain of the situation and looked towards the small group of crew members to give them the go ahead.

It went pretty smoothly. All the technology continued to work for the rest of the scene luckily and neither you nor Dieter messed up too much to call for reshoots. You simply just gave each other a lot of open mouthed, but tongueless, kisses with no emotion behind them whatsoever and made noises of satsifaction in all the right places as he groped at you gently but confidently. It was a surprisingly simple day of shooting. The director had decided that this would be all you did for the first day, wanting a few good angles that would take up a lot of time, and didn't want to push you into doing more than necessary.

When lunch rolled around, you grabbed a salad from the catering tent outside and took a seat on a table by yourself. You wanted a few moments of peace to relax before you got back into the swing of shooting. The peace was short lived as your least favourite person took a seat directly opposite you, a sandwich on his plate.

You stared at him with scorn. "I wasn't aware we did lunch together."

Dieter looked back at you amused. "Well, considering that I've felt you up now, I thought it was only fitting to grace you with my presence over a lovely meal." His eyes lowered to your salad. "Why the fuck did you get that?"

You poked at the sad plate in front of you with your fork. "It was the only thing that looked remotely fresh."

He looked at his own food. "I do have to say that my sandwich looks a few days old."

"Days?" You gasped. "Try decades!"

Dieter scoffed. "Well, some of us can't afford to eat a salad. Some of us are trying to maintain our physiques."

He was referencing the so-called dad bod he'd developed over the last few years. People loved it. His cheeks were fuller than they used to be, somehow making his dimples more pronounced when he smiled, and his stomach was now softer. It was hot. That was for sure. You held your own quiet appreciation for the way he looked. But that wasn't something you would ever voice to him. Not in a million years.

"Maybe some carbs would make you loosen up." He added on, frowning down at his sandwich now that you'd both acknowledged how it most definitely hadn't been made that day. "Get that stick out your ass."

Something in you snapped at that. You did not have a stick up your ass. You did not need to loosen up. So you did the thing you'd told yourself you wouldn't. You decided to confront him.

You played it cool at first. "How long have we known each other?"

He looked back up at you, eyes squinted in confusion. "A long time. Too long even. Why?"

"Would it be acceptable for me to ask you for a small favour?" You stirred your salad with the fork, not easily done, in an attempt to seem nonchalant.

That caught his attention, giving you his full focus as his head tilted to the side slightly. "That depends on what this small favour is."

"When you have... fun time with your... friends could you play some music? Or better yet, go back to their place? Walls are thin." You hated the words that came out of your mouth. Why didn't you just say sex? Too late now.

His eyebrows quirked at your strange terminology. "When I what?"

"You know." You waved your hand, determined to stick with it now.

"Have sex? Fuck? Bang? Screw?" He asked and you nodded. "Come on, we're both adults. You can say sex to my face. Especially since you've heard it apparently."

Your brows pushed together unhappily. "Fine. When you have sex."

"Only if you promise to play music when you fail to get yourself off when you masturbate." He finally took a bite of his sandwich and immediately grimaced.

Your heart dropped down to your stomach. "What?"

He smirked, knowing he had you. "Walls are thin. You're loud. And frustrated."

"You hear me?" You knew the walls were thin. You didn't know that they were that thin. You always tried to stay as quiet as possible.

Dieter prodded at his sandwich with his finger a final time before pushing it away. "It'd be pretty hard not to. Maybe I should introduce you to one of my friends. To help you, I mean."

"Wouldn't work." You mumbled, not really for him to hear.

His interest was piqued further. "Oh, so a full orgasm mental block then?"

You clenched your teeth together. "I hate you."

"Unfortunate considering I'm the only person capable of reading you like an open book." He grinned at you, fully sarcastic. "Hmm, maybe that's what you need actually."

"What?"

"Someone capable of reading you like a book. To see what's really working, or not working, for you." He looked you up and down quickly.

You scoffed. "You better not be suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

His voice dipped down in both volume and tone. "You know I'd be better than anyone else you've ever had. You've heard my work. I'm exceptional and come highly recommended."

You looked away from him. "That's not funny, Dieter."

"You're sexually frustrated?"

You huffed. "Yes. Very."

"And I'm good at sex and know you better than anyone. Is it not a reasonable conclusion?" He threw his hands in the air as if to emphasise how obvious the solution should be.

"You're ridiculous." You hissed, pushing up from the table and storming away. You hated him. Despised him.

"The orgasms would make you feel better." He called after you.

You didn't fail to notice the use of the plural - orgasms.

Luckily for you the rest of the day consisted of close ups of just you sprawled on the bed. No Dieter needed. But you didn't fail to notice how he hovered around the set anyway and observed. His brown eyes burned into your skin for the remainder of filming.

When you were done, you retreated to your dressing room and got dressed as quickly as you could. A car was called at your request and you were back in your hotel room ordering room service before anyone even had the opportunity to invite you out for drinks to celebrate the first day of filming.

You needed to be alone. For many reasons, including the fact that you just liked your solitude. But the biggest one, the reason that had been plaguing your mind since it had been suggested to you, was the idea of sleeping with Dieter. Not being able to believe yourself at how utterly ridiculous it was, but you were seriously considering it.

You knew he was good in bed. The sex noises you'd heard through the wall didn't lie. But he was the one person in the world that you disliked more than anyone else you had ever met. So why was the idea of it playing around in your head so much?

When you heard Dieter's own hotel room door close, you were surprised that he seemed to be alone. Abnormal. For him at least. But you ignored it.

And you ignored the ache between your legs that was bothering you as you showered and changed into your pyjamas. You ignored the way your heart hammered in your chest as you crawled under the bedsheets. You ignored the fact that you were still wide awake after two hours of attemtping to fall asleep.

Well... you ignored it for another thirty minutes before you sighed to yourself and got out of bed, grabbed your room key and tiptoed to your co-star's room. You knocked once quietly and received no answer. So you knocked again, louder and more impatient this time. After a few seconds his door swung open with the quietest of creaks but loud enough to still make you wince. You weren't doing anything wrong technically but the idea of anyone finding out about this made your stomach churn.

Dieter stood there, rumpled from bed, and looked down at you confused. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he mumbled a gravelly question. "Why're you here?"

You hesitated which caught his attention, suddenly sobering up from fatigue and looking more concerned.

"You okay?”

Your jaw ticked with nerves. Fuck it, what did you have to lose? "Your offer."

"My offer?" He looked more confused than before, obviously not recalling your previous conversation.

You sighed, frustratedly. "Yes. About sleeping with you."

He blinked rapidly a couple of times. "I was only teasing. I'm sorry if I offended you-"

You interrupted him before he could go any further and ruin what confidence you'd managed to build up. "No, I'm here to take you up on it."

Dieter said nothing which was not a good sign. He loved to talk, especially to annoy you. Silence meant something bad.

"You were right. I'm sexually frustrated and can't get off. By myself or with anyone." You whispered harshly. "I think you're attractive and you're my best hope at finding out whether I'm just broken or something else is going on."

He looked down at you with softened eyes. Pity. You didn't want his pity. "I don't-"

You cut him off again. "Please."

He paused and then nodded, opening the door wider. "Okay."

You pushed past him. "No one ever finds out about this and we never talk about it again. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." He closed and locked the door behind the two of you. "For the record, I was going to say that I don't think you're broken."

"We'll determine that after you, hopefully, manage to make me come." You planted your hands on your hips.

His eyes raked over you. "You're too stressed. You're not used to casual, are you?"

"No, I can do casual with people I don't know and who definitely don't know me. And you know me too well, Dieter. So, yeah, I'm stressed. Because this-" You gestured between the two of you. "-isn't casual."

"Relax. I'm sure I'll be able to figure out what makes you tick." He smirked, sauntering closer. "I already know what you don't like."

You flinched at that statement. "How?"

"Had a very long conversation with the intimacy coordinator about what was off-limits. Apparently you had a list." A real smile broke across his face as he reached up to pull your hands from your hips, plucking your room key from your fingers and tossing it onto the vanity, before tracing his own fingers across your arms.

Heat prickled the surface of your skin. "Oh."

"Don't look so embarrassed." His hands got to your shoulders and rested there, forcing them down to relax. "Although, you could've told me yourself."

"And have you tease me? No thanks." You scoffed, looking away from him.

He hummed lowly in the back of his throat. "I like to tease you, yes. But I never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Not like that anyway and especially not at work. I told you this."

Your gaze darted back to him, to see if he was being genuine. He was.

Your eyebrows pulled up in uncertainty. "You confuse me."

"I know." His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. "You confuse me too."

"How?"

His hands slid up to your neck, warm palms engulfing you. "Coming to me begging to have sex despite claiming to loathe me."

You briefly snapped out of the atmosphere he'd created with his touch and pulled back from him. "I'm not begging."

"I was joking, sweetheart. I'm sorry. You don't have to beg me for this anyway." He tugged you closer to him again.

"What do you mean?" You moved more into his hold.

He chuckled, one hand lowering to circle around your waist and dipping his head to trace the lines of your neck with the tip of his nose. "Nothing. I'm just talking to calm you and make you more pliant."

Your eyelids fluttered shut. "Touch my tits with your icicle hands again and I'm sure we'll get there eventually."

He laughed louder at that, one hand cupping your cheek as he pulled back to look at you. "Are they really that cold?"

"They were earlier. Now they're warmer." You pressed your cheek into his palm, eyes closing at the feeling.

"Leaning on them for too long fucks up my blood flow." He explained, swiping his thumb across your skin. "You're so pretty."

Your eyes shot open to meet his at that. You'd never seen him look so sincere. You'd also never felt the desire to kiss him before. Until now. "Please kiss me." You curled your fists into the front of his shirt and pulled him down to meet your eyeline.

His forehead pushed against yours. "You sure you want this?"

"Positive."

He took that and pressed his lips against yours, soft and tender, barely there. And pulled back again to gauge your reaction.

"More." You whispered, hands sliding up to thread into the hair on the back of his head.

He hummed lowly, a flicker of a smile on his face before he kissed you again. This time it was firmer and held more purpose. You'd never noticed before but Dieter smelt nice. It was comforting as he drew you into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you. The kisses grew more heated, moving from a few pecks to being open mouthed and longer. He was a good kisser, you begrudgingly noted. Good for now but the part of you that hated him disliked that he was also gifted at this. When his tongue slid into your mouth and pressed up against yours, you tensed up. It wasn't unpleasant. Just a bit of a shock to the system.

Dieter pulled back to look down at you. "Relax. I'll look after you, I promise. Believe me?"

"Yes." You whispered and pulled him back towards you. No one had ever kissed you like this. Dieter understood you. He felt the way your muscles would shift when he did something you didn't like and would immediately pull back, quickly assess the situation and find something else you preferred. His hands lingered in places that made you feel good, kissed you enough so you felt wanted but not too much to overwhelm you. You'd never felt so safe with someone before.

And you never could have imagined the feeling that was swirling around inside you at the notion that he was touching you, kissing you. This was Dieter Bravo. The man you'd hated for years. And yet here he was, making you feel things you'd never felt before this moment. Sure, you'd acknowledged the fact that he was an attractive man when you'd first met him. But the idea of being attracted to him had never crossed your mind until recently. Very recently. It just didn't seem possible.

His hands slid down to your ass, palming the flesh there as he groaned into your mouth at the feeling. It was nice to know that he was enjoying this as well. He crowded you against him, seeming to take an impossible step closer to you.

He broke away from you momentarily. "Trust me?"

"Yes." You nodded slowly, dazed by the fact that it was true. You did trust him. With this at least anyway.

He smiled against your lips at that. "Do you want control or do you want me to take care of you?"

You pondered it for a moment. You didn't even know where you'd start with this. With him. It was an overwhelming thought. Which is why your answer was so natural.

"Take care of me please."

His responding smile was easy, soothing, as he directed you backwards towards the bed until your legs hit the frame.

"We're going to take this slow, okay? So try to have some patience." He cupped your face in his large hands, looking at you seriously.

You huffed. "I can be patient. As long as it's worth my time."

He laughed and kissed you quickly. "I'll make this worth your time."

You giggled against his mouth. "You're very confident in your abilities."

"As are you considering you're here asking me to make you come." He moved to place an open mouthed kiss on your jaw, teeth scraping against your skin. "Get on the bed."

It took a lot of self restraint for Dieter to stop himself from just picking you up and throwing you on the bed. But he promised himself he'd be gentle with you, giving you some power over the situation. After all, you'd asked him to take care of you. So that's exactly what he was going to do.

He didn't need to ask you twice by the seems of it anyway since you dropped onto the bed at his request, bouncing a couple of times before pulling your legs up and sliding yourself backwards towards the pillows. Dieter smothered a gleeful grin at how suddenly eager you seemed to be. Your enthusiam should only help your orgasm problem, as long as he got you to ease up a lot more. You were such a tense person. He tasked himself with rectifying that.

Climbing onto the bed and sitting up on his knees, Dieter looked at you breathing heavily, chest heaving as you waited for him to get closer. He couldn't quite tell if you were anxious or just turned on. He fell forward onto his hands and crawled to you, pushing you onto your back as he moved over you.

Gaze moving towards the way your breasts were straining against your sleep shirt with every inhale, he let a question roll around in his head for a couple of seconds before just deciding to ask it. "On a scale of one to ten, how horny would you say you are right now?"

Your mouth dropped open, that was the last thing you expected him to say with the way his pupils had blown wide as he stared at your chest. "A six. Maybe a seven."

He only grunted in response.

"It might be higher. I can't tell. I'm pretty nervous."

Ah, so anxiety was playing a factor in your breathing rate. Good to know, Dieter thought.

"Let's fix that." He rasped before kissing you again, not hesitating this time to let his tongue roam your mouth. He found he liked the way your legs seemed to automatically wrap around him and pull him closer over you so you were chest to chest.

Your arms wound around his neck, one hand carding through his hair. The two of you barely broke away for breath, the only sound in the room being those of your lips colliding and separating. You were surprised to find how long he kissed you without doing anything else. Most guys would be insisting on getting into your pants right about now. But Dieter hadn't done anything more than grope at your ass, and that had been when you were still standing up.

You liked kissing. Liked it a lot. Especially when the person you were kissing was good at it and seemed to enjoy it as much as you did. So this was nice. Just kissing. You hadn't kissed someone for this long since you were a teenager and still a virgin when making out seemed like the most exciting thing in the world.

You let your hands roam Dieter a little more, allowing them to drift down his back and smooth back up across his shoulders. He was so broad, you realised. How had you never realised how big he was before? He was taller than you, sure. But you had never noticed the sheer size of him before. He was broad shouldered and had large hands. It sent a pulse to your core.

He made you squeal in surprise when he managed to wrap his arms around and underneath you and flipped the two of you so you were on your sides, legs tangled together and not an inch of space between you. Despite the lack of room, you still found yourself pushing into him even more. He encouraged this by gliding a hand to the small of your back and pressing you against him. He groaned into your mouth when your pelvis moved against his, rubbing against his hard on.

Instead of pursuing that like you assumed he would, he grabbed your thigh and hooked your leg over his waist so your clothed pussy pushed against the muscle of his thigh. He could feel the heat of you through two layers of clothing, both your sleep shorts and his own pants. Then his hand slipped over to your ass where he squeezed, causing a gasp to rattle out of you into his mouth, and rocked your hips against his thigh. You felt your clit grinding against him and whined at the feeling it made ripple through you.

"Mm, good girl." He whispered against your lips and rocked you against him again.

It felt good. Better than you expected it to. So you picked up the pace yourself, letting his hand guide you as you ground yourself against his thigh desperately. The sensation was slowly building, very slowly, but it was definitely there. You didn't have the brain capacity to think about the potential orgasm sneaking up on you though as Dieter kept kissing you, despite it becoming messier as you couldn't hold back the noises he was drawing out of you. It became a simple clash of lips and tongues, teeth clacking together every few seconds, as you sought out the feeling you craved.

But it became obvious after a little while longer that it was hopeless.

You pulled back from him frustrated and let out a sound of disappointment as you pressed your forehead into his chest. "It's no use- I can't-"

"Hey, hey, hey." He cut you off, placing a finger under your chin to make you look up at him. "Don't give up now. It was close, I know it. We'll just rework and go with a different angle, okay?"

A part of you wanted to run away and forget this whole thing, hoping he wouldn't hold this against you in the future. You couldn't imagine the teasing material Dieter would come up with if he knew the fact that you couldn't come and had run away after failing to get off with him.

But the way he was looking at you, so warm and kind, had you rethinking that. This was so unlike him. So you just nodded at him.

He returned the nod, a smile on his face. "Okay. So, that felt good, didn't it?" He didn't need you to agree. The sounds you were making told him enough. "So we'll slow down and keep going from there."

You didn't exactly know what he meant by that but decided to just carry on following his lead anyway. Delighted when he kissed you again, you whimpered against his mouth as his hand returned to your ass and rocked your hips over his thigh again. But this time more gently. He kept doing that for a while, never letting the speed of it increase. And the sensation from before built steadily. You stayed calm and didn't let it overtake you, allowing Dieter to have control over the situation.

He let the sounds coming from your throat tell him when to move on to the next step. Slowly he rolled the two of you over so you were on your back again, breaking away from your mouth to start kissing down the length of your body.

You raised your head to look at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going down on you." He said casually, finger tracing along the buttons of your shirt. "Can I take this off?"

You nodded, watching as he unfastened each button unhurriedly and sat up to help him slide it from your shoulders. "You don't have to do that. I know a lot of guys don't like that."

His head snapped up to meet your eyes, looking as if you'd just shot him. "Who the fuck have you been sleeping with?" He asked with disgust, hands landing on your chest and immediately kneading the flesh of your tits.

Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, head dropping back onto the pillows. "Guys not worth my time apparently."

"You're right about that." Dieter mumbled, flicking his tongue over one of your nipples. "I happen to love eating pussy."

"Noted." You sighed, toes curling as he sucked the nipple into his mouth.

After spending a considerable amount of time worshipping your chest, including lots of babbling about how fucking soft you were, Dieter finally decided to carry on with his journey downwards. He tugged at the string of your sleep shorts, ribbon unravelling and leaving the waistband loose.

He glanced up at you with the silent question of asking permission to take the shorts off which you nodded at. He smirked and slid them down your legs with the aid of you arching yourself up to help him, pleased when he saw you weren’t wearing panties. The smirk grew into a smile that could only compared to that of the Cheshire Cat when he saw how wet you were.

"All this from just rubbing yourself against my thigh. Lucky me."

"Don't make fun of me." You grumbled, glaring at him.

He tutted, pushing your thighs apart to get a better look. "I'm not, sweetheart, I promise. I can't wait to taste you."

You had no time to reply as he rubbed a thumb across you, spreading your arousal across your slit and up to your clit where he circled a couple of times. Flattening himself onto his stomach so his face was level with your pussy, Dieter placed a tentative lick on your clit. When a broken cry escaped you, he took it as a sign to keep going. Licking a long stripe up, gathering your wetness on his tongue, Dieter let out a moan of his own. You tasted better than he anticipated. It was going to take a lot for him to not bury his face against you and suffocate himself.

Instead he chose to lick against your clit a couple more times, liking the way your back arched up off the bed at the feeling. Slowly, he sucked the bundle of nerves into his mouth and revelled at the strangled whimper that left you, a hand flying into his hair to pull him closer. Dieter groaned as you tugged on the brown strands. Focusing on your clit for a while, he chose to test something else. He slid a finger into you, feeling your thighs tense on either side of his head. And not in a good way. So he removed the finger and chose to continue just suckling on your clit instead.

You weren't quite there yet and that was okay. He was fine with using just his mouth and tongue for the moment. You started writhing under him anyway, which was a good sign in his mind, so he flattened a hand over your stomach to keep you still.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You gasped, pulling on his hair even harder. You were close, moving to the brink with every move Dieter made, and you both knew it.

Dieter just wondered what would get you there. He could see out of the corner of his eye that the hand that wasn't in his hair was grasping at the sheets beneath you. So he reached out to take it in his. And so with one of his hands on your stomach to keep you still and one of yours looped through his hair, the free hands that each of you had finding each other and linking, fingers lacing together, that was all it took to have you crashing over the edge.

Your thighs trembled on either side of his head as you practically screamed his name, hand pushing his face into you as your hips moved against him of their own accord. The orgasm pulsed through you, seeming almost never ending, as Dieter crawled back up the length of your body and placed kisses all over your face.

When you finally returned back down to Earth, you opened your eyes and blinked up at him. You couldn’t believe he’d managed it. "You are fucking good at this."

He shook his head and chuckled. "That was the easy part. What's next is the real test."

"Easy- next- what?" You were beyond confused. He'd made you come. His task was complete. What was he talking about?

"The majority of women get off easier with oral. Penetrative sex isn't as likely to make a woman come." He explained, sitting up and reaching off the side of the bed to open a drawer in his nightstand and retrieve a condom. "These are cherry flavoured, is that okay? Or do you have an allergy to flavoured lube? Shit, or a latex allergy?"

You swallowed thickly. "You're going to fuck me? Like actually fuck me?"

"Look at you managing to say fuck. Big turn around from fun time or whatever shit you said to me this afternoon." He shook his head as he chuckled. "But yes, sweetheart. I am going to fuck you. Unless you don't want me to. And in that case I'll have to politely ask you to excuse me so I can go jerk off in the bathroom. But I think it'll be nice. Another orgasm never hurts."

The two of you held eye contact for a moment as he waited for you to respond. The idea of another orgasm had you wanting more.

"No allergies to flavoured lube or latex here." You said, reaching out to grab at his t-shirt to pull him over you again.

"I'm so glad to hear that because this is all I've got." He breathed against your mouth before kissing you.

Your hands slid to the hem of his t-shirt, sliding it up slowly and over his head when he broke away from you momentarily to take it off. Your hands immediately landed on his chest, nails raking down his torso onto his stomach and then your fingers hooked into his waistband. Dieter gave you the go ahead to tug the pants down with a low hum and kicked them off his feet without pulling away from your mouth for a second.

You didn't need to look to know that Dieter was big considering all of him was suddenly pressed up against you. You found it fascinating to know that the rumours of him being hung like a horse were, in fact, very true.

You broke away from the kiss when you felt the full length of him hot and heavy against your stomach. "Fuck me, you're huge."

Dieter looked down between your bodies. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. "Thanks."

You met his eyes again. "I somehow hate you even more now."

He just burst out into laughter. Now that was new.

"It's not fair that you're good at eating pussy and also have a horse cock. A guy should only have one of those assets. Having both is like having too much power." You groaned, reaching down to take him in your hand.

His laughter abruptly cut off at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around him, head dropping down to meet your shoulder. "Fuck, think it's time to be inside you now."

"That'd be good." You mumbled, watching him as he pushed up onto his knees and ripped the condom open, rolled it down onto his himself with ease and pumped his dick a couple times. The last part was unnecessary considering he was rock hard and not softening anytime soon without coming.

Dieter grabbed the tops of your thighs and used them as leverage to pull you towards him so the two of you aligned. Taking his length in his fist, he slapped the tip against your clit a few times before sliding it up and down your slit, combining the cherry lube with the wetness left behind by your previous orgasm. Notching himself at your entrance, he made eye contact with you for one last bit of confirmation. When he found it, he pushed into you.

He slid in easier than expected, the two of you sighing deeply at the feeling as he leaned over you again. He pulled out slowly after a moment, the clench of your walls making him shudder, and then thrust back in again.

"Does that feel good?" He asked you, needing to check in.

Your legs wrapped around him, forcing him in even deeper somehow. "Fuck yes."

"I'm glad. Because this is heavenly for me." He told you, taking your pleasured expression as an invitation to set up a steady pace. Nothing too fast otherwise he'd be finishing this earlier than he wanted to, but enough to make the both of you feel good.

But you were impatient. "Dieter, faster."

"Sweetheart, if I go any faster then I'm going to blow my load prematurely and I really don't want that. And I’m sure you don’t either."

"I thought you were a veteran at this. Should be able to last longer than two minutes." You quipped back.

He huffed out a laugh. "I was close to jizzing in my pants when we were making out so trust me when I say this is overwhelmingly good for me right now. Besides, gotta make you orgasm again first."

With that statement, he slid a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight circles onto your clit, completely out of pace with the way he was moving in and out of you. The discrepancy between the two sensations had your brain going haywire and you clutched at his face to get him to kiss you again. He groaned into your mouth when you clenched around him again, finally moving a little faster.

As much as Dieter wanted to go slow with you, he could feel how much you craved more. So he picked up the pace and went a little harder, pausing momentarily when the headboard hit the wall and you let out a delighted noise at the sound.

"Oh, you like that?" He asked, mouth dropping open when you nodded rapidly. "Yeah?"

"Yes, Dieter. Oh, my god, yes." You gasped, nails clawing at his shoulders with the need to hold onto something.

"Dirty fucking girl, liking the headboard slamming against the wall." He realised something. "You could hear it when I was in here with other people, couldn't you?"

You could do nothing but confess. "Yes, oh my- fuck!" You were cut off by your own expletive as he rammed back into you, hitting a spot that no one else had even come close to reaching before.

"Wanted to get it as good, huh?" He asked, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs as the pace of his thumb increased on your clit. "Promised I'd make it good for you, didn't I?"

You nodded, words escaping you as tears streamed from your eyes.

"Come on, sweetheart. I can feel it. You're going to come for me again, aren't you?" He watched as you attempted to answer him, only managing a few babbled words of agreement. "What do you need? What's going to make you come all over my cock?"

You still couldn't form a coherent sentence as his harsh thrusts had you moving up and down the bed, your tits bouncing in rhythm. So you placed a hand on either of his cheeks and pulled him into a messy kiss, your tongue curling against his. That was what it took to make you orgasm again, a wail leaving your throat and tumbling into Dieter's mouth as your thighs trembled and your walls fluttered around him. The feeling of that sent him over the edge too, a couple more pumps before he was spilling himself into the condom.

Neither of you broke away from the kiss for a moment as you calmed down, sweat pooling between you as he slowly pulled out and the kisses turned sweeter and more innocent. Dieter eventually climbed off of the bed and threw the condom in the trash before crawling back to you.

"What are you doing?" You asked as he settled over you again.

"More making out for a minute." He replied simply, placing his lips over yours.

It lasted longer than a minute, that was for sure. But neither of you were complaining. By the time he decided to pull away again, your legs had stopped shaking with the aftershocks of the orgasm and your breathing had slowed to a normal rate.

Dieter looked down at you pleased with what he'd managed to achieve as a question crossed his mind. "I'm curious... when was the last time you orgasmed?"

You shrugged as the two of you sat up in the bed. "I can't remember."

"Okay, when was the last time you made yourself come? Give me an estimate." He waved his hand around in the air.

You thought about it. "A few months maybe."

He frowned, that was too long in his opinion. "And when was the last time a guy made you come?"

You hesitated before shaking your head.

The frown deepened. "What does that mean?"

You took a deep breath before answering. "Never."

His eyes darkened, lids becoming hooded. "Never?"

"No."

"I'm the first?" He didn't seem to believe you.

But you were insistent. "Yeah."

"Okay, lie back down." He said, poking at your chest to get you to rest against the pillows.

You let out a confused laugh. "What? Why?"

"Because I'm getting another fucking orgasm out of you."

You shook your head, attempting to stay sitting up. "You don't need to. You've done enough."

"Two. You've been given two orgasms by men. Both of which are from me. I need at least a third before I let you leave this room." He stretched his arms out and started moving down the bed. "Besides, you taste good and I already want to go down on you again."

"Dieter, you don't have to do that for me- oh."

He looked smug as he brushed your clit with his thumb, effectively cutting you off.

"Okay, maybe one more won't hurt." You relented, collapsing onto the pillows.

"Excellent." He chirped in response, literally diving in head first into your cunt again with a long lick up your slit. He groaned lowly, looking up at you as he pulled away. "We're gonna have to do this again sometime."

You froze. "What? Why?"

"Because I said I wanted to taste you again but all I'm getting right now is the cherry lube from the condom." He sounded disappointed.

"Sounds delicious, actually." You hummed, pushing yourself up on your elbows so you could see him better.

"Not as delicious as you, fuck." Despite the obvious discontentment, Dieter still went back to licking at you like there was no tomorrow. And it didn't take long for another orgasm to hit you, his skilled tongue combined with the leftover influence of the previous two.

When he made his way up the bed and landed next to you with his eyes closed, you took it as your cue to leave. So you slid out of the bed and started searching for your pyjamas.

"Where are you going?"

You stilled and stiffly turned to look at Dieter. Wasn't it obvious? "Back to my room."

His brow wrinkled "You don't have to go."

You straightened up, suddenly very aware of your nakedness. "I'm not spending the night."

He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't suggesting that, I figured as much. I do, however, strongly believe in this little thing called aftercare.”

"Oh." You hadn't considered that.

"Interested?"

Yes. "Maybe."

He rolled his eyes again, smile still firmly planted on his face, and opened his arms for you. "Get back over here."

You did as he said, easily finding yourself in his embrace as he stroked patterns up and down your back. Some time later he went to get a washcloth from the bathroom to clean away the mess that the cherry lube had made between your thighs, before slipping back into bed next to you.

Despite both of you insisting that you'd go back to your room any minute, you didn't move out of his arms. And eventually the two of you fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

A/N: I chose to write this rather than one of my final essays of the uni year… you’re welcome.

[itsbeeble]

Gorgeous

SUMMARY: Minghao was the black sheep, though you'd never understood why. Maybe it's time you figure it out.

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst (MAJOR ANGST)

PAIRING: Xu Minghao x afab!reader

WC: 5.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: this is actually really dark, infidelity, rich people core, p in v sex, exhibitionism (yn gets fingered in the back of her car while on the phone), minghao is possessive, stalker themes, criminal, mentions of blood, reader gets injured, a lot goes on actually i've never written something like this el oh el

A/N: this was NOT supposed to end up like it did, but I decided on a whim to do this. Thank you to @sungbeam and @mosviqu for beta reading this (even if some of it was very last minute). I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I did teehee

“Who is that?” You tilt your head, eyes trained in the direction of someone you’d never seen before at these functions. Your friend, Jang Gyuri, follows your eyes and kisses her teeth. 

“Xu Minghao,” she brings her lips close to your ear so only you can hear her. No need for prying eyes and ears to hear what she has to say and spread unwanted rumors. “I’d stay away from him if I were you.”

“Why?” 

Many people would have described you as innocent. You came from “new money” as they would call it. Your father practically struck gold when he decided in his early thirties to start a business. The company grew quickly, the products being released becoming popular all over South Korea and, eventually, internationally. You knew that you should pay more attention to his work, as you’d likely inherit it one day, but you can’t find it in you to care. With this recent rise to power, you’d been taking advantage of your seemingly neverending access to parties of all kinds. Galas, clubs, birthday parties for the spoiled brats that had been born into this life. You were a free spirit, never one to avoid cameras, and that made you dangerous in the eyes of many in this country. Gyuri told you that, though old money was never afraid of new money, new money had the power of intimidation.

She’d told you many names as examples: Wen Junhui, Choi Yeonjun, Lee Chan, Han Jisung, Bae Joohyun, Kang Seulgi, Chwe Hansol. Though their families weren’t necessarily liked, they held status among the wealthy children for varying reasons— proving their worth being the main reason, intimidation being another. 

Xu Minghao, however, was never a name you had heard in these recent months. Maybe there was a reason for that, you note when your eyes meet his lidded ones and he flashes you a lazy smirk. Your cheeks heat up, and you turn your gaze back to Gyuri. She’s giving you a dirty look, her painted red lips pursed and her eyebrows knit together. 

“He’s bad news, Y/N,” she warns. “Seungcheol will tell you about it, and he’d want you to be careful around him.”

“Seungcheol,” your voice is laced with venom, “is in the bathroom with Seo Yookyung. I don’t think he cares what I do, so long as I don’t ruin his reputation.”

“That’s not exactly what I would call a healthy relationship.” 

Both you and Gyuri flinch, startled by the interruption, and turn to scold whoever jumped into a private conversation. 

You fall short, however, your mouth partially hanging open with shock and, honestly, awe. 

From afar, you could tell that he was attractive but now that he’s up close? You feel like you could sink and drown in him. Long dark hair, thin and pointed face, scrutinizing eyes. He was intimidating to most, this you could tell. But to you?

He was the most gorgeous person you had ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on. 

“Xu Minghao,” Gyuri’s tone is cold and she shuffles to stand just slightly in front of you, something both you and Minghao notice. 

“Jang Gyuri,” Minghao mocks, sticking one of his hands into a pocket in his slacks.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you know by now that you aren’t welcome?” Her words are sharp, and it almost scares you. Gyuri, despite her reputation for being cruel, had always been kind to you. She’d been a sort of mentor to you, teaching you the rights and wrongs in terms of “rich behavior”. She taught you the right people to associate with, and the wrong people to associate with. However, she had never once raised her voice or made you feel unwelcome. Quite unlike how she talks to Minghao. 

“I go wherever I please, Jang Gyuri.” Minghao sighs, a puff of air that makes a few loose strands of hair flutter out of his face. Then his eyes return to you, scanning your body but not in a seductive manner. No, he’s curious. You can see it in his eyes, behind the cold front he puts up. “And…who might you be?” 

“None of your business—”

“L/N Y/N—”

You and Gyuri speak at the same time, and you shut your mouth quickly when she shoots you another nasty look. Minghao, however, is amused. One side of his mouth quirks up in a mild show of this, the corners of his lips picking up. 

“So, which is it?” He inquires. “None of your business or Y/N L/N? I’m not a betting man, but I’d wager that it’s the latter.” 

You poorly stifle a laugh, covering it with a cough. 

“What do you want?” Gyuri hisses out, tapping a heel on the marble floor impatiently. Minghao presses his lips together, loosely shrugging his shoulders. 

“Just wanted to see if I could buy your lovely friend here a drink.”

“She’s taken.”

“She,” you finally interrupt Gyuri and place a hand on her collarbone to gently push her back. “Can speak for herself. And she will need a few more drinks to make it through the night.”

Gyuri sputters out an argument, trying to get you to stop, but Minghao grins down at you and offers his arm. You gladly take it, giving Gyuri one more warning look before you’re tugged away through the crowd. 

“You’re new money.” Minghao leans against the counter next to you while you sit on one of the few open stools left. There’s a martini in front of you, one that’s barely been touched since you received it a few minutes ago. 

“Is it that obvious?” You tilt your head and Minghao smiles, his head dipping down a bit. 

“Not entirely,” he looks back up and shifts his weight. “Only if you know what to look for.” 

“And what, exactly,” you lean toward him, resting your chin on the back of your hand, “are you looking for?”

His tongue runs over his lip, eyebrows furrowing in thought. 

“You’re interesting, Y/N L/N.” Evading the question. 

“Oh?” You finally bring your martini glass to your lips, taking a small sip of the alcoholic beverage. “Why is that, Xu Minghao?” 

“You don’t…you don’t know who I am, do you?” Your lips quirk into a small smile.

“No, I don’t. Is it something important?” 

For the first time since you’d begun talking to him, he falls quiet in a way that shows discomfort. Your smile drops, and you lean back on your stool. 

“Minghao,” you start. “Is there something I should know?” 

You see a muscle in his jaw feather, see his eyes dance around you to see who was around. One of your hands falls to your lap, playing with the expensive fabric of your dress. Now he’s avoiding your questions. 

“I’m…” he huffs out a breath, tilting his head back and scoffing out a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to someone I just met, but…there’s something about you that I just can’t place.”

“I’ve been told that by many people.” Minghao shifts closer to you, his arm resting on the back of your chair. 

“What else have they told you?”

“That I can be a bit…straightforward.” His other hand is on the counter, and your fingers dance just a bit closer to his, the tips brushing together slightly. “That when I get nervous, I either talk too much or not at all.”

“And…?” He leans his head down a bit. 

“That you’re bad,” your voice lowers, your lips curling into a smirk. “That I should stay away from you.”

“And I take it you don’t listen to these people, do you?” Minghao asks, his voice dropping an octave. There’s tension around you, something so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Not at all.”

“What would they do if I asked you to leave with me?” His fingers finally lace with yours and you hum, pretending to think.

“Seungcheol might not like that very much.”

Minghao scoffs. “You know damn well that he left a long time ago.” 

“But still…” you sigh and shake your head. “Someone has to be loyal.” 

A nod from the man in front of you, and a sly smile. 

“I understand, and I won’t make you do anything.” He squeezes your hand once, and you feel him slide a piece of paper into your palm. He waits for your fingers to close around the paper before he pulls his hand away. “You’ll know where to find me when you change your mind and drop him. And, when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

When he leaves the building, you feel like you can finally breathe. Your shoulders relax, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You’re in the middle of trying to get your body under control when Gyuri stomps back over to you. 

“What the hell were you thinking, talking to a man like him?” Her nails dig into your upper arm, scraping into your skin and causing you to suck in a sharp breath. “Are you stupid?”

“I don’t see what your problem is,” you sigh and finish off your martini before sliding off your barstool. Your feet are aching at this point, and you’re just itching to get out of this dress. “He isn’t as bad as you think he is.”

“Xu Minghao isn’t the man he’s seemed to convince you he is.” Gyuri warns you. “He’s a liar, just like his father is. He’ll hurt you, Y/N, and don’t come crying to me when he does. I’ll just tell you that I warned you and tried to stop you. I won’t help you if you get yourself tangled up with him.”

“It’s a good thing I won’t need your help then, isn’t it?” You retort, tearing your arm out of her grip and straightening your posture. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Gyuri, and I won’t let you or Seungcheol stop me anymore.”

“Gyuri tells me you’ve been talking to Xu Minghao.” Seungcheol looks at you in the mirror as he tightens the tie around his throat. You’re in the middle of sliding on another pair of uncomfortable shoes that will have your toes bleeding by the end of the night, and raise your gaze to look at him.

“I have. Only once, though.” Your eyes return to the ground to grab the second heel. For two weeks you had been talking to this…mystery man. You’d learned more about him every day, of his father’s scandals that would have left his family bankrupt had Minghao not come out and saved the company. You found it admirable but most chose to despise him, refusing partnerships and refusing to admit the good he’s done for his company and family as someone so young. 

And, of course, you had only done this with a little bit of research and a quick phone call to the number he slipped into your hand. You’re sure Seungcheol knows this, knows that you’re too curious for your own good. This is something the two of you had argued about far too many times to count, and he’s since given up on trying to stop you.

“I’m sure that you’re aware of everything, then?”

“Aware of Minghao’s father or of your infidelity?” You rise to your feet, and Seungcheol freezes for just a moment before carrying on.

“Ah.”

“If you’re going to whore yourself out,” Your hand brushes against your boyfriend’s shoulder and you spin him around so you can tie the fabric around his neck. “At least do it where no one will see you.” Your lips are drawn into a tight smile and you rest your hand on his chest. “At least do it where no one will see you, my love.”

“I take it…” Seungcheol watches you walk away and listens to the clicking of your heels on the ground. “...that the engagement is off, then?”

“Correct.” 

“What will you do?” You turn to look at the man you once tolerated, now finding him disgusting. 

“I think that I’ll be just fine. I have an apartment, I have a family that loves me, and a thriving company that I need to learn to lead. You, however, should worry about your status once news of your actions hits the papers come Monday.” 

Seungcheol nods slowly, his tongue digging into his cheek. 

“I have a ride to the gala,” you make your way for the bedroom door, lips drawn into a thin line. “I will have someone collect my things tomorrow morning, so make sure everything is exactly as it is now because they will have a list and I will come for everything you have if your toy for the night has the gall to take my belongings again.”

Seungcheol looks at you for a long moment, watching you leave the room before choosing to follow you. 

“And what of the deal your father made with my company?”

“Find someone else,” you shrug. “My father just wanted to make connections and you happened to give him the perfect opportunity to benefit both companies.”

“I could tell people, you know.” Seungcheol places his hand on the front door, stopping you from leaving. You turn to face him, your eyes narrowed. He doesn’t appear angry, yet he isn’t looking too pleased either. “That you had an affair. They would believe me. They would never believe someone like you.”

An easy smile passes over your lips, and you place a hand on his chest. “I don’t need them to believe me. Gyuri, on the other hand…” you kiss your teeth. “She can be quite the devil, no?”

“Gyuri trusts him?” Seungcheol asks and you can practically taste the disbelief. 

“No, she doesn’t,” your lips draw into a thin line. “She does, however, trust me.”

A silent type of anger radiates off Seungcheol as you turn away from him again. This time, when the door shuts, he doesn’t follow you. You’re glad he doesn’t. It makes it much easier to steady your breathing and the shaking in your hands.

You arrive at the party alone this time. There is no Gyuri and no Seungcheol to protect you from the cameras, from the invasive questions, and the microphones shoved into your face. It startles you and before you can get one foot out of the door, your body freezes up. One of the guards your father hired yells something, and then there’s someone sliding into your car and pushing you back. 

“Take a breath,” a soft, silky voice pushes through the yells outside the car. A hand cradles the back of your head, tangling in your long strands of hair, pulling you closer and tucking you into the crook of his neck. “Just breathe, love.” 

Maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it’s the freedom you now know you have, but suddenly you’re laughing and pulling away from Minghao. He looks just as stunning as the last time you saw him. Dark hair, narrowed eyes, lips drawn into a thin line. He’s wearing a suit similar to last time— all black, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone. 

“Are you alright?” His hand comes to your cheek, letting you nestle into his gentle hold. “Talk to me, love. Are you alright?” 

But you just keep laughing, and then you’re clutching at his collar and yanking him toward you for a furious kiss. He freezes against you, one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist. It takes him a moment to reciprocate, to get over the initial shock and sink into you. His lips move softly against yours, forcing you to calm down and actually breathe like he’d requested. 

After a few moments, you pull away and lean your forehead against his. 

“So that’s what this is about?” Minghao murmurs. “You just wanted my attention, is that it?” 

“Not necessarily,” you pull away from him, but he doesn’t let you go very far. His hand is just around the curve of your waist, holding you near to him. “I have other reasons.”

“And what would they be?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach like a teenager in love.

“I like you, Xu Minghao.” God, you sound like one as well. “Very much.”

“I like you too, Y/N L/N.” Another kiss, this time tilting your head to reach the corner of your jaw. The car starts moving again, and Minghao calls out an address. His address, you assume. 

“You’re gorgeous, Minghao,” He laughs against your skin, trailing his lips down your neck slowly. “It makes it hard, you know.”

“Makes what hard, my flower.” 

“To focus. To talk to you. You make me so nervous, it’s infuriating.” Your breath hitches as he sucks gently at the skin above a vein. Your hand curls around his neck, tangling in his long strands of hair. 

Minghao doesn’t respond, but you don’t mind. Not when he drags you into his lap, the fabric around your body now splayed across the backseat of your car. You can hear your phone ringing, but you ignore it until the sound disappears. You focus on Minghao, focus on the feel of his lips on your skin and his hands all over your body. You focus on swiping your tongue over his lip, on pressing forward until his back is digging into the door, the armrest uncomfortable against his spine but neither of you cares.

Your phone rings again and, this time, Minghao pulls away from you, tilting your chin up and handing you the slim device. 

“It’s your father, I think.” His lips press against your jaw, and you exhale shakily. “Shouldn’t worry him too much.”

“Minghao—”

“Answer him.” His hand replaces his lips, giving your jaw a slight squeeze. “Or I will.”

The third ring comes, and you swallow hard. Minghao smiles, his lips curling up as he takes the phone from your hand and swipes on the green button.

“Y/N.” Your father’s voice is steady, and you can hear the exasperation. “What is this I’m hearing from Choi Seungcheol that the engagement is off?” 

Minghao’s lips touch your neck again, his fingers sliding under the fabric of your gown to trace up your thigh. It takes all the power in your body to not gasp into the microphone, your eyes fluttering as he touches you.

“He— what did he say?” You briefly stumble over your words, trying desperately to keep a firm grip on your phone and nearly failing when Minghao’s hand dips past your lacy underwear. Two fingers prod at your core and your breath hitches. Your free hand drops down and grips Minghao’s wrist tightly. He shoots you a playful smirk, lips puffy from kissing you and from sucking at your neck. You let him go.

“That you’ve left him. That you had an affair with…” you hear shuffling on the other end of the line, and then a loud sigh. “Xu Minghao?”

“That would be a lie, father.” You inform the older man, and Minghao’s fingers sink deep into you. It’s a wonder you haven’t moaned into your phone yet but with the way his skillful hand pumps in and out of you, soon you very well might. His thumb pushes at your clit, and you let your head drop into his neck, begging silently for him to have mercy on your poor mind and body. 

“Is that so?”

“Seungcheol had an affair. Well, several affairs. Minghao simply helped me realize that I wouldn’t—” Your voice cracks as a little whimper almost makes its way out of your mouth. Minghao leans his head against yours and you can feel his cheeks stretching into a smile as he continues to drag his fingers in and out of your sopping-wet walls. He scissors them a bit, and then you feel a third sink into you. Your legs begin to shake and try to close, and with his free hand Minghao grabs onto one of your thighs to hold them open. “—wouldn’t be happy if I stayed with him.”

You hope that the shaking in your voice can pass as upset tears.

“I don’t— It doesn’t matter if you end up happy. I want what’s best for you and the business. Marrying Seungcheol would have balanced this.”

“Marrying Seungcheol would lead to a miserable life and the downfall of two companies.” You snap back, and you hear Minghao beginning to whisper praises into your ear. With red cheeks and a swelling heart, your hips begin to roll down on his fingers. “Minghao, at least, will keep me happy and will benefit both companies in many ways.”

Silence on your father’s end, and a knot begins to form in your stomach. 

“Don’t cum yet, flower.” Minghao murmurs, licking at the skin under your ear. “Wait until he hangs up.”

I can’t. You want to scream. Every curl of his fingers, every brush of his thumb against your clit. It’s all becoming too much for you. It’s incredible you’re able to keep yourself together while on the phone.

“Is this what you really want?” Your father asks, and your whole body shudders against Minghao. 

“It— it is.” You gasp. Another pregnant pause. Fuck, it’s like your father wants you to suffer.

“Have him come by my office tomorrow for lunch. We’ll all talk then.”

You don’t get the chance to respond before he’s hanging up the phone and the car is rolling to a stop. Minghao rips his fingers out of you, effectively ruining the high you’d been approaching. 

“You’re— you’re horrible.” You whine, watching as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. 

“You love it, though.” He grins and slides you off his lap so he can get the door. Your body feels like jelly, your mind in a haze. You hardly notice Minghao tugging you by the hand, guiding you out of the car and to the front door of a beautiful house— so beautiful that it nearly takes your breath away.

Minghao’s arm is placed delicately on the small of your back, and you let him guide you into the house and up a grand marble staircase. You can’t begin to express the awe you feel. You can’t help the giddy feeling in your bones when you reach the top of the staircase and Minghao takes your hand. It appears, however, that he is feeling just about the same as you when he smiles so wide that you fear his lips would become stuck like that, and he drags you quickly toward a bedroom.

You let him press you down on the bed and let him kiss his way from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, and begin to peel the straps of your gown down your body so he can expose more and more skin. You feel like you’re burning up, feel like your body is being set ablaze wherever he touches your body. The zipper along the side of the dress is tugged town, and you raise your hips so Minghao can peel it down the rest of the way and throw the fabric somewhere across the room.

“I should be mad at you for that,” you say to him, although you relish in the feeling of his lips trailing down the valley of your breasts. “That dress was a very expensive gift.”

“Oh?” Minghao’s voice is muffled, and he tugs your panties down your legs as he speaks. “From who?” 

You watch as he begins to rid himself of his clothing, watch as he reveals every gorgeous inch of his skin to you. 

“Seungcheol.” His gaze hardens when he sees you smirk. 

“Then I should burn it, I think. Replace it with something newer, prettier, pricier.” He hovers his body over yours, lacing the fingers of one hand through your own and using his free hand to align himself with you. A pleased sigh is emitted from your lips as he sinks in, back arching as he begins to stretch you out.

“Is that so?” You breathe out. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer until you can kiss him. 

“Mmm.” Minghao hums against you, beginning to roll his hips slowly into yours. “I should burn everything that he has ever given you, I think.” 

You can barely respond, your voice seemingly broken and replaced by gasps for air as he begins to thrust into you harder and faster and you can’t seem to get control of your body. He doesn’t care, though. He doesn’t care that you can only roll your hips into his, can only bite into his skin, and leave dark marks that he won’t be able to hide (not that he would want to). Knowing that you’re enjoying this, fucked too dumb to speak even though he’d only been inside of you for barely a few minutes, it’s all enough for him. It’s more than enough. 

“What would he say if he saw us like this?” Minghao continues, his hands sliding down your legs and gently pushing them farther apart. “Hm? Would he stop me? Would he try to fight for you?”

You try to tell him he wouldn’t, but all that comes out of you is helpless babbles. 

“I would,” he hisses, and the knot in your stomach returns. It builds and builds, growing tighter and tighter with each passing moment. “He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve to touch you, to feel you.” 

“And—” you finally manage to choke out a few words. “And what— what m-makes you—oh god, Minghao please— think that— that you do?” 

“You already know why, my flower.” Minghao’s hips are slapping against yours at a pace— at a furosity— that you can’t keep up with, “Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” 

The knot in your stomach snaps, your walls fluttering around him but he’s relentless. He pounds into you as your body convulses underneath him, your pathetic whines and moans turning into desperate wails. 

“I’m better than him in every way,” Minghao grits out, desperately fighting off his own orgasm. “Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you? How long I’ve wanted to take you from him? You have no idea how hard it was to not take you into the bathroom that night and fuck you the way you deserved. I wanted so badly for you to be mine.”

Overstimulation begins to wash over you, becoming a pleasurable sting that you don’t want to go away. His cock twitches inside of you and his breathing becomes heavier. You can see him trying to say something more, but all that comes out of him is a heavy groan, and then his hips are stuttering against yours. Warm cum spills into you, mixing with your own, and spilling out onto the sheets beneath you. Your legs thrash in Minghao’s grip, but he pins you down as his hips slow. His hair is messy, his forehead tinged with sweat. You can see his mouth hanging open a bit, heavy breaths rolling out of him. 

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

The sentence replays over and over in your mind amidst the scattered post-sex thoughts. 

How long I’ve wanted to take you from him?

Minghao rolls to the side, laying beside you on his large bed. 

He didn’t say anything to you, and you didn’t say anything to him. 

It was pure silence. A silence that allowed for clear thoughts. 

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

The drive to your father’s company the next day is…quiet to say the least. There’s an air of discomfort around the two of you and you’re unsure of whether it’s due to him having to meet your father or the conversation that will follow. Minghao, much like the night the two of you met and you’d asked about why everyone seemed to disapprove of him, was tense. His hands were set on his knees, squeezing tightly to the point of his knuckles turning white. His head is turned away from you, keeping his gaze on the city as you drive. It makes you nervous. Had you done something wrong? Was he regretting everything? 

You swallow hard, mimicking his position and turning to look out the window. 

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

There had been something so off about the way he said that. You still couldn’t quite figure out what it was, and it had your stomach churning uncomfortably. 

The feeling only worsens when you pull up in front of your father’s building and Gyuri is standing with Seungcheol. Both look upset, standing straight with their arms folded behind their backs. 

“What is this?” Minghao murmurs, thanking the driver quietly when his door opens. You slide out behind him, taking his hand in your own as he helps you stand. 

“I’m…I’m not sure what this is.” You admit, your eyebrows knitting together as Gyuri approaches you. “Gyuri, what’s happening?”

“You need to come with me,” she tugs at your arm, attempting to pull you away from your new lover. 

“What?” Your hand tightens in Minghao’s, your feet gluing into place. “What— what are you talking about? Gyuri, what’s going on? What is Seungcheol doing here?” 

“Y/N,” Seungcheol steps toward you, but Minghao is faster and pushes you behind him. Your hand dislodges from his, and you yelp as Gyuri practically rips you away from him. Your knees hit the ground, skin scraping against pavement. The door of the company building practically flies open, a few police officers filing out with your father taking up the rear. 

“Father?” Your throat is closing up, too many emotions pulsing through your body. 

“What is this?” Minghao is yelling. People are stopping on the streets to stare. Gyuri and Seungcheol pull you to your fight, and you don’t think you have the strength to stop them. “Y/N, WHAT IS THIS?”

For a moment, you’re afraid. He lunges for you, and two officers grab at him. He looks rabid, his eyes crazed and teeth bared like some animal as he yells and screams and kicks against the people holding him. Your father approaches you, relief replacing the typical stone-cold gaze he gives you.

“What’s happening?” You’re sobbing now, blood washing down your legs. Gyuri is crying with you, and Seungcheol’s hands are shaking.

“Are you alright?” Your father asks. “Did he do anything to you?”

“I— what—” you can’t breathe. 

“Xu Minghao,” an officer speaks over the commotion. “You are under arrest for the crimes of criminal harassment, assault and battery, and extortion. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney—”

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME—” Minghao’s hand flies out, nearly clipping the officer in the jaw as he finishes speaking. 

He yells obscenities, yells for you, at you, at the people around him. He curses wildly, using every name under the sun, threatens death upon everyone.

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

“I’m sorry.” 

Gyuri is sitting on the chair beside you as you get your knees treated. You stare blankly ahead of you, and she turns her head to Seungcheol, silently pleading for help.

“Y/N,” he says slowly, “do you understand what’s happening?”

No response.

“Minghao…we told you he was not the man you thought he was. You fell too hard, too fast, didn’t give us time to tell you everything.” 

Silence. Gyuri starts talking again, not knowing if you heard anything they were saying.

“He’s…he was planning on using you, Y/N. Using you to get…to get your father’s company, just like he did with his own father. It…it was all fake. Everything you learned about him, everything we all thought we knew about him…it was all lies. It was in the small details.”

People always said you were innocent. People always called you naive. You trusted too easily, loved even easier. It made it easy to use you, to take everything you had and throw you to the side. Some people of new money were able to gain the respect of those of old money, but you?

No one would ever respect you. 

Not after you fell for the gorgeous man, fell for his gorgeous lies and fantasies. 

Thinking about him here in this hospital room…

Something about it makes you want to sink and drown and die. Maybe that would be easier.

“Can… can I leave?” you look up at Seungcheol, tears welling in your eyes. He looks heartbroken. “I want— I want to leave, Seungcheol. Can we leave?”

Heartbroken. That’s the look in his eye that you couldn’t recognize last night. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t the realization that he had lost you. 

“We can go. It’s over now.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[dirtybitfic]

so wrong yet so right

matt sturniolo x y/n

Contains- lecture, disciplinary conversation, dirty talk , flirting, humiliation.

( matt is your professor and you've been skipping class so he has you stay after class to talk)

y/n pov ~

I've been seeing this guy on and off for a while but recently he's been persuading me to skip my lectures and I agree every time. Today I told him I have to go to my class due to the fact if I missed today id be dropped from the class and I don't need to deal with that and my parents would be up my ass.

I grabbed my bag and packed up my shit and started my 8 minute drive to campus. Im honestly glad my apartment isn’t far from campus or id be late to every class ever.

I parked and made my way into the building. The halls were quiet since this is a later class and most of the building is used in the morning.

I had my air pods in as I listened to Maria Maria by Santana and the product G&B.

I open the door of my lecture room and make my way down the first two steps choosing to sit further in the back .

I sit down and bring out my computer to type notes during the lecture and wait for the class to fill up.

After about 5 minutes the room was filled to the brim with bored students ready for the day to over since its Friday and everyone just wants to be out at the clubs and parties taking place for st.Patricks day.

im gonna be honest this class is kinda boring I had to take it so I have to suffer through but ... the professor is hot asf so I don't mind being stuck in this room for 2 hours and 15 minutes.

Okay guys today were going to be sharing the stories you've all written throughout this week . professor Sturniolo says as he dims the lights and calls up the first student to read their story.

This is a creative writing class and we’re aloud to write anything we want but I missed the fact we’d be sharing the storys... I find that my best writing is dark romance . It's all I read and it's all that keeps me interested .

There is NO FUCKING WAY i'm reading this shit in front of the class . I guess from the class I missed on Tuesday was when he explained that we’d be sharing them with the class.

After about 10 students we were an hour into class . This is a smaller class probably around 60 people. Im praying to god we don't get through everyone today so I can write up a new story over the weekend that isn't filled with smut and masks and corn mazes like the one I have written this week.

I had to pee when we got to the 30th story so I got up quietly slipping out and rushing to the bathroom.

Call me crazy but every time my eyes drifted to Professor Sturniolo his eyes were already on me . Id like to think i'm delusional but the eye contact we held as he gave me a stern look had me feeling otherwise.

I made my way back to class and sat back down . Im guessing we were on about the 35 story when he said we only had time for about three more after this one.

THANK FUCKING GOD I CAN WRITE A NEW STORY THIS WEEKEND I thought to myself as another guy came up to read his story.

I was in shock after he read his it was a story about an old couple with dementia and the only people they could remember in the end was each other as they died in each others arms listening to their first dance song from their wedding. Im not gonna lie I shed some tears .

I looked back at Professor sturniolo as he called the second to last person up to read . He looked at me with a smirk and I swear I saw his Adams apple bob as if he was chuckling at the fact I was crying from the story that was just read. I quickly wiped my tears and sank into my seat.

After the last story of the class he started talking about how he wants everyone to start a new story and have it ready for next Fridays class .

I want you guys to focus your next stories on a specific feeling . It could be anger, happiness envy... anything you're feeling in the moment . I know I don't usually give prompts but I want you guys to express your feelings and show me through your writing style so I can feel them as well . Portraying feelings is a way to keep your reader interested . Have a good weekend and be safe .

everyone starts packing up and I do as well until ...

Ms y/l/n can you stay for a second we need to talk about some things

I loudly gulp as I look down the stairs where he stands as I nod my head and make my way down to him as the last students filter out.

have a seat ms y/l/n he says motioning to the seat in front of where he stands .

I do and sit quietly waiting for him to speak.

so would you like to tell me why you've missed two weeks of class he asks as he walks to his desk grabbing a few things and putting them in his bag.

I have no good explanation so I make one up hoping he'll believe it.

I was sick the first week and last week I had car troubles and was unable to get transportation here. I say sounding a bit unsure.

did you go to the doctor for a sick note he asks as he walks over to me standing in front of me looking down at me all the sudden making me nervous.

umm no

then I cant except that excuse . As for the car troubles ... uber is an option or the bus he says narrowing his eyes on me .

I mean ... yes but I...

I think your lying to me y/n and I don't appreciate it. Id like to think I make this class fun and you are a good writer what could possibly be worth waisting your talent hmm? he asks as he kneels down in front of the desk so I have to make eye contact with him .

I don't know I whisper as my face gets red and all the sudden the room starts to get hot.

Its a boy isn't it he ask as he tilts his head and narrows his eyes.

what ... I ask looking at him scrunching my eye brows

oh come on y/n your face says it all . I hate to see you skip class for someone who keeps you from having good grades and staying focused

I don't know what your talking about ... like I said I was sick and my car was broken so I say as I look away . How did my face give him that much intell.

okay y/n here's what we're gonna do i'm going to ignore the fact that you are blatantly lying to my face and i'll let these absences slide . But... if you even think of skipping my class again I will drop you and you will have to retake my class next semester... an I understood?

y-yes sir thank you I say as I take a breathe I didn't realize I was holding and look back up at him as he stands above me.

now did you write a story this week even though you were absent?

I want to lie and say no but i'm already on his bad side . I hate to say it but... he looks so hot when he's being stern and slightly irritated. He's only 27 and im 22 which is slightly weird. Most of my professors are old as fuck but it's kind of refreshing to have a young teacher.

Yeah I did I just... I didn't know we’d have to share them in front of the class and its not exactly... something I want to read to 60 people. I say as I avert my eyes to the ground.

Then good thing you'll be reading it to me right now... I know your style of writing I read them on a weekly bases but if you'd come to class on tuesday you would have known you'd have to read it aloud .

y-you want me to read it to you now I ask as I look up at him with raised brows and worry in my eyes.

yes unless you have somewhere to be thats more important . The correct answer would be " no sir ill read it now" his tone was laced with attitude mixed with a degrading flare that had me clenching my thighs.

no sir I have no where to be ill read it now I say with a tinge of attitude .

good girl now grab your computer and come back down here and start reading when your ready

I swallow thickly when he calls me good girl as my thighs squeeze together and my face gets red . It's so wrong to think of my professor in the ways I am but he makes its so hard not too. He looks down at my clenched legs smirking and walking to his desk grabbing his chair and sitting it in front of the desk I am at .

I get up and walk back up to where I left my bag grabbing my computer and bringing it back down . Opening it up and logging in as I find my story in google docs and take a breathe . Ive never had to read what I wrote out loud and I hate it so much . The fact i'm about to read a full on sex scene to my teacher should be illegal but he reads my story's each week so how bad could this be right.

whenever you're ready he says as he leans back in his chair waiting for me to start.

o-okay I say as I look down and start reading .

I was running through the corn field the three boys chasing after me from all sides . I cant tell who's who from the masks but I know if they catch me i'm screwed. Im being smacked and sliced by the sharps thick dried shucks from the corn but I power through trying my best to get away untouched . I decide to take a left and run down a narrow path that had been cut . I hear a low chuckle close by as I look over and I continue running to see the gold mask looking at me as the boy approaches me quickly . You can keep running all you want but we will catch you and you'll pay for what you did I hear a deep voice call from behind me . My breathing accelerated as my legs grow week from the amount of running i've been doing tonight. The path all the sudden opens to a large circle with a cross in the middle where they tie up the scar crows but it seems to be missing but fresh ropes lays over the arm parts. I turn around and all the sudden my body is knocked to the ground by a large hard object tackling me .GET OFF ME I scream as the man who pummeled me to the ground holds me down sitting on my legs so I cant fight back. Should have kept running darling you're in for it now he says as the other two apear behind him. Fuck all of you I spit as they all hover over me . The one holding me down hoists me up and the others grab my arms as they push me back into the cross. The ropes that were hanging are all the sudden around my wrists as they tie me to the cross and my breathing starts to pick up . What the fuck are you doing stop take me down now I say to them as I start to panic. Mmmm no. You knew we'd come for you after you sent Darren to prison and now... you'll pay for your sins the one in the black mask says as he steps close to me and I suck in a breathe . He deserves every single year he’ll be in there and I will never be sorry for it. I say as I try to kick him in the leg but fail when my arms burn form the movement causing me to whine. Easy sweetheart your only going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that the one in the red mask says as he steps up to me . Now are you ready to pay for your sins red masks says . What fucking sins I did what had to be done I bite back.

You see sending him to prison hurt all of us and you're going to repay us . You're going to be our own personal slut . We'll take every part of you until you finally realize what you did was a huge mistake black mask says as he steps up to me grabbing me by the neck . Hell no I scold him . These three boys are crazy and deranged . So dark that it feels like the moon barely even shows when they appear.

Jake mullin , Kade Brooksville and Connor palemess are some of the worst guys you'll ever meet . They are so attractive it hurts to even look at them but they have the worst personality known to man. I knew that they would make me pay for sending their best friend to prison but after Darren killed my brother I went psychotic and tracked down any information I could to put him behind bars but at what cost.

Now they want to use my body in a form of pay back for what I did. I should be angry and disgusted but ... the thought of these three men using me like their own personal toy has me dripping wet and embarrassingly I want them in ways i've never wanted a man in my life .

They each rip off their masks and i'm met with their faces.

Jake with his blue eyes and blond hair with a perfect jawline and juicy lips, Kade with his dark hair , stubble over his sharp jaw and perfect green eyes and last Conner with his hazel eyes and sandy brown hair with a perfect button nose and sharp jaw.

Kade steps in front of me as his hands move to my waist in a tight grip causing me to gasp .Now be a good girl and spread your legs he says deeply as he towers over me . I swallow but do as im told not feeling like putting up a fight and excepting the punishment for my actions. He pulls my shorts down along with my underwear tossing them back to Jake as his right hand moves down to my bare pussy causing me to gasp. mm someones dripping wet he says with a smirk that I wish I could punch off his face . Fuck you I say as I look up at his green eyes that are boring into me . He shoves two fingers inside me and I moan out as he speeds them up and grips my jaw with the other . Look at you such a slut enjoying what i'm doing to you he says as he gets in my face keeping eye contact as I struggle to keep my eyes from rolling back. i'm shaking and moaning as my orgasm washes over me . Kade chuckling in my face as he watches me fall apart .

Connor come behind her and hold her legs up Kade says as he starts unbuckling his belt. My eyes widen as my body is picking up and conners strong veiny arms wrap underneath my thighs holding me up. Kades jeans drop to his ankles as he moves to take his boxers off too. I look down to see his long and thick dick clad with 4 Jacobs ladder piercings making me gulp.

He steps up to me and I meet eyes with him as his glisten with lust and a tinge of devilish intent. He smirks at me and I want to die right here right now. I should be fighting this I should be disgusted but... i've never wanted something so much in my life. This is going to hurt but punishments shouldn't be enjoyable. he says deeply as he slides the tip in causing me to gasp and my face to squeeze in discomfort. So fucking tight he groans as he slides more in and I feel every piercing as he thrusts in all the way and I scream. The pain of the stretch has my hands balling to fists and my eyes to water. He starts pounding into me harshly as my breathing is rapid and my muscles tense the pain hurts so good. Thats it take it all he groans as he gropes my ass and pounds faster hitting my g spot repeatedly . This goes on for god knows how long and I’ve lost count of how many orgasms I’ve had . All I can do is breathe harshly when he finally finishes inside me and pulls out as Conner drops my legs and I hang on the ropes as my legs give out. Mmm I think we should just leave you here like this Kade says as he buttons his jeans and looks at me .My face is covered in tears and spit and I struggle to keep my eyes open from the exhaustion my body is feeling right now .Please don’t I whisper with a raspy voice . He chuckles as he tells the others to untie my wrists and Conner puts my short back on but keeps my underwear shoving them in his back pocket . Kade picks me up throwing me over his shoulder and walks back through the maze to his car throwing me in and driving back to their large mansion .

I take a deep breathe and stare at my computer when I finish reading the story unable to meet his eyes.

I mean y/n I must say you’re an amazing writer . You know how to set a science and really make the reader be able to envision where the story takes place.

Thank you sir I say but I still don’t look at him

When you write these stories do you envision yourself as the girl character he asks in a tone that has my eyes snapping up to meet his

Ummm … I guess yeah

Interesting he says as a smile forms on his face

You could easily be a dark romance author you have a talent for it … I mean these fantasy’s are thoroughly thought through and I think people would enjoy reading something like this. If I have to admit I read a lot of dark romance books myself and your writing reminds me a lot of books I’ve read and enjoyed

I smile at him as my face blushes and he notices as a smirk comes to his face.

Thank you sir I … appreciate that a lot

He stands up from his chair and come behind me as he bends down to be ear level with me.

Now. You better keep that promise about coming to my class from now on . I know you can be a good girl for me okay .

His voice so deep in my ear I feel the vibrations in my head and I accidentally let a whine out when he says good girl again and I hear him chuckle in my ear as he places a hand on my shoulder as he stands up to his full height.

Thank you for staying ms y/l/n . I can’t wait to read your next piece have a good weekend

I grab my computer and smile at him .

You too Mr Sturniolo I say as I rush up the stairs to my bag and rush out of the class room.

God wtf is wrong with me I think as I get back to my apartment and flop down onto my bed .

the way he spoke into my ear .... the heat of his hand on my shoulder... the way he calls me good girl.

the way i'm thinking about my professor right now is not okay and I know that but fuck me I cant stop myself from going to my nightstand and grabbing my vibrator.

Ever since I left that building tonight I couldn't deny the pulsing between my thighs and wetness that pooled when I read my story to him .

I strip and lay down on my bed as my minds ran wild with thoughts of professor Sturniolo .

maybe this will get him out of my head and ill be able to focus from now on.

Matts pov-

Y/n is a great writer but god reading her story each week drives me wild. I know thinking of students sexually is wrong and morally illegal but I cant help myself .

I was pissed off that she skipped two weeks of my class ... yeah obviously because she should be focused on finishing out her senior year with passing grades but also because I love watching her in my classroom as she works on her dirty little stories.

The way she bites her lip in concentration… the little smirk she gets when I know she’s writing a dirty line… the way she clenches her thighs when I call her a good girl

I know she’s my student and I shouldn’t be thinking these things about her but … I pull up her last story in my computer and decide this is the least time I’ll ever jerk off to the thought of her.

I need to clear her out of my head and be professional from now on .

Next class is gonna be different….

Part 2 coming soon 💋

[bunnys-babies]

Talk To You, pt. 2

Megumi Fushiguro x gn!reader

wc: 1.2k

pt. 2 / ?

warning(s): mentions of puke, mentions of taxidermy - so if any of that really icks you out tread lightly :)

a/n: it’s been a while, but if anyone recalls pt. 1 of this, it’s just a continuation 🥰 (feel free to read hehe) but it’s not necessarily required! Could be read as a stand alone :)) just a silly and nervous first date 🤍🤍 reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! I hope you enjoy :3 also, I am very behind on JJK, please do not spoil anything in the tags because I do see them! So if this is “canon divergent”, that’s why LMAO

pt. 1

He’s going to puke. He’s absolutely, 100%, sure of it.

He’s so sweaty that he’s certain he must stink, he hates his outfit, and why is his hair so frizzy? He knew he shouldn’t have listened to Kugisaki and let her “do him up”.

The bus seat vibrates beneath him and emits one of the most brain piercing rattles he thinks he’s ever heard as he impatiently waits for his stop.

Oh god, they aren’t gonna think I’m a loser for taking the bus, are they?

Sighing and picking at the cuticle along his thumb nail, he does his best to focus on keeping track of the colors of the cars passing by. What good would dwelling on your perception of him do when it’s only making him continue to profusely sweat anyways?

It’s been a week since he got your number. Well, since Yuuji got your number for him, sort of.

And over the course of that week, Megumi’s convinced himself he’s done nothing besides behave like a fool.

He’s spelt your name wrong, twice, and then wondered why he even felt the need to address you by name in text. He sent you a list of options for dates, listing location and expected cost, as well as sending them in order of “most to least active”. And then, when you surprisingly agreed and made a choice, he sent you a calendar invite.

Nothing about this even seemed remotely out of the ordinary to him until Kugisaki asked how you both ended up deciding on going through a “local, close up walkthrough” of a taxidermist’s home.

“Huh?” Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open after she spoke, eager, and a little scared, to hear Megumi’s response.

“Well, out of our options, it was the most cost effective and productive choice. Lots of conversation starters. They seemed pretty interested.”

Doubt and embarrassment began to knot his stomach at the lack of response from Kugisaki.

“What? They picked it. So clearly they wanted to go to this thing.”

Still no response.

“Right?”

Crickets.

“Kugisaki.”

Pressing her mouth into a thin line, she stops her relentless fidgeting over Megumi’s hair and clothes and crosses her arms over her chest instead.

“Fushiguro,”, she spoke slowly and softly, “couple questions. One, did you offer this idea? Two, if so, what were the other options?”

Something about the way she spoke only increased his anxiety.

Oh, he messed up.

Unfortunately, after explaining himself, there wasn’t any time left to get some sort of reassurance from her that he hadn’t completely fucked this all up.

And god, why did he have to approach this so… professionally?

He stopped himself from letting out a groan before the brakes squealed at an alarming volume as the bus came to a stop.

Muttering out a nearly silent thanks to the driver, he takes a step out onto the darkened sidewalk. It must have rained earlier.

It takes him about 20 minutes to locate and walk to the house, his shoes covered in a shine from the dew still fresh on the grass.

As he waits, part of him is wishing you just don’t show up. This has just all played out in the worst way, and he’d rather take the embarrassment of being stood up than being around you for an hour, possibly multiple, while you pretend he isn’t a freak and that you aren’t showing up out of anything but pity.

His stomach churns at the sound of a car door shutting, and he’s back to that god forbidden feeling like he’s going to hurl, when he hears a soft “Fushiguro?” being called out to him from his left.

A visibly strained smile is offered to you as Megumi turns to greet you.

God, you knew this sweater was too gaudy.

“How was the drive for yo-“

“Looks like it rain-“

Awkward laughs are exchanged at the sudden silence you both sit in after accidentally interrupting each other.

After, Megumi silently insists you continue to speak with a few hand gestures and nod of his head.

“Yeah, I was just gonna ask how the drive was for you! It rained pretty hard where I was coming from, and I swear my wipers were ready to fly off.”

Damnit.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t drive.” He turned his body to face the front of the house, hoping his embarrassment was less visible from the side of his face.

“Oh nice idea, I hate driving in the rain. I totally should’ve considered that.” Turning to face the house yourself, you wait for him to take the first steps before walking forward.

A mixture of relief and bashfulness wash over him at your simple response and unexpected, but welcoming, flattery.

Nice idea.

Fighting back the small smile and pride swelling in his chest, he begins to walk forward, doing his best to strike conversation as you make your way to the front door despite the nagging stomach ache he’s gotten.

He’s never been so nervous before.

Kugisaki has no idea what she was talking about, this is going to be simply lovely.

—

The vomit covering the top of your shoes as you rub the spot between Megumi’s shoulder blades is staring at him. And if it could laugh and point it’d probably be doing that, too.

“You okay?” You speak so soft he almost doesn’t hear you ask.

No, he’s not okay.

He just blew chunks all over both of your shoes (and the eclectic man’s maroon carpet), vomited again at the smell, and then nearly tripped his way down the front steps as he continued to puke into the Taxidermist’s front lawn.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

Maybe it was a little more than just his nerves making him nauseous.

“Y’know, if I knew you were gonna get this freaked out over the ‘Pope Mouse’, I would’ve gone with the bird watching option instead.”

It takes him a minute to realize you’re joking. You’re actually joking with him and trying to salvage whatever this is.

Whether it was out of shock, sympathy at your mediocre attempt of a joke, or the image of that poor dead rat dressed up as the pope, he let out a low chuckle.

He kept his posture leaned over and his head down, waiting to make sure he truly was all done, when you realized your hand was still rubbing gentle circles into his upper back. Gingerly, you lifted your hand and placed it in your pocket, trying not to focus on the vomit on your shoes.

All things considered, you really were having a great time.

He’s strange, definitely a little shy, maybe even abrasive, not the best at conversation, has interesting ideas of fun, and literally threw up on your shoes, but he was such a sweetheart. It helped he was more than nice to look at sure, but his nervousness and slightly off-putting personality did nothing but attract you even more.

You’ve never been on a more eventful date, that’s for sure. And you’ve never met someone who clearly put so much thought into spending time with you, and his anxiety was more than obvious. Did he really like you that much?

Regardless, you thought he at least deserved another chance at a second date, one where you could actually get to know more about him other than the fact he might have a weak stomach.

“If you promise not to puke in my car, and help me clean off our shoes, we can try again. Probably somewhere we can sit and chat instead of stare at poorly done taxidermy.”

Unfortunately, before you could offer up any good ideas, he was back to busying himself with vomiting.

At least he’s really cute.

——————

taglist: @plutowrites @lunarsap @alonezz @softjaegerhours @onismikasa (if you’d like to be removed/added please let me know!)

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 7

a/n Hiiiii, new chapter yay. Last post I got a request for a tag list, let me know if you're interested in something like that! Also, I'm going to try to keep up the writing schedule I have now so you can expect new chapters every 2-3 days.

word count: 2.5k

Warnings: mentions of a knife and throw up

Other chapters

Hot, humid breath fans the back of your neck as someone or something holds you tight. You struggle against the restraint to no avail. Whatever is holding you has canines that nick and poke at the back of your head. You stiffen as you feel hot liquid rolling down your back, unsure if it's sweat or blood. You’re being pushed and dragged by this monster. It’s a familiar forest, a universe away. Claws press into your hips and you cry out as you feel them press through skin and scrape against bone. You wake mid gasp. Nightmare. That was just a nightmare. It had been a while since you thought of that forest. It was a trap. You had no proof but also no doubt. The lack of light seeping through the curtains let you know it is way too early to start your day. So you focus on breathing hoping sleep takes over soon. 

When you went to breakfast the next morning you were relieved to find the dining room empty. After last night you didn’t know how to interact with Azriel, having told him things that not even your closest friends from home know. So you eat in silence and try to forget about last night, the nightmare and the dread that threatened to spill over whenever you were undistracted for longer than fifteen minutes. 

When you walked into the library Gwyn approached you immediately “Y/n! I’m so glad you are back, yesterday we found something and waiting to tell you has been tortuous” blood drains from your face and you swear your heart stops for a few beats. “What do you mean?” She walks over to a table with at least twenty books sprawled across it. “There is this book that talks about opening portals with a series of symbols, they are extremely intricate and the portal working depends on making the symbols perfectly but it’s totally doable. Then in this book there is a description of different realms that have been accessed by these portals. So, in theory we would just need to figure out which symbols lead to your realm” she finishes and looks at you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a face. “I… that’s incredible Gwyn, thank you”. You are terrified to get excited about the news. If it doesn’t work… But if it does then that means a way home. “Don’t thank us yet, we still have to figure out the combinations for your realm but I think it should be done by the end of the week”. Jesus, that’s soon. You spend the rest of the day in a daze, fetching books, picturing your life back home and coming up with explanations for your absence. 

By the time dinner rolls around you are starved. “Oh, hi” Azriel half smiles at you “hello, y/n”. You sit in your usual seat across from him, “I’m starving”, fill your plate and begin eating. “How was your day?” You pause your chewing and look at his eyes for the first time since last night “oh, it was alright” you take a sip of water “Gwyn told me that they found something on portals, I could be going home in a few days”. Telling Azriel you’re leaving was hard, goodbye suddenly on the horizon. He takes a few beats to reply “are you happy to be going back?” Right now, you are regretting everything you told him last night. You take a bite and nod. He continues, trying to fill the silence “I’m not surprised Gwyn found a solution so fast. She’s one of the most talented researchers in the library” you nod again. It was true, Gwyn was brilliant, but you didn't appreciate the jealousy that flashed through your chest. That’s something to unpack later. “How was your day?” He looks a little surprised by the question, having accepted that you weren’t in the mood for conversation “it was… productive. Training was good and I got word from one of the spies on the Continent”. You never know what to say when Azriel talks about his position as Spymaster, he didn’t offer details and you didn’t want to pry. You had a feeling that asking too many questions would make you seem suspicious and since you depend on the mercy of the Night Court for food and shelter you thought minding your business was the prudent thing to do. “I haven’t seen Mor in a while, what’s she up to?” His shoulders relax a bit “she’s in the Court of Nightmares for a few days”. Right. The Court of Dreams and Court of Nightmares dichotomy. “And Cassian?” you try to hide the little smirk that will give away your plan to annoy him. “He’s in Windhaven until tomorrow”. He’s so serious. “And Elain?” “Probably at the River House” “And Lucien?” “Somewhere in the human lands, maybe the Spring Court” “and Amren?” “I actually haven’t seen her since last week”. “What about Eris?” He stills. “How do you know Eris?”. His face hardened at the mention of the heir of Autumn. “He came to talk to Lucien at the Manor, I thought I had mentioned it” “you didn’t”. Pivoting, you ask “Nesta?” He runs his hand through his hair “uhm, tonight is girls night so she’s with Gwyn and Emerie getting drunk and gossiping”. That sounds fun. “You know, I meant what I said about teaching you how to use a knife. I could teach you a few self defense techniques before you go” your mind goes to the knife you’re still keeping in your boot “I’d really appreciate that, Azriel. I’m so tired of being easy prey, I wanna be able to put up a fight”. “Great, meet me here at dawn” he gets up “sleep well” and walks away. Dawn? 

You’re tired, but there's too much on your mind. So after dinner you find yourself  at the library where Nesta keeps all of her romances. “I swear Cassian steals my novels and uses the smut as inspiration” their three distinct laughters fill the room. You chuckle as Emerie goes to pour herself wine but Nesta snatches the bottle before and pours a glass for herself. “Do you mind if I crash your girls night?” the Valkyries look at you, not having noticed your presence and you hear an excited “eeek” as Gwyn tackles you. “Beautiful y/n of course you can join us! Here, have some wine” she hands you a glass that’s full to the brim and you take a few healthy sips “we were gossiping about the boys”. Nesta raises her eyebrows “y/n, be careful with that wine, it’s not meant for humans” you gulp. “Oh god, what’s gonna happen to me?” Nesta laughs “nothing, it’s just really strong. Anyway, he thinks I don't notice but last night he basically played out the bath scene from that novel we read last week” all of you giggle “lucky girl” Emerie teases. “What about you, y/n? Any good gossip to share with the group?” You sip the wine, already feeling light headed “not really”. Nesta’s eyes glitter with something you can’t quite place as she says “has anything happened with Azriel?” she wiggles her brows and you choke. Seeing her this playful is unusual and the idea about you and Azriel is so absurd “no, he’s just been a friend” “I’m sure he wants to be more than that…” you shake your head, sipping more wine. “Not even one kiss?” Emerie asks “not even a hug” she frowns “bummer”. You feel pressured to tell them something interesting so you say “you didn’t hear it from me, but I think there’s something going on with Vassa and Jurian”. The hours fly by between the wine, the stories and the speculating. It is almost dawn when you knock on Azriel’s door. 

“Y/n?” his sleep laced voice echoes in the hallway.  You hiccup “Azriel there is no way I can train with you”. “You joined girls night” he states “you spied on us?” He crosses his arms across his chest “it’s my job”. “You are just nosy,” he yawns, “can I help you with something?” “I’ve been keeping a secret,” you whisper. The dim hallway conceals the way his face pales at your confession “what do you mean?” You look around, double checking nobody else is here and step closer to him. He’s tall, much taller than you so you grab his shirt and he leans forward to meet you at eye level. He’s pale and stiff as a board as you move your face closer to his, until your lips are just about to touch his ears and in the softest voice he’s ever heard say “I think it was a trap”. He pulls away slightly to look at your face, maybe you’re messing with him. But the worry pouring from your eyes lets him know you are not joking. “I think whoever opened the portal used me to test it out”. He’s wide awake now and your eyes are droopy. “Why do you think that?” You yawn and rub your eyes. “I need to get to bed” he grabs your forearm and asks again “y/n, why do you think that?” Your eyes are basically closing themselves and you mumble “cause, there were no sounds and-” another yawn cuts you off. Azriel straightens up and leads you to your room, he’ll ask more questions tomorrow. He pulls the covers from your bed and you collapse on top of all the decorative pillows. Azriel places the covers over you and lets you sleep. 

You feel the pounding in your head before you even open your eyes. After a few minutes you open your eyes and close them again. A couple of more minutes you open them again. It takes a moment to build up the courage to move to a sitting position. Once you do, your gut flips and you bolt to the bathing room, emptying the contents of your stomach. Cold sweat coats your forehead and your back. You sigh, defeated. Slowly, you splash your face with cold water and return to your bed but stop when you see something on your bedside table.  A note, a smokey looking beverage, bread and butter. You pick up the note and admire the precise calligraphy “Drink this tonic for your hangover. The lesson has been moved to after lunch. Meet me on the terrace. Bring the knife. Azriel”. You don’t really remember your conversation from last night but you guess you were drunk enough that Azriel figured you would not be getting up for the lesson. You take a few bites of the bread and sip the concoction and gag at the foul taste. Then, you collapse on the bed, having a few more hours to sleep before your lesson.  

You feel much better when you wake up the second time, managing to tie your hair with a ribbon and putting on your old leggings, a fleece tunic and your boots. When you walk onto the terrace you shiver. The wind lets you know that Autumn has fully set in. “Good morning” the shadow singer greets with a teasing smirk. “Thank you for the provisions” you approach him, rubbing your arms for warmth “maybe we could have the lesson in an ice box, it would be less windy”. “You have to be prepared for the elements, y/n. Where’s the knife?” You pull it from your boot “right here” and wave it around, pretending to attack him. “So, the first thing to know is to not wave it around like that” he’s serious now. I hate when he gets all monotone. “Let’s start by seeing what you would do if you were immobilized”. Fast as lightning he lunges towards you and grabs you, pinning both arms to your sides. You shriek, not expecting that “Azriel this is ridiculous” he doesn’t let up “didn't Lucien drag you across an entire forest while you tried to get away?” You huff “that’s not fair, I would have gotten free but he knocked me against a tree”. “You were too slow, you have to learn to react on instinct. Now, try to get away” you swear he gripped you even tighter. You begin to thrash, trying to headbutt him, biting, scratching, pinching, screaming, but nothing works. Until you begin to kick your legs wildly and knee his groin. He groans and his hold on you falters for a second. You bring your hands to his chest and push him away while ducking. It’s messy but you get away. Until a calloused hand grabs your shoulder and your back meets his chest again only this time there's a blade pressed to your neck. “And then you’re dead” you roll your eyes “I think I did a great job” he lets you go and you immediately miss his warmth “I think we have a lot of work to do”. You stay on the terrace until nightfall and by the end of the lesson you are able to use the knife, more or less.  

You’re walking towards the dining room when Azriel asks “do you remember what you told me last night?” Oh god what did I say? “No, things got hazy half way through Gwyn’s story about some ribbon cutting ceremony… or something to that effect”. He stops walking and lowers his voice “you told me you think the portal was a trap, is that true?” Your throat goes dry and you nod. “I’m sorry I woke you up for that, it’s just a thought I had” he insists “why?” You let out a breath and explain your reasoning. The dead air, the lack of life around the circle, the mist that caged you in and the feeling of being watched. He nods, taking all of it in. You feel embarrassed. He probably thinks I’m crazy. “I’ll contact my spies to see if they’ve seen anything recently” you appreciate it, you really do but you can’t go down this spiral again “can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m starving”. You reach the dining room and are greeted by the smell of food and Nesta and Cassians conversation. “Y/n! Glad to see you on two feet, Nesta was worried you died after last night” you roll your eyes and sit down. “How did you feel today?” Nesta asked “I threw up when I woke up but Azriel left me a drink that helped with the hangover” you pretend you don’t notice Nesta’s raised brows. 

The following morning you return to the library and see Gwyn writing notes in a notebook. “Hi Gwyn”. “Oh, hi y/n.” she doesn’t look up “I’m copying the symbols we think might lead to your realm. If you’d like we can try it out right now, we just need to find an open space and some paint”  A few minutes later she finishes and frowns when she sees your expression “what’s wrong?” “Do you think this could actually work?” She looks unsure “maybe”.

[lovepersevering13]

Hey,

Would love to read a fic or oneshot about everlark Post Revolution opening a new bakery in district 12.

Love your writing 💗

Growing - Everlark

Wonderful request!! Kinda got a bit sidetracked at the end because I love the toast babies too much.

Summary: Katniss’s perspective of Peeta falling in love with owning a bakery

Warnings: Slight references to past abuse, this has not been edited

Word count: 886

I’d never really had friends so the lack of wasn’t something that bothered me. We had Johanna and Annie, and when he wasn’t drunk off his face Haymitch too. That’s more than I ever had before the games. But Peeta was lonely, he’d never sat alone at lunch, always surrounded by a group of merchant friends. He’d always been more social than me, laughing boisterously at lunch, captivating the Capitol audience, befriending the other tributes during the quarter quell.

Right after the war neither of us had really been ready to venture back out into the world but with everyday I noticed our secluded routine wasn’t enough for him.

It had been 5 years since the war ended. Peeta deserved something good in his life.

It was actually Effie who suggested it first, we were enjoying our weekly dinner and an indepth conversation about the ever present difference between food security in the Capitol and the districts.

“Well Peeta, darling, I’m sure all of district 12 would enjoy more of your baking,” Effie suggested.

It started off slow. Peeta still held so much trauma from the dreadful environment he grew up in. We lay in bed one night, Peeta’s head on my chest as I twirled his baby soft blonde curls through my fingers,

“Do you think I’ll be like my Mother?” He asked abruptly,

“Never.” I assured him,

“If we go through with this bakery thing… I need it to be nothing like the old bakery,”

“Peeta it won’t be,”

Peeta tilted his head up to look at me, I smiled at the sight of his light, watery eyes as he asked, “How do you know?”

“Because, Peeta, I know you. You loved me when I couldn’t love you, you loved me when everything in your mind told you not to. I have no doubt that anything you could create would be full of nothing but love.”

He buried his face against my chest,

“If you want to go through with this, I will support you in every step of the way because I know it will be the most beautiful and happy place in all of district 12, nae, all of Panem.”

And so it begun, Peeta chose a lot in the centre of the new town- backing onto a large flowery field very far from the old town square.

Everyone was eager to help with getting the bakery ready. Effie ordered in all the supplies Peeta could need and Johanna even came to visit and help build furniture for the bakery.

The final product was marvellous. White wooden paneling, with a dandelion yellow trim around the roof, most importantly- a large, well lit, shiny window to display all of Peeta’s gorgeous cakes. Prim would’ve loved it…

“Do you think people will come?” Peeta asked nervously, 5 minutes before opening on the first day,

“Of course, everyone loves your baking kid,”

Haymitch assured him. I peered out the window, though it was true everyone loved Peeta’s baking, it was also true that everyone had kept their distance from their three dysfunctional victors.

“People are here,” Effie grinned, she wasn’t kidding- there was a crowd growing at the stairs to the bakery. I turned back to see Peeta who was peering over my shoulder with a contagious smile on his face. The kind of smile which you’d hardly believe possible after everything he’d lived through.

Haymitch leant over the counter and squeezed Peeta’s shoulder “Well, what are you waiting for? Let them in.”

The bakery is a huge success. Everyday the doors are flooded with regulars and new customers, all eager to fill their mouths with the sweetness of Peeta’s baking. With each day I notice Peeta’s smile grow. I used to think we’d never get the old Peeta back but every morning that I watch him kneading fresh bread in the glow of the oven it’s like nothing bad has ever happened to us.

On the bad days, which are fewer and fewer, Peeta hires one of Delly’s old friends to hold down the bakery. Everyone is always pleased when Peeta returns. On mornings I can’t get out of bed to accompany him down to the bakery he brings a warm loaf back with a bowl of soup at lunch. Somehow I’m always out of bed by dinner.

We heal, not fully, never fully healed, but better. District 12 evolves into a place of healing and growth alongside us.

Peeta’s fear of turning out like his mother becomes less by the day. I see him grow fonder of the young children running up to the display window. I think of the past, Prim, hunger, burnt bread. Peeta thinks of the future, I know he does. One day I hope to give him that future he aches for so purely.

One day, 5 maybe 10 years later our own daughter will press her nose against the window, She’ll have Prim’s eye for beauty but none of her longing. The dancing girl will never know a day where her father doesn’t sneak her a treat over the counter. That night when I told Peeta anything he creates will be filled with nothing but love will be true for not only the bakery, but the dancing girl and the boy with blonde curls who will follow shortly after.

[anothertransauthor]

Can I get a trans Pickles x reader?

Hi, yes, I'm sorry this took so long! I’ve been working constantly this week, and on top of that, I wanted this fic to be its best (a lot of restarting half way through because I couldn’t continue it, and alooooot of proofreading—haha!) That being said, all other writing will be slow because I am a slow writer! Other than this one (it's on the shorter end of the spectrum), expect a thousand and up in word counts! That being said 2.0 please don’t be discouraged from requesting more! I love all of the ideas coming from you when I’m not writing something myself in the meantime! And yes, I will continue the ABC! List both SFW and NSFW! Someone's gonna have to show me how to make a master list.

Trans! Pickles x Reader

Summary: just your state-of-the art Pickles comfort. Pickles has trouble asking for help when he needs it the most. Oh, and the reader also works with the show's production team.

Warnings: depictions of gender dysphoria, implied familial transphobia, description of surgery scars, reader with no specified gender

Word Count: 1,014 words

Pickles had always been open and rather accepting of everyone he'd ever had a conversation with, you included. Always the one to help others relax, always the one to listen, always the one to hold you with open arms. Something in you has always had the inclination in the back of your mind that he was projecting that same protection he craved for himself, but any time he starts to open up, something conveniently happens to interrupt him, or he shuts down completely. Always the reliable one, always putting everyone else first, always the rock.

You and Nathan were the first to notice his spiral when it first started. First, he was unusually snappy over little things when they were recording. He started waking up earlier and earlier, until he seemed to stop sleeping all together. Despite your pleas to take care of himself or talk to him, he kept insisting everything was okay. Always stable, always responsible, always cool.

His mask slipped completely one day during a show; maybe it was the lights, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the fans glaring eyes staring at him like they knew something. The show was cancelled that day, and he locked himself in the broom closet in the makeup room. And now here you were, sitting with your back against the door, listening to the muted sniffles as pickles tried to hold it together. Always collected, always relaxed, always…quiet….

"I’m sorry..." Those were the first words you heard from outside the door; you weren't even sure he knew you were there. You sat up straighter and faced the door now, one hand on the cheap wood that separated you. "Don’t be sorry, dude. Nathan and Skwisgaar have handled the situation with the fans."

"No- no… y/n-- I'm sorry for shutting you and everyone else out... I'm a fuckin  hypocrite."His voice cracked and shuddered again; you could hear him shifting uncomfortably before he spoke again.

"The band didn't deserve this... You sure as hell didn't deserve  this—hell you made this show happen tonight, and I blew it."

You didn't know how to respond for a second; this was the first time you'd ever heard him so broken before. Lost in your own head, you almost didn't hear him knock on the door the first time to get your attention.

"Are you still there?"

"yeah—! Yeah, I-I’m still here, doodle... Can I join you in there? We can keep the lights off—"

Before you even finished your sentence, the door had opened, and Pickles' strong arm had pulled you inside. Just like you offered, the lights remained off. But you could still make out his outline in the shadows, and that was enough for you as you took his hand in yours.

The two of you stayed that way for what felt like forever, before the redhead took a deep breath and said, "My mom called me some days ago... "I guess I had left a drunk voicemail or somethin’— called me an even bigger disappointment than the day I told her I..." He choked up and pulled his knees to his chest. Your heart broke at the sight as your eyes adjusted and you could see him better. He looked like a kid again, dejected and lost. "I know I can never make her see me that way, but I’ve tried everything else to get her to love me—even just the facade of who she wants me to be."

There was a thunk as Pickle let his head fall back against the door. He pulled his hand away so he could push his palms against his eyes in an attempt to force his thoughts into order.

"I didn't mean to fall this far... Man, I'm fucked, aren't  I?"He laughed humorlessly before his eyes met yours in the dark: "I'm supposed to be the one helping anyone else with this... I'm fuckin' famous; I stopped worrying about how I'm perceived. If you told me when I was 16 that I didn't have to live my life in a binder—I'd fuckin laugh at ye…."

A hand took yours and brought it to his chest, and though it was over his shirt, your hand could almost feel the scars on his chest. You'd memorized it well; it didn't define who he was, but it did make him beautiful in your eyes.

"I hear you, loud and clear, Pickles." Your words felt hushed as his heartbeat thrummed against your fingertips, but he understood you well. Fresh tears welled in his green eyes as he pulled you fully into his lap, hiding his face in your shoulder. Moments like these usually require very few words; any string of sentences couldn’t convey what either needed to say exactly what they wanted anyway.

Your hands cupped Pickles’ face, your fingers gently massaging the weak spot behind his ear. He groaned appreciatively as both of you sat like that; the sounds of the show getting cleaned up were hardly muffled through the thin door.

"Oh man… Charles is so gonna have my ass." He groaned weakly when he decided he was done sitting in the rank ass broom closet.

"Don’t be so sure... Nathan will get to you first," you tried to tease, shoulders easing slightly at the sound of his familiar scoff, "he's been worried about you too... Don’t tell him I told you."

You could still sense his unease as his chin moved; he was looking at the wall now.

"Hey, look at me." You pulled him back to you, his face now clear in the shadows, as you skillfully wiped the fresh beads from his eyes.

"You’re not alone any more... You made it," you reassured him lovingly. "We can be strong for you sometimes."

Pickles hugged you tight, taking his first smooth breath since he'd calmed down. You kissed his head and down his cheeks before ghosting your lips over his. He smiled against you; his smile was always contagious. You had to suppress a giggle before giving him exactly what he wanted, holding him as you did.

[quillfulwhimsyverse]

Scent of Truth: Amortentia's Dilemma Unveiled Pt. 2

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: I have no clue where this is going and I am literally finding everything out as I write.

--------------------------

“So?” Fred asked impatiently when you opened your eyes suddenly in a very heavy shock. “Earth to you, ahoy? Ye hear me?”

“Ye, yes, I am very well aware of your babbling..” you murmur trying to push the potion away from your face and back into his hand. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to process the overwhelming rush of emotions and memories triggered by the scent of the Amortentia potion. Fred's eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“So?” He asked again, his eyes burning with pure curiosity as he took the bottle from your hand and screwed it shut. As he was about to put the bottle away into his pocket (probably no longer fit to go back into the potion stand once opened) when a girl, a bit younger than you stepped forwards a bit and opened her mouth to say something, but Fred giggled and handed the potion to her. “Use it wisely, don’t make anyone go as bollocks as this one went.” He nodded his head towards you and the girl tightly squeezed the bottle in her hands before running away to her friends. She, for sure, was about to boast about the free potion she got from the Weasley himself.

“Why did you do that?” you demanded. “Are you crazy? That potion is not a toy.” 

“Love, relax, it is just a potion, its effects don’t last longer than a day, let them play. By the way, she practically stared at you without blinking as you took a whiff, waiting for your reaction even more eagerly than me. Now back to you. So? Figured out what your smelled aroma reminds you of?”

You swallowed hard. To say what you smelled wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was now making  a decision: whether you tell Fred everything that came to your understanding in this little period of time, or you altern the truth just a bit. "I smelled the ocean..."  you say, your eyes lingering on his face a bit, “then there were the books. And…” You trailed off, unable to bring yourself to say his name out loud, you opened your mouth to say something and in a coughing form a sentence flew out of your mouth before you could register“ I really couldn't understand the last scent.”  

For some reason, Fred found this utterly entertaining. It was probably the most fun he had experienced in weeks in this shop of his. Not that he ever grew bored with George around, oh no - far from it. They always found new mischievous ways of breaking something, of teasing someone, of making something new, that was potentially on the line of being dangerous. Fred cherished each and every product in his shop, but there was a delicious irony in the fact that the one item he never dared to lay a finger on, ever since he and George created it, was Amortentia. 

“But did it confirm it?” his cheeky smile playing lightly on his lips, his eyes getting narrow slowly, he was curious. Could you blame him?

“What?” he saw you were completely absent from the conversation, he laughed a little at your response. 

“I asked if that smell you didn’t recognise could’ve been the scent of a person you suddenly had feelings for?” he asked, prompting a frown from you in response. “Or was it something else and the feelings are the result of Amortentia for sure?” He lifted his eyebrows and wiggled them playfully.

Your thoughts came to a sudden halt, a momentary break in the flow of irrational thoughts. Perhaps it was because you needed that one little moment to gather everything that happened thus far, or maybe it was the exhaustion and  lack of sleep finally catching up to you…Or maybe, and most realistically, it was shock. You were so sure of something that has just been proven wrong to you.

Your heartbeat quickened and blood flooded to your face. It all happened so unexpectedly, almost akin to the sensation of rising too swiftly from your bed - dizzy, lightheaded, and disoriented. It was as if the past couple of years had been a gradual unveiling, each moment serving as a subtle reminder of what you had failed to grasp.

The way your eyes would linger on him a little longer during class or dinner, the way you purposefully avoided taking a sweater with you on the evenings out of the Burrow, just in case he took one with himself to give to you. At the time everything seemed playful and stupid to you, but it was now, at this exact moment, that you grasped what all of that was for. And you didn’t really know what to do with this information now. You couldn’t tell him, that would be stupid, not only that would be so stupid, that would also make your friendship go south so fast, you would have no chance of redeeming it ever. 

“I told you, I didn’t know what I smelled, it could’ve been anything.” You lie, but as you meet his penetrating gaze, a flicker of doubt creeps into your mind, suggesting that he may see through the facade you've hastily constructed. “It is Amortentia. Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to jinx anyone. The obsession is  going to pass anyway, isn’t it?” 

“Nah.” he shook his head. “I went through all this trouble not for you to shrug it off so easily. C’mon gimme a name. Tell me about a bloke who tried to made you obsessed.” 

You hesitate, confronted with the abrupt realization that Fred isn’t about to let you slide out of this situation without a proper explanation. And that is quite a problem to you. You created this dumb situation yourself. You sought answers, and now the very person who is the problem and the answer, is now asking for the answer. It’s like he’s asking to name the problem when the problem itself is asking for a name. 

"It's not like that," you protest weakly, but Fred raises an eyebrow skeptically, clearly unconvinced by your deflection.

"Sure, sure," he teases, his tone playful yet persistent. 

“No, really, “ you smile at him kindly. “I think I panicked too early and now everything is settling down and the potion effects are wearing down, everything is fine. See? I am all better.” 

He didn’t speak for a while then determination crossed his face, with his eyes slightly narrowed, jaw clenched, he crossed his arms on his chest. “The name, Y/N. I don’t care that the effects are wearing off.” He leaned a little closer towards you. “Nobody, and I mean no-bo-dy can use pranks on my friends, except me and George. Especially when it leaves our friends confused, or in your case,” he frowned, “all worked up.” 

A brief silence hung between you two. Fred released an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Fine, have it your way then. Is that the gratitude I get for helping out?" He repeated the eye roll, this time accompanied by a playful tone which made you giggle. “Just teasing you.” 

“I think I spent too much time here.” you remarked as Weasley Wizard Wheezes buzzed with activity, busy as ever. “I could use some fresh air…Oi!” you quickly yelp in a surprise. “You’ve started a delivery service?” 

Fred follows your gaze up. About ten different owls have gathered themselves on the staircase railing. Each owl bore a small note attached to its leg, swiftly being removed by George. 

“Oh yeah, we’ve started offering deliveries, “ Fred confirmed.  “I should go help George with that. Sorry, Y/N. Things always get hectic near closing time. But please, stay for dinner, huh?” 

Your heart gently leaped inside your chest. 

“Fred, I stayed over for dinner like four days ago.” 

Fred chuckled. "And you're still recovering from the shock of seeing our cooking skills, I understand," he teased back, his eyes glinting mischievously. "But seriously, it'd be nice to have you around. We can always use some company after a busy day."

You couldn't help but smile at Fred's invitation, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought of spending more time with him. Despite your earlier hesitation, the idea of staying for dinner sounded more appealing by the second.

"I suppose I could stay for a bit," you relented, your smile widening. "But only if I get to make dinner this time. I'm not sure I can handle another round of your infamous cooking, you’re good at making your joke shop things, but your food…” 

Fred's eyes lit up with amusement. "Deal," he replied, extending a hand toward you in mock formality. "Consider yourself officially hired as our sous chef for the evening."

You laughed, shaking his hand with a playful nod. "It's a deal then. Just don't expect any miracles in the kitchen." You were always happy to spend time with both of the twins. You were happy to have Fred around and to be around him. This new discoverie of feelings might get in the way of you actually enjoying his presence without overcomplicating or overthinking things. But how else were you supposed to understand what you were feeling? 

How else were you supposed to be sure that it wasn’t just an Amortentia trick or something? If this dinner shows that you’re nothing but a friend, a sister to him, you will go on and live your life as if this revelation never happened.

But no matter the cost, you made a vow to yourself, no matter what happens, you will never ruin this friendship for the matter of your feelings. 

“You know where to find the kitchen, don’t you? Go make yourself at home, we will be quick with you, after we finish with the owl deliveries.” he sent a wink your way as you turned to go up the stairs into their living area, which was above their joke shop. 

Fred shook his head and moved to walk to his brother, before sending another curious look towards the Amortentia stand. It seemed dumb for him to admit it, but he felt happy. He felt happy you stayed for dinner, he felt happy that you let him help. That you came to him when you needed help. But mostly, he felt happy that whatever you were feeling for someone will go away as the last potion drop wears away. 

——-

Tags for those who requested: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

[dayscapism]

K-Dramas recommendations & short reviews

Because I've watched way too many to not make a list. Warning: I like romance and fantasy a bit too much.

These shows made me cry. 10/10. Five stars. Recommend to anyone. They live in my mind rent-free:

Extraordinary Attorney Woo (2022) - Attorney Woo is such a wonderful person, I love her character. I can't say much about the representation, but I like that it opens up the conversation around autism & neurodivergence, discrimination and prejudice, particularly in work environments. I rarely like shows about law or lawyers but I was surprisingly engaged with the cases and the story. It deserves a second season. (The only thing I don't like about this show is they're pushing for a MinWoo and Choi Su-Yeon ship. Which huh--disrespectful.)

Hotel Del Luna (2019) - A great place to start with k-dramas if you like paranormal fantasy. This show has such a special place in my heart. I wanted a different ending but I am okay with it because it was a tight narrative. The main character is iconic (Man-Wol please step on me). The show has amazing sets, AMAZING costumes, an amazing OST, amazing and heartbreaking performance by Yeo Jin Goo. The main couple is so soft; like they're such good friends and coworkers and gentle with each other (eventually). It's enemies to reluctant friends to lovers. It's perfect for asexual viewers who want more than physicality in their romance shows. Cons: the secondary characters' goodbyes and backstories left a little to be desired. A few other nitpicks like Chang-Seong is the one to suggest the main character a new hobby instead of her just discovering it by herself.

It's Okay to Not Be Okay (2020) - Also a good place to start with k-dramas. This show is a lesson in good narrative; this has perfect writing & storytelling. The cast is so good. The female lead is an icon. The character work I excellent. The mental health issues are so well addressed and it taught me a lot about mental health I wasn't aware of. Each small minor character plays a very important thematic role. (The villain isn't the best thing ever but she serves her role in the themes and plot.) The production and the storytelling with the children's book animations are just *heart eyes*. The OST is so good too. You need to watch this to understand how good a k-dramas can be. A must-watch.

Goblin: The Lonely and Great God (2016) - This is the most iconic fantasy/paranormal k-drama ever. A lot of current tropes were started here I think (including the weird k drama last-episode time jump separation of the main couple). This show broke me. You will cry. The bromance and comedy are amazing here too. Gong Yoo and Dong Wook Lee have great chemistry. Main female lead is so cute and her character is so heartwarming. The ending felt a bit rushed. The death, existential related stuff with the grim reapers and such is so good tho.

Business Proposal (2022) - Best rom-com ever! (Well, it could be gayer tbh.) It's my new comfort show. I already watched it twice. It's campy, hilarious, chaotic, iconic and messy in a way that feels like real life (but obviously played up for drama and comedy). Excellent character work. The love interest is definitely written by a woman. Gorgeous cast (Sejeon omg I have a crush, but also the others). It was too short! I would have loved another episode, and more of Grandpa and Ha-Ri. Warning: this has the weird kdrama last-episode time jump couple separation.

W: Two Worlds (2016) - A young resident medic accidentally finds her way inside the webcomic her father created. Like, that premise is killer. We have Lee Jong Suk at his finest here; the character fits him so well. He was born to play a lead. This show has amazing meta-commentary on writing, authorship, and existential crisis. The confrontation between the webcomic character Kang Cheol and the author is insane! The main couple is an epic pair. Would rewatch. High wump value. Cons: The second part could have been more swoony with the romance, Kang Cheol kind of became a bit cold. (A warning: this show also has the k drama weird last-episode time jump couple separation.)

Would recommend with popcorn, I rate them 8/10:

Crash Landing on You (2019) - Really good. The main couple has the best chemistry I've ever seen. It's not that much of a personal fave show, but still pretty awesome and will tug at your heart. It got a bit overly dramatic in the last episodes and again, has that k-drama last episode weird time jump couple separation, but here it actually makes sense. And sort of mirrors the separation and eventual unification of the Korean Peninsula. It was very interesting to see the contrast between North and South Korea.

Shooting Stars (2022) - Aside from the terrible, horrible, insulting Africa storyline (where the male lead goes to 'help' African kids with water scarcity, not even a country name is called, he just goes to *gestures vaguely* Africa to help goddammit he's such a beautiful soul! /s) There's a weird creepy sugar mommy wannabe side storyline and it's weird and out of nowhere. But the rest of it is good and campy and the main characters are so cute. All the couples are cute. The male lead is a cute disaster. Female lead is also a capable cutey but a disaster when it comes to romance. It's hilarious. I love all characters. It's fun. It's great. It shows a very interesting side of the entertainment industry.

While You Were Sleeping (2017) - A man and a woman who don't know each other have precognition powers and after they meet, they use them to take down a corrupt lawyer. The show isn't very heavy on the romance, tough the pair work pretty well together. I liked the main actress. Lee Jong Suk has chemistry with anyone. The male role was not exactly a good fit for Jong Suk. He's so much more naturally charming than the character. It's a fun show to pass the time. The found family is nice and all the characters work great together. The mom is great.

The King's Affection (2021) - I'm going to be honest, I didn't finish watching this. Ups. I got bored after episode 15. It's a very slow show but what I watched was quite good. It was just not a show for me. Having a bisexual male lead was awesome, I appreciate that he falls for the main character while he thinks she's a man. (Could be gayer tho, just saying.) Pretty good discussions and reversals of gender cliches. It has complicated parent-child relationships that are very well written which gives a lot of heart and heartbreak to this story. The political stuff gets very convoluted. I really wish the queer part was bigger though, and not limited to the main couple. We could even have poly representation! I still have half a mind to finish this but I don't know There are so many other shows I'd rather watch instead. (Boy, I really need to get into the actually queer side of k-dramas because the side I'm currently on is giving me crumbs.)

Lovers of the Red Sky (2021) - The premise was so cool. This has so much lore I like and the setting is beautiful and rich, but it also has so much lost potential. The plot is very weak in the second half and could be restructured. I loved the atmosphere, costumes and the actors and their characters: the blind cursed scholar nobleman, the female genius cheeky painter and her friend trio and the prince are all great characters. Ahn Hyo Seop is pretty good in it and looks very pretty indeed in historical costume (but the design of the villain creature he's possessed/cursed with is so, so bad omg). Great premise failed execution. Good first half but it went over the rails quickly. Still entertaining if you like historical fantasy.

Romance is a Bonus Book (2019) - It's a bit slow and could have done so much more with the female lead and her child. She's a bit underwhelming and her daughter is barely in the story. The second female character played by Jeong Eu-Gene was awesome, I love this actress now. Lee Jung Suk is always looking hot and being an excellent actor with what he's given; he's very charming here. He could have chemistry with a piece of wood and yet I wasn't that fan of the romance. Maybe it's just because friends to lovers isn't my cup of tea. There's a weird out-of-nowhere backstory between the male leads. The commentary of ageism in the workplace is a bit surface level (it's not that big of a deal for the company if you're overqualified for a job, the point should be that is an issue for you and your career, who is too good for the company). You can tell the writers really care about books; it's definitely a love letter to editors and an interesting window into the world of book publishing; you can feel the love editors put into making books. Bonus: the founding members of the publishing company have very funny moments.

Do no recommend:

King: Eternal Monarch - Couldn't even finish this. I was so, so confused. The dialogue, narrative and backstory make no sense! Everything is so unnecessarily confusing. There's no chemistry between the main couple. The king and the bodyguard had more chemistry. Lee Jung-Jin (playing the villain Lee Lim) & Woo Do-Hwan (the bodyguard) carried this show and are pretty much the only thing good about it. The female lead is sidelined. It had an intriguing premise but failed execution.

What's Wrong With Secretary Kim - Skimmed most of the second half. It's a mess. The love interest CEO is such a narcissist and asshole he wouldn't be able to keep a working, healthy relationship with his partner without some serious therapy first. The female lead seems to be repulsed by him most of the time even when together and even looks scared when they get intimate. There's an unnecessarily convoluted plotline about the main lead's brother and a kidnapping in their past. It has tonal issues and it's cringy rather than funny. The secondary characters are just a lot of useless filler. The female lead sacrifices her independence and dreams to be with the main guy. Just go watch Business Proposal instead.

Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo - The only pro of this show is IU. The romance went the undeveloped route. Cheap-looking production, with too many episodes, melodramatic, characters pivot in place instead of naturally developing; it's definitely a telenovela. The point that the female lead is from the future doesn't even matter for the story (should have made her a Goryeo historian instead of a random cosmetologist). Pass!

Tomorrow - Could not finish watching. Please, please don't watch it if you're dealing with depression, bullying or suicidal thoughts. Please don't. By episode 2 I was just screaming at the screen. Problematic? This show invented the word problematic. The supernatural task force that's supposed to save people with suicide risk is terrible at therapy and suicide prevention. They tell the person trying to commit suicide, literally on the edge of a building about to jump, that they should do it, that they're weak, they should just jump, go ahead! Like ... what????

Mystic Pop Up Bar - Didn't capture me by episode 2. Got bored. Some say this is better than Hotel Del Luna but I don't agree.

Abyss - It's a weird tonal mix. Would have preferred if it leaned further into the absurd (go all in with the humour or don't at all), the sci-fi or the murder mystery. Instead of just revealing by episode 3 who the murderer is, quickly changing the plot into a chase after the villain, even though he's so lame. But also he is keeps killing people and it gets dark. And then we cut to the main couple being silly and cute. It's so jarring. The leads have a great dynamic and Ahn Hyo Seop knows how to differentiate his characters really well, give them their own flavour., but in the end it's just a cool premise, failed execution. Very average.

Currently watching:

The Crowned Clown - Very interesting concept and gorgeous, gorgeous visuals. Plot drags a little. Has some tonal problems and oversimplification of politics. The best part is when Yeo Jin-Goo acts with himself haha. He's such a talented actor.

The Uncanny Counter - Get's a bit melodramatic sometimes but all four main actors are insanely good.

Tale of the Nine-Tailed - The main romantic relationship needs a lot more development, but the entire show is worth watching just for Dong Wook Lee and Kim Bum as brothers.

Alchemy of Souls - 6/10 so far. Currently watching season 2/part 2. Aside from the prince, I don't particularly care for any of the characters. Unpopular opinion but the main romantic pair have no chemistry. Mu-Deok has more chemistry with Yul and the prince, and the prince has more chemistry with Jang-Uk. The lore is confusing and inconsistent: it breaks its own rules. (Two souls in one body what?? when was this established as a thing?) There's not enough foreshadowing and setting up the rules of magic in this world (the Ice Stone comes up as a deux ex mahcina big plot point in the last second). It also drags; the episodes are too long. There's a lot of saying and ultimately the show doesn't deliver. The narrative structure is straight out of a fantasy Wattpad. The set and costumes are fun and cool for a fantasy world, and the first episode was great.  

[n4tural1]

AI: my thoughts

Imagine a world where your dream job is certain to be rendered obsolete by a machine, now open your eyes and see the same image. I am an artist in our current age. My line of work is likely to be replaced by two quick lines of writing into an AI. Will I have to pursue a line of work I harbour no passion for due to the certainty of my likeness being stolen? An unfortunate amount of people hear anyone talking about these issues and disregard them, thinking “Oh no! Another nihilistic luddite screaming about the end of the world”, but I’m here to show you why these seemingly nihilistic claims have actual basis. AI, while promising, poses a threat to all who desire to join the workforce. Whether it’s the plagiarism that takes place in training an AI, the doors it opens for tech giants and other multimillion dollar companies to replace all workers with machines or even the fact that it steals from artists just to replace them, AI is a bigger issue than anyone could’ve ever imagined.

The main ethical quandary with generative AI is the fashion in how it learns. Machine learning, for the uneducated, works by archiving provided media into its vast data banks, in which it then uses to generate a “new” piece of media by stitching together anything similar. This, in a vacuum, isn’t inherently bad, however, its possibilities are. Closed source AI’s currently on the market have been fed copious amounts of media from copyrighted and privately owned sources with neither permission nor financial compensation. I would bet that at least half of you in this room are thinking “oh that’s not good! These AI’s should be sued!”, but that’s the thing, they can’t be. It is currently impossible to prove any specific piece of work has been used to train a generative AI, and it is too impossible to state any piece of work produced by one is copyrighted, as it steals from so many different sources, the origins obscure each other. This isn’t just image generating AI’s either, chatGPT and Gemini are text based generative AI that have both been proven to not only regurgitate copyrighted work; such as Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter, but completely make up fake historical events due to such! Most terrifyingly, voice replicating AIs such as Voice.AI and elevenlabs and deepfake AIs such Synthesia and TopApps not only pose a threat to the entire entertainment industry, but to the reliability and reputation of all digital footage. This potential replacement of all white collar work with no chance of enacting any legal repercussions leaves AI manufacturers and consumers to perpetrate this plagiarism and leaves little room for human-made work that genuinely contains soul.

“The rich get richer”. It’s a saying parodying the quote “You need money to make money”, which is quite relevant when talking about the ethical concerns behind AI. The media giants and other mega-corporations everyone gets mad at are only going to be fueled by the introduction of AI, the only reason they haven’t taken the leap is because of the public perception of AI and the writer’s strike that happened in protest of it! Casual use of AI, for personal use or purely for a joke between friends is an endorsement of AI use in general, and therefore the use of copyrighted imagery and replacement of workers by these corporations. Until some actual policies regarding the use of artificial intelligence in corporate context come into play, any use of AI, wholesome or not, endorses the self-destructive abstraction of one’s own job. I had a similar conversation with a previous friend, and here is an argument they had to say: “all productivity improvements take some jobs but if there were no productivity improvements ever there would be the same amount of jobs but everyone would be poor”. This is a poor argument due to the fact that every time a new innovation such as this has threatened jobs, there have always been union labour laws put in place to prevent such issues. However, with the speed at which AI is being developed, legislation has been struggling to keep up with the necessary interventions due to its lack of priority in all political contexts.

As previously stated, I am an artist, a voice actor specifically. My job is being actively replaced by AI, by ripping the voices out of people's throats. Disregarding the security issues especially in politics for now, any person with enough footage of someone and a powerful enough AI model can steal someone’s voice just to use it for free. It is evident that this poses a COLOSSAL threat to the entertainment industry. And not just voices! Any artist can be completely replaced by their own artwork! This is disgusting. Semi-personal anecdote here, but I heard a story, from a fellow voice actor, where they did an over-the-phone audition. I heard a story where this “over-the-phone audition” was an elaborate scam used to train an AI off of their voice, rendering them completely obsolete because they were betrayed by their own voice. This isn’t just an exaggerated story thought up for some irrelevant emphasis, this is a genuine threat that exists right now. Artists might have to stop sharing their passions in fear that by sharing them, the AI conglomerates will devour their work and spit it back out, soulless and deformed, but cheap and fast. What makes art compelling? What is art if not created by an artist? If art reflects a person's life and experience, what is “art” created by a machine? It’s nothing, it’s absolutely nothing.

So what is there to do about it? I’ll tell you, protest! Go on strike! That’s right! How else are we going to grab our government's attention? The most famous protest in history was the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, and guess what, it was famous not only because it was successful, but because this was when Martin Luther King Jr. made his famous speech. Quoted directly from an article from resilience.org published in 2024 “Suppose a movement to ban AI were to succeed. In that case, it might break our collective fever dream of neoliberal capitalism so that people and their governments finally recognize the need to set limits.” Make some noise! Get mad! Are you really going to let these machines steal your job? Your voice? What makes you human? No. We, the people, will overcome this threat, and we will take down this mechanical menace. So go out there, express your opinions, use your voice, use the rights you are entitled to as a human being to speak out against the use of AI. And remember, “silence in the face of injustice is equal to complicity”.

[jgroffdaily]

Excerpts

Stars Jonathan Groff and Karan Soni and director Roshan Selthi on the joy of making “A Nice Indian Boy,” joking: “An independent film needs a famous white person to get made.”

When Jonathan Groff met with director Roshan Sethi about a role in the romantic comedy A Nice Indian Boy, he asked Sethi to cast Karan Soni as his love interest. Groff assumed Soni was straight, but he’d seen the Deadpool actor in Sethi’s first movie, 7 Days, and liked his vibe. As it turns out, Groff’s request had already been granted: Not only is Soni gay, but he’s been dating Sethi since 2018. Sethi thought he’d have to work to court Groff—“An independent film needs a famous white person to get made,” he half-jokes—when in actuality Groff was already envisioning the exact film that now exists.

To hear the trio talk about A Nice Indian Boy is to hear tales of kismet and glee (Groff pun intended). “It felt like an emotional throuple,” Soni tells The Daily Beast’s Obsessed, also half-joking. The movie unleashed its charm at the SXSW Film and TV Festival on Tuesday, capping off an intensely personal experience for Sethi and his cast.

A Nice Indian Boy, initially a play by Madhuri Shekar, is built on a meet-cute at a local temple. During prayer, down-on-his-luck doctor Naveen (Soni) catches the eye of a dreamy photographer named Jay (Groff), and soon his wish for romance has been fulfilled. Jay was adopted by an Indian family and immersed himself in their culture, but he’s far more comfortable in his sexuality than Naveen, who avoids introducing Jay to his folks (Zarna Garg and Harish Patel) until they’re engaged. It’s Meet the Parents: Hindu Edition. But not only is he bringing a boy home—he’s bringing a white boy home. With that, A Nice Indian Boy goes from a romantic comedy to a comedy of manners to a spectacular wedding comedy.

Together, Sethi and Soni wrote 7 Days, a straight rom-com co-starring Geraldine Viswanathan. That was a warm-up act for A Nice Indian Boy, a movie that begins with one dazzling Indian wedding—that of Naveen’s sister (Sunita Mani)—and ends with another. When producers sent Sethi the film script adapted by Eric Randall (In the Dark), it was like clouds parting. Here was something he and Soni had contended with their entire lives: being gay in a culture that loves elaborate marriage rituals as long as they don’t involve two men or two women. If 7 Days was like their senior year of high school, Soni says, A Nice Indian Boy was their freshman year of college, full of new liberation.

“Halfway through making the movie, Roshan was like, ‘This might be the most personal thing we ever do, so we should really soak it all in,’” recalls Soni, whose other credits include Miracle Workers and Always Be My Baby. “This checks so many boxes of our experience, and to do it together is so rare. I remember him saying, ‘We should experience and feel everything,’ which is also Jonathan rubbing off on us, because that’s all this man does. He is in the moment. He’s never on his phone in between takes. He loves to talk about things. We want to be more like Jonathan.”

Groff says he picked up the no-phones-on-set thing from Keanu Reeves, who would strike up conversation between takes while they were shooting The Matrix Resurrections. Jay is the more sanguine character in the film, so Groff’s grounding presence was life imitating art. But even if the Broadway veteran helped to secure the project’s financing, he wasn’t the biggest celebrity around. That honor belonged to Garg, the comedian, podcaster, and TikTok superstar who recently opened for Tina Fey and Amy Poehler’s tour. During the Vancouver production, locals stopped their cars in traffic to catch her attention. “It was harder for her to go places than anyone,” Sethi laughs.

Not everything was uplifting, though. Sethi reached out to various Hindu religious leaders to find a consultant for the wedding scenes. Not a single Vancouver priest—including one billed as “the most liberal pundit in Canada,” who apparently sent Sethi a homophobic slur in response—agreed to participate. However crushing, such reactions underscored the importance of a film that’s very much about internal and external acceptance. Sethi and Soni eventually enlisted a priest based in Malibu who FaceTimed them from his stylish convertible.

For Groff, aspects of A Nice Indian Boy were like an analog to Looking, the swoony HBO series that also featured amorous walk-and-talks. “I could kind of be transparently myself while playing the character and not feel inhibited," he says. "Karan talked about that, too. When we get to do something gay, there’s this feeling of extra freedom. When it’s a gay story, it feels ultra-personal.”

Independent filmmakers like Sethi are reinvigorating a genre that has long attracted gay audiences without featuring them in principal roles.

“Even though there were financial and logistical obstacles that kept cropping up, it was an experience of pure joy,” Sethi says. “Halfway through, I was like, ’Maybe it will never be this good again.’ We did it with people we love about a subject we love.”

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

“You don’t like me,” says the Archmage with a funny little smile.

She honestly hadn’t thought he had noticed. She’s been very polite—but. Well. “Well,” she says aloud, careful, “I wouldn’t say that.” Which is true: she would not say that. It would be—rude. And, evidently, unnecessary.

“No, I don’t imagine you would,” he agrees. “But I think it is true?”

She resists the need to shift all her weight to one side and instead stands whisper-still. Her jaw shifts uncomfortably, despite herself, all the same. “You’re the Archmage,” she says after a moment. And I’m not sure why you’re in my workroom when you’ve never indicated you’re even aware of its existence, she doesn’t say, but perhaps he can use his apparently finely-honed powers of inference to get there on his own.

He looks away. “I am.” Like that: he’s not here anymore. She shouldn’t be surprised. He’s never here, which is the problem; one can see him in the courtyard contemplatively chewing the same dry bite of apple into dust from before morning classes through noon, but he’s always really somewhere else, no matter how many nervous apprentices try to impress him with their best understanding of theory told in exaggerated conversation with each other as they walk past, no matter how many times Mirabelle asks him yet again to sign off on the same thing he’s been tucking under his cup of tea all month.

She thinks of clearing her throat. It never works when Urag tries it. And Urag has worked with him a long time; he knows how to steer conversation somewhere productive, even if only by inches. She, on the other hand, knows very few conversational tricks, and fewer that would be useful here. Really, she wishes he’d just stay put and listen when people need him. “Archmage,” she says finally, gently as she can. “Can I help you?”

He blinks, the red flash of his eyes suddenly alight—she thinks again, absurd, of apples—and then dim again. “Ah,” he turns his head, like he’s just remembered she’s there, or possibly that he’s there. The shadow of his hood across his face makes him look, she thinks, older than she’s reasonably sure he is. “Yes. I’d like to think you might.” He sets a thin book on her desk, to his side. “You fix these,” he says, after a beat. “Why?”

She pauses, one hand already halfway to the book. Thermal Equilibrium. “I like to fix things.” She studies his distant face. She’s not sure what she’s looking for, but this is the most he’s spoken to her, directly, alone, in a year and a half.

“And are you—good at it? Fixing things?”

This might feel like a trick question if she thought he was listening to the answer. “I hope so,” she says anyway, taking the book to see what needs repairing, touch light. “Always more to learn, though. You know.” She’s not sure why she adds the last bit. She doesn’t know what he knows. Not as though he ever shares any of it.

The book is much thinner than it should be, the spine hollowed out loose. There’s a clean set of slices where the pages have been neatly removed—a good two-thirds of the text block cut out, it looks like; to what end, she wouldn’t be able to guess—but without the missing pages there’s nothing for her to put back, really. Clean up the edges, maybe; reinforce and narrow the spine. She opens her mouth to ask what exactly he wants her to do.

He’s looking at her with that funny little smile again, half-gone. His eyes slide off her like water, and he lifts a hand as he turns to go. “That’s good,” he says, more to himself than to her. “That’s good. You ought to learn how to break things next.”

[kepler-station]

౨ৎ.𖥔˚ cream soda cookie — crush and relationship hcs

— 𝜗𝜚 when i first saw cream soda, i thought she was really prettyyyy, ngl i expected her to have a personality more like a mix of sea fairy and white lily but i think her bubbly and confident one now fits her well too 😓🙌🏻 i love cookies with water themes, especially if the water is their hair so 🥹🙌🏻 she's also so cute and she reminds me of babu hehehehe 🫶🏻🥹

— this is not an excuse for you to talk about the cream soda controversy. talk about it somewhere else, and not here.

໑ৎ ׁ  ׅ♡ tw !! — reader is a part of the student council at royal cookie academy. stubborn cream soda cookie.

• you were a part of the same student council cream soda was in (and by extension, a student at the same academy cream soda is in)

• you two needed to talk sometimes because of council duties and at the beginning, it was purely that — the conversation topics were not fit-for-friends but rather fit-for-council-members

• but as time went on as you were a member of the student council, cream soda started opening up to you as a friend, and all the sudden those conversations about the school and your council duties were about things that friends would talk about

• but it was evident that cream soda was more interested in you than any other normal "friend" — she acted a little differently to you compared to others, more bubbly, giggly, sweet, and seemingly happy around you

• secretly she hoped that her victories in sword-fight competitions and her swordsmanship in general would woo you — her motivation to win those competitions became you and she often daydreamed about you cheering her on as she fights in a certain competition

• even if she lost, she loved being near you as you comfort her on her loss, and hearing how her swordsmanship was still really impressive

• "for my best friend!" "ooh, my best friend isn't going to like this, it's not good enough!" "my best friend is gonna be watching, i can't not compete!" "my best friend is watching i cant mess this up!"

• cream soda confessed her feelings to you after her victory in a particularly big competition — in her room/dorm with just the two of you while cream soda relaxed after being nervous the entire time, hearing your praises and listening to her ramble about it, you'd hear a small but sweet and genuine "i love you" from her with the sweetest of love in her eyes and the most genuine in-love smile you'd ever see

• cream soda as a lover is so sweet and so fun at the same time — she isn't always able to be with you because of training, council duties, and more but she cherishes every moment, every smile, and every drop of happiness she shares with you

• your lovely dedicated girlfriend makes time for you amidst her really packed and busy schedule, mostly at night when she can go to your dorm (or she invites you over/you come over unannounced because yes) and talk to you at the end of a productive, tiring day

• dates aren't as common as she'd want because of again, her busy schedule, but when she has free time she often takes you out to dates either around the campus during break or when there is no school, out to cute cafes and walking around town

• she enjoys eating her lunch with you whenever she can and she spends her break with you at royal cookie academy

• in student council meetings, she arranges the seating in a way that allows her to sit next to you whenever she can

• she requests kisses as rewards after coming back to her room after winning any competition or tournament she's in (after she's not all sweaty, of course!)

• she enjoys having you as an audience when she trains to point out her mistakes or weaknesses when practicing, and has now been more nervous for competitions because she knows you're watching her (and she strives for victory even more than before in the name of her lover)

• she's more likely to listen to you when you tell her to take breaks from constantly pushing herself to study or train or to be a model for the other students at royal cookie academy to imitate and idolize — its not guaranteed that she'll listen to you everytime because she's the student council president anf the best performing student at royal cookie academy, of course she needs to put up a perfect and amazing image for students to idolize and follow, but she's been taking breaks more often because of you (and it seems like she's more genuinely happy and relaxed now! good job!)

• i wouldn't say she's fishing for compliments, but you'd def need to tell her that she's enough for a bit in order to get to the point where she takes breaks because of you

• it takes a while of strong convincing effort to get cream soda to relax a bit because as the student council president she— okay we get it, but she def listens to you bit by bit, slowly listening to you and taking breaks here and there until she's more and more relaxed day by day

• this is definitely a conflict topic early on because of how stubborn cream soda can be but it gets resolved quickly because cream soda has experience (i imagine council presidents deal with conflicts and complains sometimes, take it with a grain of salt from someone who's only been a secretary in elementary school 😓)

• calls you sweet petnames like "sweetheart" "love" in private or between the two of you but would most likely just refer to you by name when around others as to avoid rumors getting around (which is fruitless because there are already rumors), also calls you the names that she'd call you when you two are best friends — shortened versions of your name, inside jokes, more jokey and fun nicknames, and the like

• back when cream soda was merely crushing on you, there were definitely rumors going around that cream soda resolved, but those rumors just turned into the students just being like "oh, it's the it couple of royal cookie academy"

• speaking of that, you two are definitely the power couple of royal cookie academy !! 🫶🏻 (and cream soda secretly revels in joy whenever she overhears students say it hehehehe)

[omegaremix]

Red Bull Music Academy noise showcase @ Output, N.Y.C.; May 13, 2015.

Not too long ago, Brooklyn Vegan posted a show which had Merzbow, Prurient, Ron Morelli, Pharmakon, and Aaron Dilloway of Wolf Eyes performing with Genesis P. Orridge, all on the same bill. There was absolutely zero chance I would miss it. It was all or nothing. By chance, a roll of the dice resulted on some of the most notable noise and experimental artists to share that ticket which was reason enough to go. Twenty dollars worth of admission allowed me a rare opportunity to attend what would be my first noise show. I knew with all of what would be awaiting, I would not be disappointed.

Arriving in Williamsburg that night was an experience. Real city structures, roving buses, and tattered streets under construction. Walking down the street from the G Train and down to Wythe Av., I noticed an endless rally of stickers, murals, and Banksy-style stencils which defined itself heavy artist territory. Many bars were open but as soon as I walked past the many queues waiting to enter the larger venues, I knew I was getting close. I arrive at Output where the line was already three buildings down. At the tail end of that line was this sad, mopey brown-filled has-been sitting on the sidewalk who murmured each passer-by for an extra ticket. No one bothered or cared to notice him. The people waiting in line at Output looked like they had their shit together via native dress-code. Nothing I ever experienced back on Long Island. It was all very fresh where people get right to the point in sophisticated conversation and cared to look their best by hitting directly at the bullseye dead-center, rather than settle for the simpler, majority way out. Behind me was Manhattan in all of its ultra high-definition glory: One World Trade Center, the Empire State and Crystler Buildings, all in a sweet night-sky blue backdrop. After forty-five minutes fearing I would miss the later acts I wanted to see, I was finally in.

New York City’s own noise mistress Pharmakon was the first act I came to see and she’s been getting heavy notice for her output as a female noise artist. She wielded a metal sheet creating multiple layers of loops and rhythmic patterns which signified “Body Betrays Itself” (2014). Her trademark subject matter of survival, nature, health, and organics had been paired with her sounds of mired drones, misery, darkness, and depression which made up Bestial Burden. Then the game-changer: Pharmakon gets off-stage to slowly introduce herself into the crowd in confrontational fashion. She was absolutely not afraid in cutting her own path through the audience to yell and scream in their faces. In a major shot of brilliance, the strobes were severely turned down, allowing Pharmakon to have a very well-played game of ‘where the fuck is she?’ as the entire crowd had no idea where she was. The audience even had to tether the microphone cord to avoid wraparounds and entanglements before she materialized again (she won). I was hoping she would murder someone. Throughout her whole set, her emotions were very distressed, aggravated, and just about had it. Her overall catharsis with being totally unafraid to express herself and interact with the audience totally won the audience over.

Prurient took the stage next to perform the entirety of his milestone Pleasure Ground record (2006), which was a good thing since this was the Prurient I hoped to see and I / we got it. Dominick Fernow, who is also Hospital Productions, utilized all of his warheads for this one, ranging from sudden movements, convulsions, writhing, and arching backwards with two microphones screaming upwards while showcasing his black hole of pain, conflict, romanticism, and agony for all to see; flailing himself in insanity and instability. All of this unfolds as the entire backdrop halts to an extreme close-up of a smiling joker face gleaming at him to claim victory over Fernow’s proposed destruction. The noise finally stops for his mic check to dedicate his entire set in remembrance of a member from Bastard Noise.

The next tables were set up with someone I wasn’t familiar with. I later found out to be Aaron Dilloway of Wolf Eyes who had an array of tape loop machines and other electronics laid out. As Dilloway set up shop, industrial legend Genesis P. Orridge arrives on stage for a very favorable welcome. Some botched mic tests had Genesis jokingly fault the DJs and overhead board crew which had everyone laughing. It was an experience in having to finally witness Genesis in the flesh whom was decades forward from his early Throbbing Gristle days. His subject matter of distance, identity, and self-value with constant strumming of the electric violin along with Dilloway’s tape loops and bone flute were hypnotic and mesmerizing, generating sounds which were spatial, encompassing, and far-reaching. For a special bonus, Genesis led the way for all of us to sing “happy birthday” to Dilloway. We all could not be more obliged to do so.

The fourth and final act I stayed to witness was the pioneer of noise, Merzbow, whom had been making Dada-philosophy sound collages since 1979. Knowing Merzbow for pushing the extreme, there would be absolutely no mercy. In fact, we knew we were fucked when we saw Merzbow’s table being brought in: an entire set up of knobs, hardware, switches, wires, dangling power strips, effects pedals, more wires, a four-coiled box, and a homemade three-coiled guitar which Merzbow strummed relentlessly non-stop for more than half the show. Those without plugs had to deal with direct hits of streaming white noise, loops, snapping pulsations, and blaring decimation which would be expected of any classic Merzbow material. A huge bonus for including television static-grade interference as backdrops to accompany his whitewash of sounds. Sadly, it was getting late. At three in the morning with work waiting for me out east at one p.m., I had to cut loose.

This was my very first noise show. It was also the most involved show I ever attended. Not one single minute of it was wasted thinking about petty life stuff or drama. I focused on every drop of it. Why? Noise is damn intelligent stuff which isn’t or can’t be consumed by everyone. It has brought the most unusual sounds, philosophies, and images for me to figure out which most genres can’t do (see also Boyd Rice and Whitehouse). It displays what is usually kept away from normal eyes; its rarity and controversial nature is why noise had interested me for years. In its true nature, it’s unadulterated. It throws all rules of sound out the window and if done right, really brings out true emotion and feeling. Noise artists are not full of shit. They are very down-to-earth and for the most part our equal. There’s no feeling pretty for millions of your peers, no putting on a façade, and nothing to give everything away or simply to figure out in five seconds. It is what it is. Very few of my peers could only tolerate or understand it, which give noise enthusiasts like us bonus points in allure, intrigue, and interest in it. For someone like me who was well-seasoned in noise music and operating a college radio show, this experience would be a huge supplement to what I would do for my show on WUSB but also for myself.

Interesting enough, Red Bull (yes, that Red Bull) held this night for their music academy. Turned out they did noise music and their performers that night a huge favor in giving them exposure and allowing them to do their thing with no strings attached. These days, you now have auto manufacturers like Scion who are doing the same thing by putting their hands in the music cookie jar as well. They, too, also featured Merzbow with the same amount of respect and justice.

I left Output with only a couple of minor negatives. Who I didn’t get a chance to see was Ron Morelli, label head of L.I.E.S., who is now associated with Hospital Production’s distribution. Perhaps he may have been before entry or after dismissal. His works such as Spit (2013), Backpages (2013), and Periscope Blues (2014) and his label compilation Music For Shut-Ins (2014) were all of a result of Hospital which had me discover Morelli in the first place. Better luck next time. Second, there were a couple of shoving matches during Prurient and Merzbow’s sets, no thanks to a couple of pathetic jerkoffs who seemed to act more than happy during what was a serious noise session. One, especially, was quickly mini-fist-pumping and making sarcastic silly-faces during the show. Out of nowhere, some at the front were then pushed and shoved forward by said degenerates. Too bad Output had a zero tolerance policy for photos and video-taking but allowed these children to stay and almost fuck it up for everyone else who wanted to enjoy the show. I was hoping someone would give them a swing and have them carried the fuck out. Again, better luck next time.

Regardless of a couple of misses, this would be something I will take with me for years to come. The time I spent being where I truly want to be in New York City, the long walks to and from the G Train to Wythe Avenue, witnessing new people and an uncommon scene, seeing your intellectual heroes perform what you always enjoyed listening to, the total disparity of people waiting in near-empty subway terminals for twenty-minute arrival times, the hour-long wait at the Woodside terminal to ride the sunrise train back to Ronkonkoma and be home at six-thirty a.m. with being totally deplenished of all energy for work later that afternoon…I’ll do all of this again very soon.