#this is less public appeal though

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

okay so i did the summer and winter shoes so but do i need to do the work shoes too 👀

[icewindandboringhorror]

It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.

Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

payoff of being embedded in a unit of authoritarianism since birth is sure then being able to go like "wow this is just like dynamics & phenomena i experienced up close & personal, repeatedly, in many contexts & configurations in my first two decades of life" plus also beyond that in abuse culture world & the noncoincidence that even interactions beyond the confines of the home(tm) reinforced / did not contradict the hierarchy & concomitant abuse within....but then like hey yeah also the Larger Units of hierarchy & abuse / authoritarianism (ft. their logics & practices necessary for continuously & continually shoring up that hierarchy) can also make it like hey yeah the Two Parent abusive nuclear family more like the Two Party [the US is also a one party state but in typical american extravagance they have two] where right wingness is defined by the degree of directly embracing white supremacy & "left wing" is "anything else" hence like wow The Left is always infighting (everyone with any ideas besides "umm christofascist white ethnostate?" so like yeah there are many other ideas) vs The Right's admirable cohesion (simply re: the white supremacy idea which also necessarily embraces all other Out Group / Nonperson paradigms & practices b/c that's what all already has been necessary for shoring up the [when has the US been a nongenocidal non white supremacist non oligarchy])

like obviously individual experiences & contexts vary but like narrowing in on [the Family as immediate relations ideally cordoned off into nuclear households] ft. [Parental Authority the top priority of which is preserving that authority, ideally patriarchal, an abusive mother e.g.? hey, that ought to be the father] times it's like, think people tend to struggle re: having the "nicer" / "safer" parent who was also shitted on as well but also at the end of the day would always side with the "meaner" "more dangerous" parent, even in whatever terms most sympathetic to the abused parties, with the underlying logic that we're always just going to have to deal with them so some secret strategic mitigation is the best that can be done, perhaps the equivalent of being sent a ":(" after an Onslaught Of Expressed / Enforced Authority(tm) event....the tendency to see the best in any lack of actual intervention / protection on the assumption That Could Never Happen Anyway & forever At Least that the one parent isn't as bad as the other [the Not That Bad / Could've Been Worse infocation, like free bingo square in manifestations of minimization if not outright abuse denial] & all the sympathy for, you know, being human & doing their best(tm) &c which sure might all be true but the abused parties (oft children, more vulnerable than adults, by virtue of being children i.e. considered legal property of some specific adults & theoretical property of any adults in general (the paternal logic in any "protect [xyz]" like maintain one group's supposed ownership / control over [xyz] "for their sake" then? great) & also generally smaller & newer at being alive in this world) but who are liable to not extend that sympathy to themselves (or certainly not be extended that sympathy....when is "they're doing their best / they're only human / they mean well or whatever / they love you, they're family" successfully deployed the Thwart an abusive parent like it is to tell an abused child to not be too resentful of this situation, when is it actually deployed toward the abusive parent at all really. & again in the lack of boundary between the authoritarianism within many individual family households & that of the state they exist in (here re: the US) like that naturally one encounters the logic of abuse expressed just as "common knowledge" & the Assumptions of other people, e.g. the rejection of a parent having zero access to a child, the reinforcement of automatic apologia deployed for whatever a parent could possibly do, argued for "family", yet not deployed the same way to automatically defend anything thee child(tm) could do, thinking emoji lol....see: like the non boundary between [the Patriarchal home/family(tm)] & capitalism when uh oh capitalism the system of continuously maximizing exploitation Needs various forms of labor to be unpaid, uh oh another lack of boundary when white supremacy is used to also shore up the patriarchy that shores up the white supremacy, e.g. that even if in some "inferior" class it's treated as More Important that at least you're not that And black, the theoretical ideal/normal white man is a person while a white woman is a woman while a black woman is black, white women could have any legal property via chattel slavery which needed white women's participation to help enforce, the specter of sexual violence all coming from nonwhite & especially black men & it's up to the genteel white man to Protect Women (see prev, implicitly white or you'd have to specify otherwise)

anyway that is to get around to pointing to the Two Parent System wherein so shockingly the results are the same as the One Parent System re: abuse maintaining The Family (properly, i.e. unquestionable & certainly undeniable parental access to children, & "ideally" ofc again the patriarchal Father as ultimate authority w/ownership over the Mother, who in turn is theoretically honored for that motherhood (at least you own your children, insofar as it doesn't contradict w/what the father wants to do with his superior claim to ownership) & then finally all the obviously shittiness from being in that position in a patriarchy is in turn dumped on The Children who are ungrateful & owe the mother everything Because of what the broader society & immediate personal expressions of that abuse have done to her. see also ofc that two adults likely don't have the resources to raise a child in time or money or energy, maybe there's only one but also even an extended family's worth of adults aren't enough, is it enough when a child is sent to school for some other adults to be in charge most of the day, or even if someone is hired to look after them beyond that, all this ofc with the assumed premise that a child is always limited to the various Domains of The Adults In Charge, & from there i segue into how naturally being in gay baby jail unless & until adults are no longer recognized as Legally In Charge Of You (the grand like 5 minutes it's relatively been since the ideal timeline of a woman's life wasn't being legal property of her father until asap passed along to legal property of her husband. still considered ideal ofc but like with "maybe you can have a bank account" now & "maybe you can become 29 before you're in Old Maid danger" Maybe, i said, Maybe....anyway that obviously adults(tm) being divided up (atomised. spritz) into Households isn't even supposed to be enough to live on their own, re: necessitating Marriage, much less uh oh having kids who are stuck with their parents who are stuck with them, but then all the obvious actual problems & abuses inflicted on Adults to have to have their family households & exploited jobs are dumped on the children who Must appreciate & be loyal to the parents (i.e. never Deny Access) while yknow kids have Fake Problems they're whining about, the one Real Problem of having to pay a bill gets the payoff of leverage to tell your children to shut the fuck up or perhaps the more vulnerable spouse

hm didn't segue right into "so shoutout to like The Ratchet Effect diagrams lol, the "Two" Party System where its supposed left wing Blocks Movement To The Left, right wing Moves Everything To The Right" but even that is like, mm, conferring a passivity to what democrats do in the continual movement to the right (won an election? lost an election? the lesson either way is The Right Is Right; exact same logic as in "winning or losing" "the war on crime" like the collection & analysis of whatever statistics show the trend of some "crime" is increasing in frequency or magnitude? show that it's decreasing? the lesson either way is Cops Need More Power) like the institutional effort of democrats to push a candidate nobody wants through primaries (did we even do that this time around. oh great that the assumed candidate even graciously agreed to not force themself as The Candidate, & now like 5 min left with the Next In Line candidate dumped on everyone now with the lesson for the left(tm) to shut up already lol) & then it's up to Grassroots Voters. it's up to Unity & well we all Need to listen to the white supremacists, points were made, in the "elections" with voting as limited as possible & with the electoral college & supreme court as Safeguards against democracy & here's the senate, eternally thus, & again the conclusions will always manage to be moving To The Right, paraphrasing from twitter like democrats are about to be or already at the point of "in the name of unity we will no longer be running against republicans; it's too divisive :(" which yknow is already The Statements of all of yesterday from various like "i'm the republican official white supremacy agree-er now" after also the entire campaign of "no, I'm the fascist" where like wow shocking that the appeal to the fascists didn't win a) the fascists who will ofc want the even more overt fascism, why wouldn't they or b) the people who want antifascism actually, and do not want fascism; who could have foreseen? & it's always the fault of being Too Antifascist for the actions of the fascists or the Diplomatic Comprimises the other party makes with the fascists &/or their Failure to thwart them....the Nicer, Safer party in power is surely doing their best & at least they're not the Meaner, More Dangerous one but at the end of the day they'll always side with that party over america(tm) & those bearing the brunt of the actions of State Power can be told to keep their chin up or else to stop acting out b/c how do you expect that state power to respond, cmon, you bring it upon yourself, & you Have to work with them & understand all their feelings & your role in resolving those feelings by being lesser inferior property, you do Have to understand, b/c in the end this is All About Family, surely Good & Necessary, whoops i mean in the end this is All About America

anyway yeah i'm like damn my "nicer" (also shitty) father who was also the even more sexist & racist (& certainly no Less ableist, queerphobic) parent was basically the democratic party of the Two Parent System of Family Government lol. b/c we Need to perpetuate this Family, no other logics much less actions are acceptable....& people struggling with the Parent / Adults in their life like that who were the "safe" & "protective" ones who markedly failed to protect & minimized the harm afterwards but also in general, never to confront the reality of the situation, or do damage control like "aw some points were made at all :( ah i see you have Feelings about this :( hmm yes the Parental Power is gonna have to make some changes" & then as soon as possible (assuming reeling in the party who was deviating too much) these changes(tm) are already compromised or diminished if done at all, & then oops things incrementally might be right back to how they always were, no guarantees it won't be Worse b/c the Power is even more insecure / aware of weaknesses, & the only way this is thwarted is if the Wayward Parties can actually leverage new boundaries / less vulnerability, not b/c the supposedly sympathetic parties, who never came through where it counts & likely would also become overt antagonizers / wielders of whatever power within the Family hierarchy / turn on the more vulnerable parties to Get Them In Line, actually came through. movement Away (more disruptive to the maintenance of The Family, The State) is blocked, incrementally only ever moving everything back, & then Further....& despite this being what the power structures are, & do, the Disruptive parties liable to be scapegoated lol, can't believe the scapegoat child is ruining everything for everyone, this Family would totally improve & start being everything it could be otherwise & we ignore who actually has the power & is actually enforcing the hierarchy harming everyone to point to that scapegoat; can't believe thee left is destroying america (republican voice) can't believe the left is destroying america (democrat voice) So You See? The Undeniable Consensus. just like how i believe it was my fault my family unit was Like That & i had those experiences, according to the vast majority of Input from that family & even others who, knowing nothing, would say how Lucky i was to be relatively close to home, or just of course that oh well parents love their children & mean well & try their best. just like how i believe that being treated like i've been generally as a neurononconforming person, i.e. hated & the interpersonal abuse & bullying & ostracization & [attention possibilities: ignored, responded to but negatively, interacted with to get something from] & actually rewarding interactions or just actions being liable to get Deluxe authority responses as disruptive(tm) & ofc disobedient(tm) like hell fuckin yeah lol. just as i don't think that other people who have similar experiences or ones i don't have, i.e. assessed race being automatically seen as wrong / inferior, being isolated & undermined from all around? well gotta be their fault then, cmon lol....Abuse is actually normative, not extraordinary, in every Arena of interactions, & so are the logics / apologia / assumptions

anyway lol re: like yeah people struggling with the like betrayal of the "nooo i'm on your side, i sympathize, i'm the one who's nicer & you Need so that things aren't even worse" party, not even One Big Novel betrayal, but rather that that's what's Been done the whole time & doesn't stop. that supposedly if you have Any sympathy for that party you have to be like aw :( keep doing your thing (necessarily reining everyone in) or if you have Any sympathy for the people who also want things to improve but blame & take it out on the more disruptive parties (more disruptive to an abusive family e.g., btw. & not like i see Cohesion as necessarily some Good rather than neutral? when i'm autistic / my existence is supposedly antithetical to this? or when i'm able to look at a zillion hypothetical or actual situations & recognize how "cohesion" isn't the best goal / a destructive one / a vague concept anyways like cohesion Between Whom? on what basis? recognized & pursued how? why? up next: same as vague shit like "family" or "community" &c) then it's like yep gotta be Responsible for their feelings too if you're at all sympathetic & capitulate, The Only Possible Action, vs the idea of those in power actually making things shit stopping, much less being stopped / having to stop in the various ways that can happen....one way being "oh no, adult children who choose to be no-contact with parents" which is seen as A Tragedy, & sign of a Deteriorating Society, take me back. ah jeez oh no, look at the divorce raaates....Oh No, twentysomething women aren't pursuing marriage enoughhhh....again the undetectably identical echo when people peak vaguely talk about "conflicts" that thwart "community" or whatever, ugh nobody will date anymore, commit anymore, be friends anymore, hang out as coworkers anymore, talk to me if i want to talk to them anymore, &ccccc....

the real tl;dr is like wait ""two party"" (one party) US electoral system, just like ""two parent"" maintenance of thee family lol. ratchet effect raise your hand if you've only ever experienced Movement Away from the abusive family blocked, forever incrementally ratcheted back in to the desires & pursuits of those most in power / top of the hierarchy / thus of course most invested in the abuse, that's what the power & hierarchy is made of, sustained by, perpetuates....sorry doing our best :( sorry that's just all that's realistic, no other choice Really. cmon. kind of Your Fault if you don't agree to that & whoops now Everything is the fault of whoever doesn't agree & cooperate enough :( now look what you've done & brought upon yourself :( & we'll just forget the eruption of violence suppression happened & will happen again & be the overhanging threat all in the meantime

[allforhee]

— 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐒! (ONESHOT) | LEE HEESEUNG

୨୧ pairing — secretary-general!lee heeseung x delegate!fem!reader

synopsis: decelis high's academic weapon, future valedictorian, model un prodigy especially in the crisis council, and top-notch secretary-general of the mun club, lee heeseung has it all. from earning constant "best delegate-s" left and right, no one dared to go against his stances in any debate. until a student like you transfers into decelis high. as a soon graduating senior, you were a newbie to press. but with your endless love for writing, you'd managed to steal the hearts of your peers. it was your first mun, and you didn't expect much. but when heeseung finds out about an article you've wrote about his arrogant performance in a recent committee session, he is set to strike you down.

୨୧ genre — kinda angsty but with happy ending, high school au, secgen/crisis delegate!heeseung x press delegate!reader, academic rivals to lovers, dumbasses in denial, a brief moment of rivals in public but lovers in secret, one sided rivalry

୨୧ warnings — a lot of model un terms (hope you guys can understand), cursing, hurt no comfort, heeseung highkey hates reader, reader is a bit feisty and could care less but she lowkey has parental issues, featuring all the other enhypen members, aespa's winter aka minjeong, txt's yeonjun and beomgyu, stray kids’ i.n, gidle's shuhua, and ive's wonyoung, one bed trope, forced proximity

୨୧ word count — 13.3k (not proofread, but will slowly edit/make changes to tiny minor mistakes found)

୨୧ author's note — dear readers, i'm back from a long overdue hiatus with a new layout and theme! this fic is long as HELL i didn't expect it to reach this long omg. i also changed up a couple details so it will be quite different from the teaser! i’m so sorry for the long overdue wait, senior year of high school has been so hectic, and i’ve been finally able to finish this so enjoy :) omg holy shit y’all are finally reading my full length fic i’ve been harboring since what? february?

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 had it all.

the walls of his room were littered with delegate lanyards from conferences across the globe, "best delegate" certificates framed all over his house (and a couple crumpled up inside his desk to fit the space), and a collection of trophies stood in every nook and cranny.

no one at decelis high dared to go against his stance. whenever it was, whether it was a moderated caucus or unmoderated, he'd always have his country or character's placard raised high, ready to speak, or leading whatever bloc was being formed.

there was no doubt that no one had ever beat him. it was no doubt that he was decelis high's mun club's secretary-general, and those who chose to go against him either got crushed in fear or knew when to step back.

even with his "best delegate" status, he wouldn't have gone far without his best mates, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon.

park jongseong or jay, most known for his cold stares in the debate room, ready to make a delegate tremble, would always chair crisis. he was decelis high's deputy secretary-general alongside heeseung. and although being heeseung's best mate, he never favored him when it came to awarding. it's just that he was naturally talented.

sim jaeyun, known for his popular slogan around the school; "jake it till you make it!", was the strongest when it came to knowing what a country or character believed in. his research skills were like a pirate on the hunt for lost treasure, he had all the facts, the data, and the proof to back up any stance. whatever heeseung needed to know, jake already had his back.

and park sunghoon. even though he was the quiet one of the bunch, his position papers never ceased to appeal to any chair. even if he wasn't as strong in speaking out during committee sessions, his fingers were his weapon. the guys would always ask him why'd he chair press and not join in the heat with them, he'd always answer with "my words are stronger than my actions." where jay would always respond with "isn't that the other way around bud?"

the four were unstoppable when it came to model un. lee heeseung was unstoppable. he was. until you came along.

you were quiet at first. everyone just saw you as the new girl who transferred for her senior year. nobody cared. until decelis high's annual mun conference, which happened to take place a couple weeks after the first day of school.

students from all over the country gathered at decelis high once a year to join in on the fun. various councils were presented at decelis mun, from heeseung's favorite council, crisis, and multiple others like unhrc, who, unsc, disec, unicef, and your favorite, press.

without a doubt, you registered yourself for press, opting that you didn't have the guts to join any other council. you feared you'd tremble listening to another delegate question your stances and ideologies.

your parents would always encourage your writing. as a child, you loved to write little imaginary stories about your life as a princess. writing stories about the love you've seen in your parents, you were set to write a book. but when your mom passed away a few weeks before your senior year of high school, and your dad constantly traveling for work, you had resorted yourself to watching the news all summer long, spiking your interest in being a journalist, where all you had to do was report whatever was going on, spit out what had to be said, and done. you didn't need to think long and hard on what your character was supposed to do next to support the storyline, no opinions, no biases.

as you stepped into your assigned council's room, you felt a gush of wind. the nervousness had gotten to you more, seeing all the socially bright journalists with their laptops open and chatting amongst each other happily.

"hi! you're a new face! oh and you're cnn! me and you will be best buddies! bbc here!" a girl squeals, she has a bright smile and a oh-so friendly demeanor. no doubt a popular trait amongst the press council.

"minjeong! don't scare her off. we're so sorry, she sometimes comes off a bit too much to new people. i'm wonyoung, the co-chair for press." she introduces herself.

"oh, hello. i'm y/n. i just transferred to decelis this year. it's my first time at press." you smile. you lost all your socialite cheerfulness over the summer, but meeting minjeong and wonyoung felt like you've been recharged. "oh and i'm the journalist for cnn?"

the girls take a glance at your nametag, examining you, before wonyoung cuts, "first time? don't worry sweetheart, we'll tell you all about it! right hoonie?"

a tall figure walks up to the three of you, no doubt a intimidating face. "y/n right? i'm sunghoon, the chair for press." he asks.

"yes yes this is her! oh we've got to tell her all about press! first timer alert!" wonyoung beams, before entangling her hand with sunghoon's. there was no doubt that the two were a couple.

"ugh, okay you two cut it off! we're journalists, we gotta be professional!" minjeong argues, playfully slapping wonyoung's arm, causing her to let go of sunghoon's.

at first, you had no idea what you were stepping into. but when chair sunghoon welcomed you to press with his icy-blue eyes and quiet demeanor, the other journalists supporting each other when it came to writing their articles, you felt right at home.

it didn't feel like it, but two days of endless debates went on, countries arguing left and right, and articles written on the current hot topic. the tension was surely rising, and your fingers were tired.

you were glad it was all over.

at every post-conference social, before awards were handed out, the articles the journalists from press wrote would be released to the conference for the other delegates to read. besides their usual gossip box, the articles the press wrote were always the fuel to the fire.

one article stuck up to heeseung. it read; "secretary-general heeseung's love for crisis interferes chair jongseong's chairing process, now who's really chairing crisis?"

heeseung swore to himself that he's never seen a girl like you. so quiet yet so powerful in her writing. hearing rumors that you've only just recently transferred to decelis high. even sunghoon himself was surprised to meet a talented journalist like you, a first-timer at press.

"it was her first time?" heeseung protested, "i mean- she's so quiet and reserved, if she had been doing press for years, i wouldn't be surprised. but this is her first time?!"

"what do you mean she's quiet? look at hoon, he never says a word in comses, but look at him chairing press. and i would never mind you tagging along in crisis, you always give out good insights." jay interrupts his thoughts.

heeseung complains, "i understand that, but her innocent face says nothing to what she wrote about me!"

"her articles were critical. they were precise and to the point. there was never a single weak spot in her articles. i think she's gonna make a run for my position." sunghoon defends.

"it's just one article hee, it won't affect your entire track record anyways." jake compliments, giving him a pat on the back.

heeseung believed what jake said was true. he did have an outstanding track record. "best delegate"s here and there, one silly little article wouldn't ruin his entire reputation.

as the clock strikes seven, social night was slowly coming to a close. decelis high's third annual mun was coming to an end. all that was left was to hand out the awards.

heeseung made his secretary-general speech as usual, a couple thank you-s here and there, before he handed it over to the chairs to announce the awards.

as he was walking down the stage, he felt a couple stares from mostly the press council linger. fixing his tie, he shook it off before taking a seat in the front row.

awards were handed, from best position papers, verbal commendations, honorable mentions, most outstanding delegates, and of course, best delegates.

the press council was saved for last. sunghoon asked heeseung if he could be given more time to rethink his options for the awards, and as his best mate, he let him. in reality, sunghoon didn't need time to rethink his options. he and wonyoung knew who was going to win best journalist. sunghoon just wanted to save the best for last.

when heeseung hears sunghoon's announcement for best journalist, it clicks.

"and the press council's best journalist award goes to none other than... l/n y/n!"

cheers could be heard from across the conference room. minjeong practically jumping on you when they heard your name mentioned. you rushed to the stage with a red face and a still shocked reaction, receiving the certificate along with the medal. wonyoung gave you the biggest bear hug known to man, whilst sunghoon gave you a firm handshake.

you felt the cameras flashing at you, taking pictures from what felt like every single angle. unbeknownst to you, heeseung was glaring at you from the front row.

best journalist. best journalist? his mind was running all over the place. how could he? how could sunghoon, his best friend, let such a writer like you, who wrote a devious article about him, win best delegate?

a single glance at the other delegates of the press council only angered him more. amongst them were laughs and snickers. he swore he heard a journalist say; "looks like mister secgen is upseeet!" but decelis mun only happened once a year. he wouldn't have the need to care about you every other day.

or so he thought.

heeseung felt like you were everywhere. at every lunch break, you were always sitting across his and the boys' table, laughing at nonsense with yunjin and wonyoung. during free periods, you'd be at the library, hunched over your laptop or head deep in a book. and at mun club, you just had to be there.

he hated that you were gifted like him. he hated that his friends favored you. he hated that sunghoon would always send you to their rival school's muns to participate in their press councils. he hated that you always won. he hated that you were clouding his mind every single day.

you hadn't but uttered a single "thank you," to lee heeseung. as decelis high's secretary-general, you didn't think he'd care about you. you were just a writer. you had no strength in the debate field, no reason for lee heeseung to care. but why was he being so cold?

it started when you applied for the harvard model congress. you were ecstatic to find out you'd be attending the conference. obviously, you told minjeong and wonyoung all about it. even striking up small talk with sunghoon.

"that's amazing y/n. i mean, harvard model congress? that's big!" his tooth-rotting smile bringing a cheerful mood.

"you went from winning best journalist in schools across the state to varsity level in just a few months!" minjeong squeals, as she hugs you. you were really lucky to have such caring best friends.

laughing along in the mun club room, you could feel heeseung's glare from his desk. headphones on and focused onto his laptop screen, you felt a strange feeling resonating off of him.

heeseung was fuming. the entire club applied for harvard model congress. heeseung got in. his mates did. and of course, you also did.

it was supposed to be a three day long weekend with his mates full of debate, laughter, awards, and getting drunk on social nights. but no. you and your friends would be there too.

heeseung didn't understand why everyone was so trusting of you so easily.

even jay, was friendly with you. "well y/n, i think you're going to make a run for hee's job!"

wonyoung rolls her eyes at jay. "he should be scared. you've rose up through the ranks like jake's receeding hairline."

"hey! my hair is perfectly fine, thank you!" jake cuts, huffing at the ridiculous comment about his hair.

"yo hee! we gotta work out the letter to the school so we can get a few days off. come over here, you look like you're burning holes into your laptop!" jay chuckles, receiving a smack on the arm from jake.

a quick but surprising slam! from heeseung's laptop emitted a low echo throughout the room. followed by a ruffling of him throwing his decelis almameter over his shoulder, and another loud slam! of the mun club room's door. lee heeseung just stormed out.

"oof, what's got into him?" minjeong asks, her face contorting into an anxious look.

"i don't fucking know, he's been at it since decelis' annual mun. throwing temper tantrums left and right." jay sighs, concerned for his best friend.

"well i guess that temper is living up to my article." you suggest, letting out a huff and a subtle eyeroll.

sunghoon takes a deep breath before realization hits. "now that i think of it, he's been at it since you've joined our core team." while he points at you.

"what does that have to do with me? i didn't do shit. all i do is sit, join muns, write, and win awards for us. would he rather i'd be getting verbal commendations instead?" you sigh. you've done nothing but bring pride to decelis high's reputation.

wonyoung laughs, patting you on the back. "it's not about winning verbcom or bestdel, it's about heeseung finally finding his match."

"exactly! he's gone on and on about constantly winning at every mun. he's always complained about needing more of a challenge. and no shit he's been jealous of your achievements." minjeong pipes in.

"that's ridiculous. i don't understand crisis as much as he does, i'm just a journalist on the press council! he's basically just being an ass to me, that's all." you confessed, you and heeseung were basically on different levels. he was secgen and lover of crisis councils, whilst you were just one of the head journalists and co-editors of the press division.

"maybe he likes you? i don't know!" jake squeals, lifting his shoulders in question. jay and sunghoon gives him a slap on the shoulder each, a glaring stare between the three.

"no no, lee heeseung is a cold-hearted son of a bitch with an ego to feed every other day, there's no way he can feel shit." minjeong debates, a hint of anger in her voice.

"woah girl, what's got you mad? i get you two grew up together but that's a lot to say about heeseung." wonyoung asks her.

"i know it's a long story, but y/n deserves to know. right?" minjeong asks, waiting for you to nod to continue. "every single day of my life, i was my parents' star girl. i love my parents for supporting me. but ever since heeseung moved in next door, i was demoted from best girl in the neighborhood to second best to heeseung. ever since we were eight, heeseung didn't like to lose. to a boy he'd be a good sport. but when he lost to me in a mere storytelling competition, he'd throw a tantrum. that's heeseung to me. he's nothing but an egotistical ass who has to win everything."

you sigh, hearing minjeong’s words. "and you know what y/n?" she continues, "he's never lost it since we were 13. and you, y/n, have officially made him lose his mind. again."

this year's harvard model congress was held at seoul national university, the dream university of many korean students. the seven of you stayed at a hotel nearby, settling in.

sunghoon picks up the keycards at the check-in counter, "okay so there's three rooms in total, the girls are sharing, me and jake are in one room, which leaves heeseung and jay—"

"i'm sorry sir," the hotel staff interrupts him, "but the rooms are already divided by the hotel and cannot be changed. it says here, room 745 is for miss kim and miss yang, room 746 is for mister park, mister sim, and the other mister park— mister jongseong, and room 777 is for—"

"great. thank you. alright, let's settle in and get ready for opening night." heeseung sighs, grabbing his suitcase and your shared room's keycards before heading to the elevators. you gave the rest of the group a shaky smile before following heeseung.

the moment you two entered the lift, and as heeseung tapped the keycard and pressing the button for the seventh floor, you could feel the tension.

as the lift begins to move upwards, heeseung lets out a sigh. "look, l/n. we're sharing a room by casuality, so don't make it a big deal."

you huff shakily, "a big deal? you're the one who's been avoiding me all year! i barely disturb you and all i do is win awards for decelis. what else do you want from me?" your voice slowly getting angrier.

as heeseung opens his mouth to answer, the lift comes to a halt as its doors open, signaling that they've reached the seventh floor.

heeseung holds the lift doors open, so you can exit it with ease. you were surprised with this gesture. coming from him who could care less about your presence, you were baffled.

as you both reach at your hotel room, heeseung gave you one of the three keycards given before tapping his at the hotel room's door.

and as if your romance stories came to life, you spotted an oh-so familiar trope sitting in the middle of your hotel room. there was only one king-sized bed.

"shut the front door." you sighed, looking at the clear situation in front of you.

heeseung entered behind you, "i clearly have, what are you talking abou—"

"no dumbass, it was a metaphor. i'm talking about this." you exclaimed, pointing your finger at the bed.

"great. i'll call up room service and get this sorted—"

"no it's fine, it'll be too much of a hassle and social night is in two hours. besides, we're civil adults, and we're here for only two nights. we can bear 72 hours living through this stupid one bed trope."

"fine. just so you know i'm taking the left side."

heeseung dropped his bag near his side, as he was trying his best to keep his composure. sharing a room with you was bad enough (that's what he keeps telling himself), but a bed as well? he'd rather win verbal commendation than share a bed with you.

you were unpacking your necessities before you decided to break the ice. "heeseung just so you know—"

but before you could finish, heeseung was already out the door. before the door closed, you could hear a mere; "i'll go down for social night. you do you." and a click! of the door.

you scanned the room that was once filled with such tension, spotting your room keycard on the bedside table.

you took off your sweater and switched to something a bit classier for social night, changing to a blood red dress you had packed to match harvard's colors. minjeong and wonyoung had helped you choose it a couple days prior, the conversation reappearing in your mind.

"harvard's got nothing on you with that dress! watch out best journalist!" minjeong hypes you up as you're trying it on in the changing room.

"are you sure it's not a bit too much?" you questioned, feeling insecure in the dress.

"too much? my guess is heeseung would drop dead seeing you in that dress. after all, he is in love with you." wonyoung giggles, which earns her a slap on her arm from winter.

"just own it y/n. maybe layer it with a leather jacket if you get cold?" minjeong suggests. you look at yourself in the mirror once more. maybe this would be the turning point between you and heeseung's rivalry. maybe he'd look at you and decide that he no longer hated you and instead loved y— no. enough of those thoughts.

as you touched up your makeup from earlier this morning, you headed out to find wonyoung and minjeong waiting at the lobby.

"there you are— oh that dress looks, damn!" minjeong exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the utter shock.

"i just know heeseung's going to gape at that dre—" before wonyoung could finish her sentence, she earns a smack on her arm from minjeong. "ow minie! i don't want my arm to be black and blue at social night! which starts in... thirty minutes. we should get to campus and fill in our registrations so we're set."

opening night was a blast. harvard model congress knew how to throw a goddamn banger of a opening night.

there were so many things to see. a karaoke booth, a photobooth station, a merch station, even a snack booth filled to the brim with various snacks and drinks.

after receiving your lanyards and a couple papers where you'd find your assigned councils for the next day, you, wonyoung, and minjeong, were set to let lose one last time before you were head deep into your laptops, writing articles for the next three days.

entering the room littered with decorations and other delegates, you and the girls entered the ballroom hand in hand, in awe with the decor.

wonyoung spotted the boys immediately, already saving a table for the seven of you. the three of you walked to the table, which had name plates for all your names. wonyoung next to sunghoon, jay next to jake, minjeong on your right next to you, and heeseung on your left.

sitting at the assigned seats and listening to the opening remarks by harvard model congress' secretary-general, the food was served and you all dug in.

although this was only the first of two social nights, you and the girls had to make the best of it. from abusing the “free photobooths!” booth, and filling the room with echoes of musical ballads, your first night at harvard model congress was deemed memorable.

before you knew it, you were dragged to the back of the room, as wonyoung pulled out a small paper bag—which turns out to hold a couple bottles of liquor, you grabbed your glasses and started pouring.

you could see out of the corner of your eye—the girls downing shots of tequila (in secret, cause you didn't want to get caught), and the guys coming along to take a shot or two. but heeseung looked, tense.

jake slapped him on the back, giggling, “come on man, loosen up a bit! mun isn’t all about the awards and the roles, it’s about the memories!”

“and the friends we make along the way, am i right?” jay chimed in, with a teasing tone.

before you knew it, heeseung grabbed an entire bottle and downed what was equivalent to maybe 4 shots, wonyoung squealed, arguing the fact that it was a very expensive bottle of liquor.

“dude! that’s from my dad’s cabinet, it’s at least 500.000 won!” she argued, grabbing the bottle out of his hands.

as you tried to ignore his gaze, minjeong gave you your first shot—which you downed immediately, but it only made you feel like heeseung’s gaze was burning holes into you more.

heeseung sighed, “give me another one.” holding his hand out for someone to pour him a shot. “come on, i don’t got all day.” before sunghoon poured him another shot—which he downed immediately.

you hated the feeling of his stare. it felt, uncomfortable, but you liked it? the more he stared, the more you downed more shots. before you knew it, opening night came to a close, and you were stumbling your way down the hallway with wonyoung and minjeong, before finally finding your room. and in your drunken state, you passed out.

burning pain. your eyes couldn’t handle the bright light emitting from what seemed to be all around you. as you open your eyes, head spinning, you flopped back down onto your bed, exhausted, and with the hotel room ac, you felt frozen.

but as you get comfortable onto the bed once more, you feel a sense of warmth engulf your body. it felt welcoming. comfortable. maybe a bit too comfortable for your sake. but the warmth was soothing. it was, moving?

you shot back out of the bed, trying to rub your eyes to focus back onto the warmth, but that warmth pulled you back into its embrace. as if it needed you to survive.

as you try to recollect the events of last night, your usual 7am alarm rung. what a great way to ruin the moment.

a groan echoed from that warmth you once clung to, a familiar sound, a familiar… voice?

“l/n, what time is it?” it asked.

fuck.

"chill y/n, you'll be fine." you whisper to yourself, walking to your assigned council's room. from the rest of the journalists in your gang, you had been assigned to report on different councils. while wonyoung and winter were assigned to report on the ASEAN council, sunghoon to report on the UNHRC council, you were unfortunately assigned to the crisis council. just to your luck. your mind was still stuck in what happened this morning. you met your chairs, shuhua and beomgyu, role call was held, and your first committee session began.

while you were typing away a starting paragraph for an article, a bright face comes to greet you. "oh hello, l/n y/n right? i'm jungwon, the journalist for KBS! i sit right next to you in our council room."

"oh hello! i'm y/n, reporting for the new york times, it's nice to meet you." you smile, offering a hand out for him to shake, which he accepts.

"so, you got assigned to crisis too huh?" jungwon asks as you nod, "honestly it's one of the worse councils to report on because everything is moving... too fast." he sighs.

"i don't mind the speed, it gives me inspiration to write. but everyone has their capacities right?" you try to reason, whilst jungwon gives an agreeing nod.

not long after some small talk before you could enter crisis' council room, another boy tags along. his bright smile clearly infectious as you and jungwon couldn't help but smile at his bright appearance.

"annyeong! nice to meet you i'm sunoo!" he smiles, his blonde hair reflecting the lights in the room.

you shake his hand as a boy with blonde hair and black streaks tags along behind him before slapping the blonde’s arm, "i'm nishimura riki, you can call me riki. can’t believe i flew all the way from tokyo for this."

“yah! your writing is fine riki, your good shots will steal the show.” sunoo assures him, before looking back at you, and smiling.

riki sighs, before turning on his camera “i wanna get the redhead over there, heard he’s super good at mun or something..”

you blink as you realize riki was talking about none other than—heeseung.

"oh him? yeah he's my secgen." you tell him, the sentence floating out of your mouth. jungwon and sunoo turn to you with gaping mouths.

"wait- what? he's YOUR secgen? THE lee heeseung?" jungwon exclaims.

you furrow your eyebrows, "um, yeah? what's the big deal about him?"

sunoo's face lights up, as he prepares his words. "girl, he's the most highest ranking student in the high school mun circuit! his countless awards and times he's chaired makes him a legend. he's a literal model un weapon, even delegates with the veto powers are scared of him." he explains.

as you open your mouth to respond to his comment about heeseung, one of the chairs of the crisis council exits the room to greet you.

"ah hello journalists, you're here. i'm yeonjun, the head chair for crisis. we currently have unmod going on right now so you're just in time. we'll give you guys a couple opportunities to interview the delegates, but please be mindful." he explains.

you and the three boys smile back at him, before he opens the council room door and lets you in.

"delegates! i'd like to introduce to you all the journalists from the international press institute council, who will be observing our committee session. we have yang jungwon from KBS, kim sunoo from associated press, nishimura riki from NHK, and y/n l/n from the new york times. please treat them with the upmost respect.

a couple delegates say their greetings, and even explaining the current debate going on, as the four of you smile back at them. the crisis council was a popular council, and you can tell that from the amount of delegates in the room.

as you return your laptop back into your messenger bag and pulling out a notepad, a pen, and some sticky notes, you look back up only to lock eyes with heeseung. his gaze was deadly. you give him a slight smile, which he responds with an eyeroll.

the only thing you hated about being a journalist was the interviews. you needed to research, but having to interact with people you don't know? you'd rather kill yourself. it just happened that heeseung's stance was interesting enough for you to pass a post-it note to him, which he threw away.

so you were surprised to see him walk towards you during break, as you had thought he had rejected your interview offer.

"l/n, you wanted to interview me?" he'd asked you, no bad tone in his voice.

you looked at him surprised, kinda shocked, "umm, yeah? are you okay with that."

"i'm good. just, make it quick."

you open your notes to find your question you wanted to ask him, "um, do you mind if i record?" you asked, which he nodded. "okay, so as the delegate of colombia, what steps would you take to face the ongoing drug trade happening in your country? as a journalist, we have not seen you speak up much lately, so i'd like to know your thoughts."

"um, thank you for the interesting question, well i think—"

it was unlike him to treat you like this. unlikely for him to keep his cool. as you try to remember the words he was saying as you hold out your phone to record him, nothing was catching on. it was as if words went in one ear and out the other. 

he was so professional. the way he walks, and the way he talks—the way his lips move when he talks, the way he explains his stance—the way he’s saying the words—the way his lips move to pronounce it, oh and the way he-

“l/n? are you done? i’m wasting my precious break time here.” heeseung asks you, breaking you out of that trance.

you compose yourself, hitting the stop button on the voice recorder app, “oh yeah, sorry, i was thinking of another question to ask you—got carried away…”

heeseung rolls his eyes at you, before thanking you and scurrying away.

what had gotten into you? you’ve never seen heeseung in that way before. he’s always been just a secretary-general to you. who also happens to hate you. you think. 

but as the unmoderated caucus comes to a close, you return back to your council room, ready to write an article on heeseung’s stance. after all, you still had a day’s left worth of committee sessions, as well as a press conference held at the crisis council. 

the press council room was chiming with the clicks and clacks of keyboards, journalists writing articles left and right. you were in the middle of writing once again another filler article, as you had no idea what to write for your mandatory article. as you look through your gallery, observing pictures you took earlier for your articles, you can't help but notice heeseung in his element.

as you're typing a possible title for your mandatory article, you hear from beside you, "hey, what's going on with you and heeseung?" sunoo asks, as you turn to him in shock, as you were in the middle of writing an article.

you laughed nervously, "what? nothing's going on between us. he practically hates me." you sigh.

jungwon pulls his chair over to you, placing his laptop on your table in the process, "i don't think so. not from what i saw last night."

you gasped at what he said, "and what i saw this morning! i could practically feel the tension emitting off the two of you as you were interviewing him. i've never seen a man so intrigued before." riki chimes in.

"this morning? nothing happened, i was interviewing him on his stances and whatsoever for a possible article! that's all to it!" you defend yourself, trying to get back into your article.

"y/nie, sweetie, i've seen way too many kdramas to tell that the way he's looking at you, is a look of love~" sunoo teases, smiling as if he knew something more.

jungwon and riki laughes at your expression, which seemed to resemble a disgusting look, but underneath that, you felt a sting in your heart. not a bad sting, a good sting.

"but hey you two seemed pretty cozy last night, i wonder what that was for?" jungwon asked.

riki gasps, "hey i took a picture! wait let me find it..." as he pulled out his camera, going through the camera roll. "here! you guys were dancing together a lot, and he basically was carrying you back to your room. what, did you guys get drunk or something?"

you choked on your water, as the events of last night start piecing together. "i remember taking a couple shots, he did too, but all i remember after that is falling asleep on my bed... i assumed my friends helped me to get back but now that i think of it... they were pretty drunk too."

taking another closer look at the pictures riki happened to capture, you saw two beaming smiles, and from the looks of it, it looked like you two were having fun. you've never seen him smile this much, let alone around you. the other picture resembled like a married couple. it was as if heeseung was trying to pick you up, but by the looks of your drunken states, it wasn't really working.

"wouldn't it be really funny if you guys accidentally fucked or something? that would explain the tension!" jungwon jokes.

you shake your head, before putting your face in your hands, "no way, not in a million years. our tension is, well, our tension! it's what happens normally!" you try to defend.

"no you're right won, they totally fucked. i mean the floor you guys are on? most of the rooms have king or queen sized beds. what would you guys be doing other than that? snuggling into each other till the sunrise?" riki assumes, scoffing afterwards.

your eyes widened in shock, as if jungwon cut your brain opened and took out the events of what happened this morning. you put your head in your hands once more before beginning to cry.

riki saw your reaction, "hey i didn't mean it that way! i mean it's- um... great? if you fucked? but if not then that's like, totally okay! i mean sex isn't for everyone—"

sunoo cut him off, shooing him away, "stop making it worse, ki-yah! y/nie? will you tell us what happened?"

you sniffed, not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears, maybe it was the frustration? you grabbed a tissue to compose yourself, "i don't know... all i remember is i woke up this morning, in his arms, and i just jumped out and got ready. we didn't even talk about it. all of a sudden he's back to his old self and he's being mean to me again."

you take a deep breath, sunoo rubbing you on the back, trying to calm you down. "he's been like this ever since i transferred. i was just the new girl who was a press prodigy, that's what they called me back at decelis, and i don't know, he's hated me every since. no reason whatsoever. i've tried to win his attention by winning muns and stuff but, it doesn't matter. he looks at me as if i disappoint him."

jungwon and riki both comfort you as well, before jungwon has a strike of realization. "you know, it's not that i wanna stir up delusion in your mind, but it's quite common for guys to hate someone because they like them. what if he has a crush on you?"

riki realizes as well, "yeah what if? what if all this time he's been trying so hard to hate you because he actually likes you?"

hearing the words likes you come out of their mouths makes you shudder in fear. no way he likes you. right?

before you knew it, your chair returns to announce that press conferences are due to start soon. and up first? was the crisis council.

stepping foot into the crisis room, with the information in mind, you start to notice the tiny little characteristics that match with the fact. the fact that the lee heeseung might as well have a crush on you. as you, sunoo, and two other journalists were guided to the front of the room, your chair explaining to the crisis delegates how the press conference was going to work, before giving the floor to the journalists.

you keep your head hung, distracting yourself by re-reading the questions you’ve written on your notepad, peeking through your hair, trying to take a glimpse of heeseung.

heeseung was in his element as always, head deep in his laptop, a couple volunteers passing by to give him a post-it note, filled with scribbles of other delegates wishing to be on his side. but as per usual, his critical self crumples the notes and puts it aside to his pile of other crumpled notes.

sunoo, on your left, nudges you in the arm, trying to snap you out of it. the moment you lift your head to look at the delegates and compose yourself, you catch heeseung looking at you.

with your bloodshot eyes, your usual smile fading, heeseung can’t help but notice what happened. you were fine last break. your eyes which used to be sparkling with curiosity had been traded for puffy eyes and a fake smile.

he wanted to come up to you, wanted to ask what’s wrong. but as your chair introduced the journalists, he’d wonder if it was just an impulsive thought.

each journalist had to share 10 minutes worth of press conference time to ask questions, a tight amount of time. as the journalist on your far left begins, the clock begins to tick. being the last journalist to ask, you begin to feel worried.

but as the mic is passed to you, and mere two minutes left on the clock, you scramble to compose yourself and your questions. “this journalist would like to open the question to the floor, with the excessive drug trade impacting the economy of your countries, what is an effective solution you’d have to decrease the drug circulation, but at the same time, would not damage your economy?”

placards were raised, and amongst them, were heeseung’s. you could see the colombian flag on his placard raised high, but as the journalist of the new york times, your work came first. therefore, you chose someone else. “yes, delegate of the united states?”

the delegate of the united states stood up, and you finally saw the name on his nametag. yang jeongin. he smirked at you, sending a wink. “thank you madam journalist for the intriguing question, as the drug trade across our country begins to increase…”

as you held your hand forward holding your phone out to record his answer, continuing to talk for the next minute. it felt like a lifetime. but in the corner of your eye, you could feel his gaze burning holes. heeseung held his placard high, glaring dead straight at jeongin even if he was still speaking. but as you thank jeongin for his answer, you open the question once more to the floor.

you hear a screech of the chair as heeseung, the only one holding his placard up, stands up to answer. but you don’t discern anything he says. you just stare at him. before you knew it, the clock rang, signaling that time was up.

sunoo nudged your arm once more, trying to snap you out of it. “you okay?” he asked, worry written all over his face. you nodded to tell him you were okay.

as you were escorted out of the room to head to the hotel restaurant for lunch break, you couldn't help but feel the same feeling of heeseung's gaze at the back of your head. you ignored him, walking out with sunoo by your side.

but you were stopped briefly by someone, none other than the delegate of the united states. "hey, that was a very interesting question you asked earlier at press conference. i was wondering if you need my insight on anything? given as i'm usa and you're the new york times." jeongin suggests, his usual smirk returning from before. sunoo winked at you, before leaving the two of you alone in the hallway.

you blink at him, "oh! yeah, i was thinking about gaining insight from, well our country's side of the story. so what can you tell me?"

your notepad flips open along the click of your pen, ready to jot down his words, before out of the corner of your eye, that sharp gaze returns. the burning stare heeseung emitted was back. you gulped and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "hey, um jeongin? could we find somewhere a bit more quiet so i can record the interview? i need to make sure everything is clear because i need to submit the questions to my chairs."

jeongin smiled, "of course sweetheart, i know just the place." before he took your hand and led you away. unbeknownst to you, heeseung was fuming.

as the two of you walked away, heeseung couldn't help but wonder. what's so great about yang jeongin anyways? compared to himself, his track record was not all that. yeah he may have won most outstanding or honorable mention a couple times, but never best delegate. consecutively.

heeseung felt a tap on his shoulder, before briefly turning around. jay was standing there with a cup of coffee. he grabbed it out of his hands before immediately drinking out of it.

"that's! hot coffee..." jay protested. but to heeseung, his rage burned hotter. "what's got your panties in a twist?" jay asked, sipping his own cup of coffee.

"nothing, just pissed at a delegate. per usual." heeseung lied. as the two begun to make their way to restaurant to eat lunch.

jay chuckled, seeing his pissed face, "dude, i've known you for over eight years, you don't get pissed at a delegate for no reason. this is harvard model congress for god's sake, everyone here? they're basically professionals. mun legends. i wouldn't have afford this shit if i wasn't good at it. the awards and prizes helped fund this hobby."

heeseung sighed, "it's not just a delegate. it's someone else."

"it's y/n, isn't it?" heeseung snapped his head to glare at jay, as if he grew three heads. "chill dude, i can tell. you're painfully in love with her."

"no no no, you don't get it, she's a menace to my track record. do you remember back at decelis mun before she transferred? her article basically ruined my record the next five muns? i basically had to avoid chairing so the rumors wouldn't be deemed true." heeseung argued, reminiscing the times.

"but you'd argue she's a damn good writer, isn't she?" jay defended, "i mean no one from decelis has won consecutively aside from you. and she comes in to make the decelis name proud. aren't you glad? you're secgen after all. you're just in denial."

heeseung sighed, looking at his cup of coffee, once full, now empty. "i'm not in denial! i'm just stressed with a couple delegates in committee session, unmoderated caucus was, stressful."

entering the restaurant, their eyes landed to the corner booth, where you sat face to face with jeongin. jay turned his head to look at heeseung staring deadset at the two. "well, whatever floats your boat man, i'm gonna get some lunch. unsc might as well go to crisis next comses." jay pats him on the back, joining sunghoon, jake, wonyoung, and minjeong.

heeseung stood still. he couldn't help but wonder. is this what love feels like?

"so, yang jeongin, what can you tell me about the united states' stance on the current illegal drug trade? i assume that the country is fully aware of it happening?" you ask, pressing record on your voicenotes app.

jeongin looked around, before reaching over and pressing the stop recording button on your phone. before you could protest, "okay cut the crap, what's going on between you and lee heeseung?"

you looked at him strangely, not expecting the sudden confrontation. "well, nothing? i don't know what you want me to say, this isn't part of the interview."

jeongin dug into his food, "screw that shit, i wanna know why your secgen is all on my ass. i mean i looked at you once at comses earlier, and he looked at me like i lit an orphanage on fire."

you almost choked on your pasta, "what the hell, dude. he's just like that. he hates my guts so much he has to make me feel uncomfortable everywhere i go. i literally bring home decelis as many awards as he has in the past two years. i don't get him."

"nah, i don't think that's hate. he looked at me as if he was clyde and i was trying to steal away his bonnie. that's a look of love."

you sighed, "the thing is jeongin, he doesn't care. i've done everything to pique his attention, best journalist awards left and right, i was supposed to run for deputy secgen but he didn't let me. he said i wasn't a true decelis muner yet. i mean 8 muns in the span of a couple months? and i've never lost a single one? he probably hates me because i chose the lamest council."

jeongin swallows his food before he comes to realization, "hey weren't you the journalist who wrote on heeseung back at decelis' mun? i remember felix-hyung, my friend, that he went feral over it. he was chairing unicef, and in the chairs' room, he overheard heeseung talking about your article. how it was going to ruin his track record, or something."

"i mean, i do remember briefly. wonyoung, my chair, said i was allowed to write about the chairs or staff, even if they were filler articles. i wrote about heeseung and jay out of interest, i didn't know their history." you confessed, feeling quite bad about the outcome. "i didn't want my article to end up being gossip or shit talk, i just wrote what i wanted to."

"freedom of the press, am i right?" jeongin laughed, "speaking of the devil." signaling heeseung heading towards your table.

heeseung stood at your table. "yang. l/n." before scooting next to jeongin's side of the booth. you couldn't help but move your eyes between the two. after what sunoo and the boys told you earlier, and jeongin's confirmation that basically people could tell, you sit there in silence.

heeseung clears his throat, "well i'm not seeing much interviewing going on, delegates."

you scoffed at him, "it's none of your business heeseung. we're all delegates, it's lunch break. you don't have to boss around all the time."

"our decelis guidebook strictly confers to not confide in the enemy. and here you are, with the enemy. you know if you spill precious information regarding us we'd be dead?" he scolded you.

a laugh escaped your throat, "the enemy? jeongin is far from the enemy to me. matter of fact, heeseung, you've been more of an enemy to me rather than a secgen."

jeongin whispered, "keep it down y/n, it's okay."

you stood up in anger, "no it's not okay! i've been trying my hardest to do everything i can, i've won consecutively since my first mun at decelis, i've done everything you ask for. i've done nothing but make the decelis name proud, but i just can't happen to make you proud. what do i have to do next? i do everything and all i do is fall at second best. if you hate me so much then kick me off the goddamn team! wouldn't want me tarnishing your precious track record by having a traitor on the team, would you? all this over a stupid article i wrote months ago." you walk away from the table, returning to your room.

heeseung was speechless, the rest of the room was in awe, normally delegates would be able to stay professional. even if there was a break up or something. even wonyoung and minjeong looked at heeseung in anger, meanwhile jake, jay, and sunghoon looked at him in disappointment. jeongin stood up and left the booth, avoiding any more anger out of heeseung. "if i were you, i'd apologize. that girl has done nothing but try to please you and make you proud. start there." jeongin added before leaving.

out of habit, heeseung hung his head low in embarrassment. this was worse than the time you wrote that article about him. as he stood up to confide in the boys for advice, he spots a small leather notepad in the corner of the booth. it was yours. he'd have to find you, face you and give it back. it wouldn't hurt to read a bit of what's inside, right?

running back to your room, you couldn't dare return till next comses. the fact that an entire room full of delegates and chairs had heard you scream at heeseung's face. and returning back to the bed you woke up from this morning, limbs tangled with heeseung, didn't really help.

hiding your face in your bedsheets, tears flowing freely, you couldn't help but smell the familiar cologne he had left behind. the smell stung your nose, and made your eyes water more. the scent that once plagued you, now had lulled you to sleep.

a blurry facade appeared, the sound of heavy noise music remained muffled. your feet were cold on the hotel floor, destination? room 777. you were swaying side to side, but thankfully you were able to hold on to a pillar, which was moving with you.

"we shouldn't have drunk this much, right l/n? i'm not even sure i'm prepped for comses tomorrow morning." the pillar said.

"you have it easy, lee. you don't have to write 4 pieces worth of mandatory articles and observe other council's committee sessions." you replied, a clear slur in your voice.

it, who turned out to be heeseung, laughed, and it was like music to your ears. "i thought you journalists just copy-pasted shit off google or something, didn't get why you'd have to sit in the back of council rooms."

you scoffed at him, "well, as secretary-general, you should've known better. if only you noticed what i've been doing all this time to get your attention, maybe you would've understood."

"you think i haven't been paying attention? i've had my eyes on you ever since you wrote that silly article about me back at decelis mun. 'who's really chairing crisis?' you do know me and jay have been friends since primary, right?" he argued.

"that i know know, lee. the fact that you caused all the fuss over an article that was purely for mun, and had no ill intention is just stupid. i just wanted to be able to express myself." you confessed, feeling underestimated.

he sighed, pressing the up button on the lift, "it's not that i fussed over an article, it's that you wrote about me. i don't see many people brave enough to write about a secretary-general." before he could continue, the doors to the lift dinged and opened, allowing the two of you to walk in.

"i mean," he stuttered, clicking the number seven on the lift's buttons, "you amazed me. i've never met a person who could express themselves so much through their writing. no one paid attention to me enough to write such a critical piece about me."

you smiled at him, "so i'm special? i was the first to write about you, right?" he chuckled at your cheeky comment, "yes you're a first. i wouldn't mind if you kept writing about me."

"but why'd you hate me? i've done so much for decelis to make you proud, but you still have a way to butcher me. i just wanted to impress you." you'd sighed into his chest, the world beginning to spin.

luckily, heeseung had caught you before you fell, right on time as the lift reached the seventh floor. he basically carried you out, trying not to drop you.

"if i hated you so much, i wouldn't be helping you get back to our room, nor would i be making sure you get back safely." he assured you, holding you in his arms.

you groaned in protest, "but you do, don't you? i'm never enough for you, after everything i've done. all the things i did—"

you were shut up by his lips on yours. out of the blue, with no warning signs, he had kissed you. out of habit you kissed him back, lips molding against each other as if you had been waiting for years, as if you couldn't live without each other. all hatred you held against him dissipated. your arms crawling towards the back of his neck to pull him closer, his own pulling on your waist.

he pulled away to take a breath, but you couldn't breathe. he was your oxygen. you connected the two of you together, chasing his lips, his touch, his presence. it was the sweetness, the flavor of love and lust hanging. you’ve been craving his attention, hell, even his touch for months.

but your lungs craved oxygen, forcing you to pull away, hiding your face in his chest. as you were taking in the moment, he chuckled, "i wouldn't have done that if i hated you, would i?"

waking up with a jolt, the memories of last night came rushing in. you thanked yourself that the two of you hadn't fucked, but the idea of kissing him and liking it gave yourself insight. you wondered if heeseung remembered too.

opening your phone and seeing the time, you rushed out of your room as you were late to your next editorial meeting. it being the last committee session of the day, all you had to do was submit your mandatory articles of the day, and you'd be done. running back to your council room, knocking slightly on the door, you rushed back to your seat.

"journalist, you're late. why is that?" shuhua asked, beomgyu beside her, taking notes.

you sat down and composed yourself, "i'm sorry chairs, i slept in during break. it won't happen again."

the chairs nodded at you, letting it pass. the room discussed about how press conferences was, reminding the journalists of the upcoming deadline, but your mind was in the gutter.

you touch your lips, and you feel the lingering taste on your tongue. you were shocked out of your trance with the knocks of the chairs' gavel hitting the sound block. with only an hour left to finish your mandatory article, you begin to type.

social night was an mun tradition. after a full day of committee sessions, all councils, no matter what their council was, it gave a chance for all the delegates to mingle amongst each other.

free from the deadline of your first mandatory article, you had the whole night to party it out before tomorrow, where you had to finish your final mandatory article.

social nights usually had themes, and tonight, harvard model congress' was inspired by bridgerton, along with masquerade masks were in array. you had packed a a black dress, which belonged to your mother. she’d always tell you to save it for a special occasion, a moment you wouldn’t want to forget. and for tonight, as you miss your mom's touch, you wear your dress with pride.

walking to the venue, and right before you could even enter, you’re immediately greeted by wonyoung and minjeong. "oh my god sweets are you okay?" wonyoung asked, holding your face, clear worry in her eyes. "we heard and saw what happened at lunch, good for you to finally confront the bitch." minjeong commented, which earned her, once again, another slap on the arm by wonyoung.

you nodded at the two, holding their hands, "i'm fine, don't worry. i just needed to get it out of my system, that's all."

"to think of it, i haven't seen him since. normally when you pass by the crisis room, you'd hear his voice bouncing off the walls..." wonyoung confessed, "that's very unlike of him."

minjeong scoffs at her comment, "who cares? he's been downplaying y/n's achievements for the past couple months, i wouldn't be able to stay quiet if i were you."

you sighed at the two bickering in front of you, "guys, i just want tonight to be about us. this is harvard model congress for god's sake, i want to make the best out of it. so can we stop the heeseung talk and have some fun? please?"

the two nodded at your request, not pestering you any further. you all walk into the venue, being handed masquerade masks. the venue was decorated to the nines, and it felt like a ball straight out of bridgerton. the three of you were guided to your delegation table, which seated you, the girls, jake, and sunghoon. but heeseung? he was no where to be found.

"where's heeseung? it's not like him to miss out on social night." jake asked you.

you sat down on your assigned seat, and the seat on your right, which was supposed to occupy heeseung, was cold and empty. "why are you asking me? he hates me, remember?"

jake shrugged, "i don't know, i just reckoned that since the two of you are sharing a room, you'd know where he is."

minjeong scoffs, "who cares? y/n got ready at me and wony's room anyways, so no, we don't know where he is."

"jay said earlier today that he's been looking for him. wonder where he went. and if he found him..." sunghoon tells the table, sipping on his glass of water.

stuck in your trance, you were snapped out of it by a screeching of a chair, one, being jay, and the other was right next to you. heeseung. he was in his usual suit and tie, a couple buttons on the top were unbuttoned. you glanced at his tired eyes, hidden underneath the masquerade mask.

"dude? where've you been?" jake asked jay, slapping him on the shoulder.

jay sighed and drank a gulp of his water, "looking for this asshole over here." while pointing at heeseung, "took me a while to find him literally on the rooftop. i swear seoul uni has the most crazy hideouts. i'm not even sure i can even find my way back."

"how'd you find your way there anyways?" sunghoon asked heeseung.

he sighed, "don't know. just, found it." his demeanor slipping away as you begin to see the raw brokenness. you didn't hurt his ego that much, right?

as the clock struck seven, waiters all around the room began laying out the meals. you took a glimpse of the dinner courses in front of you, not really having an appetite for anything. but you still tried to eat, tried not to waste your food, tried to seem okay in front of him.

heeseung, on the other hand, was trying his best not to combust. sitting next to you was hard enough, but the fact you were wearing such a beautiful dress had him awestruck. he also lost his appetite. he couldn't help but stare at you.

after dinner, your friends stood up and ran over to the dance floor, and you were unfortunately dragged along. a remix of many famous hits were played, before you sang your hearts out to iris, by the goo goo dolls. you felt someone tap you on your shoulder, which to your surprise you see jeongin.

"could i have this dance?" he asked, hand out for you to grab, iris still playing in the background.

you nodded and grabbed his hand before you two danced foolishly to iris, heels discarded, his suit as well, just dancing your hearts out. but you had your limits, you were tired and excused yourself to grab some water. before you felt a nudge on your right, as heeseung leaned towards your ear. "can we talk later? don't say no just yet, just follow the green post its."

he walks away, as you look at him in confusion. feeling bad for what you said at lunch, you decide to meet him and see what he has to say.

following the pins of green post-its he left behind, you find yourself at the hidden rooftop jay was talking about at dinner. you open the door to be shocked at the view. the stars twinkling in the night sky. and stood there near the edge, was heeseung.

you broke the silence, clearing your throat, "you wanted to speak to me?"

heeseung looked at you and your dress, his mind going places. "yeah. i did. i'm not expecting an apology. i deserve it."

"but why'd you hate me so much, heeseung?" you whined at him, sick of his jokes.

"the thing is l/n, i don't!" he shouts, walking towards you, "it's not that i hate you, it's that i hate the way you make me feel. i hate the way you're so good at writing, i hate the way you win everything to make me proud, i hate the way you know my weaknesses, i hate the way you never gave up. you're on my mind every fucking day."

you walk up towards him, pulling his suit to pull him down, and him not expecting anything, you slap him across his face.

heeseung immediately pulled back, "ow! what was that for?"

"that was for not telling me about how you felt. you didn't have to bottle it up, you know?" you scoffed.

"and you didn't have to either!" he protested back, pulling out a familiar journal. your journal.

you grabbed it from his hands, "how'd you find this? i didn't even realize it was missing..."

heeseung sighed, "you know for a smart writer like you, you're very forgetful." a smile beginning to emerge.

"what did you read, heeseung? tell me." you asked, afraid that your secrets would spill out.

heeseung walked towards you, "enough to know that you're too stubborn to even tell me the truth. if you'd been feeling this way for months then you should have told me."

you gasped at him, "i would have told you about it if you weren't such a dick all the time? and then you kissing me last night just added more fuel to the fire." not realizing what you said, heeseung cupped your face, which was full of confusion.

"you remember last night?"

you blinked. "everything."

he laughed, "then you'd know i wouldn't hate you as much if i was doing this, would i?"

the familiar taste of his lips returned as he kissed you. you held onto his hands as he caressed your face. the oxygen you once craved had been fulfilled. you strung your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life. you could feel the burst of sparks just surrounding the two of you, a moment you both craved.

the wavering facade between the two finally faded, unleashing the raw desire the two of you had, rushing through your veins.

you pulled away, heeseung leaning his forehead onto yours, before he gave you his best smile. you blushed out of nervousness and proximity the two of you held, not used to this view.

"you still hate me now?" you joked, smiling at him. his eyes softened, before he laughed, and kissing you once more, not wanting to let go. and as the stars glimmered under the night sky, you forgot time ever existed. forget the committee sessions due tomorrow, it was the two of you against the world.

surely, waking up on the final day of the conference would give you a sense of peace, right? wrong. you had spent so much time last night making out and talking with heeseung that you forgot your final mandatory article was due soon. waking up from the bed the two shared, limbs tangled once more, this time, you weren't ashamed.

you kissed heeseung's forehead to wake him up, and despite heeseung's wishes to stay in and make out some more, you declined and got ready.

"can't you just stay? a bit late to the first comses of the day won't hurt your awards." heeseung groaned, asking you to return.

"i was late at yesterday's comses post-lunch, so i think i'm going to be a good girl and come early to this one." you replied, fixing your tie.

heeseung basically stood up and tried to pull you back to bed, "come on, just be my good girl. i promise you will be awarded with all of my kisses in the world."

you shook your head, "missing out on a couple kisses won't be the death of me. come on, you need to prep for comses too."

heeseung moaned in complaint, "no, i'd break my streak for you, i don't care. i just want to stay in with you, away from everybody."

you were able to crawl your way out of his touch, "nope! i'm not letting you lose your streak just over me. come on, get ready. i'm going down for breakfast."

"can i at least have a goodbye kiss before you go?" he pouted, and the way his eyes resembled bambi, you gave in.

you tried to just give him a quick peck, but his touch was so fragile and welcoming, that if you didn't stand your ground, you'd probably be pinned down till the rest of the day. but you didn't want that, so you let go of his touch, assuring him that you'd spend more time with him after the conference.

now, here you were, back in your conference room with a giddy look on your face. you couldn't help but dream of last night. even sunoo, riki, jungwon, along with wonyoung, minjeong, and sunghoon, were even surprised to see you better all of a sudden.

"okay is this some weird process girls do the cope with sadness, cause if so how do we fix her?" sunoo asked, concerned.

wonyoung was staring at you like you were beaming, "it looks like pregnancy glow."

riki basically spit out his coffee, "wait so they actually fucked?"

minjeong snapped at riki, "who fucked?"

"we had speculation that, y/n and heeseung fucked the first night, hence why she was out of it the next day..." jungwon explained to the rest.

sunghoon, the only person out of the group who happened to know heeseung the best, commented that; "no there's no way he fucked her. if they fucked, they wouldn't have been here."

"could you stop speculating that me and heeseung fucked?" you snapped at the group. not out of anger, but annoyed that you couldn't concentrate.

"sorry, but did you?" riki enquired, earning him a riki! from the group around him. "what? i just wanna know."

you sighed, standing up and packing a couple things, "who cares if we fucked or not? just leave us alone." as you head out of the council room, heading to the crisis room for some final details.

contrary to how you first felt when you walked into the room, your heart felt full of hope. that this time, heeseung wouldn't be staring at you with hatred, instead of love. you hoped you wouldn't distract him.

as you walked into the council room, you nodded at chair yeonjun, before taking a seat at the prepared seats for the journalists. you sit down, open your laptop as you're typing your final mandatory article. you tried to glimpse towards heeseung, but you were returned with the same feeling as yesterday. the sharp gaze was back. maybe it's because he's in is element? mun is important to him... you thought, and busied yourself to writing your article. since it was your final committee session, you just had to submit your article and return for the closing editorial meeting. quickly clicking submit, and the chairs deeming the final committee session over, you wanted to sneak a quick kiss before returning for your meeting.

you stood up from your seat and walked towards heeseung. he stood up and saw you, walking your way. instead of being greeted by a hug or a kiss, he brushed past you to talk to his fellow delegates. you felt a pang in your chest, the way heeseung ignored you like that. you thought everything was okay. the kisses you shared, the conversations you had. you looked back at heeseung only to see him busy talking with the other delegates, barely sparing you a glance. you left the room quickly, not looking back.

unbeknownst to you, heeseung saw you leaving, his heart barely surviving after treating you like that. you deserved better than him. he couldn't have it all.

the final editorial meeting of press councils should be a joy to you. no more deadlines, no more press conferences. but you were stuck in your head. repeating the interaction over and over in your head, you didn't understand a single thing.

after the comments and input from both the chairs and the journalists, chair shuhua decided to pull out the gossip box. you'd been informed prior about the gossip box filling at social night, but since you ran off with heeseung to make out the night away, you didn't have time to fill it in.

as shuhua and beomgyu begin to read the entries, earning laughter all around the room, a certain entry snaps you out of your trance.

"oh this is a good one! new york times from press and colombia from crisis actually fit really good together! hope the enemies finally turn into lovers! wait is this about y/n and heeseung?" chair shuhua asks, causing the whole room to look at you.

you looked at everyone strangely, "what? there's nothing."

chair beomgyu shook his head, "no no no, i don't think there's nothing. come on spill the tea, something must've happened the past three days."

everybody was waiting on your response. waiting for you to tell everyone what happened. you just wanted them to shut up. "okay well. we kissed."

the group of six who were pestering you earlier, gasped loudly. earning you a rumble of no shit's, wait actually's, and a loud jinjja?!

you couldn't help but sink back into your seat, still upset about the way he treated you earlier. "yeah, but he's treating me like shit again today, so. that's that."

the entire room aww'ed in disappointment, before the chairs read out a couple more entries, and adjourns the final editorial. you stand up to clean your table, taking out a pen to begin signing each others' placards. signing everybody else's, photo sessions were in array, and after you were finally allowed to have some free time before awarding ceremony.

awarding ceremony was one of those moments where you have hope, but at the same time you don't. you start rethinking choices you made during the conference, wondering if you made the right option. you headed your way to where the press council was sat at, where you met a couple other delegates, even bumping into jeongin, wishing each other a good luck!

you sit down between wonyoung and minjeong, which earned you an endearing hug from the two, assuring your problems with heeseung didn't matter. stuck in your head, you didn't notice the boys' absence in the room. and awarding had begun. the secretary-general of harvard model congress came up and made their speech, thanking all the delegates for participating and giving their best. chairs from other councils begin to come up to give their awards.

meanwhile, outside of the room, was heeseung cornered by jay, jake, and sunghoon.

heeseung, not caught up with the situation, looked at the three with confusion. "what did i do?"

jay scoffed, "what did you do? you managed to fuck it up again? what did i tell you?!" shaking the life out of him.

heeseung shook his head in confusion, not knowing what to do, when sunghoon came up to him, "look man, your little feud with y/n has to stop. i don't get you anymore. i thought you'd be good at this after helping me and wonyoung get together..."

"nah dude you're in denial. what do you mean you two basically confessed to not hating each other and then made out a bunch of times, only for you to leave her and ignore her like so? that's crazy." jake protested. that was the truth.

"i don't know what to tell you, but me and jake have got to get back for unsc awarding, but please think about it? i know you feel scared of this whole love thing, but i assure you, it's okay to feel this way." jay says, leaving with jake, which left sunghoon with heeseung alone.

heeseung didn't know what to do. for the first time in his life, everything was out of his control. he craved you and needed you, but he felt like he didn't deserve you. it was as if a crisis was happening in his own mind.

as he hears the cheers of the room with every award that is given out, his heart races. he hears the announcement where jay and jake both won best delegates, which they had been double delegating in.

sunghoon kept trying to comfort heeseung, not knowing what to say to him. "look, i may not understand the way your mind works, but i assure you that you deserve her. you've put yourself through it all for decelis, and the track record that we have wouldn't have been what it is now if it wasn't for you. i don't know what plan you're cooking up, but whatever it is, win her back." heeseung looks at sunghoon with sheer nervousness in his eyes. "press and crisis are left, so whatever you want to do? do it now. before its too late."

leaving heeseung alone outside the room, sunghoon walks back in, returning to where the press journalists sat. he saw you picking on your nails out of habit, nervous for the next awards. as your chairs walk up to the podium, sunghoon just hopes heeseung would do something.

as names begin getting called out, sunoo winning best pre-conference video, then riki and jungwon winning verbal commendations, wonyoung and minjeong winning honorable mentions, you held on tight to the tiny string of hope left. it was probably between you and sunghoon left. as you look around the room, heeseung is still nowhere to be found. you had hoped that maybe with this win, you'd make him proud once and for all.

"the final two journalists were a tight match. these two shown impeccable talent in their articles and presence the past three days." shuhua announces. "it is with our great pleasure that the most outstanding journalist goes to, park sunghoon!"

wonyoung, who was on the stage prior, basically screams in joy. you high five sunghoon before he winks at you, knowing you'd win best journalist. but a part of you still thinks you won't.

beomgyu gives sunghoon his award, before adjusting his mic. "this final journalist has pure talent in her writing, and have awestruck the both of us with her work. without further ado, we would like to present that the best journalist award goes to none other than... l/n y/n!"

relief. that's all what washes towards you. yes you've heard your name and the words best journalist go along too often, but every time it happens, it always feels euphoric. as you walk up the stage to receive your award, earning smiles from the other awardees, you couldn't help but look to the crowd.

you see jay and jake basically jumping up and down in joy, but heeseung was still nowhere to be found. a pang of disappointment burns in your chest as you walk down the podium with your certificate in hand. an array of congratulations! are heard, as you sit back down for the final awarding. crisis.

zoning out, after feeling the euphoria of your win, your mind drifts off to heeseung. how would he feel? was he proud?

as chair yeonjun announces the awardees, you are cut out of your trance with every round of applause. you see jeongin win most outstanding, and you cheer for him.

as yeonjun clears his throat for the final award, he begins his speech. "this final award goes to a delegate who really deserves it all. although this mun may have not been his best run, he deserves so much more than the title: prodigy. i'd like to present this best delegate award to none other than... you know what? lee heeseung get up here, get your award, and get your girl!"

with pure shock, you watch as heeseung bursts through the doors, run up to the podium, quickly shake his chairs' hands, grabs his certificate, and runs down. and he's running to you.

he drops his certificate on the floor, before engulfing you in the biggest hug he's ever given in his life. spinning you around, you squeal in excitement. he whispers in your ear an array of i'm so proud of you's, before putting you down, and kissing you in front of everyone.

you cling onto him, parting your lips allowing him to kiss you deeper and deeper, and the feeling of sparks flying around you made it feel like it would last forever. your ears muffle all the cheers surrounding you, only focusing on heeseung, and heeseung only.

he puts you down and rests his forehead on yours, exactly like how he did on the rooftop the night before. "how'd you pull this off?" you ask him, still on cloud nine.

"eh, had some help from chair yeonjun. didn't expect the bestdel though." heeseung laughs, holding you by the waist, tighter, and tighter.

you held his face closer, wanting to feel his touch, "why'd you do that? why'd you run?"

"y/n. i love you. i never knew how to say it all this time, because it's a feeling unlike any other. to the point it made me feel as if my life was in crisis. but that's when i realized i never had it all. not until i found you."

taglist; @riekiss @sesameoil721 @desistay @capri-cuntz @beomluvrr @shawnyle @tya0 @heexoolio @sunghoonsgff @spiderhanzzz (crossed out = i can't tag you)

back to my masterlist?

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction.

© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA # 35

Who will he be tonight? that’s the question.

Imagine dis…

It's been a while since I last posted here and even though I am late on the trend the song would not leave my head ( due to my gremlin of siblings) and you are now here to suffer with me.

MWAHAHAHAHA

…

Bruce was stressed, not because of his nightly duties nor his exhausting job as the CEO of Wayne enterprise. He got his license to foster children by the skin of his teeth through legal channels, he was so close as to use his privileges as the richest man in Gotham to get his license also to be able to foster Richard “Dick” Grayson.

Apparently despite his playboy persona aka “Brucie Wayne” just entering its social debut almost made him almost impossible to foster Dick as the social worker that had been assigned to him is also one of the few social workers in Gotham that takes their job seriously.

Bruce knew that his budding playboy persona, the carefree “BRUCIE Wayne” should be buried, he could replace this mask of his with his philanthropist self but he couldn’t just immediately change it would and will raise whispers on why, but what could be the reason?

Just as he continued scheming a knock broke his train of thoughts and entered Danny Nightgale, the calm and efficient secretary who had worked before with Lucius Fox ever since he had been hired. Danny, from Bruce’s file on him, son of two leading ecto-biologists in the world, a quiet kid who grew up in a city from nowhere, had a bad accident that left him with a slow heartbeat, discovered that one of the last two purple back gorilla is female and thus avoiding total extinction. Doesn’t have much media presence due to their hometown being the home of the former ghost hero Phantom who had vanished the moment that the anti-ecto acts had been re-appealed…

…

Bruce approached Danny with a pitch and handed him a nicely drafted contract. The agreement was straightforward: pretend to be Bruce's adoring partner in public. It was the only way to change the public's opinion, to show the world a stable, dependable, responsible Bruce Wayne who was ready to be a foster and maybe a father.

…

As years went by this arrangement had been beneficial to both parties.

Danny now saves more money, and despite having one of the highest salaries being paid all went to his rent to the nicer parts of Gotham. It had so many insurances as well security measures to ensure the tenants are safe, but the downside having most of his paycheck going to the rent itself. Now he has a permanent house that is large and free food that is made by the greatest cook that ever existed.

Bruce is less embarrassed about putting on a show for the public, he seems to take on the air-head mask whenever his supposed “lover” is around and near him, turning him into a bumbling mess whenever the “love of his life” is around him. He also secretly took great pleasure whenever those annoying journalists asked nonsense questions which he answered in his most obnoxious voice spiel away how world peace is attainable if all just gave their own Danny’s.

…

Each generation of Batkids saw how Bruce had a crush on Danny yet kept fumbling himself and reminding himself that all of this was just part of the contract. Sure each kid knew of said contract that was made for Dick’s sake but said the reason for said contract wanted to rip that thing ages ago and into pieces the moment he wanted to call Danny Dad.

Though each child that resides in that manor noticed some inconsistency within Danny’s schedules, not only that they have just recently discovered that while Danny loves to chat there are still personal things that he hadn't delved into aside from the information that was already in his files. Of course, there is also his weird avoidance of the vigilante group of Gotham, especially Batman, despite being proven to the public both in and out of Gotham that Batman is trustworthy, Danny still held wariness to said vigilante.

You’d think that after years of exposure around the Wayne’s Danny would have already discovered the cave all on his own. But it seems that every time are inches away discovering their secret an emergency or urgent priority was flaring from the Wayne enterprise that only he was needed to solve the said problem.

After weeks of Tim’s continuous intake of a very worrying amount of pure caffeine, espresso shots, and 10 different brands of energy drinks they have finally connected the dots.

Danny is a secret FBI agent planted in Gotham to catch Batman and his group in the act of breaking the law and to disband the whole spiel about being a hero and vigilante. Sure the JL and the sudden rise of heroes and vigilantes that popped up around the world that are not government affiliated made those who sat at those red velvet chairs nervous as they don’t have any active say or word as to what crimes to focus on and so on. There are reasons why Amanda Waller is still in power and still allowed to roam free with funds after funds to continue her work despite being continuously caught by the JL.

Now it is up to them to change Danny’s mind and abandon his mission so that they can finally stop seeing Bruce act like that “Brucie” persona, that they thanked the gods had been immediately vetoed, towards Danny.

…

Alfred sits down in one of the manor’s libraries with a cup of tea in one hand a book in another with another small pile on the side with a teapot ready to refill himself another cup.

He sighs at the drama that seems to unfold to his eyes only.

Ever since Master Danny had been integrated into this household he had found more free time than he could ever imagine. The young man would always find ways to outpace Alfred when it comes to housework to the point it had become their little game to this day. As much as he supports his ward/son, Master Bruce needs to gather all emotional intelligence he has left and confess to Master Danny.

But that wasn’t the live soap opera that it seemed to unravel.

His grandkids are set and believe that Master Danny is a secret agent who is here due to a mission related to the vigilante group stationed in Gotham.

Alfred adores all of them, he did but sometimes he wonders if the title World’s Greatest Detective is to be added to his arsenal of titles.

Alfred knew that Master Danny wasn’t just an ordinary secretary but he was also the Ghost King of the Infinite Realms, how did he know of this?

He simply walked in on Danny changing from his human self to that otherworldly creature that looked too regal to be a normal being, and so clues that were the littlest of things that he had always chalked up to the angle of the light seemed to begin clicking in place.

Alfred was a bit miffed when he learned that Master Danny might have been cheating when it came to their little bouts of cleaning the manor but he now stayed quiet as Master Danny still didn’t know of the quote “furry brigade” unquote are the Wayne’s, and based on Master Danny’s past rants he will have his little laugh when the truth comes out, but until then he will drink his tea in peace as the drama in Wayne manor seems to unfold.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

[02zhoonie]

i testify this lovin’

18+ MDNI !!

guitarist! park jongseong (jay) x fem! reader smut

(can be read as idol!jay too)

you watch your boyfriend play the electric guitar. he’s hot. antics ensue.

cw: fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, semi (?) public sex (they’re in a soundproof music studio in a company building do with that what you will), slight sub!reader/dom!jay

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble i don’t know how this became longer than that. how dare jongseong drop that tiktok video on us on a random tuesday morning does he know his effect??? shout out to my love @fakeuwus for inspiring me and also fueling my delusional tendencies ?? i feel insane. anyway please do enjoy this !!

NOT PROOFREAD

your boyfriend jongseong was practicing on his new electric guitar for the past hour and though you enjoyed the music he played, you couldn’t help but start to get restless. it was getting stuffy in the small studio he had in his company’s building and it also didn’t help that he looked incredibly attractive like this. he is handsome on a daily basis - something you find yourself having to indoctrinate in him whenever his self doubt comes into play, but there was just something about him being so fixated on playing the guitar that made you so… horny

maybe it was the way a pout was formed on his lips as he usually did when he concentrated hard on doing something. or the way his thighs were spread to accommodate the length and size of the guitar. his outfit choice today was simple but his hair being unstyled and bare face just added to the appeal. and it was definitely the way his skillful fingers plucked and strummed on the strings as the sound filled the room. even the song that he chose to focus on seemed to be suggestive as well. you couldn’t help but to squirm while imagining all the things you wanted to do with him in this very moment. so much so that you didn’t realise that the song had stopped playing on loop and your boyfriend was trying to get your attention.

“baby? are you with me?” jongseong let out a soft chuckle after you finally noticed that he was taking a break. you nod slowly after snapping out of your daydreams, cheeks getting warm as you register what you’d just been doing. hopefully your boyfriend wouldn’t have been able to tell.

“tired?”

“no jjongie, just got distracted for a moment.”

“ah,” a smirk graces his lips. shit. “c’mere then, i wanna teach you something.”

he pats on his lap invitingly, and you can’t help but oblige, getting up from your spot on the sofa to join him where he was sitting, not before taking a quick sneak at his thick thighs. you make yourself comfortable between his legs, leaning back against the warmth of his chest. after pecking the top of your head, jongseong adjusts his guitar and brings your smaller hands to clutch the fret board.

“gonna teach you how to play a chord ‘mkay” he utters from behind you and feeling his hot breath against the nape of your neck. you feel the stickiness start to gather between your thighs as he does something as simple as gently moving your fingers to press down on the strings. it’s quite embarrassing to admit how worked up you’re getting by his actions, his other arm looping around your waist to keep the base of the guitar steady.

“relax, baby,” he laughs at you again, “your fingers are so stiff.”

“there’s a reason why i don’t play instruments, jay.” you roll your eyes though he can’t see, trying to deflect away from the fact that really your awkwardness stems from his presence overwhelming all of your senses at this very moment and you could barely focus on holding your hands still much less relaxing them. jongseong steals a quick kiss against your cheek, muttering a short apology knowing you were getting tired of his teasing, and continues on to properly explain what he was teaching you in detail.

“so this is a g chord,” he says after placing your fingers in an almost triangle like shape across the board. “it’s one of the most basic chords and almost every pop song has at least one in it.”

“can you hold it there for me baby?” your boyfriend asks before removing his hand from your wrist and placing it on your thigh instead, dangerously close to where your panties were slick with your wetness. his hand that was previously around your waist, moves to the bridge of his guitar and strums once. “and it sounds like this.”

“did i hold it right?”

“yes, you did so good for me baby. that’s my girl.” he moves in to place an open-mouthed kiss against your neck and that’s when you know it’s game over. he knows.

“mmm, jjongie!” you squeal as he moves down to suck on that sweet spot between where your neck ends and your shoulder begins. your cunt clenches and you pray to every god out there that your panties are not drenched through to the leather seat cover.

“wanna tell me what you were so distracted by, baby?” slowly manoeuvring the guitar away from the two of you and safely onto the stand, one of his hands crawls up your torso to play with your nipple through the fabric of your t-shirt, drawing circles around them and sending tingles straight down your spine. your voice is strained as you are barely able to force out a response, his lips traveling down to your clavicle as he paws at your shirt collar.

“your lips” you let out a gasp as both his hands now have found their way under your shirt and grab at your boobs.

“mhmm.”

“your thighs” he pulls you ever so close to him, his large hard bulge pressing against the small of your back.

“‘s that all baby? you know, you were staring so hard.”

“your h-hands,” you stutter as he sucks harder on your neck, pulling the flesh between his teeth to leave a pretty purple mark there. he hums in satisfaction at your answer as his fingers trail down to the waistband of your sweatpants but pausing before going any further down. a whine leaves your lips at this.

“what about my hands baby?” he inquires with a curious lilt to his tone, though he already has an inkling of what you would say.

“looked like they would make me feel so good” you admit, biting down hard on your bottom lip. feeling yourself grow impatient as your boyfriend continues to drag out his teasing even more, you pull him by the wrist and all but shove his hand down your pants. “please jjongie, if you don’t touch me now, i feel like i’m going to explode.”

as the wetness that has pooled at your cunt reaches his fingertips, you just know that there’s a smug look on his face as he realises his effect on you. beginning to toy with your clit using his thumb, his index sweeps up and down your folds almost slipping in your entrance.

“all i did was play the guitar but my baby’s already this wet and needy for me.” oh he definitely has that smug look on his face.

without warning his finger plunges into you and the squelching noise echoes as he expertly moves it in and out of you. you mewl loudly after finally finally getting the contact you so desperately craved but cut yourself after remembering where you were.

“it’s okay, make all the noise you want, these walls are soundproof.” jongseong assures you as he realises you were muffling yourself. “i wanna hear you, pretty.”

soon enough he adds another finger into the mix, pushing deeper within your walls, easily finding the spot that makes your back arch and moan his name repeatedly. there was something so confident and assured about the way he was fingering you that sent you to seventh heaven. normally he was good, knowing all your pleasure points and hitting them just right but this was good. as if the ego boost from you had allowed him to push into you deeper and stronger. you feel your high start to approach at an embarrassingly fast pace and he knows it too with the way your pussy starts gripping his fingers like crazy, bending the tips of them to press against the most sensitive parts.

“‘m so close, jjongie.”

“i know baby, can you take one more? wanna stretch you out some more.”

you let out a noise of approval, too blissed out to gather a proper response as he presses his third finger into you, giving your walls a delicious stretch. the feeling of being so full of his fingers makes you cry out and jongseong has his lips against your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed and little pants falling out of his mouth as he tries so intensely to bring you to your high.

“cum on my fingers baby, i wanna see you make a mess on them”

and with that your orgasm washes over you, collapsing against his chest with heavy breaths as he lets you calm down a bit in his arms, before pulling his fingers out and adjusting you so that you are now straddling his lap. his hand is coated in your arousal as he brings them to his lips and licks them clean. there’s also a damp patch on your sweatpants as well as on his loose jeans where you came. holding his jaw in your hands, you join his lips messily with yours, giving him a long wet kiss, not caring that you can taste your juices on his lips and he lets out a (cute) noise of surprise.

“so. they lived up to your expectations then?” he asks with a quiet laugh after you separate, but it was more of a statement than a question at this point. you let out another miffed whine at his words burying your head in his neck and steadily grinding against the bulge in his pants.

“just shut up and fuck me already.” you demand, losing all sense of politeness in your tone as your patience and neediness for his cock overrides everything else.

“what happened to my sweet, shy princess who got horny just from watching me play my electric?” he starts to hook his arms under your thighs and carry you over to the couch. “has she lost all her manners? wants me to just fuck her here in my studio?” he attempts to sound stern but he can’t keep the amusement out of his voice. if he knew this would have had that much of an effect on you, he would have invited you over to watch him play a long time ago.

“sorry jjongie, just fed up of waiting.” you pout as he lays your back gently on the cushions, pulling your sweats and panties off in one motion. undoing the button of his jeans and finally being able to release his cock out from his boxers, the tip red and pulsing, he climbs his way so that he’s hovering over you on the sofa, grabbing one of your legs and wrapping it around his hips.

“it’s okay baby, i’ve always dreamed of taking you on this couch.” he has the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he says this, recalling the lonely late nights in this room that he spent finishing up his work. now having you laid out beneath him, it was almost like he was fulfilling one of his biggest fantasies. he lines up his cock at your entrance, looking back at you for your go ahead. 

“take me then” 

you didn’t have to tell him twice. 

jongseong presses into you, letting out a loud groan as your walls basically swallow his cock whole. it takes a little while for you to adjust to his size though having been fucked by him many times, he’s still the biggest you have ever had and it drives you crazy how full he makes you feel. 

“fucked my fingers into you and you’re still so tight for me?” he grunts when he’s able to push all the way into you, touching that crevice behind your cervix that has you clawing his back. “god, you’re a fucking dream.” 

you tap on his shoulder as a sign for him to start moving and your boyfriend begins pounding you into the sofa cushions with no mercy. incoherent babbles were the only things leaving your mouth. your little ah’s and um’s and calls of his name, only drove him to go deeper with his thrusts. 

he gets down on his elbows to steal your breath away with a kiss, body moving rhythmically to fulfill your needs. there’s not enough words in your vernacular to describe the pleasure that comes from the repeated ramming of his dick into all the right places in your pussy. 

“wan’ more” you finally muster after so long of being breathless, “wan’ you deeper jjongie, please” 

it’s in the way he immediately proceeds to put your legs over his shoulders and practically folds you into half, that you know you don’t have to say much for him to know and do exactly as you want. (and that’s princess treatment from park jongseong for you.) his eyes are half-lidded as he continues his motions and it’s a sight to behold, the beads of sweat running down his temple, glistening against his tanned skin. 

“love it when you give me your body like this” he murmurs between breaths as they grow heavier with his physical exertion. “mine to hold, mine to fuck and mine to fill with my cum”

“mmm, please” you beg at his words, the idea of white cum spilling down your thighs making your eyes roll back in excitement. 

“please, what baby? fill you up?” 

you nod your head so violently, jongseong is starting to get afraid you’d get vertigo from it. with a hand on one of your ankles and the other supporting his weight, he starts plunging in you harder, gritting his teeth as your walls tighten around his cock and the pleasure becomes immeasurable.

“i will baby, i'll fill you up so good i promise. you just gotta be a good girl and come with me, okay” 

“i will jjongie, i’ll be good for you.” 

that’s enough for him to release his load into you, and as the first spurt of warm cum starts to fill you up and his thrusts become more sporadic, you reach your second high of the night, squeezing his cock for every last drop. 

after gently removing your legs from his shoulders, your boyfriend collapses against you, not wanting to pull out just yet, the two of you squashed in that sofa. he plays with strands of your hair, smiling as the two of you catch your breaths. 

“so,” he says after a beat, “you think guitar players are sexy huh?” 

“JONGSEONG!” you yell, the warmth returning to your cheeks as you try and inevitably fail to hide your face away from him. 

“nothing to be shy about baby, i’ll just make a mental note for later.”

[fear-is-truth]

ALL PART OF HIS PLAN

kai anderson x f! reader￨nsfw. mdni￨wc: 2.4 k

w a r n i n g s – mdni !! porn with plot. oral sex (m receiving). unprotected p in v. dacryphilia. breeding kink (if you squint). english is not my first language. not proofread as usual

summary — mornings spent with kai weren’t always as mundane as it might seem

a/n – this took forever to complete cos every time i open this draft, i spend a good five minutes laughing at the cursed gif and the writing mood is completely ruined.

requested by: @ellaaaaa44

ೃ࿐ .

You woke up when the birds started chirping outside, just as the soft light of dawn filtered through the bedroom windows. Kai was still asleep next to you, his electric blue hair spilling across the white pillow like a halo. You were facing each other, his arm thrown over your waist. Carefully, you inched from under his arm and sat up, feeling the remnants of sleep clinging to your eyes. In the morning stillness, he almost looked innocent, pure, even. But you knew better— Kai Anderson was anything but pure.

Glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table, its red numbers glowing 06:57. It was Saturday, which meant Kai had a political rally scheduled at 10. As his girlfriend, you were expected to accompany him, not just as a supportive partner, but also to adorn his arm and enhance his appeal to the masses.

But Kai was smart. He had made sure the public knew more about you than just your looks. He had purposely made it known that you were well-educated, and a feminist, no less.

At first, you were skeptical about the whole idea, doubting that the media would find interest in speculating about the personal life of a politician. But, as always, Kai proved you wrong—which irked you to no end. The shallow nature of society never failed to disappoint.

The public adored the two of you, seeing you as an ambitious and attractive power couple, and the media lapped it up like hungry dogs. They also conveniently turned a blind eye to some of the more “controversial” political views of Councilman Anderson, choosing instead to focus on the carefully choreographed public displays of affection meant for the cameras—holding hands, stolen chaste kisses that you pretended to think no one was looking. Tabloid rumors ran rampant about your alleged engagement and the potential of a baby on the way, both of which were far from true, thank the fuck Christ.

That, and a couple of satanic killings that involved clowns, Kai had made significant progress in garnering supporters in a remarkably short period of time.

All part of his plan.

You had to admit, despite the circumstances, you and Kai did make quite a nice couple. There was no denying that the sex was mind-blowing and he had world-class cock that had never failed to make you come undone.

Kai was a pretty considerate lover as well, after you admitted your fear of pregnancy during “pinky power”, surprisingly, he didn’t even get mad or punish you, as expected. He told you that he respected your feelings and prioritized your health above his own preferences. Even though he openly expressed his disdain for wearing condoms, Kai stayed true to his word and wore one every time you asked him to, sparing you the stress.

But Kai had made you a promise that once he secured his position in the Senate, he would put a ring on your finger and you’d be the mother of his “messiah baby”. He made it sound like an honor, and you supposed that, in a twisted, fucked-up way, it was— you’d say yes, because it’s always yes for Kai. Even so, as much as you loved him (was it love? Or something stemming from Stockholm Syndrome, you weren’t entirely sure), the idea of bringing a child into the world still scared you shitless.

But again, you didn’t feel you had a say or a choice in the matter. Kai had rescued you from your lowest points, and for that, you were indebted to him for life.

Enough of that. That was phase two of the plan. Focus on the present.

Big day ahead, don’t fuck this up. All you have to do right now is pretty yourself up and smile, smile, smile for the cameras.

With a sigh, you slipped out of the warmth of the covers, careful not to disturb him. You tiptoed across the carpeted floor and into the en suite, closing the door gently behind you.

Yawning, you began to strip off your sleep clothes—starting with a comfortable T-shirt and booty shorts, followed by your bra and panties—tossing them haphazardly into the laundry basket. Then you stepped into the shower, the sound of rushing water filling your ears as you twisted the knob. You closed your eyes and tilted your face upward, feeling the cool spray hit your skin.

You didn't hear the sound of the bathroom door opening, nor the shuffle of clothes hitting the floor. Suddenly, the sliding glass door slid open, and your eyes snapped open in surprise, a yelp escaping your lips.

Kai stood there, undressed. His hair was a tousled mess. He blinked, his gaze sweeping over your naked form with an unimpressed expression.

He even had the audacity to look a bit offended and disgruntled, as if he wasn't the one barging in on your shower.

“Move over,” he grunted, his voice husky with sleep but his tone left no room for argument. You quickly shuffled to the side, making room for him under the spray.

Kai reached past you and turned the water knob to blast hot water, steam billowing around you as the temperature rose. His hair was slicked back by the water, the vibrant blue adding a splash of colour to the monochrome backdrop of black tiles. Head tilted back, his eyes were closed in blissful rapture as warm droplets of shower spray hit his face.

Your gaze wandered from his features to over his torso, taking in the sight in awe.

Kai looked beautiful. godly, even.

Starting from the clavicle of his neck, glistening rivulets of water meandered down, following the chiseled lines of his biceps and the breadth of his toned chest. Continuing their descent, they danced across his abs, taut and sculpted, rippling waves of raw, masculine strength that seemed to beckon you closer; drawing your eyes inexorably downward until they finally converged at the V-line of his lower abdomen.

Without as much as a glance in your direction, Kai reached for the bottle of 3-in-1 men’s shampoo sitting on the wall shelf.

“Like what you see?”

he poured some shampoo onto his palm. His tone was casual but you could sense the smugness. Heat flooded your cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the steam from the shower. Biting your bottom lip, you nodded bashfully.

“Mhm,” he hummed, fingers raking through his damp, blue locks as he pretended to consider.

“Work for it then. Get on your knees,”

You immediately sank to your knees, wrapping your fingers around the base of his shaft before pressing a kiss on the tip. He raised an eyebrow.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing,”

You smiled sweetly up at him before taking the tip between your lips, collecting the precum and swallowing it with a cheerful hum. Starting with kitten licks, you slowly dragged your tongue up the veiny underside of his cock.

“Fuck…” he hissed through his teeth,

“Attagirl– You’re so good at this…”

The heartfelt praise had a greater effect on you than his usual dirty talk ever could, encouraging you to hollow your cheeks with extra gusto, making sure to give a swirl of your tongue every time you reached the tip.

The groan that came from him seemed to validate his approval. Reaching down, Kai threaded his fingers through your hair into a makeshift ponytail to dictate your motion, bucking his hips into your mouth. Even as your eyes watered, you didn’t pull away as he continued to fuck your mouth. Instead, you peered up at him through your eyelashes and occasionally moaned so that he could know how much you appreciated pleasing him.

It wasn’t long until Kai gave your hair a small tug, and slid out with a small pop. He wasted no time snatching you by the underarms and pulling you to your feet.

His eyes raked over your body as if he was seeing you for the first time. One large, calloused hand trailed from your cheek, down to your neck, then to your arm and waist.

Bending down slightly, his hands continued to trace the smooth skin of your thighs, gently securing behind the bend of your knees. Before you could fully register what was happening, Kai was lifting you up effortlessly from the ground as if you weighed nothing at all. You squealed in surprise as he hoisted you up, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for support.

You gazed into his dark eyes to find that the sleep-induced glaze from earlier was now replaced by intense focus and determination. He meant business.

“Stay still, I wanna try something,”

Holding firmly onto your waist, Kai settled you against his hipbones, pausing for a moment to let you wrap your legs eagerly around his waist.

With the shower water cascading above you, it reminded you of the iconic kiss-in-the-rain scene from “The Notebook,” which you had watched together in bed just last week. Well, technically, you were the only one watching; Kai had been either scrolling through his phone or looking irritated the entire time.

Maybe this was just pure coincidence and wishful thinking on your part, or could it possibly be that he was trying to recreate that moment– impossible… right?

The subtle smirk curling his lips and the slight crease of his eyes confirmed your suspicions. So he had listened to your rambles on how hot Ryan Gosling looked. “Kiss me, please,” you begged, and he graciously obliged, claiming your lips in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. You moaned and tangled your fingers into his hair when you felt his tongue slip past your teeth.

Pressing your back against the tiled wall, he positioned himself at your entrance, so that the tip of his cock was spreading your lips open. Then he pulled back from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both.

Maintaining eye contact, he sank his cock into your awaiting warmth. Your eyes widened and a little “ooh-” tumbled out of your mouth at the sensation of him filling and stretching you.

A small voice in the back of your head warned of the potential consequences—a slip, a fall, and the possibility of ending up in the hospital with a concussion or a bruised tailbone. However, any lingering inhibitions melted away in a heartbeat as Kai angled his thrusts in just the right way, hitting just the right spot that made you see stars.

“Whoa, this angle is– fucking amazing…”

Kai muttered between grunts as he continued to slam into you, rocking your entire body with each of his thrusts. It didn’t take long before the tightened coil inside you snapped completely; your pussy giving one final squeeze before you screamed out your release.

“Nuh-uh, princess. I’m not done with you yet,”

He spun you around, forcing you against the shower wall. You yelped in surprise and instinctively flattened your palms to steady yourself. Gripping your hips firmly to keep you in place, Kai sheathed himself inside you in one swift, brutal stroke.

“Ack- Kai!” you squealed as your cheek was pressed against the wall with a wet smack, feeling your breasts flatten against the cool surface. Your fingernails scrabbled against the slippery tiles, desperately searching for purchase as Kai reared back his hips. You let out a loud wail when he thrust back into you, setting a harsh, punishing pace. His pelvis slamming into your ass with such force that the supple flesh rippled with each thrust.

“Ah f-fuck… mghmm—” your vision was blurry with tears as he bottomed out once again, pressing himself so deep that you could feel every ridge and vein, every delicious throb and twitch—his eagerness to pump you full of his come but also to make you suffer just a little bit for his pleasure.

“Hah- you just love it when I fuck you into my perfect little brain-dead slut, don’t you?”

He grunted, his thrusts becoming progressively sloppier but somehow still maintaining the same pace. Whining pathetically, you wiggled your hips, allowing your cunt to swallow his cock deeper. Lewd schlick shlick noises ricocheted off the walls, dulled by the sound of your moans and pattering water.

“Look at me, little lamb,”

You peered over your shoulder, shiny, fat drops of tears decorating your eyelashes. He smiled fondly at you before pressing a tender kiss on your temple.

“You look so pretty when you cry,”

Kai’s hand brushed past your mound, fingers slipping between your thighs and started stroking; deceptively gentle caresses at the sensitive bundle of nerves until your entire body started to tremble. The hot coil in your belly was now impossibly tight.

“Puh-please please please Kai ‘m gonna c-”

“Go ahead,”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Kai groaned, his head falling to rest on your shoulder, his sloppy thrusts coming to a decrescendo.

“Make a mess on my cock. There you go baby- ahh fuck– yeah just like that,”

Kai buried himself deep inside you and you felt the warmth flooding your insides. He thrust lazily into you for a few more times for good measure, and you could feel his cock continuing to throb and spasm as he buried his come as deep as he could.

When the residual spasms finally waned, he pulled out, your combined release seeping out between your thighs and splattering onto the floor. You shivered from the loss of contact. He smirked, nipped playfully at your earlobe.

“What a way to start a morning, hm?”

…

After the hot water had finally run out and you both had cleaned yourselves, you sighed contentedly as you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel. Despite the soreness between your thighs, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied. This had to be one of the best sex you ever had in your life.

Then, reality came crashing back as you remembered the potential consequences of your reckless actions.

“Kai! You didn’t pull out!” you squeaked, the pitch of your voice raising with panic. You weren’t on birth control either, since Kai was paranoid about side effects.

Kai, still tying his blue hair into a bun in front of the bathroom mirror, turned and looked at you. “The senate election is in the bag. Might as well start trying for a baby now,” he said coolly.

Phase two was already in motion, without you even knowing it.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[allsadnshit]

I never believed being super invested in identity politics had any repercussion till this year - and since taking a huge step back from so many labels I put on myself I've felt so much better. Deleted my endometriosis highlight story to stop making my life about illness. Stopped peppering in my sexuality onto anything autobiographical to try and signal for community. Just started thinking about what I like and what feels good and less about needing to tell a story about who I am through what categories I belong in and I feel like so much irritability and stress has melted away!

I think self exploration and expression are so cool and beautiful and don't need to become something for other people to understand us through in such a specific and controlling way. I feel like it can be so taxing to constantly try to stay within a narrative or appeal to people you think are similar to you or should be.

The world already forces us to be identified in so many categories against our will and to start doing that to ourselves as a way to resolve it is like tossing more kindling into the same fire and expecting a change. It's still an energy suck no matter how you slice it!

Even though so many people seem to find what they are looking for or want to be within identity politics and making it their public facing self - I am glad I have turned a corner about it and stopped trying to control how people see or refer to me after a lifetime of trying to force it

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 3rd

Day 3: Sixty-nine // Public Sex // Pet Play

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy/post partum baby body, new mom!reader, slight voyeurism, horny Frankie, face sitting, oral (male and female receiving), mentions of anilingus, cum swallowing

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Fuck baby, c’mere.” You can hear the lust dripping from his voice, making you smirk slightly, the ego boost is something that you need right now when you haven’t been feeling the sexiest. Motherhood sometimes takes it out of you. Instead of lingerie, you live in leggings and faded Army t-shirts that are riddled with spit up stains. You turn around to see Frankie on the bed, naked and completely hard for you, his dark eyes greedily drinking in your own nude body. 

You hadn’t expected him to be in the bedroom when you got out of the shower, but it’s obvious he’s been waiting on you. Waiting and anticipating. You bite your lip, eyes sliding down the slightly less in shape physique of your husband. Despite his own hang ups, he’s only grown sexier in your eyes, through the best shape of his life in the military to the now softer build. He’s still strong, still capable and that makes him even more appealing. 

“I take it you want something?” You tease, eyeing his cock as it twitches. He’s always been able to make you laugh or moan by flexing his cock when he’s hard. 

“I want you to come sit on my face.” He snorts, patting his cheek and smirking at you. “Then if you want, you can sit on my cock.” 

It’s a tempting offer, but you shake your head. “If you’re licking my pussy, then I want to be sucking your cock.” You counter, making the momentary frown when you shake your head immediately turn into a quick nod and a beaming grin. “Deal.” He grunts, pushing down the bed so that you can get into position. 

His hands are greedy, pulling you back and making you gasp and giggle when you nearly fall flat on your face when he throws you off balance. Making you slap his thigh and huff as you look over your shoulder, halfway across his body. “You ass.” You huff, making him chuckle. 

“No, your ass.” He groans, reaching for your hips again and grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing it. “I love it.” He has always been an ass man and he never misses an opportunity to touch it. 

Getting into position is never sexy. There’s almost small grunts and adjustments to where your legs are comfortable and not pressing against the headboard. You apologize a couple of times when Frankie grunts, his shoulder taking your knee a little harder than anticipated. Finally hovering over his face, even though it always makes you self conscious in the beginning. 

It doesn’t bother Francisco. His eyes are focused on you and his cock is twitching and already starting to dribble just a little bit of precum, pooling around the foreskin and beaded up gorgeously. 

“Fuck, look at that pussy.” He never fails to make you feel like he could live off your cunt. Always wanting to eat you out, never making you feel like it’s a chore to him. For him it’s a reward, a gift you give him when you let him devour you and makes you soak the bottom of his chin and mouth. 

In the same way, you love sucking Frankie’s cock. Hearing the moans and the slightly desperate whine that you can pull from him as you swallow his length down and drip when he forgets to stay still and chokes you slightly. 

Your fingers wrap around his length, smiling when you feel his pulse in your hand and wiggle your hips back as you lean down. Rolling the protective skin that covers the head and revealing the sensitive skin, already flush with need and begging for your attention. 

The first lick is always a tease, both of you groaning and your own hips push back insistently when his warm breath washes over your wet folds, his own chuckle a little smug because he knows that if he holds out, you will be begging for his tongue. Not that he would ever deny you, he’s too greedy for your taste, for the warm musk of your cunt to fill his senses and thoughts. 

Your tongue is fluttering around the head of his cock, lapping at the beads of precum when he takes his first sample of your cunt, making your eyes roll back at the wet heat and moan against him. His own grunt of approval is one you always listen for, even when you’ve just stepped out of the shower. That’s just your own personal issues, something that he scoffs at every time he wants to go down on you when you are hot and sweaty. He doesn’t give a shit. 

Once it’s begun, both of you quickly descend into madness. Every flick of his tongue pushes your own need to make him moan, your throat opening and taking him deeper. Loving how he chokes into your folds when you swallow around him. 

The sounds are low, vibrating around you both as they are muffled by the tasks you are eagerly partaking in. Frankie is thick and it always makes your jaw ache to blow him, but there is no way you will give up. You love how he fills your throat and blocks the air as he twitches. The subtle gasps that he tries to hide by pushing his tongue inside you when he feels your moans vibrate around him. 

You both love to give pleasure to the other, making this the ultimate indulgence. It becomes a race, to see who can make the other break again. Once your jaw stops popping every time you take him deep into your mouth, you increase the pace. Greedy as you bob your head and reach down to roll his balls gently in your fingers and make him keen in pleasure. 

Frankie is filthy when he eats your pussy. Sloppy and thorough. There is no part of your sex that he won’t shower in attention. Licking you from the top of your clit right up to your puckered hole, he licks and flicks his tongue against the spots that have your grinding back onto him. Wanting you to smother him with your cunt and if he dies, well, he would just die happy. 

Rocking on his face, both at the encouragement of his hands as he guides you and from your eagerness to suck his cock down, you both rocket the other towards orgasm, increasing the pressure around his length and bucking back when he sucks your clit into his mouth. 

Muffled curses can barely be heard, but each one of you feels them, adding to the knotting coil in your belly when Frankie pulls his mouth away from your clit long enough to moan your name before he is diving back into you. 

Years together has given you the keys to making sure the other cums. Knowing how he reacts and what he loves, where he knows your body just as intimately. Your jaw goes slack when he pushes his fingers deep inside you and presses them just right, your toes curling and your hips rolling back. Only to pull off his cock with a pop and spit on it to wrap your hand around the base and start to pump him while you gobble him down again. 

You feel like you are losing your mind. So close to cumming while trying to make sure that he is worked up to that peak. Feeling him get even harder every time you swallow him down, the strength of his hands nearly bruising as he holds you in the best position to attack your cunt. 

It’s coiling in your belly, tight and explosive, only taking one more flick of his tongue before you are keening around his cock. Body shaking and you absorb every pleased moan as you soak his face. 

Frankie is the type that only lets go after you’ve been satisfied so the pulling down of his hips is the only warning you get before he starts to flood your mouth. Ropes of his salty seed fill your mouth, making you gulp down as much as you can as it spills out the sides of your mouth. Throbbing wonderfully on your tongue and muffling your whines as his continues to take you apart with every pass through your sensitive folds. 

Neither one of you stops until the other is squirming away, both panting when you pull away and there is that brief second before the post orgasm giggles begin. Shifting off of him and turning around to see his wet, smiling face and despite the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, leaning into kiss him. Curling into his body and snuggling against him right as the baby starts to cry. “Fuck.” Frankie chuckles. “At least we got it in.” He snorts, amused by that fact and relaxed. He’s always happy when you both get to pleasure each other with a sixty-nine.

[simplyholl]

Be A Good Girl For Daddy

Summary: When Loki’s son breaks up with you, his father has a tempting plan for revenge.

Pairing: Dilf Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Toxic relationship. Mentions of you getting cheated on. Daddy Kink. Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.

W/C: 1.4k

See my Masterlist Here

Your relationship with Narfi had been rocky from the start. He was mercurial. You had to walk on eggshells just to keep him happy. Every time there was an argument, he mentioned how there was no shortage of women waiting to be with him. You were replaceable. He never let you forget it. Despite everything, you loved him.

On his best days, he was sweet, loving, Prince Charming come to life. You loved everything about him, including his family. His brother, Vali was the exact opposite. He was the perfect partner to his wife, Olivia. You couldn’t help your jealousy. He never fought with her or raised his voice, especially not in public. You weren’t sure he was even capable of losing his temper.

But where Narfi lacked manners, his father, Loki made up for it. He would always open doors for you, pull your chair out, refill your drinks, get you flowers on special occasions. He was always scolding Narfi for his treatment of you.

One night after a particularly heated argument, Loki told you that you deserved better than his son. Still you stayed in a relationship, you should have left years ago.

Tonight was the end of that, though. You had caught Narfi texting with another girl and from the conversation, you could tell he had been sleeping with her. When you confronted him, he broke up with you. He said that you were insecure and he he didn’t know why he kept you around so long. You had wore your sexiest dress for him tonight, and you still weren’t enough.

To make a bad situation worse, he did it in front of his family. Vali and Olivia tried to comfort you, but you were too shocked, too hurt. You couldn’t move. You just sat on the steps, your face in your hands, sobbing. They finally gave up and left for their apartment.

Loki let you cry in peace, busying himself by cleaning his house. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, but you knew it was too long when Narfi came in with the woman he was cheating with. They both stared at you for a moment before walking passed you.

“You’re still here? She’s so pathetic.” He says making the girl laugh as they walk by. You rolled your eyes at the irony. He was calling you pathetic when he was so terrible with money that he couldn’t keep a steady job. He couldn’t afford rent or pay his bills so he had to live with his father.

Loki saw the whole interaction and came to check on you. He reaches his hand out to you. You take it, letting him lead you to the kitchen. “Dry your tears, sweet girl. I’ve told you, you deserve better.” You sniff wiping the tears from your eyes. “I know, I should have listened to you. Then I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Your gaze lingers on Loki’s handsome features. You thought it was crazy that he had been single for so long. Part of Narfi’s appeal had been that he was almost as gorgeous as his father. You had hoped he would age like him too.

Dwelling in your heartbreak gave you time to think. You wished you had met Loki first. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t made yourself come to the thought of him more than once. His bedroom was beside Narfi’s. After having less than satisfying sex with Narfi, you would touch yourself thinking of him.

Narfi would take a shower right after, leaving you to take care of yourself. It wouldn’t take long for you to get yourself off when you thought of Loki next door. You always tried to be silent just in case he could hear you, but a few months ago his name slipped passed your lips. If he heard you, he hasn’t said anything or acted differently around you.

“You were too good for him. I raised him to be a gentleman, but obviously I failed there.” Loki’s voice clears your thoughts. You take his hand in yours to comfort him. “It’s not your fault he’s such an asshole. It’s silly, but I always wished he was more like you.”

Loki’s eyebrow quirks at your words. He cups your face, placing his thumb on your bottom lip. “I know the perfect way to get back at him.” Your eyes light up. You would love to get revenge for everything he had put you through. You knew Loki to be quite the trickster, so this should be good.

“We could sleep together.” He suggests as serious as a heart attack. “I don’t know. That’s a little inappropriate, isn’t it?” Loki leans against the table. He’s acting if what he’s just said isn’t ridiculous. “Darling, I can fuck you better than he ever could. You think I don’t hear you on the other side of the wall? I know he doesn’t fuck you right. And don’t pretend like you’re not attracted to me. I’ve heard you moaning my name while you touch yourself. What better way to get revenge than to fuck his father?”

He smiles at you in that way that makes him impossible to resist. He makes it very hard to argue with him. You clear your throat. “If I agree, would we tell Narfi?” Loki considers for a moment. “If you want to tell him, we will.” He smirks. “Or it could be our little secret.” You jump on the counter, beckoning him closer with your finger.

Loki takes his place between your legs, his eyes full of lust. “We will just keep it between us. I love that he won’t know. It makes this so much hotter. The knowledge that his dad made me cum, and he never could is the best revenge.”

Loki’s large hand rests on the back of your neck, bringing your face to his. His lips collide with yours. You feel his muscled back through his button up. Your fingers fumble trying to undo each button. You become frustrated, settling for pulling the material between your hands as hard as you can.

A few buttons spring free. Loki chuckles darkly. “Impatient, are we?” He removes his shirt for you. He brings his hands down to your thighs, eventually landing on your stomach. He pushes you gently laying you down on the cool marble of the high top.

“A delicious meal spread out for me on the counter. I have no choice, but to eat.” He lowers his head between your thighs, swift fingers pull your panties down your legs. He wastes no time. His warm tongue rolling in waves against your clit. You clutch his shoulders, moans falling from your lips.

He places his arms underneath you, tilting your hips upward. He sucks and nips at you until you’re an incoherent mess. He seals his mouth to your clit, the pressure causing you to come undone. He unbuttons his pants, his hard cock jutting outward. He lifts you off the high top, pulling your dress up for better access. He lines you up with his throbbing length. Loki sinks into you, backing you up against the stove.

His rough fingers dig into your hips as he lowers you back onto himself. He rocks into you harder now, basically using you as a fuck toy. Your back roughly hits the knobs on the stove. It hurts, but you don’t mind. All you can focus on is this force of a man, slamming into you.

He moves you toward the table, switching positions, so now he’s behind you. He spreads your legs wider, sinking into you from this new angle. His thumb finds your clit, strumming with expertise. You arch your back for him, throwing your ass back to meet every thrust.

He takes your hair in his hands, pulling harder with every lunge. “My precious little slut. Such a good girl for me. Tell me who you belong to.” He commands, circling your clit. The fire in your belly rising, bringing you closer to the edge.

“I’m yours, Daddy.” His movements are rougher now. He grips your hips harder pulling you back against him. His cock plunges deeper, hitting your sweet spot. You cry out. Your knuckles grip the edge of the table.

“That’s it, come for Daddy.” His finger swirls your slick bud with perfection in tandem with his large hand slapping against your ass. You shatter as he continues bringing his hand down against your soft flesh. He talks you through it like you always fantasized he would. “So perfect. You take me so well.”

You feel his thrusts grow sloppy and know he is close too. He stills, spilling inside you. His ragged breath tickling your neck. You lay there for a minute against the table with Loki still buried deep inside you.

You hear footsteps so you glance up. “You fucked my dad?!” Narfi exclaims, looking from you to his father, still buried inside you. “I always knew you were a dirty slut. This just proves it.” Narfi spits the insult at you, usually his words would sting. Now they don’t bother you at all. Loki looks at his son, smirking as he slaps you on the ass in front of him. “She was a good girl for Daddy.”

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @potter-puff007 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @gigglingtiggerv2

[prettyboykatsuki]

give yourself up, my treat | h. sakura

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to as girlfriend, descriptions of makeup and nails), implied to be shorter than sakura, omorashi, piss!!!! / wetting, humiliation, lots of crying / embarrassment, praise kink, somewhat public, femdom, depictions of subspace, d/s dynamics, like... soft loving sex as aftercare but this is honestly pure kink lol sorry, 18+

✮ wc ; 4.6k (i dont want to talk about it man)

✮ a/n ; this is piss kink. like. full stop. full stop omorashi. im warning you now that this is piss kink to the highest extent. srry sakura . finally let him top and it was after making him piss himself. rip

also!! while sakura is describing how shameful he feels he is doing this all very willingly. they have a safeword but sakura does not feel any need to use it.

✮ synopsis ; sakura lets you push his limits any way you please.

Sakura listens to everything you say. Like some kind of moron.  

Can’t help himself really, as much as it irritates him to admit. 

That’s always just been his instinct. Any time he finds himself in unfamiliar waters, he leans into that as much as possible. He’s survived a long time by trusting his intuition and a longstanding distrust of other people. It speaks a lot to someone's character usually if Sakura is even mildly inclined to trust them.  

He isn’t sure if it’s his intuition that drives him to follow your order without question, but it’s a strong enough pull he finds he can’t help himself even when he so, so badly wants to resist it.  

It’s not Sakura’s fault. It’s not really yours either.  That’s just how you’ve always been. How its always been. 

(Once, well before you and Sakura were a thing - Nirei had made an observation about you. Called you disarming. Suo laughed and agreed before adding that it felt a little misleading to describe you that way even if it was true. 

 You had just moved into the area after a disciplinary case in your hometown. You’d beat up another student who was bullying your friend, got expelled and moved out on your own after the fact. Cut ties with your family and everything.  

Despite the general air of mystery around you, there was  something about you that Sakura felt pulled him in. For some reason, you never triggered his fight or flight even when it was way easier to do it. For some reason you made him comfortable, always knowing his limits and rarely teasing him even for laughs.  

An undeniable magnetism to you appealed to him a lot more than it repulsed him. ) 

Over the years, Sakura has mulled a lot over your relationship. How you approached him at fifteen with a cool, carefree attitude that left him uselessly infatuated against his will. How you took your time in getting to know him for years. Later, how you confessed. Roped him into the relationship so seamlessly that by the time things happened for real, Sakura felt totally unnerved by how inevitable—how deliberate you were about it right from the start. Something that occurred to him too late.  

You’ve always been good at placating his many troubles too, even when you’re the cause of them. His lingering paranoia, his serious attitude, his inability to deal with compliments. You handle all of it with such grace it’s like those parts of him don’t even exist. Maybe it’s because you went through something similar to him, but you understand all of it well - though you dealt with it in the opposite way he does.  

Your carefree acceptance has proved to have a good influence on him. He’s less anxious and more relaxed around you. He always feels like listening to you, and always does - and after dating for four years, he’s rarely mad about it.  

Sakura always listens to everything you say because some part of him is conditioned too. His body does it instinctively, placing more trust in your words than he does in even himself. You’ve built that in him. 

As troublesome as you can be, you’ve yet to lead him astray.

Embarrassing as it is, a long relationship has instilled a sense of obedience  to you and his… love for you that runs deeper even than his intuition.  

That’s why, when you tell Sakura to— 

“Drink,”  

—he does it without hesitation.  

He drinks another cup of tea in one gulp before wiping the corner of his lip as you smile at him very briefly.  

He no longer feels a clear sense of how much time has passed, despite the fact he’s currently very sober.  

Cramped against the wall, Sakura’s head spins as you lean your weight against his other side and chat with Umemiya over drinks. An airy smile on your lips and gentle look in your eye. Damn you.  

His chest heaves as the thick, warm air enters his lungs and stifles his already difficult breathing further. Dim lights overhead cast shadow underneath the table and only barely illuminate the topside well enough to see the remnants of a long night. Empty glasses, canisters of beer and shochu as well as a variety of small plates cleared of everything apart from stray crumbs littering its surface.  

Around him, his loved ones part into small groups and chat amongst each other. Sakura has no idea what the topic of conversation is anymore. He hasn’t heard anything other than the sound of your voice in his head for an hour and hasn’t spoken up for the last thirty minutes. When someone tries to call him into conversation, he mumbles something before you speak for him and no one bats an eye at this for which Sakura’s fucking grateful.  

It’s so hard to think of anything when his bladder feels this painfully full.  

His head is filled with white noise, red flush crawling even further along his neck until it dusts along his nose - up to the ends of his ears. Under the table, your fingers drift subtly to his inner thigh and push inward. Sakura winces, biting back a pathetic little whimper and glaring at you weakly from the corner of his eyes.  

This is torture.  

You aimlessly draw something in his thigh with your fingers before smiling gently as you nudge another cup of lukewarm tea his way. Leaning in while your conversation partners are all distracted by ordering something else, you whisper into his ear. The light warmth of your breath makes him shake, painful pressure in his abdomen steadily increases as the liquid starts to travel down his throat. Your hand is careful as it slides underneath his black t-shirt and lightly grazes his skin. It’s dark enough to not be obvious. The dull ends of your manicured nails scratch lightly at the soft, lower swell of his belly before the pads of your fingers push hard into his core.  

His body gives into the pressure, eyes widening with fear at the sudden sensation. He barely stifles a gasp before shooting you another mean look you easily ignore.  

“Haruka,” You hand him his cup again, filled to the very brim with liquid. “Drink some more tea,”  

He grits his teeth. 

“Fucksake. I can’t—I can’t.”  

You raise an eyebrow as your hand smooth down his thighs. Your lips quirk up into a smile so smug it nearly rocks him out of his anger.  

“Is that right?”  

A test. He’s always welcome to give up. He knows that. He knows that if he does you won’t hold it against him either. You want him to do it because he wanted too, always. He hates that about you.  

Sakura grinds his teeth and takes a hold of the ceramic tea cup, knocking the lukewarm tea back in one go. Your expression morphs into something pleased and endeared from the corner of his eyes and his heart starts to flutter. He isn’t sure if he’s thankful or not for all the people around, for the environment.  

It gives you free reign to lean even further into him and whisper the words he’s been desperately aching to hear all evening.  

“Good boy,” You hum, careful and deliberate. A innocent kiss gets placed on his cheek, the lipgloss dampening his skin. “You’re being so, so strong.”  

The words him melt him unwittingly. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, the rush of affection threads through his nerves and unwinds his sense of danger further. Enough that he might slip completely. He has to hold it until the clock hits midnight. Just until then. You’ll take a cab home and Sakura will relieve himself finally, finally. It’s seventeen more minutes until he can go home and empty his bladder. He can’t screw up now.  

This is the first time you’ve made Sakura hold in public. You’ve always been considerate enough to do it at home where the safety net of your mutual understanding and familiar bathroom are there even if he fails to keep it in. Even if he pissed himself in your living room or in your bedroom - it can be dry cleaned or tossed. Most of all there’s no one to explain it too.  

In public it’s different. He could pretend that he’s  drunk and while it wouldn’t be less fucking embarrassing  - at least it’s understandable. Sakura is sure that’s part of the reason you chose a place like this do to attempt such a public play. To give him the out, just in case.  

But regardless, the shame and humiliation of not being able to hold it in front of everyone he knows is a threat. It’s just so goddamn embarrassing. So horrible and awful. The anxiety makes his stomach churn but he can’t focus on a damn thing else.  

He has to go. He has too.  

He always whines about how much he hates this but you both know he doesn’t entirely mean it. It’s not that he likes this miserable sensation, as much as he likes how you get off on it. How sadistic it turns his unusually kind and light-hearted girlfriend.  

 You’ve always relished in Sakura’s shame like the freak you are. Pure pleasure on your face and absolute adoration as you watched Sakura break apart slowly and guide him through it with hushed whispers. Watching  the light color of his jeans or joggers stain dark from wetness or watch him be jostle around enough to almost piss but not enough to give him actual relief.  Teasing him until he trickles and makes his own boxers damp enough to be uncomfortable—to be cognizant  of the fact he’s pissed himself helplessly while not being able to take care of it on his own. Not without your explicit permission. 

You’ve done all sorts of play together. Usually, you have and indoor date and movie night where Sakura knocks back a few liters over of water over long few hours and gets increasingly desperate. And you get him hard during that, always sure to tease him until he’s just on the edge of wetting himself.  

You always shower together afterwards. Yet, you don’t hesitate to touch Sakura’s soft, piss soaked cock with reverence either way. Quick to praise him, whether or not he’s failed or succeeded in holding it. Despite how shameful the whole thing is and how much he protested it at the start  - some part of him deep, deep down can admit he sort of likes it. Or at least, he likes the pleasure he gets from you when you take the reigns.  

It feels good, though he really resents even kind of admitting that. The relief from holding and holding and holding and then finally getting to let go is just as good every time. Pissing himself always feels good in the moment.  

And you’re always so aroused by him after. He likes that way more than everything else being frank. Likes the way you get wet over his humiliation. Likes how softly you stroke and lick his cock when he’s all cleaned up, eyes lidded and full of pure love as he gets to cum too  - another reward for holding in so well. He loves the warm whispers of good boy against his neck and shoulders when you finally sink down on his length and the way you feel when he holds you in his lap and buries his face into your shoulder.  

All of that feels so much better when he does what he’s told and he likes listening to you. So even though it’s usually against his best interest in conditions like these - he bites his tongue and continues to drink until he feels like he’s sating your appetite, silently ignoring the ballooning in his bladder only getting worse with each pass of breath.  

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks until the clock hits midnight.  

You’re deliberately brutal in the last seventeen minutes. In that time, you make Sakura down at least another half liter of liquid and continue to tease him all the way until the izakaya closes. He’s antsy by the time the night ends. His friends slowly disperse outside and go home in different directions until it’s just the two of you waiting for a taxi to come pick you up.  

Sakura is counting the fucking seconds.  

He needs to go,  but he doesn’t want to piss himself in the taxi. His legs are crossed, shifting his weight anxiously as you hold his hand and smile plainly like nothing in the world is going on. 

Another two minutes until the cab arrives, another twelve to go home. You hum to yourself as you reach your hand up and caress the back of his neck,  palm brushing the trimmed hair and sliding slowly over his rapid pulse and flush skin. With no one around, you don’t bother hiding your intentions. You slide your hand just into the waistband of his black jeans, just above his soft cock.  

His brows raise high as your eyes lock.  

And then you push at that angle - push hard enough he feels a slight trickle. Not enough to stain his light-wash jeans, but enough that the fabric of his underwear is noticeably damp. Sweat forms at his temple from a mix of stress and shame - eyes screwed closed as he curses. He’s afraid to look at you but does anyway.  

You’re smiling just as warmly as he thought you’d be. His voice cracks under the weight.  

He thinks this is the hardest it’s ever been. The pressure is so much stronger when there’s stakes and Sakura is mildly horrified. And he has to go so bad, so bad he can’t think of anything else.  

“Fucking—,” He crumbles, feeling shameful and red faced and lightheaded as he admits this to you with trembling lips and terrified eyes. “Dunno if I can make it home, I need to - “  

You stand in front of him and push up slightly to kiss him. It’s a nice distraction. Your soft, sweet lips salve his nerves just a touch. You gaze up at him lovingly.  

“It’s okay baby, promise. Home soon.”  

The words of protest die on his lips. Despite being taller than you, Sakura finds himself feeling so incredibly small. So incredibly helpless and so, so dependent on you in that moment he hardly knows what to do with himself. It usually takes him longer to get like this. You’re the only that can bat for him if he really does wet himself. He’s doing everything you say, being obedient, chasing after the familiar high of the aftermath and it’s sinking him so deep into that headspace. He feels suspended in air.  

He grips your hands a little tighter and you smile at him. His brows furrow.  

“Wanna hold me a little baby? On the way home.”  

He nods feeling as tender as ever and you nod back, kissing his temple.  

“Mm. Good boy. It’s okay.”  

He hides a whimper into your hair as he hugs you from behind, a light laugh leaving your lips when he does. Two minutes feels like two hours.  

The taxi pulls up not long after. You open the doors for him and talk to the driver, giving him your address. Something plays on the radio that gets turned up to give you and Sakura some room as the driver makes way. It’s a short, short drive over to your apartment. Just seven minutes.  

As soon as the driver steps on the gas, Sakura turns his gaze on you pleadingly. And you smile at him, shifting to lay a little against his chest. He buries his face against your shoulder in measured breaths as your other hand comes up to play with his hair.  

“You’re extra whiny today,” You whisper without any malice. A doting edge to your words. “Can’t help it can you? We’re almost home, baby.”  

Sakura bites back another whimper, mustering as much sense into his speech as he can though he hardly wants to talk. Hardly wants to think, either.  

“So close, Haruka. Just a little more and then you can go.” You nudge him with your nose “Such a good boy.”  

“So full,” The words come out hot, on a heavy breath as his hand grips your waist tighter. “Can’t—no more,”  

“Shh,” You soothe. The shared affection between you looks like normal PDA through the reflection in the drivers mirror and it makes him feel even more self-conscious. “Three more minutes, Haru. A minute or two to walk in. Two minutes in the elevator, and another two to get the door unlocked. Nine minutes. You’ve held it for so long. I know you can hold it in a little longer.”  

He grits his teeth and closes his eyes. “Tell me I’m good.”  

“So good baby.” You nuzzle against the crown of his head. “So, so good.”  

The next few minutes feel like a complete blur.  

One more light until the driver pulls into the parking lot of your complex, politely wishing you goodnight before pulling away. Sakura nearly has to lean on you as you walk into the empty elevator and take the trip upstairs. His grip on your hand is tight as you lead him through the corridor, grips even tighter as you fish your keys out from your purse and unlock the door.  

The sound of the lock undoing makes Sakura feel so relieved. You usher him in carefully, his thighs tight and knees nearly buckling from the pressure of his bladder. He’s so full it’s painful, so full it aches and it’s so much he can’t think about anything except that and how much he wants to be free from it. He's delirious and sweaty. He just needs to go so badly.

He tries to rush to the bathroom but jostling around while he walks doesn't work out well.

A looming sense of panic sets in immediately.. He knows what's coming instinctively - the uncontrollable relaxation on his muscles when his body has reached his limit. He looks up at you pleadingly, though he’s not sure what he’s even asking you for.

He can’t think.  Barely moving as something starts to unfold inside of him, crashing into him all at once.

It’s obvious that he’d start to feel the urge to piss when he's comfortable at hom, finally in his own space but— 

He shakes his head, looking at you with blown out eyes.

“I can’t,” He hiccups as he shuffles closer and closer to the living room, teary at his lashline Trying his best to get to the bathroom and failing. “Can’t make it to the—fuck, please, I can’t. It’s.—It’s gonna, I’m gonna  -“  

Your eyes widen in understanding as you crouch just at the entrance alongside him, petting his back.  

“Oh sweetheart,” Your voice is the softest, sweetest sound he’s heard all night. “Poor thing. Shh, it’s okay baby. Let go. It’s alright, I promise. You did so good.”  

Something in him...breaks. Shatters.

His eyes go wide before they blur with tears and piss leaks from between his legs unwittingly. 

Sakura is reduced down to sobbing. His whole body shudders so hard, he’s knees buckling under the weight as the pressure finally stops. He can’t help but listen, even though he’s so, so ashamed of himself.  

Fuck. Fuck, it feels so good.  

Sakura finally, finally lets go. He crumbles under his own weight, shrinking down to his knees as he feels it soak through the layers in a hot rush between his legs. His clothes dampen and drench as he lets out long breaths. You card your fingers through his hair as he sobs through the endless stream. It feels like it’s never going to stop. He can’t open his eyes to look but he can feel the puddle forming underneath him, how it soaks into his jeans and shoes and makes them wet. How ashamed and humiliated he feels being completely unable to stop himself from wetting himself. It flows and flows and flows, testament to just how much he had to drink.  

The entirety of his pant leg is soaked with his own piss and mess. Embarrassment makes him curl up as he’s unable to stop once he starts. It goes on for so long. But it feels so good to let it out. The sheer sense of relief is more of what’s making him sob than anything else.  

Piss trickles down his legs as he heaves through deep breaths and short sobs. He feels your hands cup his face as you bend in a squat, unconcerned with the way it splashes against your shoes or tights. When he finally gets his vision back as you swipe his tears away, you’re looking at him with such reverence he wants to cry all over again.  

“You did so good baby,” You praise, warming him. You kiss him on the lips first before brushing against the crown of his head. “So good. You’re so perfect. Let’s get you cleaned up, hm? Give you you your reward.” 

He sniffles as he stares at you. “You’re such a damn pervert.”  

You laugh a little. “Mm, that’s true. Sorry, baby.”  

__  

Clean-up is always less of a hassle then he expects it to be.  

Maybe because you have a routine for it now, but it doesn’t take very long at all. You do most of the heavy lifting during it which only worsens the feeling helplessness Sakura has been experiencing for the last few hours. He doesn’t make any effort to get away or out from that headspace, though it dies down with time. The promise of a reward has been the only thing keeping him level for hours now and he’d be damned to let it all go to waste after he worked so hard.  

After a long, warm shower and change of clothes  - Sakura finally gets what he wants more than anything.  

Affection and attention.  

In the safety of your bedroom, Sakura feels particularly floaty as he holds you in your lap. Lazy and worn out, he nuzzles himself against your neck as he feels your naked torso squish against his. He’s too embarrassed to tell you verbally like this that he loves you and hopes the nuzzling does the job for him. 

Your nails feel good on his scalp as you card them again through his wet hair. Your skin smells nice too, and you’re soft and warm. The mellow thump of your heartbeat soothes him as you shower him in endless praise. It’s usually impossible for you to do this. Only when he’s bone tired like this do you get the chance.  

Too embarrassing to let you do it unless he’s worked hard for it like he did today.  

Sakura feels his length slide against your pussy and lets out a soft noise. You’re always so wet during this kind of play. It makes him feel wanted in a way he finds cringeworthy and doesn’t dare voice. Still, he doesn’t mind the feeling - aimlessly sliding his hips up and against your slick folds with a huff.  

You do him the favor of moving. Copying the gesture by sliding yourself up and against his cock without penetration. His fingers tighten on your hips, cock painfully sensitive as he whimpers. Pre-cum leaks from his tip, weepy and spent and red as he humps against you even harder - lost in the sensation.  

“Wanna cum like this Haruka? Don’t need to ask permission.”  

“Nghh.”  

He nods wordlessly as you grind yourself down harder onto him. His tip passes over your clit enough times to make you sigh pleasantly, and that sound drives him over the edge. Thick ropes of white cum spills against your soft pussy as Sakura moans and shudders  violently. Despite how close you are, he can’t help but feel like it’s not close enough.  

Maybe you sense it, because you do him the favor of sliding yourself onto his half hard cock without so much as another word. It’s still not enough for him, but it sates him better than before at least. He wraps his arms around you hard and squeezes tight. Just for a little while.  

He scowls a little as he looks up at you, sobering up enough to form a sentence after spending some time hugging you. “Have you cum yet?”  

“Don’t worry about it, baby.”  

“Shut up,” He replies with no bite and a scowl. Another flush crawls across his face. “I can make you feel good too.”  

You raise your eyebrow. 

“Sounds like you’re declaring war not trying to give me an orgasm. I’m glad I made you feel good though,” You add cheekily. He flusters immediately, instinctively getting aggressive but not wanting to shove you off of him even as you break out into a fit of laughter.  

“Fuck off. I d-don’t feel good doing that weird shit with you. I only do it because - “ 

You interject. “Because you love me? That’s a better reason to you? How sweet Haru.”  

He frowns deeply.  

“Be quiet, you—don’t put words in my mouth, damn it.”  

“Pfft, okay. I’m sorry. I hope I’m not pushing you too much.”  

He huffs a little, pouting as he goes back to pressing his cheek to your skin. His voice is a touch softer than it was before.  

“I don’t do things for bullshit reasons. Stupid.”  

“I’m glad, then. Even so, you had a tough time today hm? So I’ll let you fuck me as much as you like. Just do whatever you feel like.”  

“I wanna…return to the favor or whatever.” He says after thinking on it. “Just… wanna make you feel good too. Like….” His voice goes small “…You make me feel. Or whatever.”  

You smile at him. He can feel it, not see it. He’s avoiding looking at your face since he’s sure you’re all goofy and loveydovey.  

“The floor is all yours. No rush though okay? I like spoiling you and we’ve got all night.”  

Sakura scowls, casting his gaze down at the bedroom floor. “….I love you.”  

You smile and press another kiss to his head. He feels so content he wants to die. Your reply comes easily anyway.  

“I love you too, Haruka.”  

[starrbright]

Mindless Thoughts

Mild dubcon. Filth. Nonsense. That's it. Inconsistent patterns. A teaser to a full works that hopefully i'll do soon. Abrupt ending.

Matsukawa Issei: He gets off on watching a specific category of porn, forced gangbang, that is. He's the ceo of it, idcidc. One woman being used by multiple men, urgh, he's an addict to it. Is he guilty? Somehow he finds himself at least barely so. He does not give a fuck!!!! When has he ever did. The man has his countless favorites of videos to choose from whenever he wants to let himself loose. He's picky as well. This man has gone deep in a lot of sites and he's seen a lot of things he didn't like. Does he like watching more than four men ruin a woman, duh, he still has a few bits he doesn't like though. Which is when they're really pushing it too much, such as a man putting his foot on her head—he fucking hates that, idc. Sexual filth he loves it, duh, but miss him with any—it's what he thinks to it—bullshit of scat, even watersports especially when it's directed at her, or just straight up disgusting of running a woman's face on a bathroom floor, smother her face with a dirty mop—because what the fuck, he still regrets coming across to a certain few videos then. Anywaysssss, urgh, he likes to see the struggle. The blatantly literal power imbalance. The taunt of men. The degradation. The submission. The screams and whimpers of one woman against men as they use her.

He thinks about pulling off such a thing with the three more than often. And when he meets you with them—well.....he gets to fill his fantasy. This man is a straight up predator, I'll always stand by that. With his horsecock, no less!

Kuroo Tetsurou: Fuck this mannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Disgusting. Hate him. I need him to do this to me. Urgh. This suit and tie bastard reeks of chikan. Consuming porn and hentai when he was in his late teens, he didn't really like it whenever he comes across it, sticking to some other generic but good stuffs he finds. But of course, what do you fucking know. Ever since he started his career, always taking the train like he hasn't before, prim and proper with his crisp suits and the small suitcase he has—he's never seen, more so felt the appeal of it more than ever after being into his surroundings while he's deep in his mind as well. The rush hours of getting home from works always has the train filled. It makes him remember, think of it. Right, there's the thrill of doing something so wrong in public yet still hidden, the chances of being caught high, and just the scenario of being seen and watched quietly to their perverse indulgence of the fleeting moment. That's what's it about then, he realizes.

Fuck himmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. He went home that day and immediately made himself comfortable in his bedroom, browsing for porns and hentai of it, fucked his mind and cock raw.

What a bitch the timing was, just when he purchased a car by installment a few days ago, he suddenly has no eagerness now that much in using one. And really? What confusing luck he has. How come he's never seen you before around in the company? Given that you most probably work in different sections, but now after that revelation of his to himself, really? There he stands in front of you after being cramped in haste just when the doors were starting to close as he hurried for the last train in that time. Wearing the same lanyard of your company, he's a bit surprised as he immediately knew. He stands tall in front of you as he looks down at you while your eyes just stay barely on his chest. Given that you're probably uncomfortable from the tight space you have on each other, but he didn't want to bear an unbearable commute and make it even more awkward between you two if you somehow see each other again and especially in the company, nor keep you feeling uncomfortable. Sure. He greeted you. Said you're both in the same work despite that was obvious, made you laugh a little from how easy it was to be at ease with him. You talked the whole ride. Behind Tetsu's friendly demeanor, or rather the suitcase he holds hides and prevents his hardened cock that's suffocating in his slacks for you to see and feel. Damn him, he knows.

Sickening man. Sickeninggggggggggg. You became the muse of his desires, one would say. Oh, you did see each other again in the company then, at least because he made it so. Did all the unsuspecting ways for him to get himself be at your section. Coincidences, he says to you. You became close. He always tagged along with you in lunch, or drop by with what free time he had, and of course, with you when it's time to out from work. It's the same thing for a month now, taking the train together, talking or not, his mind was on one thing only; him on you. Thinking of how many times he's already thought of you, imagined you as he watched his loved choice porn and hentai, groping you through your clothes or just straight up fucking you there.

A guy could only have so much patience. And why not be fully a bastard then? You think it's just natural accidents when he's suddenly too close to you, bodies firm on one another, or when he grasps on your round waist to keep you steady, his breathing on your neck, feeling more entrapped not by how cramped it is inside the vehicle but because of him, or the hardness below him sometimes you get a feel from all it.

It's not intentional, you always tell yourself when doubts and possible guesses arise in you—until one day your eyes are held on each other as he has you on your back against the doors and he has his smirk.

"Took you long enough."

Bokuto Koutarou: Darling sweet man. Baby boy. This sweet angel. How could anyone immediately guess he's still a man at the end of the day? You didn't. And that's on you. Thinking rather too much of how a light he is, you forgot anyone still always has their needs. Especially the boisterous man that he is.

But then again, blame shouldn't be too much on you when he was just always simply nice to you. Koutarou always used that to his advantage. It's fun. People thinking he's such an angel when he's just like any other guy that would fuck anyone with a hole. He's a destroyer!!!!! As unserious as that is.

He's a connoisseur of forced gangbang as well. Thanks to him being an athlete with always all of the players, his teammates having their builds, the time in the lockers, showers, just overall as an athlete—when he found such a thing the first time he knew any explicit medias, that was what he became into. Fantasies of just taking a cheerleader or a fan with his teammates always plagued his mind before or after the games, or even just in training.

Now he's a pro. That didn't change at all. If anything it made him want to do something more about it now he's a lot grown. And you're one of who works with msby. The amount of times he's indulged himself to the thought of using you with the rest of the men is.....concerning.

And when he just brought it up randomly to them, as shocked as everybody was....they weren't against it.

On a random day of their training. You hadn't got a clue why Meian asked you to stay after just as you were about to leave and almost everyone has already left.

Image used. I indulged this with @shaisuki before like on may jsjwjdjjw and bc issei has been bugging me a lot lately again and just seijoh4, really, i had to do it. I'm on an agenda with this gangbang nonsense!!!! @seijhoeist, mwuah.

[freedomfireflies]

for mine what if they were picking out a christmas tree or something and got a little frisky…. we know they love their exhibitionism👀

You are so right, it wouldn't be Mine Harry without some exhibitionism hehe I love it

“Harry…Harry, please—”

“Shh,” he coos, nosing under your jaw to place a gentle kiss. Ignoring your needy pleas. “Thought you were gonna be patient, mama.”

And despite his soothing tone, you only pout, fingers curling into his red and black flannel as you plead with him for more. “Can’t. Hurts.”

“Hurts, hm?” Another kiss. Soft and not nearly enough to satiate you. “Oh I bet. If only you had done what I asked, yeah? Then I could have taken care of you.”

Your frown deepens as you recall his earlier instruction. You hadn’t meant to cum after he specifically asked you not to. Really.

But he’d been so determined. So eager to please and make you feel good. And really…you just couldn’t help yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” you nearly whine, clinging to him almost frantically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I promise—”

He shushes you again and cups the cold skin of your cheek. But he’s smiling, rather smug about your desperation. “I know, sugar. But actions have consequences, yeah?”

You know he’s right, but you’d rather die than admit it. Especially now. “Daddy,” you sniffle, attempting to push up onto your toes in order to kiss him. “Daddy, please—"

“Uh-uh,” he warns, pulling away just before you can reach. “You made me a promise that you were gonna be good today, yeah? That we were gonna pick out this tree and you were gonna be on your best behavior. So you will be. Understood?”

With a huff, you glance around the glistening woods, the idea of Christmas exceedingly less appealing to you now.

You’d been so excited to pick out a gorgeous pine and take it home to decorate. Had been excited to give in to the holiday spirit and spend your first Christmas with him. Just the two of you.

Now, however, the idea of staying out in these godforsaken woods any longer just about kills you.

He’d been so cruel after you’d cum. Met your disobedience with a strange quiet before he was taking his cock from you in order to lick up the remnants of your orgasm. And bring you to a second, as well.

But Harry wouldn’t be Harry if he let you get away unpunished. No, instead, he dangled you there on the precipice of pleasure before abandoning you with no way down. Had given you just a taste of that euphoria before ripping it away.

Leaving you edged and desperate for the foreseeable future.

Which is exactly where you’ve been ever since. And you’ve been edged before. You know what to expect, how to navigate the neediness.

But the moment you got to this Christmas tree farm, you knew you were doomed. Because having to watch him – clad in his soft flannel and dark beanie – as he swung the ax at the tree over and over? As his muscles strained beneath his sleeves and his cheeks flushed from the cold?

Well…he can’t exactly blame you for your reaction.

You feel inconsolable. Clawing at him like a child. Fighting a kind of lust that you rarely succumb to. Because he’s so beautiful, and so strong, and so good. And you love him. More than anything in the world.

And you need him. Need his hands, his mouth, his fingers. Need anything he’s willing to give you. And you don’t even care that you’re in public. You don’t care that you’re out in the frosty air attempting to cut down a tall pine. You don’t even care if the few people traipsing between the trees see you.

You just…you need…you need—

“Daddy,” you try again, bracing yourself against the bark he has you pressed against. “Daddy, please, I’ll…I’ll be so good. Be so good. Do anything you want, I promise. Promise, promise, promise.”

He chuckles to himself, and you almost hate how nonchalant he remains. As though he doesn’t care about the pain you’re in. As though he doesn’t mind if you wither away from the lack of release.   

And you don’t expect him to do much. Just…just fix it.

“Is that right?” he hums, and you nearly wilt from the dark, low sound that reverberates from his throat. Sensual and slow. “You’ll be good for me?”

You nod so quickly, your head spins. “Yes. Yes, Daddy, I will.”

And you think he understands now. Think he can see you beginning to slip away – into the kind of headspace you occasionally find yourself in. 

And even if he loves to punish you – push you, test you – he loves to care for you more. Make things better, make you feel everything.

You imagine he’s anxious to do that now. You don’t think he enjoys your punishments as much as he claims, not when the alternative is making you feel as pleasured as he can.

The tips of his fingers begin to trace the waistband of your jeans, just below your sweater. Tempting you with a taste of more.

“Do you think you deserve to be touched, mama?” he murmurs now, stepping closer as though to shield you from anyone that might pass. “Think you deserve to cum after making me so sad?”

Somehow, just the thought of upsetting him puts a deep pit in the center of your stomach. “M’sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

He smirks again before leaning in to kiss you. Quickly and with just enough understanding to ease the anxious flutter in your chest. “I know, sweetheart. Sometimes you just can’t help it, yeah?”

Another fervent nod that amuses him, and with that, his hand slips down.

The cool brush of his palm against your warm skin makes you shiver, pussy throbbing from the switch in temperature. 

But it’s perfect. He’s so…safe. So delicious and kind and practiced. Feeling you out with a determined precision that nearly has you cumming right then and there.

“Oh, sugar,” he coos, glancing down to watch as his touch disappears between the material around your hips. “S’all wet, isn’t it?”

You can only pant. After all…he knows.

“Bet it’s all achy and empty, huh?” His fingers smooth through your soaked folds, and you suck in a sharp breath. “Bet if I just play with your little clit, you’ll cum all over my hand, won’t you?”

Your head drops back against the tree, and you almost start to cry. He’s so close and yet still too far.

“Is that you want?” he whispers. “Want me to make you cum in front of all these people? Like you’re in fucking heat? Just begging me to touch you?”

You can hardly hear him. Certainly can’t respond. Because he’s right, you’re already close. And if he just…if he keeps…if he’ll only—

“Look at you,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to yours before slipping the tip of his finger inside. “So goddamn impatient. Can never wait for Daddy. Can never obey. Just so fucking greedy—”

“Har…I—”

“S’that why you were squirming in the car, sweetheart? That why you kept trying to put my hand on your thigh?” He begins to pump the long, middle digit slowly, and your toes curl. “Cause it hurt so bad? Cause you just needed something to fill you?

“Yes…yes—”

“But you didn’t ask, did you? No, you tried to be sneaky.” His thumb presses into your clit and you whimper so lewdly, you’re surprised the whole forest doesn’t hear you. “Clinging to my shirt, grabbing my arm, grinding against my leg—”

“Please—”

“And I’m good to you, yeah? Daddy’s good to you? Takes care of you even when you misbehave?”

“Mhm—” You suck in a sharp breath and drag your nails through the curls against his neck. “So…so good, Daddy, please—”

“Maybe I should just fuck you right here. Show everyone how sweet you really are for me, hm?” He adds a second finger, and you can feel your stolen orgasm bubbling to the surface. “Bet you miss an audience, don’t you? Miss having someone watch as I stretch this sweet little pussy with my cock.”

Your lashes fall shut, stomach twisting.

“Cause you like it, yeah? Like the looks they give you. The way they watch you fall apart for me—”

“Harry—”

“Is that what you really want? Want me to spread these pretty thighs and take you? Right here?” He’s pumping harder – pinching tighter. Determined to make you cum before you can stop it. “Want me to make you call out my name so they know? So they fucking know who you really cum for?”

“Daddy, please—”

It’s right there. You can fucking taste it. Can feel it already unraveling, and you know it’ll be strong. Be enough to knock the wind from your lungs and leave you slouched in his embrace.

Then…it stops. All of it. Disappears just as quickly as it approached, and you feel the water rush to your eyes.

He rips his hand out and away before you can fight him, placing the soaked fingers in his mouth with a satisfied hum.

“Uh-uh,” he warns the moment your lips part to speak. “You disobeyed me, mama, and I told you. Actions have consequences.”

Your expression drops, and your insides turn to jelly. “Da…Harry, please—”

“No.” It’s firm. Resolute. “We’re gonna pick out this tree, and then we’re gonna go home. And you will only cum when and if I decide you should. Is that understood?”

“Harry—”

“I said, is that fucking understood?” he repeats strictly, grasping onto your chin to force your eyes on his.

You swallow thickly, the first tear falling free and into his waiting thumb. “Yes, Daddy.”

He swipes it away with a soft smile. “Good girl.” Suddenly, his focus moves to the tall pine just behind you. “What about this one, hm? Think it might look nice by the window. All lit up and sparkling.”

And despite the ache in your cunt and the desperation still clawing at your chest…you laugh. Squeezing onto his wrist with everything you have left.

“I think…it’s absolutely perfect.”

LISTEN, I JUST THINK THEY'RE CUTE AND HE'S SO SWEET WHEN SHE'S ALL CLINGY BUT ALSO HE'S KIND OF MEAN BUT WE LOVE IT (also I swear he made up for it later hehe)

THANK YOU FOR READING!! I will see you tomorrow for One for the Money!! 😭💞💞

~ Full Mine Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrll @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @acesofspadess @stylesfever @caynonmoondreams  @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart 

[liliewrites]

Omg! Omg! Omg! Hiiii!!

*waves the flag aggressively* 🇵🇭🇵🇭🇵🇭🇵🇭

It's nice to see fellow pinoy here! :DD

I hope summer is treating you well! Is it okay if I request a bassist! Arlecchino and photographer! Reader? I feel like they would be such a cute pair, and imagine if they're in uni or high school and the reader is part of the student publication as a photographer journalist and the school has an event and she would just take dozen pics of arle (not in a creepy way) while she's playing for the School band, omg that would be so cute!

HELLOOOOO OMGG KABABAYAN?? HAHAHAH HALLOO:DD but yes i can see the vision hihi this is so cute, u bet i'll b writing this i love high school teenage sapphics they're so stupidly cute uwahjdwas this is giving mitsuki koga x aya oosawa/marceline x pb/himari kino x yori asanagi vibes i keep gushing about it.

-warning/s ; none, just silly girls in love:D also, i'll be using arlecchino's childhood name to make it less fictiony-ish. i hope all of u don't mind:D also peruere is a cute name..

-pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem!reader

(men please dni utc)

you'd never admit it, but you were one of those who had a crush on that popular bassist from the local band at your school, nuit rouge.

peruere snezhevna. even her name rolled off your tongue in such a smooth manner. she was beloved all around campus, especially amongst the women as she had such that cool and handsome appeal to her. she was tall, smart, athletic and a bassist with that apathetic cool guy charm to her like in those silly little shoujo animes-- you'd never admit it, but you were a victim of her charms as well. why? well, obviously because she has more than enough admirers already, she'd never notice you. so you decided to just lay low in the background and admire her secretly.

whenever your friends all gush about said bassist, you try to act as uninterested as possible, like you don't know nothing about her. "per.. per who?" you'd ask while looking at your phone just to make your friends stop talking about her to you. like your silly little crush on her, you'd never admit it (even to yourself), but you felt annoyed to hear other girls talk about her.

however, you were part of the school's journalism club, and your assigned category was photojournalism, making you the campus' designated resident photographer. as duty calls, you were tasked to take photos for the upcoming foundation day event. you had to listen to the writers' requests, as it was your task as well to catch the photos they'll be using for their assigned part in the school paper.

right now, you were with one of the news writers, charlotte, taking photos of her and the said local school band. you can remember your good friend's words before she dragged you here before you could even say a thing, "oh, y/n! y/n! come on hurry! i have to interview nuit rogue before the others do, covering them is my one way ticket to the paper's front page!"

so like the good photographer you are, you silently stood in the back, taking photos (with the band's consent, of course) while they talked with charlotte. it was mostly wriothesley who did the talking though.

as you peaked through your camera's lens, maybe you were crazy- but you thought you saw peruere staring back at you. flustered, you looked away for a little, pretending to take a photo of something else (which you probably looked like an idiot doing so, as everyone knows you're taking photos of the band, why were you pointing your camera at the wall?). when you looked back, peruere was talking now, her gaze back on charlotte.

with a breath of relief, you went back to capturing photos of the said band. the lens of your camera lingering on the bassist a bit too longer than you noticed, but she did.

eventually, the time for them to perform had come, just right after lure and 5WIRL. you had the freedom to roam around the stage to take photos, so you did- as your friend charlotte had urged you to do.

you were currently kneeling in front of the stage to hide your presence a bit, letting your camera do it's thing while they perform. multiple names were being screamed, but you were only focused on one thing-- on peruere on your camera.

"kyaaa! childe! look my way, please!"

"wriothesley!! you're so cool!"

you didn't mind their continuous screaming, you were just in the middle of the audience and the band. of course you'd hear all their fanchants and calling of their names. you continued looking through your camera's lens, focusing on peruere that right moment to capture perfect photos of the band members.

"aaaaaaaa, it's the knave! she's so handsome!"

-- for some reason, your ear started to ring in an annoying way, so you quickly and silently walked away from the crowd.

moments later, charlotte grabbed your camera from you to look at the photos. "oh, y/n.. what would i do without you??" she exclaimed, smiling at the photos in your camera. "these photos are all good.. but why are they mostly focused on that.. the knave girl?" she asked and your eyes widened, oh crap- you forgot to hide the other photos you took of her for.. for educational purposes, of course.

quick, y/n! think of a stupid excuse!

"uhm- well, she's famous.. i just thought it'd be good to capture a few extra shots of her." you lied, which charlotte bought almost immediately, much to your relief. "hm, you have a point! she is quite famous amongst the ladies.. i might make a cover story about her!"

you went home after that day, going through the photos in your camera.. to study how you caught the photos this time, of course. you know.. see how you can improve and all, to see your flaws and mistakes. definitely not to look at the photos of peruere that you took.

anyway, you looked at it, and you couldn't help but feel that silly little pang! pang! in your chest. she looked so.. cool. that serious expression on her face as her fingers plucked the string of her bass, you could remember the scene playing vividly in front of you- sweat dripping down her forehead, with her looking down at the fretboard and back at the audience, before singing a few lines.

"y/n, honey! are you in there? it's time for dinner!"

"crap- mom, don't you know how to knock?! i almost dropped my camera!"

you froze for a second, chest heaving from being startled. it wasn't a lie that you almost dropped your camera.

"my bad, dear. you weren't answering.. so i thought you were asleep."

you sighed, looking at your mom apologetically for shouting at her. you placed down your camera and went with her anyway, joining her and your siblings for dinner.

the next day, oh, archons-

the next day was annoying as hell. charlotte's interview with nuit rogue was on the front page as expected, and the three members were the talk of the town once again. you could hear their names buzzing all throughout campus. one of your friends came running to you, oh great, you immediately knew what would be the first thing that'd come out of their mouth.

"y/n! did you see peruere yesterday? she was so coool! surely, you did! you must think she's so cool now, right??"

called it. you sighed, walking with her with a forced uninterested face. "yeah. i was the photographer, of course i'd get to see their performance. upclose, even." you told her, earning you an envious pout and a hit to the shoulder from your friend. "no fair! ugh, you're so lucky.."

were you even? you just got to see her upclose. not like you were able to talk to her. not like she was able to notice you anyway.

you shrugged your friend's whims away and continued on with your day.

you went through your first few classes just as usual, and now you're currently in the comfort room to wash your hands before eating. minding your own business, you were startled when you heard someone talk behind you.

"excuse me, are you.. are you y/n? the photographer..?"

you look behind you and you felt like your heart would once again jump out of your heart (willingly) at the sight of her, peruere. you slowly nod, not exactly sure if you could spit out words. ".. do you hate me?" she asked, much to your surprise. you almost choked on your own spit, hearing that.

"n-no! no no no, i don't.. why- where did you get the idea??"

you panicked, you were nervous at the thought of her thinking that you disliked her when it was really the opposite and the girl in front of you looked somewhat relieved, but she stared at you with curiosity and worry.. but you convinced yourself you were hallucinating. no way, why would she be worried?? "at the foundation day, you were glaring at me. i was just wondering since then if i've ever offended you." she told you, making you almost choke on your spit the second time, where was she getting these ideas??? "p-peruere, no! i wasn't glaring at you.." you exclaimed, leaning back as she leaned in closer, as if studying your face. you looked away, a bit flustered. "peruere..?" you asked, and she sighed as she leaned back again.

"i'm not buying it. you can't even look at me. please, let me make it up to you."

she held out her hand, holding tickets in front of you. "let's go watch a concert together. my treat."

you felt as if your legs had turned to jelly at her words- your crush was offering you to go watch a concert together?? and you were quick to refuse, embarrassed. "no, no! peruere, it's fine. i'm not ma-"

"no, i insist. i'll see you on saturday. send me your location and i'll come pick you up."

she grabbed your hand, placed the tickets in your palm, closed it and smiled at you. maybe you were crazy- but you felt as if she held your hand for a long, long, stupidly long time (she was).

"i don't like it when i offend people, miss y/n. so let me, okay?"

you were just- just taken aback at this point. you felt like you were dreaming. ".. okay, peruere. i uhm, thank you.." you told her. she nodded at your words in approval. "okay. i'll see you around, miss y/n." she politely excused herself and you just realized that she had just let go of your hand when she left.

now you were in bed. staring at the tickets in your hand.

your crush really asked you to go to a concert with her.

it was hard for you to wrap you lovestruck mind around it, and you started rolling around in your bed and kicking your feet like a madman.

"peruere- she really invited me!"

you exclaimed in your pillow, blushing and squealing. in the midst of your screaming and feet kicking fangirling session. your phone buzzed and you immediately picked it up.

@perrie_knave followed you.

@perrie_knave sent you a message.

your eyes widened and you immediately felt like you were about to explode.

what the hell are you going to reply??

a/n ; u win, anon. i love this concept so much. i'm going to start planning. a oneshot isn't enough to justify this. i need silly little girls falling in love. does anyone want to see a socmed au of this?? oh who cares, i'm doing it anyway.

[applestorms]

the misa post

adding a lil additional note here because this thing SPIRALED the fuck out, even more so than some of my usual essays. therefore, i will be going back to my roots by breaking this post down into two sections: misa and sexuality, and misa and romance/death. skip to whatever section, if you wanna. or don't. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

misa and sexuality:

honestly, the way that misa engages with her sexuality in DN is such a fascinating topic in and of itself. i really have quite mixed feelings about it because while yes, to some degree the art and story does sexualize and objectify her, there is also an element of agency to it that i don’t often see people talk about…?

like, idk. misa is a model, she does act, her job primarily involves working in front of cameras. she’s selling her Image and her body and she’s well aware of how to market the appeal— we literally see her doing this during yotsuba, when they’re trying to free matsuda after he runs around like an idiot and gets caught.

i actually think it's quite interesting that she specifies being against nudity here but alright with swimsuits and lingerie— full nudity implies sex work, something that in the mainstream might be considered "dirty" or somehow less/not worthy of respect (even if that's utter bullshit). yet lingerie is fine, despite having similar implications of sexuality, blocking off the most private areas and thereby allowing profit off of the same concept but without the associated disapproval. you could read this panel as misa simply knowing her boundaries and what she is and isn't comfortable with— but i think it's interesting that you could just as easily read this as misa knowing what boundaries she is and isn't allowed to have, if she is to market herself as effectively as possible and maintain her public image.

off the top of my head i can only think of two major examples where it’s clear that misa is super overtly being sexualized by forces outside of her control/with no particularly meaningful justification, at least in terms of visuals. this panel, which managed to sneak in a panty shot:

which, weirdly enough was actually kind of foreshadowed by sayu earlier in the chapter:

(sidenote1: does light really not have any other fucking chairs? further evidence that he doesn't really connect with people pre-DN, if he's not really prepared to have any guests in his room. anti-social weirdo.)

and, of course, the classic torture cover from chapter 33:

though i must admit, it is difficult to find any image of a character getting tied up like this that doesn't have some implication of sexuality. bondage torture is just a classic like that. though the camera certainly doesn't help, L— and neither does the fact that light and soichiro are not put into an equally objectifying, sense-deprived contraption like this, and instead just get normal ass bare cells.

in many other cases however, misa herself is the one flaunting her sexuality, typically as a means of trying to appeal herself to light but sometimes i think you can definitely read it as misa just. dressing the way that she wants to dress because it's cute? like, okay, in terms of trying to appeal herself to light we've got this classic panel from after the timeskip ft. a particularly homosexual light moment:

but there's also plenty of misa moments that just look like this:

girlie is chilling. literally kicking her feet, stalking her crush in bed with her supernatural death god girlfriend.

to be clear, this is not to say that death note isn't sexist or has particularly fantastic writing for its female characters. rather, what i'd like to point out here is that there are different levels under which we can view and analyze misa's sexuality:

the base level, of a girl who is comfortable with her body and fine with wearing revealing clothing

the level above that, involving the fact that misa's job revolves around selling her image, of which her sexuality is a key factor

and then the uppermost meta level, surrounding the fact that misa is a character in a story not only written and illustrated by men, but sold in shounen jump, meaning that she is thus filtered pretty significantly through a quite literal male gaze

it both can be and is true that misa is simultaneously objectified for her body on multiple levels and a pretty fucking horny person herself (or at the very least, willing to push that for the sake of her own goals)

remember, misa is the one pushing for their "alone time" here.

just. idk. i suppose my main point here is simply that i think this is a topic that deserves to be looked at with more nuance. there is credence to both the claims that misa is sexualized in DN and that misa herself has agency in how she chooses to dress and present herself, and i don't think you can cleanly separate those two aspects without losing something significant.

honestly, when it comes down to it, my personal take is that the real problem of sexism in DN is less about the particular ways in which individual female characters are presented/traits they are given, and more about the broad strokes of how women in general are treated... if my post on that particular subject ever ends up seeing the light of day, i guess i'll link that right about here. anyways,

misa and romance/death:

if there is one thing that her parents dying, almost being killed by a stalker, and making contact with a shinigami teaches misa, it is that love is something you kill and die for.

i really don't think that you can separate out "death" from "love" when it comes to misa, not only in terms of general themes, but also when it comes to how she personally views the world. i mean, just look at rem and gelus— death literally loves her, and in the process of loving her, allows her to cheat her way back to life. ryuk calls light a better shinigami than the actual shinigami, but honestly, if anyone fulfills that role, it's misa— she's the one whose life gets cut down until others stock it back up, who has so little regard for life (both in terms of others' and her own), who gambles her time again and again and does whatever she wishes, when she wishes, how she wishes.

it's that second point in particular that really gets to me here. throughout the story, misa shows herself to be equally detached from both the world and herself— she kills without care, gives up half her lifespan without a speck of a second thought, throws herself into dangerous situations and pushes for what she wants even when she knows it's stupid and probably going to get her caught. i'm slightly tempted to say that death's love for misa is the only mutual love she ever has, but that has some implications that i don't think quite fit. misa doesn't get a kick out of killing, she is not (overtly, or very explicitly) suicidal in the sense that she constantly expresses a yearning to kill or be killed. it's more of a toned down attachment than that, which... kinda gets into my next point, on misa's relationships. namely, with two very important people: rem and light.

in terms of rem... i struggle to analyze this relationship sometimes in the context of canon because at times it just feels like there is so little to work with. but perhaps that also fits, in a way...?

one thing that i think the musical really got right about rem is the fact that she has some of the most genuine feelings of love in the entire series, just in general but also specifically in terms of how other characters treat/approach misa. again, misa is a person whose job revolves around people loving or being attracted to her. i have a very hard time believing that the person who tried to kill her was her first or her last stalker, but even without getting to that level of intensity, much of the love surrounding misa is superficial, distant. she is beloved for the image she fits and the role that she plays, but very few people (if anyone) are even capable of getting close enough to recognize the self she hides under that mask (assuming, of course, that she ever lets that core part of her out).

rem is perhaps one of those few people, seemingly having watched misa for years alongside gelus before breaking that parasocial divide and meeting her idol in person. yet, it's also that very period of watching that puts a strain on their relationship, in my mind...

to put it bluntly: apologies to any and all remisa shippers, but i simply Do Not see there being much canon evidence that rem's love for misa is in any way mutual. not only do i struggle to think of any notable scenes where misa displays even an inch of affection or care towards rem, but misa is also kind of horrifically apathetic to rem's death, iirc. i mean, in a way, she's basically the cause of it— in failing to remember L's name upon getting her memories back, she pushes the first domino in the line leading up to watari, L, and rem's deaths.

misa basically treats rem like just another stalker, accepting her love so long as it is somewhat distant or gets her what she wants.

but, like. as shitty as that is to think about, it does kinda fit that misa would treat genuine love this way. at no point does she push back on or try to change rem's mind about this, or even really say fucking anything in response to rem's overt romantic/threatening overtures about how she'll kill anyone who tries to hurt her. i'm kinda inclined to view this as misa's attempt at kindness, accepting the love of her fans for what it is but never pushing it in either direction. she neither demands rem's love, nor attempts to dissuade it— it is what it is, and what happens, happens. and if it results in rem's death, or results in her own... at least it all happened out of love.

now, in terms of light... i was gonna make this its own post but it's on topic, so i might as well just add it here.

it is simultaneously so, so sad and yet also so, so utterly fucking funny that misa is perfectly designed to be everything that light absolutely hates. like, to just list it out cuz i literally have too many points to simplify this down into proper paragraphs rn, misa is:

uncontrollable. supposedly, misa is a perfect little devoted disciple of KIRA, willing to do anything and anything for him as thanks for getting justice for her parents' killer. but like... we all know how this actually works out. misa does whatever the fuck she wants, usually with the thin justification that it'll help KIRA in some way, and light is left behind to deal with the clean up.

stupid. no, not really— but she at the very least presents herself as such, as a ditzy, silly little girl, willing to do anything for love even if it hurts her. really, all this proves is that she wears a mask, just the same as light, though in the process she manages to also reflects to his own sins back at him. misa plays stupid so that she can justify doing stupid things without having to feel bad about it (or get emotionally attached at all?)— light plays god, a being above human morals, so he can do horrifically immoral things without having to feel bad about it. equal and opposite, in the worst possible way.

powerful. and pushy. the only person more stubborn than light yagami is misa amane, etc. etc. just like KIRA, she is a key pawn that light must rely on logistically, but is disgusted with all the same. misa is not a god, not in the way that KIRA is— she's just another filthy criminal, uncaring about the horrible acts she has committed. but she fits herself into his plans in just the right way that he can't quite come out and condemn her directly, and therefore is stuck quietly stewing in his dislike of her instead.

a liability. related to this is the fact that she is essentially unkillable, at least as long as rem is alive. many of the points behind her being uncontrollable apply to this one as well.

feminine. in a way that light dislikes, but also cannot ignore. she's cute and hot in a way that light is supposed to like, if he is to fit in w/ his Just A Typical, Good, Respectable Boy routine, but also drives him up the wall— pitting his desire to be "good" against his desire to be a "boy," essentially. (this point in particular is taken from THIS POST, big thanks to shydroid3000 for the beautiful yotsuba light analysis!!!)

possessive. controlling, in a way, which is again ironically exactly like light himself. light Hates being controlled because it means there may be factors outside of what he has power over, a trait which becomes increasingly relevant in the latter half of the story.

untouchable. even after rem's death, light can never quite get into the right position to kill her. she's almost too effective, causing light problems (e.g. yotsuba) and fucking things up, but never in such a way that he can easily place the blame on her shoulders alone. she is useful, a necessary evil, outliving multiple gods.

and, above all else, ultimately...

(sidenote2: it's kinda interesting to compare misa to L in this regard, actually, especially in terms of why light gets so attached to L but hates misa so viciously, despite L also being quite a bit like light? i guess you could say that misa reflects back the parts of light that he doesn't like as much, or even more specifically that she reflects KIRA back at him, where L matches/opposes light in terms of what he sees to be his better traits— his intelligence, his social power, etc. something to consider.)

to follow up on the sentiments of this post: misa does not love light. she relies on him to fill the hole in her life, in her, as a quick fix to avoid having to engage with the deep-seated grief that haunts her, an answer to the horrifying question of why she is even still here, alive, so long after her appointed bell has already stopped ringing.

to tie this all together, then... i suppose it's fitting that both love and sexuality are are so essentially Empty when it comes to misa amane. ultimately, she is a character defined by a misery she never allows herself to show to the world, a girl stubbornly sticking to the first reason she managed to find for living. again, just like light, she is a character that never grants herself the ability to truly grow up, stuck in the same childish, immature cycles of thinking and methods of presentation she came up with when her life first failed to end. a tragedy in her own right, unable to even remember the face of the one being that genuinely loved her at the moment of her own true death.

born on christmas, dead on valentines. how fitting.

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Yours are my Favorite!

Bokuto Koutaro x Reader

cw: MDNI. SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA'S END.

light body image stuff? mildly suggestive? kinda touchy? they're married though. I'm not sure if it's proofread or not.

You weren’t immune to the doomscroll, unfortunately. 

Which was how you even came across some rather interesting information to begin with.

It was a random weekday and you were going through some social media. Which was how you discovered that it was apparently selfie day for the fans of the MSBY Black Jackals. You’d noticed the team name trending in your area and had clicked out of curiosity. Cute girls in jerseys, posing in really cute and flattering ways with equally flattering camera angles littered your feed.

You remembered this being a thing “idol” fans did. But MSBY were professional athletes…

Guess everyone with a pretty face was an idol now, and the Jackals had quite a few pretty faces to spare. Your husband’s being the prettiest, of course.

Aaaannnnd it wasn’t like this wasn’t good publicity. At the very least more people could take interest and boost profits! You lost yourself  in your musings as you continued to mindlessly scroll through the images. Your darling had a lot of fans… 

As he should! 

Big ball of sunshine that he was.

You kept looking at the, quite frankly, very attractive ladies, many of whom were wearing that proud jersey number 12 and mentioning Bokuto in their posts. You even came across one, exceptionally attractive lady who had her plush…pectorals? Could you say pectorals? The pectoralis major was the muscle, but breasts were mostly fat sacks…well either way they were very plush and very nice looking. 

You couldn’t help but look down at your own more clothed chest, looking much less…appealing…

much less plush…

much… 

just much… 

less. 

After looking at a bunch of pretty ladies and that last one in particular, a rather nasty little monster reared its ugly head. Logically speaking you had nothing to worry about. Really. You were very happily married, and he valued you so, so much.

It’s not like he even used social media for more than just memes, looking up plays, and supporting his friends however he could. Yeah nothing to worry about at all!

No worries at all!

None!

Absolutely none!

But you had to admit you were a teensy tiny bit jealous because honestly: those were some really nice boobs!

Nothing wrong with acknowledging that right?

Right?

Your front door clicked and you were snapped back into reality. Turning you saw your beloved bursting in through the door, a massive grin on his face as he took you in, “hey hey hey! How was your day?”

That cheesy little rhyme got a little chuckle out of you, “uneventful,” you approached the entryway, “how was yours Kou?”

“So get this! Hinata, Hinata right?” He starts laughing as the memory floods his mind. “Receives one of Tsumtsum’s best serves perfectly and he got all mopey!” He burst out laughing again. “Then he got all fired up and kept aiming all his serves directly at Hinata so he wouldn’t get to spike!”

“I can’t imagine that keeping Sho-chan down though,” you hummed, leading your husband deeper into your home.

“‘Course it didn’t!” That got another amused bout of joy from your husband. “Not a single serve got Hinata down! He was jumping up for almost all of them too!”

You grinned imagining the setter’s face scrunched up in utter annoyance.

“Omi-san must have been amused.”

“Hehehe he was!”

He continued to tell you about all sorts of things that were going on with the team, things he was trying to learn, cool facts, that he saw something Keiji might like and wanted to send it over to him, everything. All the while you got the food out and onto the table and he got the plates out. Your usual routine.

It was later in the evening after you’d eaten and cleaned up and were sitting down to rest that you unlocked your phone and came across that picture of that fangirl again. Noticing the shift in your energy, Koutarou asked after you, “hey hey what’s got you down birdie?”

“Hmm?” You snapped your attention up to meet his everso observant golden hues. “Oh nothing, nothing,” you tried to wave it away, “just some of your fans are really pretty Kou.”

“Eh really?” 

“Yeah,” you tried to sound nonchalant, “here take a look.”

You turned your phone screen so he could see the fan you’d been looking at. You watched his curious features open up into surprise, or perhaps he was impressed.

“Those are some nice boobs.”

“Right?!” You couldn’t help but agree. “I’m kinda jealous, I wish mine were that nice.”

“Eh? What’s wrong with yours?” His confusion returned as he turned to you.

“Nothing,” you denied, “it’s just that hers are so much nicer!”

You looked back up from your phone when you could hear your husband humming in thought. He had his thinking face on, his chin gripped in thought. Seems he figured things out though because he was dragging you into your shared bedroom barely a moment later, with an excited, “come with me!”

You followed him, not like you had a choice - he was holding your hand and moving quickly, phone still in hand. No sooner had you both entered the room, than he’d dropped your hand and went to look for something in the closet. You just watched him, curious as to what it is he could possibly be looking for. Though when he let out a triumphant, “found it!” You knew your curiosity was about to be satiated. 

It was his black MSBY jersey, the one he wore for away games. He was tugging your current shirt off in his excitement, “Kou hey! What’s going on?” You asked mildly frazzled. “Here-just, oof.”

The two of your worked to get your shirt off leaving you in your usual undershirt. “Alrighty take your undershirt off too!” He cheered.

“Where are you going with this Kou?” You couldn’t help but ask as you complied, reaching for the hem of your undershirt.

He let out one of his darker, more mischievous chuckles, and you felt a mild twinge of concern, “you’ll see~”

You were now in nothing but your bra, your husband studied you thoughtfully for a moment, nodding to himself, “yeah that’ll work!”

“What’ll work?”

You didn’t really get an answer as he pulled his jersey over your head, turning it around and adjusting it so that you had it on correctly while you squirmed to get your arms out through the holes. Your hair felt like a total mess with how your husband had been undressing and redressing you. Not a problem though, because with that ever so charming, giddy smile of his, he was already working to fix up your hair, removing any accessories you had to keep it up or out of your face, and ruffling it with his warm, calloused fingers.

It felt nice, even if you were still confused by him.

He stopped soon enough taking a small step back to admire his work: golden eyes trailing across your face and body. He gave a satisfied hum and nod, impressed and happy with his work. Though when his enthusiasm was met with what you were sure was a befuddled expression on your face, it was his turn to be confused. It was only momentary as his scrubbed up expression lit up in a way where you could practically see an animated lightbulb lighting up next to his head.

Before you knew it he was dragging you to the full length mirror inset on your wardrobe. Standing directly behind you, he took a moment to pull the v-neck of his jersey down to reveal even more of your cleavage.

Oh.

You let out a little huff of amusement, “I still think hers looked nicer love,” you met his gaze in the reflection, “but thank-“

“Something’s still missing” he hummed cutting you off, “ah got it!”

Within an instant, your husband had slithered his arms under his jersey as his large hands gathered the flesh of either breast and pushed them up. He beamed at you through the mirror, clearly pleased with the results of his efforts. Indeed, you could kind of rival just how nice that one fan’s cleavage. He had done well in recreating the look, and making you feel better. 

“Hehehe she might have nice boobs,” he gave yours a little squeeze for added measure, “but yours are my favorite!”

Your grin threatened to split your face in two, as the sound of your shared laughter filled the air of your apartment. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too! A lot!”

Tumblr Masterlist | Ao3 Account

I welcome comments if anyone would be inclined to leave such.