#this time i did that. realized i had an entire week for it. and actually tried to better it !!!!

[gumify]

ESPRESSO feat. satoru gojo ❝ WALKED IN AND DREAM CAME TRUED IT FOR YA ! ❞

now playing... espresso by sabrina carpenter.

summary. never in your life did you think a silly coffee shop tradition with your friends would result in a game of cat-and-mouse with an unabashedly flirtatious barista. but, then again, you’d never met satoru gojo.

tags. barista!satoru x fem!reader, college au, non-curse au, fluff, strangers to lovers, reader’s lowkey a menace & toru’s highkey delusional.

wc. 2.9k

note. first post everybody cheered !!! ‘m missing my blue-eyed loser more than usual today so enjoy this entirely self-indulgent piece 😣💢

ㅤ ㅤㅤyou and your friends have this… thing, you see.

it all started years ago, when you’d begun to develop a raging caffeine addiction in the midst of your final exams. it was then that your best friends had dragged you to the coziest café on campus, and it was there that they let you in on their little secret.

thinking back, you remember it being utahime who had whispered the words in your ear with a giggle. the words you’d hold yourself to for the rest of your university life; and the words you probably should have turned down if only you'd known better.

the words being: “when you place your order, don’t give the barista your actual name.”

you’d stared at her as if she were crazy.

"... why?"

“because it’s funny!”

“is it, though?”

“of course!” this time, it was shoko that insisted. “we’ve been playing around with these guys for weeks now — you’ve gotta see the looks on their faces every time we walk in with a new name!”

you gave in with a halfhearted shrug. "whatever you say, ieiri.”

and just like that, your trio’s tradition was born.

some days, you like to coordinate your aliases according to characters from books, movies or tv shows you’ve been enjoying. most days, it’s whatever random name pops into your minds as you walk into the coffee shop.

today, you decide on the former.

“we should totally do friends.” utahime chirps, bouncing on her toes as the three of you are heading to your usual morning pick-me-up spot. “in honor of all those reruns we watched last weekend!”

“in honor of all those reruns you watched last weekend.” shoko corrects, “we tapped out as soon as mr. ‘we were on a break!’ got too big for his boots.”

“and missed out on a whole seven incredible seasons!” utahime protests.

you shake your head with a chuckle, “guess we know who’s being rachel, then.”

“i call dibs on phoebe!” shoko’s quick to announce.

“i— hey!” you pout, “you know she’s my favourite character!”

“you snooze you lose, y/n.”

“what do you have against monica anyways, hm?” utahime instigates.

“nothing. she’s just not phoebe.” you reply, plain and simple.

“she did get the best love story of the entire series…” utahime hums. “who knows?” her brows wiggle in jest, “we could be manifesting something for you.”

your trio exchanges a brief look — before bursting into fits of laughter.

“yeah, right!”

it’s no secret that love has found it’s way to the bottom of your list of priorities over the years. hell, if it’s even on the list at all! you’ve had your fair share of short-term boyfriends, casual flings and drunken hookups, sure, but none that you’ve truly cared about the way it always seems to be in the movies.

instead, you’ve learned to cope with the void of a significant other by filling it with things that actually matter — like your studies and social life. the truth is, with maturity came the realization that men (or boys, rather) are really just not worth your time and effort. they only ever end up disappointing you at the end of the day, so what’s the point? you figure a life of independence is definitely the way to go, and your friends couldn’t agree more.

“now let's pick up the pace!” mentally shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you grab the women by their wrists to march onward with a newfound sense of purpose. “i’m about two seconds away from falling asleep on the sidewalk if i don’t get my morning coffee, stat!” ㅤ

ㅤ ㅤㅤwalking into the café feels like reaching an oasis after days spent stranded in the desert.

you, shoko and utahime breathe a collective sigh of relief upon basking in the trademark scent of freshly roasted coffee beans wafting through the air. it’s quite busy for a wednesday morning, with students and professors bustling to and from the front counter for their fixes. most of the buttery leather sofas scattered around the space are occupied, and more books than usual are missing from the shelves that line the sage green walls.

in light of valentine’s day approaching soon, the space has been fittingly decorated with fairy lights, pink streamers, and candy heart posters. upon closer inspection, you realise some of the candy hearts have handwritten messages or doodles scrawled onto them instead of the usual one-liners you’re used to seeing. you also happen to notice the one stuck to the pastry display case has the words ‘hmu if u can pay off my student loans :p’ written on it, which pulls an amused chuckle from your lips.

“earth to y/n…”

shoko sends a playful poke to your ribs, reminding you that you’re next in line.

“hm? oh!”

you shuffle toward the register — only to find an unfamiliar face smiling at you.

oh.

it knocks the wind from your lungs for a moment.

you’ve been a regular at this café for years now, but it’s the first you’ve seen of this particular barista. he’s tall, with milky soft skin and stark white hair that falls over a pair of shades nestled precariously on the edge of his button nose. his cheekbones are sharp, lips pillowy and naturally curved into a smirk. a certain aura of boyish charm radiates from this stranger, and it’s now that you deduce: he must be new.

not to mention attractive. straight-out-of-the-movies, double-take-worthy levels of it.

and he seems to think the same of you, if the way he’s blatantly staring at you from across the counter is anything to go by.

“ya’ like the message?” he hums, tilting his sunglasses further down the bridge of his nose to reveal a pair of striking aquamarine irises. they sparkle in the warm lighting of the café as they shift between your own and the decoration that had distracted you earlier — and from this mannerism alone, something inside you stirs. this guy screams trouble.

“‘s funny, i guess.” you admit.

“glad to know someone appreciates my work.” leaning his forearms against the counter, he shoots you a kilowatt grin. “so what can i get for your gorgeous, indebted self today?”

the total lack of subtlety has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. “you discuss crippling debt with all your customers?”

the handsome stranger’s hair falls over his eyes when he laughs, a hand raising to rake through the silk-like strands. “mmm… nah,” he pauses, allowing even more cheek to seep into his flirtatious tone. “just the cute ones.”

“lucky me.” you drawl sarcastically. you feel his piercing gaze remain on you while you scan the menu. “i’ll take a cappuccino, thanks.”

“and your name?” he pops the cap of a sharpie open with his teeth, brows raised behind the rim of a takeaway cup. but something about the twinkle in his eyes and the mischief lacing his tone tells you he’s asking more for his own sake, rather than that of the order.

“monica.” you lie. answer.

“monica…” he repeats, scribbling away on the cup. you can see the name bouncing around the confines of his skull as he muses, “pretty name for a pretty girl.”

idiot.

you give him a tight-lipped smile, paying wordlessly before slipping away from the line and back to your friends. if you were to stay around the barista and his charms any longer, you think you’d start to rot from all the sugarcoated compliments.

“what took you so long?” utahime pries as soon as you reunite with her at the waiting area.

“don’t worry about it.” you murmur.

the younger girl shrugs, turning her attention back to what she was preoccupied with before your return. she and shoko seem to be in some kind of laid back conversation with another barista — who you recognize, of course, from the countless times you’ve visited this café and the handful of lectures you share on occasion.

“g’morning, suguru!” you greet him with a smile.

your classmate returns the pleasantries, and you jump into the conversation whilst waiting for your order to be made. it’s nothing too serious — brief mentions of mutual friends, upcoming exams, and a couple bantery comments thrown about — all foregrounded by the sound of cups clinking and milk steaming as the four of you will the time away.

“orders up for rachel, phoebe, and monica!”

suguru, catching onto the names that were just called out, gives your trio an exasperated shake of his head. “are you guys seriously still doing this?”

“oh, shut up.” shoko tsks, “it’s funny!”

“tell that to all my co-workers who think you’re going through an identity crisis every week.” the man chuckles.

utahime returns with three takeaway cups in hand, passing them out to you and shoko. as soon as you take a sip, you sigh contentedly at the well-made beverage. see, this happens to be one of the many reasons this particular café is your favorite spot on campus — aside from the homey atmosphere and friendly staff, of course — they know how to make a damn good cup of coffee.

“did you guys change the recipe or something?” you ask suguru. eyes wide, you take another gulp of your cappuccino. “this is even better than usual!”

“enjoying yet another one of my creations, hm?”

the stranger from before appears behind suguru before he’s even able to formulate a reply, flashing you a second trademark smile.

“really laying it on thick with the praises this morning, pretty. might make me blush if ya’ keep at it.”

you scoff, “that’s rich coming from you.”

“heh, guilty.”

you’ve never met anyone so forward as the man in front of you. with the way his eyes haven’t stopped glittering since you’d first come into contact with them, you’d think he’s been harboring some kind of secret crush on you for years, as opposed to the two of you only having met each other mere minutes before. you wonder how on earth someone could be so unabashed toward a total stranger — not to mention the fact that he doesn’t even know your name! or, your real name, to be precise.

“dude, stop hitting on all my friends.” suguru tsks, shooting an unimpressed look toward his co-worker.

“only when you stop being friends with beautiful women.” he counters playfully.

“stuck between three chronic liars and a serial flirt…” the raven-haired man goes on to mumble, though the smile remaining on his face suggests his amusement at it all despite the sarcasm that drips from his next words. “happy wednesday to me.”

you, shoko and utahime laugh in unison, while the newcomer’s brows knit together in puzzlement.

“chronic liars?”

now it’s suguru’s turn to let out a snicker. he takes a moment to explain your trio’s odd tradition to the befuddled man beside him.

“wait…” he shakes his head, turning to you once more. “so your name isn’t monica?”

“nope.” you confirm.

“huh.” he chuckles, shaking his head to himself. the tradition itself sounds awfully pointless to him — but that’s not to say he doesn’t see the fun in it. “what is it, then?” he asks.

“wouldn’t you love to know?” you tease.

you could make a fun game out of this, you think.

“yeah.” he replies wholeheartedly, “i would, actually.”

the stranger leans his weight against the counter, as if his body were subconsciously trying to close the gap between the two of you. as if your name were the most coveted secret he’d die without knowing. and in this moment, he thinks, it just might be.

“hmm—”

ding! ding! ding!

alas, the campus bell gongs; signalling the start of your next class and cutting your deliberation short.

“guess we’ll have to save it for another time.”

shoko and utahime are conveniently wrapping up their conversation with suguru on the side, and you take this as the perfect opportunity to slip away.

“i’ll see you around…” your gaze drifts from the stranger’s twinkling eyes, past the blush creeping down his neck, right until you reach the name tag pinned over his chest. “satoru.”

and just like that, you’re gone. ㅤ

ㅤ ㅤㅤsatoru gojo is fucked.

undeniably, irreversibly fucked.

it’s been two days since his first introduction to you and, already, his mind is stuck in some sort of permanent frenzy.

nothing but thoughts of you, with your playful smile and addicting gaze. you, who smelled of vanilla and warm laundry and everything good and right in this world. the way you’d bounced ever-so-lightly on your toes as you savored the taste of his cappuccino — the one he’d made sure to steam to perfection, when he’s usually receiving warnings from his manager for burning the milk every other day. the way your hair bounced effortlessly with every step you took. the way your jeans hugged your figure in all the right places.

and the way you said his name… god— the way it sounded falling from your rose-petaled lips, in your silken voice…

satoru could get drunk off the thought of it alone.

and maybe he is; wide awake at the crack of dawn, staring up at his ceiling in a weak attempt to will away these thoughts of you that never seem to take a breather… perhaps drunk would be the only word to describe it.

“tch,” he grunts, splaying his long limbs against the cold sheets. “feel like a fuckin’ teenager.”

how could a single interaction affect him this damn much? and to think he never even got your name!

admittedly, this predicament is odd, even for satoru. he can’t remember the last time he’s been so irrationally hooked, so delusional, over a woman — if at all. the feeling courses through his body like a shot of espresso (ha.) and before he knows it, he’s reaching for his phone and giving in to the devil on his shoulder. ㅤ

thot daughter • 02:50 AM

sugubooo <3 my bestest friend in the whole wide worlddd

delivered

ㅤ satoru stares at the dimly lit screen with bated breath. waiting… waiting… waiting… until— ㅤ

gay son • 03:01 AM

?

read

ㅤ the man damn near jumps out of his covers upon receiving the notification; a premature victory. ㅤ

thot daughter • 03:01 AM

oh shit you’re actually up

gay son • 03:01 AM

phys exam tomorrow don’t tell me you forgot?

read

ㅤ gay son • 03:05 AM

satoru…

thot daughter • 03:06 AM

FUCK

gay son • 03:06 AM

🤦‍♂️

thot daughter • 03:07 AM

whatever, more pressing issue at hand rn

gay son • 03:07 AM

hm?

thot daughter • 03:07 AM

remember that friend of yours who dropped by the café the other day 👀

read

ㅤ gay son • 03:08 AM

no. before you even ask, it’s a no.

thot daughter • 03:08 AM

CMON MAN PLEAAASE 😫🙏

gay son • 03:08 AM

no.

thot daughter • 03:09 AM

JUST HER NUMBER PLEASE I’LL DO ANYTHING

gay son • 03:09 AM

she’s not interested in dating rn, toru.

thot daughter • 03:09 AM

i’m tryna change that 🧎‍♂️

gay son • 03:10 AM

no.

read

ㅤ gay son • 03:11 AM

besides, she told me specifically not to give anything away to you… not even her name 🤐

read

ㅤ satoru perks up even more at that.

“if she’s doin’ what i think she’s doin’…” he muses to himself, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. and though he doesn’t voice his next words aloud, he instead feels them in the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

then this just got a whole lot more fun. ㅤ

thot daughter • 03:12 AM

all the more reason to give it to me, no?

gay son • 03:12 AM

…

thot daughter • 03:12 AM

cmonnn suguuuuu

gay son • 03:13 AM

🙂↔️

thot daughter • 03:13 AM

i could make her so happy >:(

gay son • 03:13 AM

it’s giving desperate.

thot daughter • 03:14 AM

i can’t relate to desperation 🥱

gay son • 03:14 AM

ha.

read

ㅤ with it becoming more and more apparent that even his best friend wouldn’t help him get closer to you, satoru flings his phone to the bedside table with a dramatic hmpf. he’d expected the conversation with suguru to end in a successful retrieval of your contact details, to satiate even the tiniest bit of the behemoth craving in his gut, but it only added fuel to the fire.

… so he was on your radar.

enough to make you bring it up to your friends — and, better yet, to rope them into your bit.

the thought sends an all-too-familiar smirk to play at the man’s lips. after all, he’s never been one to shy away from a challenge. they only entice him all the more, as a matter of fact. especially when they look like you.

so it’s in this moment that satoru gojo decides: he will indulge in this little game of yours — and, if the prize happens to be even another crumb of your attention, he will stop at nothing to win. ㅤ

thot daughter • 03:30 AM

fine, i’ll get her name AND number myself then 😇

delivered

ㅤ a stupid grin graces the barista’s features as his head hits the pillow at last, dozing off to nothing but thoughts of you — his newfound addiction — and a promise murmured to bare walls and the hardened side of an otherwise empty bed.

“you’re so on, pretty.” ㅤ

© GUMIFY 2024 do not steal, replicate, or modify my work.

[kings-highway]

some safe-for-work headcanons regarding how they might of gone about having sex for the first time for some of my favouritr haikyuu ships:

daisuga: look you know these bitches had it scheduled. not like a meticulous planned thing, but it was definitely something they knew was going to happen in advance. Like they talked about it, agreed they both wanted it, and then 3 weeks later Suga's parents go away for the weekend and they know like a solid week in advance that their "hang out" on Saturday evening is basically exclusively so they can have sex. They're very prepared. This also probably makes that week of training super annoying for the team bc they cant figure out why their captains are being SO overly giggly like you are seventeen/eighteen year old men wtf is going on.

iwaoi: i've always thought they were probably way more nervous than any of their friends assumed and definitely did not have sex as early as people thought. like mattsun and makki both constantly tease them in a way that insinuates they're actively having sex but they probably didnt actually do it until like... the last few months of high school. They were both just nervous! Iwa was very afraid of rushing things and doing it "wrong," and Oikawa wasnt even sure what doing it "right" would be so they had like 6 false-starts before they actually managed it.

ushiten: dorm living is not condusive to intimacy so when for the first time in like 8 months since they started dating that they have a confirmed evening with a locked dorm alone they end up making out for just a crazy amount of time. Tendou is too nervous to actually move anything forward because he's too anxious over the possibility of rejection but he keeps making these weird half-insinuations like "haha I cant believe nobody's going to be back for another four hours... we could do anything and get away with it... isnt that so funny... like nobody would know if we were making out or having sex or just reading a book... haha... isnt that crazy... me and you..." and he's all weird and twitchy about it until Ushijima tells him he doesn't think the idea of them having sex is crazy at all and then it is on immediately.

kuroken: highkey, kuroo probably lays out like a whole romantic, corny ass evening with candles and rose petals and is prepared to have a whole long conversation about being "ready" and Kenma just sort of rolls his eyes and is like "have you finished talking? this is Too Much. I need you to understand this is Too Much. Oh my god I love you but WOW." (it works anyway and Kenma is sufficient wooed).

tsukkiyama: this one might be a little out there but I genuinely think they're the most likely to have it happen by accident, or in a spontaneous moment of opportunity. Like they both intend to just take advantage of the empty house with only a bit of making out and then suddenly they're losing their clothes and it's like "we'll have a conversation about it tomorrow, im sure."

kagehina: okay this one is more stupid but I imagine after they've been dating a while Hinata is like "you know what, im ready to take the next step" but Kageyama cannot read ppl so Hinata's somewhat obvious attempts at seduction go entirely over his head, and Hinata is getting increasingly frustrated and dramatic and trying really really hard to get Kageyama to realize what he wants and it ends up causing a fight between them because Kageyama thinks Hinata is being weird and Hinata thinks Kageyama is being intentionally distant and eventually Kageyama blows up and is like "Oh my god if you want to break up or something just say so!!!" and Hinata is like "Oh my GOD I dont want to break up with you I want to have sex with you!!!" and of course that shuts everyone up and unfortunately Yachi is probably also there and wants to die.

[wannabanauthor]

Sometimes I think about how Buck waited two weeks to call Tommy

And ask for a tour, then was jealous that Eddie and Tommy had been hanging out the entire time.

Like, sir, you too could have hung out with Tommy a lot sooner. Did you see the way he smiled at you when you put your hand on his shoulder? Or the reciprocal touch after you walked away.

That's probably why Tommy was studying him so hard during the tour. The cute firefighter had seemed into him after the rescue but then waited 2 whole weeks to actually contact him.

That whole tour Tommy was trying to get a read on Buck and to slightly urge him into confessing the real reason why he was there. Little did Tommy know that he himself was the reason Buck wanted the tour.

Also, why didn't Buck follow up with Tommy about that beer the day after the Vegas fight? Anytime between the tour and the basketball game, he could have simply reached out to Tommy and say "Hey, want to hang out?" It worked for Eddie.

Buck wanted Tommy's attention so badly that he went the introvert approach "let him come to me and make the first move because I cannot possibly do it even though I invite guys to hang out with me all the time".

You know what? Now I need a fic of Buck actually trying to hang out with Tommy after the Bathena rescue. I want to see Buck essentially date a man without knowing he's dating a man. Then meanwhile Tommy is a mess on the inside because this guy keeps asking him out but doesn't make a move.

Then maybe one time, Tommy takes Buck to a gay bar, but Buck is Buck, and doesn't realize it or doesn't think it's strange because he's an "ally". Until a hot guy flirts with Tommy, and Buck's instinct is to "protect his friend from unsavory characters" so he kisses Tommy in a fake dating way to get the strange guy to leave them alone.

But only problem is that Buck realizes he liked the kiss. He really liked the kiss. And he sees the same emotion in Tommy's eyes, and doesn't know how to deal, so he goes outside to get air.

And Tommy thinks he's fucked up, so he goes outside and apologizes to Buck for putting him in this situation in the first place because he was trying so hard to get a read on Buck because he was getting mixed signals but also didn't mean to push Buck into territorial kissing him.

And Buck is like "no no homo, I'm an ally" with the fist pump, and Tommy thinks he's adorable and wants to kiss him again, but he stops himself, but he's so close that Buck can't help himself and pulls Tommy in for another kiss.

[manikas-whims]

“will you be able to calm down if i tie your hands together?”

— Part 1/? of turning Xavier's questionable dialogues into short fics.

It was over.

You knew you were fucked the moment you saw a genuine flash of annoyance in Xavier’s usually serene, midnight blue eyes. In your defense, you were always messing with him, poking and prodding as you pleased because it was just so fun seeing his varied reactions and attempts to hold back his blush. And you thought it was alright to do so because he let you. He always let you.

But oh how wrong you had been.

One minute you were poking his neck with feather light touches of your finger tips, the next your wrists were bound together in front of you with an old scarf that had been lying on your coffee table for only god knows how many weeks.

Your eyes widened in realization of the situation you were in, and you fidgeted your hands in hopes of loosening the knot. “Xa–Xavier..”

The man in question tightened the knot ever so slightly in response, his lips curved up into a stern smile. “I’d warned you. Remember?”

Of course you remembered. How he had warned you that he'd tie up your hands if you don't stop with the teasing. Plenty of times in fact. You'd just never considered the possibility of him actually doing it. Quite literally at that!

You watched him scoot closer to you on the couch. Gone was the adorable bunny you loved pinching and patting. In this moment, he appeared nothing short of a lethal predator slowly prancing towards the unassuming and docile prey that you were.

You scooted away until your back hit the armrest and there was no room left to escape. You grin sheepishly. “Is it too late for an apology?”

He scoffed, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Playing innocent now, are you?”

You nod meekly, your cheeks heating up. “Yes, um..I'm sorry??”

Unfortunately that didn't work at all.

“Since you're so free with your hands, how about I exercise some liberty as well?” He grabbed your tied wrists with one palm and lifted them over your head, his face now leaning closer to your own. His other palm slid along your neck, fingers stroking the skin torturously slowly. “How would you feel if I did this regularly?”

Your lips parted yet no words came out. And you tried to find some semblance of calm with deep intakes of breaths. “Xavier I..”

He ignored the plea in your voice, letting his palm go higher up your jaw, running his long fingers along the plumpness of your lips. “Understand that there are consequences to your actions. Dire consequences.”

Xavier inched his face closer and your breath hitched, eyes fluttering closed of their own accord, anticipating those dire consequences he had been forewarning you about.

To your surprise, nothing happened for a few moments. And you wondered if this was how those small animals in documentaries felt when they were toyed with before being devoured by a beast.

You felt a tugging sensation upon your cheek and let out a soft sound, your eyes shooting open to realize the tugging was a result of Xavier's fingers on your cheek.

He pinched the cheek just hard enough to make you wince before letting go and chuckled triumphantly. “Just messing with you.”

Then he smoothly scooted away and picked up his book as if the events of the last few minutes hadn't occurred at all. As if you hadn't witnessed his personality switching at all. As if the entire thing had existed merely in your fantasies.

And when your breaths finally calmed a little, you realized your wrists were still tied up. You began fidgeting your hands again, your captive fingers helplessly trying to reach for the knot. “Xavier you! At least untie my hands!”

You only received another chuckle response.

this is very self-indulgent..Xavier Girlies look forward to more of these..✌️😆

» MASTERLIST «

[yttd-weekly]

IT BEGINS!! sara and joe for week 1 :3 what are they talking about? you decide

[crossbackpoke-check]

bring a friend home today! adopt, don’t shop 🐶@metroitdetroitanimals 6.28.2022

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Call You Clingy So You Distance Yourself PT. 3 | Hyungline

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Suicide

Pt1, Pt2 Maknaeline

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BANGCHAN|

You ran your fingers through your hair as you walked up to your front door.

The past week had already been stressful enough. After arriving at the airport, you realized that somewhere between you getting off the plane and getting to your parents' car your phone had fallen out of your pocket. You had to attend a funeral, your flight home had been pushed back by a day, and you still had a shit ton to do before you moved. Not to mention it ate at you the entire week that you were gone all you could think about was the argument you and Chris had.

Overall you felt absolutely shitty and you just wanted to crash.

You unlocked your door and slipped your shoes off and walked into the kitchen and set your purse down. You had left your luggage in the foyer, and were contemplating how nasty it would be just to leave your things in there until you unpacked at your new place.

You made your way into your room and flicked on your light and gave out a quiet yelp when you noticed someone in your bed.

Your heart slowed slightly when you realized that it was Christopher in your bed, hugging the bear he bought you in Europe when he was on tour.

He was curled in a fetal position, and knowing his nature, you knew he must have been staying in your room the entire week you were gone.

Your heartbeat sped up as you walked over to him, knowing what confrontation awaited.

He whimpered quietly in his sleep. Sadly.

"Christopher." You whispered, shaking his shoulder slightly. He whimpered again and you could swear you heard him say your name.

He must be having a nightmare.

"Baby." You said shaking him awake, harder this time.

Chris startled awake and looked at you. He stared for a moment as if you weren't real.

"Y-Y/N?" He asked quietly.

"Hey-"

His chest collided with yours as he pulled you into an embrace, and you immediately felt his tears wet your shoulder.

"I-I'm s-sorry b-babe. I didn't m-mean any of it- I didn't pl-please d-don't l-leave me. I'll do any-anything. I'll qui-quit wo-working so I won-won't be stressed an-anymore. A-Anything I-I mean it-"

"Love, shhh. I'm not leaving you." You said as you stroked his hair. It felt gross, and he smelled a little stale, and he looked worn out overall. You could tell that he probably hadn't moved much all this week.

"Did you really stay in my bed waiting for me to come back?" You asked quietly. He let out a whine into your shoulder refusing to let you go.

"Chris, I promise I'm not leaving you."

"But the boxes..."

You chuckled and stroked his hair again. "I'm moving, yes. But not away from you. The neighborhood I live in isn't the safest, and I figured you would like it better if I moved closer to the dorms, so you didn't have to travel as far in the opposite direction of your home." Chris still held onto you, and you could feel the downturn of his lips pressed into your shoulder like a soft kiss.

"You didn't answer my calls...I thought you broke up with me..."

You sighed and pushed him away from you slightly and you could see his heart sink a little until you kissed the edge of his lips, his slight stubble exfoliating your own.

"While I will admit, what you said wasn't very kind of you...I know that isn't you." You murmured, caressing his cheek. His brown eyes were wide and sad but filled with hope. "I understand you were stressed, and I understand I can be clingy at times, but that's only because I have so much love and affection for you, I have to get it out in a physical way. Or else I might actually explode." You giggle as you pinch his cheek.

His eyes widen slightly, and he opens his mouth to speak but you press your finger to his lips.

"Let me finish. I didn't answer your calls because I lost my phone at the airport when I went home. My cousin's spouse took her life so I went to go attend the funeral. I wasn't informed until a few days before, so I went to the studio to tell you I was leaving." You let out a breath. "I also wanted to ask you while I was there is you could help me finish packing since I have to be moved out in two days."

Chris looked at you. "I'm sorry for your loss, baby. I'm also so-"

"Shhhhhh." You said placing a quick yet super soft kiss on his lips. "Thank you for your condolences. But don't apologize for snapping at me Chris. I already forgave you the minute you did it."

His bottom lip trembled, and he started to cry, little hiccups coming through as he still apologized, even though you knew he meant it when you said he didn't. He repeatedly apologized.

"You're too good for me." He said once he calmed down, his quiet sniffles and hiccups infrequent.

"And you're too handsome for me." You said as you kissed the tip of his nose.

"You're beautiful though. Way more than me." He said staring holes into you. "When we get married and have kids I want them to look exactly like you."

You laughed and shook your head. "They need your smile though, which I have yet seen you give since I arrived." Your voice held mock sternness as you tried to look serious but ended up letting out a loud chuckle.

He was finally able to give you and actual smile, and his adorable little giggle finally peeked through. You poked your pinkie in his dimple and he giggled again.

You ruffled his hair once and then made a face.

"You need to go shower, love." You said your nose wrinkling.

He pouted and wrapped his hands around you, laying his head on your stomach. "Mmmm, just a couple more minutes. Let me hold you."

You sighed, a smile on your face as you looked down at the boy you knew you would spend the rest of your life with. You scratched his head affectionately.

"Who is the clingy one now?"

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MINHO|

"Y/N!" Minho had been running around for almost an hour. His voice was hoarse and the wind was biting at him through his coat as he ran. Knowing your stubborn ass you had probably only left the hotel in a thin jacket, with one or two layers at most.

He took a second to catch his breath and looked around. "Y/N!"

He was about to start off in a different direction when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Did you find her?" Minho asked when he picked up a call from Jisung. All the members of both Stray Kids and TWICE were looking for you.

"Sort of? She asked me to go pick her up from in front of the Louvre - she said she lost track of time but she's too scared to-"

Minho started running again. "Thank you! I'll call you when I have her-" He hung up and felt his legs move faster than he thought was humanly possible.

Please God...Universe...whoever please just please let her be okay.

He arrived and he looked around for you. When he didn't see you he started to panic until he noticed your figure swamped in one of is hoodies hunched over on a bench dozing off.

"Y/N!"

You perked your head up and saw your boyfriend running towards you, his long coat nearly flying off his shoulders.

He stopped in front of you and you braced yourself for him to start yelling at you after he caught his breath.

But instead of yelling at you his pants turned into desperate weeps.

"Minho-"

He fell down on his knees and you quickly joined him on the ground.

"You-you scared me I tho-thought..." He couldn't even look at you.

"I'm sorry Minho, I didn't mean to...I..." Your voice was wobbly. You hadn't ever seen Minho cry before in the entire time you had been together. You didn't know how to comfort him, or what to say to get his cries to stop.

It made you want to cry how vulnerable he sounded. How weak and broken.

"Its not safe here. Anywhere. Thats why I was so scared." He whispered looking up at you, his eyes rimmed red. "One of the girls said they couldn't find you and I panicked. I've been running around for almost three hours."

You felt a pang of guilt strike you in your heart.

"I-I'm so-sorry..." You began to tear up as the pain of being mad at Minho seemed to hit you like a ton of bricks. You missed your boyfriend. "I'm sorry for being clingy too. I thought you wanted to be alone so I hung out with the girls...but I felt like maybe they'd think I was clingy too so I thought I would just spend today alone-"

"Y/N stop. First off the girls will never and I mean never find you clingy." He wiped his face and chuckled, a small smile forming on his face. "We were in a meeting last week and they were playing rock paper scissors over who gets to marry you. I told them that you were mine and Tzuyu said 'did you guys hear something?'"

He licked his lips and took a breath. "Secondly you don't need to apologize, Jagiya...all of this...this was my fault. I shouldn't have called you clingy. Because your clinginess...its something I love. Adore even. You know how to respect boundaries when needed as well. But it's obvious I have work to do on that, because I crossed a line I never should have crossed. So I am so, so, sorry Y/N. I'm sorry that I can't manage my frustrations in a way that won't hurt you. And I'm sorry that I'm horrible at communicating. I'm sorry that I say things that never should come out of my mouth."

You look at your boyfriend and the sincerity in the words his is saying. You swallow as he continues.

"I'm sorry that I cause more trouble than it's worth sometimes. That I make things a little more stressful than they need to be as well. I'm sorry that I can't express my love in the way you need either." He takes a shaky breath and he looks at you; your hear thumping in your chest at his apology.

"I love you. I love you. So much, Y/N. But I struggle to express that love and affection properly...which isn't fair to you." He lets go of your hand and you instinctively reach out for the warmth of it again. He lifts up one of his knees from the ground.

"So please be patient with me. Be patient with me so you understand the depth of my love for you. It is going to take a long time...if I had to guess..."

He pulled out a navy blue velvet box from his coat pocket. You watched as he opened it and a dainty but elegant ring was placed in there.

"It will the take the rest of my life to be able to show you." His voice trailed off and he trailed his eyes up to yours as he waited for you to say something...anything.

"I love you Y/N L/N."

You shook your head. Minho felt his heart start to shatter until you giggled and wiped away your tears.

"You idiot, it's Lee. Not L/N. Lee." You held your hand out and Minho slid the ring on your finger, his own trembling.

"I'm sorry I ruined your elaborate proposal."

Minho cocked his head as he helped you up, pulling you as close as humanly possible to his side so he could wrap you up in his coat as well.

"How did you know about that?"

"Jisung told me when I called him earlier..."

Minho chuckled as you guys walked along.

"Thats why we should probably wait to tell him about our engagement." You admired your ring with a bright smile.

Minho shook his head. "I'm gonna tell him when we get back. Because I want the world to know."

You looked at each other and immediately bursted out laughing because you both had the same thought.

"And that will be the quickest way for them to know."

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CHANGBIN|

Changbin had sped past three red lights to get here.

He would not lose you. He couldn't. The past couple of weeks had been grueling for him.

Your presence was something he was missing in his life. And that furthermore showed him how much he needed you.

How desperate he was to keep you.

He pulled into the lot illegally and ran into the small coffee shop. All the memories he had with you flooded his mind, since this was you and his favorite coffee shop. He had just been so busy that you guys never had time to come here anymore. It was more than half an hour away from your house and his dorm. And even further from the studio.

He scanned the small area and almost immediately pinpointed you with another person. A guy.

He was in a nice outfit as well. Very clean and put together. Lean and tall.

He watched as you both got up and hugged each other and watched as you smiled brightly at the guy and laughed at something he said.

"Alright I'll see you Wednes-"

"No! You will not see her Wednesday!" Changbin said as he pulled you from the guys embrace. "Listen, I don't know who you think you are but I'm her boyfriend! And she hasn't properly broken up with me yet so you can't have her! And if even if she did I wouldn't allow it!" He stared the guy down. Or rather up.

Damn he's even taller than he looked.

"Y/N-ie did you not tell-"

"I'm the only one who can call her that! Well...me and the guys but you're not the guys so you can't." Changbin mumbled angrily like a frustrated toddler.

"Changbin! Quit being such a fucking dumbass!" You said smacking him above the head lightly. You turn to guy and apologize profusely. "I'm sorry, Bin is a little...possessive." A nervous laugh escaped you. "Like a Chihuahua...but not the kind quiet sweet ones more like the ones who have a bark bigger than themselves." You said looking at your boyfriend with frustration in the lines of your face.

He looked down as you apologized to the guy once more.

"It's okay Y/N-ie...I think this is a memorable meeting. I'll definitely bring it up in my speech when you guys get married." He laughed. "I'm Justin Kim. Y/N's brother-in-law." He held his hand out and Changbin looked between the two of you. Justin had a smile on his face while you were looking at Changbin with annoyance.

"Ah! I'm so sorry...uh..."

"I think I'm older than you but I didn't grow up using honorifics so you can just call me Justin."

Changbin bowed and apologized, but held his hand out to shake.

"My wife and I are moving here settling down here soon. She's back home but will be here next week with the last of our things. She was stationed here for a little bit when she was in the military and loved it and since her only sister found love here and doesn't have much time to come see her since she's dating an idol, she thought it would be nice to move here. I agreed since it is beautiful, and this where our family is." He motioned his head towards you.

"Although she might be a little upset that I met you before she did. Especially since she'll be entrusting you too take care of her little sister...although I feel like its more so because she's quite a big fan of you guys. Ever since Y/N-ie said she was dating an idol she's been keeping up with culture and your band, so she can better understand."

Justin smiled and looked over at you. "I'll uh...let you guys talk though. Y/N-ie I'll have your sister call you when I get home. She might be a little flippy floppy though because she went through the stock of pregnancy cravings I bought her." He hugged you one last time and pulled Changbin into a hug as well before walking off.

"Changbin are you really that idiotic?" You looked at your boyfriend and he tried to sputter out a response, but you interrupted him befroe he could form coherent words. "I think you are, I fear." You let out a defeated sigh as you slunk back into your chair. You looked tired.

"Jiwon, can you grab me my usual. And do you remember Binnie's?" Changbin turned to see a barista nod at you and start to prepare your order. He sat down across from you and quickly realized that he was mistaken about a lot of things.

"Binnie I would never break up with you. I may break your head open because sometimes my God I want to slap you upside it so hard, but I would never break your heart." The sigh you let out was deafening. "If you were so jealous about me talking and hanging out with Minho so much why didn't you tell me? You really think flirting with a barista to make me jealous is a good idea, babe? Really?" Jiwon placed two drinks in front of you guys. "Chan told me. I think he spotted it pretty quickly, and noticed how you were turning down her advances when I wasn't around. Also, rather rudely too apparently - because Seo Changbin what do mean to tell me when Chris said you made a gagging noise at the poor girl!"

Changbin's eyes widened, and his lip popped out in a small pout. "I'm sorry Y/N."

"It's okay Binnie. But there isn't a need to be jealous baby. I'm not leaving you for Minho, he's just an extremely close friend. I'm not leaving you for anyone else period. And I'm sure as hell not going on any dates. I had to dress nicely because we were doing a photoshoot." You gestured to the cafe you guys were currently sitting in. "Justin and I are going to be co-owners. I thought it would be nice to have a location closer to where we live so we can go more often, and that one little restaurant closed down so I thought it would be a good opportunity." A soft smile painted your face. "And it's partially selfish reasons...I can't help but think of us when I think of this place."

Changbin's heart swelled with affection. So much affection that it hurt him.

"So while I have been upset with you for the past three weeks I'm over it Binnie. I miss you so much." Changbin got up and moved next to you.

"You mean it?"

You chuckled and placed a kiss on his lips. "100%." You said connecting them again, a little bit more passionately, but pulling back when you felt a mass amount of messages come through your phone, and then it immediately started ringing. Changbin pouted as he stared at your lips as they turned into a nervous grin.

"Although...you might have a shit show in store when it comes to my older sister."

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HYUNJIN|

You sat with Hyunjin the couch as you two watched your favorite series together. Today was your yearlong anniversary. You had been in bright spirits for the occasion as you guys went out and did things together.

Hyunjin slowly ran his long fingers through your hair, and he felt you slowly dozing off.

"Baby..." Hyunjin whsipered, "Are you sleepy?"

"Hmm, just a little..."

"Can we talk?" Hyunjin paused the show, not giving you a choice.

You sat up and you felt your heart thump in your chest.

"Yeah we need to."

Hyunjin nodded. "You go first."

"No you"

You both spoke at the same time.

"Marry me-"

"We should break up-"

You looked at Hyunjin dumbfounded and he looked at you with utter digust.

"First off... that is utterly disgusting that you would even consider breaking up with me? What are you some sadist? Deriving pleasure from my pain and humiliation?" He said putting a hand to his chest dramtically.

You looked at him with wide eyes. "W-Well are you some sort of crazy person?! What the hell do you mean marry me?!"

Hyunjin pouted. "Well you can call me crazy all you want I'm being serious." He ran a hand through his brown bangs. "We've been together a year. And I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life. And I know for a fact you do because how the heck could you not want to marry me? I mean we'll quite literally be the most beautiful couple God has ever put on this earth." He said rolling his eyes in a joking manner.

You didn't see amused, rather your lip was shaking slightly and your eyes watering.

Hyunjin bit his cheek and pulled out a little ring from his pocket.

"It's a little cliche, I know. And some will probably say too soon. But I know what I want." He said quietly.

He took a breath and spoke slowly, switching to his native language.

"Cling to me Y/N. For the rest of your life. Ask me how you look. Let my eyes cling to you when I admire you. Let my words cling to you when I say just how beautiful you are. Cling yourself to me every night before we fall asleep, and let me cling to you every morning when we wake up. Let yourself cling onto me when you feel like you aren't enough, and let me cling onto you so I can show the world that you are enough-that you are more than enough; and you will always be more than enough. Let me cling to you in the times where I feel you need reassurance, and I'll let you cling to me the times where you feel like I'm not sufficient enough. We may not be perfect but Y/N no couple is. I don't care what people think about us. We can be perfectly imperfect together. I'll let you cling to me so those hateful words have no room to stick. I'll let you cling to me so everyone around us knows that I am not me without you. That you're the one who completes me. Cling to me so tightly that if God forbid you ever leave you would take everything of me with so no o that no one else could ever cling to me. Because I won't let anyone else do that. No matter how much they claim to know what is best for me, they don't. Because if they did, they would know that it's you. And it will always be you. Thats why I'm so sure of this."

He slid the ring on your finger, as you watched him admire it on your hands. He didn't look up as he murmured quietly.

"Cling to me Y/N...I'm begging you."

You looked at Hyunjin and felt a few tears fall onto your hand as he held it with both of his own.

"You...you knew?"

Hyunjin shook his head. "Not when I said what I said. But Y/N I swear I didn't mean it in a mean way." He looked up at you helplessly. "In retrospect now I realize they meant it in a vicious way but...I genuinely thought that clinginess was a good thing. Isn't that how it's supposed to be when you love someone? Aren't you supposed to want to be with them?"

His brown eyes searched your face. "Because that's how it is for me. How it will always be. I don't want it to be any other way."

You felt your eyes prick up with tears.

"Did you really mean it when you said you want to break up?" He whimpered.

You shook your head aggressively. "No, Hyunjin no- I was just feeling insecure. I see how everyone reacts at us and sometimes I feel like I'll never be accepted as being your girlfriend."

"Fiancée." He corrected. "If they won't accept you as my girlfriend then I'll make them accept you as my fiancée. And if they want to be asses after that than tough luck because if anyone dares to not accept you as my wife than I'll find a way to deal with them." He said in complete seriousness.

You couldn't help but laugh as you moved your hands to cup Hyunjin's cheeks.

"Hyunjin I haven't said yes." You said quietly.

He gives you a determined look. "But you will say yes..."

He waited patiently for you to say yes.

"Jagiya. Three letters. Y-E-S. You just have to move your mouth to say it." He said stubbornly.

You shook your head.

"I'm not going to say yes Hyunjin."

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest but instead you kissed him lightly, resting your forehead against his own.

"You won't say yes?" He whined.

"Nope."

"Why not...do you not want to say yes? Can you give me a straight answer Jagiya? Because I won't accept it until you say no. Until then I'll assume you are just being stubborn."

You smiled as your eyes met. Hyunjin looked at you waiting for you're answer. Which was so much more than a yes.

"I'll cling to you Hyunjin. Always. As long as you promise to do the same."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@hardladytale @yaorzu-blog @viola-celine @jiminssluttyminx @pearl-monkeys @wave2ivy @keshet2k @dreammix88 @mysticalhumano @hannahlolo @periodpoops @m1rroh @seungmyynie @beebee18 @theodorenottgf @qrstarz @xocandyy @stay-tiny-things @vixensss @bo-fairykim @conwunder @parisanmorovati @lovesunshinefelix @hyunjins-dimples @ka0ila @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @chuuyaobsessed @dollschan @katexstay @lisunny2 @abovenyx @adrisiwiris @dontwannaexist @minsungsthirdwheel @ray0magdalene @maaayytyroshka @ddiidi

(if I missed you I'm so so sorry <3)

[fangirl-dot-com]

✉️Divorce of Convenience

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff/Mischief/Miscommunication Summary: Oscar as your first everything: love, boyfriend, husband. You never had to go through any type of heartbreak ever. With Taylor Swift's new album, you yearn for a deeper connection with the songs. What's a better way than to ask your husband for a weekend divorce?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Oscar knew something was up the moment you started smirking behind your phone as you lounged on the couch. His hand was mindlessly rubbing one of your ankles that was currently propped up on his lap. There was a week in between Monaco and Canada, which gave him time to come straight home to you. 

Photographs littered the walls of your home. Some from the very early days of grade school, where you and Oscar first met. And then some of grades 9 through 12 and Oscar’s karting and Formula racing, which marked the first four years of your relationship. The engagement pictures and wedding pictures followed a year later. 

There were a couple of pictures from 2023, signifying Oscar’s first year in McLaren. There were few from this year, as Oscar got busier, but you managed to pick some out to print. However, the Aussie really didn’t notice them at first, too busy wrapping you in his arms when he got home from the double-header. 

Another giggle made him actually look at you, eyebrow raised. 

“What’s got you all smiley?” 

You huffed as you put your phone down in your lap. 

“Taylor Swift came out with a new album, and people on Tik Tok are hilarious.”  

He rolled his eyes. He knew that there was more to it. 

“And?” 

“I’m just thinking about how if we ever went through a breakup, I could relate to some of the songs on a deeper level.” 

You sat up to scooch closer to your husband, now touching shoulders as you showed him a video of a woman crying to one of the new songs. Oscar was having a hard time realizing why this was funny to you.

“What if we got a divorce?” 

Oh. 

Oscar whipped his head toward you, hair swishing. “You want to do what?” 

You huffed again, lightly rolling your eyes. “A divorce for like just a bit, so that I can really get to Taylor’s level.” 

Oscar’s head reeled back. “Why on earth would you want to do that?” 

He was getting a bit self-conscious. Was this your way of silently telling him that you weren’t satisfied being married to him? Was he away too much? Were you bored without him here? Did you want to come to more races with him?  

“Ossie, it’s not what you think,” you said as you waved your hands around. Your husband crossed his arms, not entirely impressed. 

“What I’m thinking is that you’re not happy with me anymore.” 

You wanted to melt into the couch as his sad expression. There wasn’t much difference between him and his new “brother” Leo in terms of puppy eyes. You gently put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. 

“Oscar you should know better. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” 

He pouted slightly. “Then why do you want to get a ‘divorce’ if you’re still happy.” 

You looked down at your lap as you took your hands away from his face. Your fingers started to pick at the skin around your nails. Now that you thought about it, your idea was childish and dramatic. Why would you want to get a divorce when you were happily married to the love of your life. 

“Hey.” It was Oscar’s turn to turn your head to look at him. “Just tell me. I’m having a hard time understanding.” 

“You were my first everything, you know this. I’ve never gone through a bad breakup or heartbreak, and sometimes I wish that I could experience that.” 

He gave you a look. “I understand.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You do?” 

A nod was your answer. “It’s a part of growing up that you didn’t get to go through.” 

Nervous giggles fell through your lips, which turned into actual laughing. You fell forward into Oscar’s lap, making him laugh with you. When all giggles and laughs had subsided, he gave you a quick peck on your lips. 

The McLaren driver started to calculate things in his head. “Saur, you want to get a divorce, to listen to some songs for a few hours, and then?” 

You bumped him lightly with your shoulder. “Not an actual divorce Ossie. Just, if lots of people believe that we’re getting a divorce then it’s technically true?” 

Even you didn’t sound 100 percent sure. 

Oscar turned his body to fully face you. Now it was his turn to smirk, knowing what you wanted to do. He was never above creating some mischief online. Heck, his tweets went viral for stirring up the media. 

“So, how are we going to do this?” 

What Osar wasn’t ready for, was for you to have a 10-step plan for this. He should have been ready for your antics; he had been with you for most of your life. You suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, your eyes widening, raising some concern in Oscar. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We can’t tell Lando.” 

With that the plan went into motion. Step one was to cry in the car, which seemed easy enough as you chose to watch some sad edits on TikTok. It was perfect. Your mascara ran enough for the cameras to pick up on it. 

The second step was simple. You had a friend who just so happened to work at the Melbourne Law Firm. You had previously wanted to bring her lunch one day, and it worked perfectly for the plan. You knew that people were following you, which made it even better. On your way out, you took a small coffee from the lobby, and then sat in your car for a moment. 

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y/nl/n you drew stars around my scars, but down I'm bleeding

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y/nsworld guys. . . SOMEONE WAKE ME UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE 😩

ossie&n/n THEY HIT THE PENTAGON

landonorris you want to REPLY TO MY MESSAGES??

charles_leclerc please also respond to your favorite father-in-law

maxverstappen1 answer them cause they're threatening to fly to Australia and they're going to take me with them

piastriduo she changed her username 🥺😭

y/nswife I can't be a child of divorce, it's too early

Third, Oscar would make a public appearance the day after. Some paparazzi had spotted him, making him fly the bird at the cameras. The McLaren driver quickly turned around and headed back to his car, wanting to now get home. 

Except, Oscar wasn’t expecting to be jumped the moment he wanted to get out of the house for the weekend. You had decided to go out shopping, keeping your head low. He knew he should also have kept his head low. A hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a random bookstore. He had half a mind to start yelling “stranger danger,” but these were no strangers.

“Lando, Max, Charles? What is this?” 

Lando’s finger pressed into his chest, making him wince a bit. The Briton had anger in his eyes, along with Charles and Max also glaring. 

Lando hissed, “This is an intervention. Why did you divorce Y/n? She was literally your life mate. You freakin’ muppet.” 

Charles decided to put his piece in. “Did something happen? You two were so happy in Australia and Miami.” 

“Or did she do something?” the Dutchman asked, making Oscar immediately shake his head. He looked down at the floor. 

“We just decided that it wasn’t working any more. I’ve been too busy with racing and she got a new job here.” 

Lando scoffed. “Utter bullshit, that’s what that is.” 

Charles looked like a kicked puppy. “Mate. Is there no way to reconnect?” 

Oscar crossed his arms, trying to seem more intimidating. “We fought and it’s over. She already gave me the papers and they’re signed. End of story.” 

“Babe, you didn’t tell me that you were shopping here too! I found this new book . . . oh.” 

Shit. 

You blinked, looking at the three men who were cornering your husband. This was not in the 10-step plan. You were about to say something, but Lando quickly walked over to you. You expected some yelling, but he pulled you to the side. It was intense eye contact for a moment. 

“Did Oscar cheat?” 

“What?” 

He gasped. “Did you cheat?” 

You huffed. “Lando, no one cheated.” 

The kid looked like a kicked puppy, even though he was older than you. He threw his hands up in the air, pretty exasperated. 

“Why did you two get a divorce?” 

The sheer volume of his voice made a few heads turn, making you wince a bit. You tugged his arm and pulled him back to the group of three. The Briton may have dragged his feet just a bit, only because he didn’t want to have this awkward conversation with you and his teammate. 

You tilted your head just a bit. “Can we have this conversation somewhere else?” 

They shrugged and followed you, even into the car since they had all walked. And instead of getting into the back seats of your SUV, Lando, Charles, and Max squished into the first row. Their eyes did widen when your hand clasped Oscar’s as you drove off. 

Lando leaned over to Max and whispered pretty loudly, “Why are they holding hands?” 

The Dutchman “whispered” back, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s some weird kink?” 

You hit the brakes as you came to a stop light, making Lando and Max jolt. Charles sat still in his seat, already bracing himself since he wasn’t yapping. Well, at least not yet. 

You took this moment to quickly turn around and stare at them, silently telling them to shut their mouths. Oscar bit back a smile as he heard Max and Lando suck in a breath. He sighed in relief as you pulled into the garage. Ever such a gentleman, he hopped out to run around and open your door. 

He pressed a kiss against your cheek. 

“This was your idea remember?” he muttered, guiding you into the house, the three other drivers silently following you. 

You took your time to put your new books away before you went to sit on the couch. Oscar handed you a glass of water, which you thankfully took. You wanted to laugh as you watched Max, Charles, and Lando squirm. 

“You have a very lovely house,” Charles mentioned, trying to break the silence. He was successful as you gave them a soft smile. 

“Thank you, Charles. Oscar bought it for us after he signed with McLaren.” 

Lando remembered the day that the Aussie had told him about the purchase. Oscar had been so excited to truly start your life with each other. The apartment that you two had before was getting small. But now, sitting in front of you when divorce was on the line, he truly wondered what all went wrong. 

He clapped his hands, ending the conversation that you were having with Charles about paint colors. 

Lando pointed at you and Oscar. “Enough. What is going on?” 

You stifled a laugh before trying to clear the air. “Lando, there was never a real divorce. The gossip pages just ran with a rumor.” 

Max butted in. “But the law firm, your Instagram post?” 

Oscar reached over and took your hand in his. “You three know that we’re high school sweethearts, and before that, childhood friends.” 

Lando looked confused. “And what does that have anything to do with this?” 

“Mate,” Oscar started, “it has everything to do with it. Because we’ve been together since we were younger, there wasn’t time for normal teenager things like breakups or heart break.” 

“So,” you added, “we,” Oscar gave you a look, “I thought it might be fun to pretend to get a divorce.” 

No one said a word.

Lando then fell to his knees and kissed your carpet. “Thank God. I don’t think I could handle a sad Oscar every single weekend.” 

You patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think I’d ever want to live without him. And I couldn’t pass the opportunity to not travel around the world.” 

Your husband gasped a bit while he put his hand on his heart. “You wound me woman. I knew you were with me for my money.” 

You wiggled your eyebrows. “But of course, darling. What else would you be good for?” 

Max put his head in his hands. “They’re made for each other. This is gross.” 

You quickly stood from your couch. “Well, I think it’s time for dinner. Ossie?” 

The man in question blushed at the nickname, while the other three cooed at them. He turned to give them a stink eye, effectively shutting them up. 

As you started to get some pans out for dinner, you found yourself with a human backpack. Oscar pressed his face into your neck, sighing deeply. There weren’t many moments that the two of you got to be domestic like this. And it would have been romantic, except for Lando’s squealing as he looked around at the pictures on the wall. 

“Osc, is this you in grade school? Where did the cheeks go, mate?” 

“Lando, get away from the pictures.” 

“But Osc, you were such a cute kid. What happened?” 

“You happened.” 

“Osc!” 

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oscarpiastri she's mine for the rest of time ❤️

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ossie&n/n WAAAARRRR IISSSS OOOVVEERRRRR

y/nsworld I have never been more thankful for rumors

y/nl/n ossieeeee 🥺

y/nl/n I love youuuuuuu (you're never getting rid of meeee)

oscarpiastri I love you too (pls change your user back)

y/nl/n i have to wait 2 weeks (stupid instagram)

landonorris so glad to see you in the paddock 🙌

y/nl/n good to see you too loser

piastriupdates my parents ☺️

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[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (3)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst

a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

~~

Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind. 

A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine. 

He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.

He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for. 

Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself. 

So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now. 

He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches. 

Not that you would reciprocate either. 

You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why. 

His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything. 

But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since. 

“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?” 

“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?” 

Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—” 

“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?” 

Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.” 

Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week. 

“When can I leave?” 

Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?” 

Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.” 

“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast. 

“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip. 

You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?” 

“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.” 

A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.

He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound. 

He committed it to memory. 

“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?” 

Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip. 

Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze. 

“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response. 

“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?” 

His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.” 

Azriel had had enough of distance. 

He nodded his head all the same. 

And then, despite all odds, you looked at him. 

You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation. 

Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay. 

“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling. 

“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster. 

And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.

It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt. 

“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.” 

“Of course.” 

“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?” 

Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?” 

Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance. 

“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.” 

“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm. 

Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.” 

“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be. 

He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet. 

He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more. 

There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship. 

Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins. 

Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you. 

And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted. 

The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.

Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you. 

And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew. 

He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice. 

He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you. 

The bond had only cemented his foolishness. 

He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped. 

“Late night then, Az?” 

You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night. 

Because that had been something else he opted to ignore—that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times. 

It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”

The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain. 

The months following were different. 

Everything was different. 

But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest. 

Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.

That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached. 

And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it. 

“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness. 

The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight. 

“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.” 

“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.” 

The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—” 

“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.

“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—” 

“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—” 

Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands. 

“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering. 

The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked. 

“I think forever.”

Part 4

[uluvjay]

Helpful Ex- L. Norris

Lando Norris x Ex girlfriend! Reader

Your ex finally comes around to pick up his things but finds you in an interesting situation

Warnings?; SMUT, masturbation(f), coming in pants(m), p I v, unprotected sex(use protection!!!), praising, dirty talk, Lando being a little shit, cursing, fingering, literally porn with a somewhat plot

Lightly proofread, sorry for any errors!

A frustrated cry left your mouth at the unsatisfied feeling, the burning in your stomach was so strong but you couldn’t reach the edge. You’d been trying for weeks to get a release but no matter what you did or tried, nothing helped

The knock at your front door was what caused your hand to fly out of your panties, and the ding coming from your phone made you realize who it was knocking at the door.

“One second!” You yelled, jumping out of bed and throwing on your discarded shorts before making your way towards the front door.

“Hi” you breathed up at the blue eyed man

“Hey, you okay?” He questioned, you two had spent enough time together for him to realize the frustrated look in your eyes.

“Uh yeah, just tired. Come in I’ll grab your box” you smiled opening the door wider for him.

Your relationship with the British driver had lasted a loving three years and came to an agreed ending. With you living in London, he in Monaco, and the constant traveling of his job you both realized you’d became more of friends rather than lovers.

You had broken up about four months ago but due to his constant traveling the Brit had only just gotten around to coming back to London.

When you returned you found him sitting at your kitchen island, snacking on the cookies you had baked the night before.

“These are fucking amazing” he praised with a mouth fool of said cookie.

With a small giggle you thanked him before sitting across from him.

“How’ve you been?” You asked

“Good, The teams been doing pretty well so that’s always nice. How about you? Max said you found yourself a little play thing at the club the other night” he smirked.

You blushed at the boys comment, “that little rat. It Didn’t get very far anyways” you shrugged.

“Yeah why’s that?” He laughed picking up another cookie.

“He uh..he came in his pants” you mumbled

“He what?” Lando crackled.

“Lando it’s not funny! We were you know..making out and next thing I knew he was pushing me off and there was a wet spot on his jeans.”

“It’s not I’m sorry! But it’s not that embarrassing I mean you’ve made me cum in my pants. As long as he finished you off that’s all that matters” he shrugged bringing his cookie up to his lips but the look on your face stopped him.

“He did finish you off right?” He questioned slowly.

“Um,no” you blushed awkwardly

“Your joking right?” He scoffed at the shake of your head.

“I’m sorry he got you all hot and bothered, came in his pants and then ran out?” He clarified.

“Yeah..”

“Oh baby” he laughed standing up and rounding the island to your side.

“S’ not funny Lan” you scolded looking up at him as he towered over your sitting frame.

“Your right I’m sorry honey” he muttered looking down at you with darkening eyes.

“S’ That what was wrong when I got here?” He questioned.

“Wa-what do you mean?” You mumbled hoping he didn’t actually catch on to what you had been doing before he arrived.

“You were touching yourself weren’t you? I seen the frustration in your eyes and the blush covering your face. You’ve been trying to get yourself off since that night haven’t you?” He smirked.

Your head dropped at the boys affirmation, he was one hundred percent correct and you couldn’t deny it. You were a virgin before Lando and through your entire relationship you always had him to get you off. Of course you’d touched yourself when he was away but it was always guided by his voice over the phone.

“Don’t go shy on me now baby, it’s okay. You’re just a spoiled little brat that’s never had to do anything for herself before.” He tutted, slipping a finger under your chin you bring your eyes back on his.

Your thighs clenched at his words, you hadn’t gotten a proper orgasm since the last time he’d gotten you off with his fingers in between your thighs while you sat in the passenger seat of his McLaren.

“Lando..” you whined as his fingers slipped down your run over your thighs.

“You want my help baby? Need me to take care of you?” He asked.

“Yes. Please.” You whimpered.

Your confirmation was all it took for the boy to pick you up and take off down the hall towards your bedroom.

He tossed you onto the soft bed before stripping off his hoodie and shoes and climbing over your body. He leaned down to place a teasing peck onto your lips, lightly nipping at your bottom lip.

Tired of his teasing you slipped your fingers into his soft curls and pulled him down for your lips to meet in a deep kiss. A low groan escaping Lando’s throat at the way you slightly tugged on his roots, he missed the way your fingers felt tangled in his hair.

“Missed you so much baby.” He whispered as he detached his lips from yours, beginning a trail down the column of your throat.

“Me too” you whimpered, head tipping back to allow him more access to your delicate skin.

“Can I take this off?” He questioned as he tugged on the hem of your hoodie, that actually belonged to him.

“Mhm” you nodded, smirking at the growl that came from his mouth when he realized that’s all you were wearing on your top half.

“Gonna kill me one day baby” he groaned laying his head against your bare chest.

You giggled as his bright eyes looked into yours before he leaned over and attached his lips to one of your breasts. A sharp whine breaking from your throat at the sensation of his warm mouth, his hand reaching over and pinching the bud between his fingers.

“God lando” you moaned as he sucked on the bud, his teeth lightly nipping at the skin-Just the way you liked.

He continued his assault on your breasts for a moment before finally pulling away and trailing his lips further down your body till he reached the waistline of your cloth shorts.

He looked up at you for confirmation before pulling the material off your body, you gave him a nod and he quickly pulled them down your soft legs.

“So wet baby” he spoke at the sight of your wet panties, moving them to the side to reveal your puffy clit.

You gasped at the feeling of his thick fingers running through your folds, keeping his touch feather light to tease you.

He slowly worked his middle finger inside you, smirking at the moan that broke free from your mouth as he added his ring finger.

His fingers moved skillfully inside you, moving back and forth with such care that he had you withering and crying out above him. Your fingers gripped the sheets as you called out his name over and over.

He worked you till he couldn’t take it anymore, from the way you moaned his name and how tight you were hugging his fingers. He needed to be inside of you, needed to feel you wrapped around his cock again.

“Why’d you stop” you whined at the feeling of his fingers leaving you.

“Gonna fuck you now baby” He smirked as he came up to place a hot kiss on your lips before removing himself from the bed to take his remaining clothes off.

You sat up on your elbows to watch him strip, he removed his shirt slowly-teasingly. Your thighs rubbed together at the sight of his naked upper half, it was obvious he’d been devoting a bit more time to training. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down to reveal his light gray boxers, a small patch had formed from his precum.

He pulled off his boxers revealing his hard cock, it smacked against his lower stomach.the sight caused your mouth to water, missing the weight of it on your tongue.

He crawled his way back up the bed to rest over you, slotting himself between your thighs as he gripped the shaft of his cock, guiding his length towards you entrance, teasing the tip up and down your folds.

“Fuck, don’t tease lan, please” you begged from below him.

“So polite baby, that’s my good girl” He praised as he thrusted his hips into yours and set a slow pace.

“Oh fuck” you cried at the feeling of him being inside you again.

He locked his lips with yours, one of his hands coming up to rest on the base of your throat giving it a light squeeze.

“Feel so good for me baby, can’t believe someone passed this up. Didn’t know what he was missing out on” he rambled above you.

He gripped your legs, wrapping them around his lower half as he picked up his pace, sounds of slapping skin and moans filling the room.

Your freshly manicured nails ranked down his back as his tip hit the spongy spot inside you, “ahh, god. Feels so good Lan” you cried into his neck.

“Yeah? You miss my cock baby? Miss how I fill you up?” He teased.

“Yes, fuck yes I did. Missed all of you Lando” you admitted to the green eyed man above you.

Your moans became downright pornographic as he moved his thumb in circles on your clit, fingers digging further into his skin as your back arched.

“I’m getting close love” he moaned into your neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses along the skin.

“Me to baby, so close” you cried, fingers moving into his hair to tug at the curly locks.

You could feel the tightness in your lower stomach getting tighter and tighter, as his thumb continued to work your clit and his mouth spewed dirty words at you.

You could feel his thrusts becoming sloppy as his hands dug into the sides of your thighs, no doubt leaving bruises for tomorrow.

“Fuck lan-I’m gonna cum” you cried out below him.

“Go ahead baby, I’ve got you. Come for me like the good girl you are.” He encouraged as he moved your legs up over his shoulders to thrust at a deeper angle.

And that you did, fingers digging into his skin so hard it caused the man to groan out at the feeling. His own moans getting whiny and whinier as he got closer to his own high.

“Cum for me Lando” you encouraged into the Brits ear.

“Fuck, I’m coming” he cried as he pushed out one more hard thrust and stilled as he spilled inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you once he came down from his high, your hand slipped into his curls as you placed light kisses to his head.

His own lips ran along your collarbone as he nuzzled into you, he always became quite the clinger after sex.

You both laid there for a moment before he pulled his head from your chest and looked up at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“Hi” you smiled at him.

“Hi darling” he smiled back warmly as he reached up the brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Can I spend the night?” He asked quietly.

“You can stay for as long as you’d like” you replied before leaning down and giving him a sweet kiss.

-

[moonlinos]

I can hear the siren (Siren part I)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, neighbors AU, strangers to “lovers”

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, voyeurism if you squint, hate sex kind of?, masturbation, thigh riding, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, Hyunjin’s a bit of an asshole but I love him

♡ Word count: 7.9k

♡ Synopsis: To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

♡ A/N: Once again, I cannot shut up and this ended up being much longer than I had originally wanted. One day, I will write a one-shot that’s less than 5k words, but today is not that day. I listened to Taeyeon’s Siren while writing this, hence the title. Also think the song’s a little fitting to the story.

part II →

Yet another night, yet another two hours of hearing your next-door neighbor moaning like a porn star for anyone to hear. The thin walls of your apartment, coupled with the fact that your room shared a wall with his own bedroom, make it impossible for you not to hear everything that happens inside his bedroom. Earphones have proven futile in muffling his voice, and you can only distract yourself with mindless YouTube videos for so long before you give up and simply wait for him to finish. Quite literally.

You noticed it was his routine: Fridays and weekends — the nights when he would graciously give the entire building a free show.

But that wasn’t all he did. And that’s what stirs up curiosity inside of you.

An hour before the unholy sounds begin, he spends a significant amount of time simply speaking, laughing loudly, and throwing the occasional suggestive comment here and there. But only his voice can be heard, and considering how damn thin the walls are, you can’t help but wonder why that is. Maybe his hookups aren’t into his long, drawn-out conversations, only there to get fucked and dip as fast as possible. Or perhaps it’s a girlfriend, and he enjoys gagging her. Your mind has had plenty of time to run wild with theories, seeing as he moved about a month ago, starting your own personal version of hell on his very first day.

You complained to your landlord three times now. On the first time, you were dismissed as being too sensitive to noise. Maybe invest in some earplugs, she suggested. The second time, after explaining through gritted teeth that perhaps the entire building could also hear him and it would be wise to give him a warning, she assured you that only your apartment had such complaints — after all, it was only the two of you on that floor. And, on your last attempt before you ultimately gave up, your landlord all but berated you for meddling in your neighbor’s business. She argued he was inside his apartment and could do whatever he desired.

And so, you accepted your fate.

As you walk out of the shower, your bliss at the realization that tonight is a Friday dissipates as soon as it dawns on you that you are in for three days in a row of your neighbor and his antics. You groan, reluctantly making your way toward your bedroom, your body aching after sitting at your desk at work all day. So sleeping on the couch was not an option; your limbs only ached even more the day after you did that to try and escape the raucous noise.

Like clockwork, at exactly ten p.m., his loud voice fills the small space of your bedroom.

“I’m actually going out tonight again, so we have to be quick,” he explains. “But you like it when I’m quick, don’t you? Like when I make you cum so fast you barely have time to understand what’s happening.”

You grimace at his words, burying yourself under your blankets. God.

“I’m going clubbing with a couple of friends,” He continues. “Hopefully, I’ll find a nice girl to take home, hm?”

Crossing out the word Girlfriend on your mental notes, you scoff. What a gentleman he is, letting his hook-up know he’ll have to fuck her fast so he can leave to meet another woman to take home.

“Maybe I’ll record a video for you if she lets me. Would you like that, seeing me fuck another woman? I bet you would.”

What the fuck. The word Girlfriend is added back to your list. Maybe the girl is into that shit, and you’re not one to kink shame so long as everything’s consensual. But you surely didn’t consent to knowing that information. 

Soon enough, his voice drops to a sultry tone, and incessant hums spill from his lips. And the worst part of your night begins.

You hate to admit it — seeing as the guy makes you lose sleep and disturbs your peace since he’s graced the building with his presence — but his dirty talk, when coupled with his groans, becomes far less unpleasant and much more enticing. Every night, you struggle for an hour with the uncomfortable feeling of arousal between your legs, the way he alternates between praises and vulgar words causing a twinge inside of you. But you never dare to masturbate to the sound of his voice — that would be going too far. Or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you follow your rule of waiting for him to finish whatever it is that he’s doing to then finally touch yourself. As you tightly shut your eyes, you focus on your upcoming work assignments, desperately trying to drown out the sound of his voice. Maybe boring yourself to sleep is your only escape.

“Oh, I know how wet you are just watching me — fuck,” he groans, a breathy scoff leaving his lips. “Don’t even gotta tell me. Just touch yourself, it’s okay.”

Your eyes shoot open as it feels as if he’s fucking talking to you. You shake your head, the awful feeling of embarrassment engulfing you in the privacy of your own bedroom.

“I know you want to,” His voice is unrelenting, reverberating through your dark room, punctuated by heavy sighs. “Do it for me, will you? Touch your pretty cunt for me.”

You feel your clit begin to pulse, and a loud groan escapes from your lips. So loud, in fact, you wonder if he heard you through the thin walls as well.

Fuck it, you tell yourself inwardly, it’s not like the guy will ever know what you’re doing.

The sound of his voice was as silky and dark as velvet, covering you wholly and clouding your judgment with each word. You allow your hand to slip underneath your sleep shorts, gasping as you find the fabric of your panties already soaking simply from hearing his words — almost begging, guiding you to let go of your reservations and touch yourself.

“Just like that. D’you like the sound of my voice?” He asked, voice breathless, a deep groan echoing through the walls. “Like hearing me moan for you? Bet you’d like it even more if I was fucking you.”

Your fingers delicately flick back and forth, teasing your clit, your mind now shamelessly imagining his fingertips, his tongue, his cock, anything he was willing to give you. You’re quick to lose yourself in this imagination, despite not knowing what the man looked like — you soon realize that wasn’t at all important, a dark shadowy figure hovering over you proving to be more than enough for you as you felt a rush of wetness pooling between your thighs when your neighbor let out a louder, guttural noise.

“Fuck, I’d love to be stretching that pussy out,” He chokes out, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any noise. You’re now hyper-aware that if you can hear him this loudly, he’d be able to hear you with the same amount of clarity.

Your embarrassment only goes so far, though, as you slip a finger into your cunt, your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering closed to better conjure up the fantasy your mind had been creating. You imagine his long fingers inside you in place of your own, the words he spilled almost nonchalantly being whispered directly into your ears. One finger soon turned into two, then three, the heel of your palm rubbing against your clit as you tilt your hips up. You throw away your last drop of inhibition as you indulge in vivid thoughts, imagining the shape and size of his cock and, most importantly, how it would feel as it filled you up. Your neighbor’s words almost faded into white noise, his grunting the only coherent sound in your ears.

Would he take his time with you, like he always did whenever you heard him? Teasing you for hours as he candidly talked about nothing in particular, rendering you unable to do anything but beg for him? Or would he be hasty, like tonight, his cock abruptly stretching you to the brim, making you feel every inch of his thick length? Would he rather finish on your breasts, your stomach, or maybe your face, taking a picture to keep as a souvenir he could show off to whoever he was with during these nights?

“Come with me,” His voice suddenly became clear once more, deep and hoarse as you imagine his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “Think about how good it’d feel to have me come inside you, stuffing that little cunt while you milk me dry.”

You purse your lips as you feel your release approaching, coaxed purely by his words. The mental image of this stranger painting your insides with his release, all the while his intoxicating voice told you how good you were, how warm and tight you felt enough to have waves of pleasure wash over you, body tensing up as your orgasm surges through you.

As you slowly come down from your high, you feel your consciousness come back to you. Your fingers leave your core as if you were just burned by fire, which is fitting as a feeling of burning embarrassment wraps around you tightly like a vice.

But the worst part is that the shame quickly ebbs away as you hear your neighbor’s chuckle, the laugh of a stranger you had come to almost memorize.

“You know I’m always glad to make you come. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, everything around you falls into a quiet stillness. You faintly hear as he shuts his front door, presumably leaving for that club he had mentioned, and you’re left to lie with your regrets.

This has just crossed a line, and although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel all that guilty, you still knew it was wrong. You had no choice but to confront the cause of your troubles yourself.

Unfortunately, that cause was a person you had just shamelessly fantasized about as you fingered yourself.

The next afternoon, you stand at your neighbor’s door, hesitant to knock. Since he mentioned going clubbing last night, you knew coming by in the morning would be futile, but you also know — sadly, all too well — that Saturday nights are when he’s the loudest, and he only stops well past midnight. You settled for the afternoon, preparing lunch as you rehearsed your words in your head instead of enjoying your weekend.

You knock twice, and that familiar voice soon rings through the door, asking for a moment. A minute later, your neighbor is standing in front of you, holding the door open with sleepy eyes that focus on you. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but surely not a tired-looking tall man with messy black hair wearing a pout on his lips, as if you just rudely disturbed him from his sleep (how ironic). From what you heard during the last month, you were ready to have to face a shirtless fuckboy, a permanent smirk etched onto his lips as he eyed you indifferently. Instead, you’re greeted by soft cheeks and half-closed eyes.

“Yeah?” Your neighbor croaks out, face still heavy with sleep.

You clear your throat, returning to the matter at hand. “I’m your next-door neighbor, I—”

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” he says before you can even finish your rehearsed opening sentence, his lips curling into a small smile. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Somehow, him being so soft is making you hate him even more.

“I wish I could say the same,” you mutter, “Y’know, you’ve been making my life a living hell since you moved in.”

He doesn’t answer, instead running a hand through his hair, the strands falling into place and away from his face. After a small nod, he opens the door all the way.

“Come on in,” he says, promptly walking inside and leaving you standing in the hallway all alone. You have no choice but to follow after him.

He snatches his cup of coffee from the counter, letting out a tired sigh as he collapses onto the couch and takes a big sip. You sit next to him and watch as he swallows slowly, humming contently, and only then speaking again.

“Why is that?”

You hold back another eye roll. “Well, you’re quite noisy at night,” you hesitantly begin, only now grasping just how awkward explaining this situation will be. “On Fridays and on the weekends, you’re… loud.”

And in an instant, you witness a complete shift in his entire demeanor right before your eyes. Like he’s possessed by something, his once sleepy eyes now bore into you with an intense gaze, and his lips curl into the smug grin you were expecting from the start.

“So you can hear me?” He asks as if you hadn’t just told him exactly that. You feel small under the weight of his darkened eyes, but you shrug, doing your best at feigning confidence.

“It’s pretty hard not to hear you,” you answer simply. “We share a wall, in case you didn’t know. I can hear everything you do in your bedroom.”

He raises a brow at your words as if they piqued his interest. But he doesn’t verbalize it; instead, he speaks in that same nonchalant tone you’re used to hearing through your bedroom wall, “You never told me your name. A bit rude, don’t you think?” He offers you his hand. “I’m Hyunjin.”

You scoff but shake his hand regardless, telling him your name with a sigh.

“You know what I think is rude?” You offer him a forced smile. “Keeping your next-door neighbor up all night with how fucking loud you are.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. His gaze traces a path from your eyes to your lips before lingering on your thighs. You instinctively cross your legs, fingers smoothing down the fabric of your shorts. Locking his gaze with yours once more after a few seconds, he cocks his head to the side.

“So I’ve been keeping you up all night?” He muses, and you feel a warmth spread across your cheeks at the rough rasp in his voice.

It’s almost as if he knows what you did last night and is teasing you.

Although you know that’s impossible, your words still get choked up. Hyunjin was undeniably attractive — whether it was looking as soft as he did while answering the door or as if he could devour you with his gaze alone as he does now. You couldn’t be blamed for feeling flustered, especially after everything you heard this man saying and doing.

“Well,” you clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. Showing your outrage at this entire situation is your best bet, so you allow for the anger you felt during all those sleepless nights to seep through your veins. “It’s kinda hard to sleep when you’re moaning like a porn star.”

But Hyunjin fully chuckles at that. “So I sound like a porn star?” He nods with an amused hum. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. Never mind anything you had thought upon seeing him open that door; Hyunjin is everything you thought he would be.

“Look, I didn’t come here to stroke your ego. You’re clearly doing just fine in that regard,” you grumble, and he scoffs beside you, leaning back on the couch with a smug expression you want to slap away from his pretty face. “I came here to ask if you could move whatever it is that you do to the living room, or maybe keep it down. I’m sure that’s not too much to ask.” 

Hyunjin clicks his tongue almost mockingly. “Oh, but it is too much to ask. I can’t really do any of those things. Sorry,” he shrugs, “The building has thin walls. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, I’m afraid.”

You stagger at his words, his lack of common sense seemingly higher than you initially gave him credit for. You’re unsure whether to laugh in sheer disbelief or cuss him out as anger slowly bubbles up inside your chest. How unfairly attractive he looks at the moment isn’t helping your case — he spreads his legs further as he shifts on the couch, bringing his mug up to his full lips and watching you almost uninterestedly with half-lidded eyes.

Fuck this guy.

“What is it you do that’s so important that you can’t at least keep it down? Can’t your girlfriend get off without your obnoxious dirty talk? Is that it?”

Hyunjin shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Your dates, then. I honestly don’t care.” You roll your eyes, which elicits a small laugh from him. You have never wanted to punch someone so badly, all while also wanting them to rearrange your guts. “Whoever it is, whatever it is that you do, can’t we compromise and you be quiet, at least on Fridays? I get home from work exhausted and have to put up with your shit when all I wanna do is sleep.”

“Ah, but Fridays are the most important nights for me,” Hyunjin tells you with a condescending lilt in his voice. “That’s also not possible, I’m so sorry.”

“I see.” You suck in a deep breath, your eyes narrowing and hands curling into fists on your lap. “Then would it be possible for you to move your… activities to the living room?”

Hyunjin contorts his face, shaking his head while that grin is still etched onto his lips. “Yeah, no, that’s also not possible.”

“You’re extremely inflexible, do you know that?” You blurt out, “I’m not asking that you move out, I’m simply asking that you fuck whoever it is that you fuck every weekend somewhere else.”

His piercing gaze lingers on you briefly, as if he’s carefully considering his next words. Sighing, he sets his mug on the end table and sits up straight.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposes, carelessly ripping a piece of paper from the open sketchbook that lay on the coffee table and jotting something down. “Tonight, you wait for me to start my activities,” he says with a poorly concealed chuckle. “And then you go on this website. Maybe it’ll clear up some things inside your pretty little head. Can you do that for me?”

He hands you the note, eyes darting down to your lips once more before meeting your gaze. The tone of his voice is the same that echoes through your bedroom during those nights — exactly like the one that coaxed an orgasm out of you just last night, and you absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together.

You need to get out of here.

With a small nod, you swiftly stand back on your feet and walk toward the door of his apartment that was left wide open. You quietly mutter a goodbye as Hyunjin says something about it being a pleasure meeting you, all while amusedly staring at you.

It’s only as you close your front door behind you that you look down at the piece of paper that you subconsciously crumpled up. Scrawled in a messy handwriting is simply a website address:

fivestarcam.com

You furrow your brows, walking toward your bedroom as you rack your brain for how a website could possibly give you answers. It dawns on you, then — all the trouble you went through, and yet, no solution to your problem.

Ultimately, you decide you’ve already wasted too much of your patience on this man today, throwing the piece of paper on your bedside table and going about your day, enjoying the tranquility of your apartment while you can.

Night comes too fast, the sun setting outside unbeknownst to you as you lie on the couch for nearly three hours, your focus solely on the plot of the movie playing on your phone. Soon enough, ten p.m. rolls around, and you drag your tired body toward your bathroom. You take a shower with no rush, knowing full well that by the time you walk into your bedroom, Hyunjin’s activities will already have started.

Sure enough, you’re greeted by a drawled-out groan as soon as you enter your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto your bed. Your bedroom had always been comforting, your bed almost like a safe haven from all the stress life threw your way. Yet now it’s simply the place where you lie awake for hours, simultaneously vexed and uncomfortably turned on.

You lie still for a while, Hyunjin’s vulgar chatter like the background music to your spacing out, until you remember the piece of paper he gave you earlier. How would a website clear up any of your confusion? And, more importantly, why should you even care enough to find out? From the little interaction you had with the man, you know for a fact Hyunjin will remain unchanging in his obnoxious ways.

However, you’ve always been too curious for your own good, and the mere prospect of understanding this annoyingly enigmatic man even a tiny bit has you hurriedly picking your laptop off the floor and typing out the website address on your browser. Curiosity killed the cat.

The first thing that greets you is a message asking that you verify being over the age of eighteen. All you have to do is click a button, which seems counterintuitive, but you have little time to worry about that when your screen is filled with preview thumbnails of several live broadcasts.

You’ve heard of camming websites before, of course, but you didn’t know they were still a thing nowadays, what with the rise of Only Fans and other more independent ways to go about making money like this.

Your eyes scan the page with agape lips. Men and women — some in their underwear and some already naked, some showing their faces and some wearing masks. And then, your eyes land on a particular thumbnail. At the Top Cammers of The Month section, on the number one spot, is a fully clothed man with familiar long black hair. Only the bottom of his face can be seen due to his camera angle, but that is more than enough as your gaze fixes on his full lips.

That’s undeniably Hyunjin. Your neighbor, Hyunjin.

Before you can make sense of your actions, your fingers are already hovering above the touchpad as you watch the thumbnail image change into a new one. Curiosity is eating away at you, and you can’t deny that your nosy mind is eager to finally see Hyunjin rather than only hear him.

Ultimately, you decide this is ridiculous.

But your twitching fingers brush against the touchpad just as you move to close your laptop, promptly clicking the live video, your screen now filled with the image of Hyunjin in his bedroom. He’s shirtless now, palming himself through his sweatpants — the same ones he wore this afternoon.

“You wanna know how clubbing went last night?” He says with a grin, and you now understand his incessant talking is merely him answering comments from his viewers. Various different names fly through the right side of your screen, some with tips attached to their comments and some simply drooling over Hyunjin as he essentially sits in front of the camera doing nothing.

A cocky smile is spread on his lips once you shift your attention back to him.

“I guess you’re good at following orders,” he chuckles. You then realize your laptop’s volume is on high, and the speaker’s noise permeates through your wall and into Hyunjin’s bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, and you scramble to find your earphones in your bed.

You’re gnawing on your bottom lip as you plug them in, suddenly too aware of the fact that he can hear you just as well as you can hear him. Hyunjin’s smile shifts into a small laugh, his hand wrapping around his length through his sweatpants, the firm outline of his cock straining against the fabric. You feel a tingling sensation spread through your body, your inner muscles clenching as you watch the way his hand squeezes along the thick outline, the muscles of his stomach contracting as he lets out a broken sigh.

This feels wrong, as if you’re nothing more than a pervert watching Hyunjin for your own pleasure. But then again, it was he who gave you the website address in the first place. Why else would he have done that if not for you to watch him?

“I have a special someone watching tonight,” he murmurs, and you can just imagine his gaze right now — his eyes hooded and piercing, locked onto the camera with the same intensity as when he looked at you earlier today.

Hyunjin’s hand reaches inside his sweatpants, withdrawing his cock from the constraints of the dark fabric before you can make sense of what’s happening. Your gaze remains fixed, unable to look away from the red, swollen head that stands out against his pale skin. With lazy movements, he begins stroking himself, the precum dripping from the tip easing the glide of his hand. You bite the inside of your cheek as more arousal leaks from you, gathering in your panties.

“Hope she likes watching just as much as she liked listening to me last night,” Hyunjin rasps out, and you immediately close your laptop, throwing it to the side before burying your face in your pillow.

He knows you got off to his voice. He has to know.

And, unfortunately, your brain is currently too clouded by lust to function properly, and the only logical solution you can come up with is to go knocking at his door tomorrow.

You stand in front of Hyunjin’s door at the same time as yesterday, a strange blend of anger and curiosity making you knock frantically until he answers with that annoyingly alluring smirk on his lips.

“Did you enjoy the show last night?” Hyunjin asks before you can even utter a word, his voice filled with a goading tone.

You push past him, walking into his apartment with a scowl. “Why did you send me that?”

He only shrugs, closing the door behind him before stretching his arms above his head with a sigh. “Needed you to understand why I can’t just stop doing what I do. It’s my job,” he reasons, “I figured showing you was more effective than telling you.”

A scoff involuntarily falls from your lips, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “So you just sent me to a website full of porn without even asking me if that was okay? I don’t care if that’s your fucking job, I never asked you—”

“Did you stay till the end?” He asks, a lazy grin on his lips as his gaze wanders across your face. Clearly, he’d completely ignored every word that came out of your mouth.

“Hyunjin, are you even listening to me?”

“I was thinking about you, y’know?” He continues, taking a step toward you. “Was really easy to come when I knew you were watching me.” He cages your body against the door with his, both hands resting beside your head. His dark gaze locks onto you, causing your breath to hitch. “All I could think about was how you were secretly listening to me all this time. Such a dirty girl.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. You want to tell him you weren’t secretly listening to him; you were merely thrown into this situation against your will. But his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, lingering before roaming over the swell of your breasts, causing your thoughts to blur and your words to die in your throat.

“Kept thinking about how I never heard you,” he says, almost as if he’s wondering aloud. “When was the last time someone fucked you properly?”

His gaze finally travels back up to yours, and the fog of desire clouding his eyes is unmistakable. The moment you knocked on his door, you knew this would happen. You weren’t naïve, and Hyunjin wasn’t stupid; the moment you pushed past him and into his apartment, you both knew where this was going.

“Don’t have time to go on dates,” you murmur as Hyunjin leans down, humming low on his throat.

“Well,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “You got to listen to me, got to watch me… Don’t you wanna know what it feels like?”

You can only nod, and Hyunjin immediately presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He wedges his knee firmly between your thighs, as if he’s silently demanding that you give in to him. Little does he know you’re already way past that point.

Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin studies your features for a beat, the pad of his thumb gliding across your bottom lip as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“You really want this?” He asks, and you can’t help but feel he does it simply for the pleasure of hearing you beg.

But you happily comply either way.

“Please,” you breathe out, and Hyunjin chuckles, firmly pressing his thumb into your mouth and watching as you wrap your lips around it with a contented hum. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Hyunjin pushes his thigh against your core, the seam of your shorts creating a delicious friction against your clit. You can feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against you, and a sigh falls from your lips, your hands gliding up around his shoulders. You have no reservations left in your body; the only thing replaying inside your mind at the moment is the image of Hyunjin’s cock on your laptop. He was right. You were dying to know what it would feel like.

His strong hands firmly gripped onto your hips, guiding you to move against his thigh, each back-and-forth motion increasing the pressure on your aching clit. It felt too much, yet not enough at the same time. But just as you’re about to plead for more, Hyunjin’s pressing his lips to yours again and swallowing down your voice. His tongue slides against yours, the taste of coffee and smoke lingering in your mouth as he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling gently before letting go.

You feel your mind go fully hazy as Hyunjin lifts his thigh, bringing you up to your tiptoes, his muscles flexing and prompting you to roll your hips faster, harder.

“Who would’ve thought, huh? Just minutes ago you were acting like I was the worst person alive,” He lets out a low chuckle, amused, and your grip on his neck tightens as you feel the familiar vexation he brings out of you bubble up inside your chest. “Now you’re humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

“Shut up,” you choke out, your brain too lust-hazed to conjure up a better response. You don’t particularly care what he thinks of you so long as he keeps his bruising grip on your skin, guiding you to roll your hips against him.

Hyunjin trails kisses down the skin of your neck, settling at the dip of your collarbone and sucking on the skin while you eagerly quicken your speed. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, undoubtedly marking you, while his thigh begins to bounce against your cunt, and you can feel the familiar aching warmth of your orgasm beginning to tighten in your stomach. But just as you’re about to be hit by the release you’re so desperate for, Hyunjin’s hands leave your hips and slide down to your ass, any stimulation you had before coming to a halt as he picks you up and makes his way to the living room.

“What the fuck?” You all but yell, earning you a hearty laugh from Hyunjin. “I was close, you asshole.”

He roughly throws you onto the couch, a condescending pout etched onto his lips.

“But that’s no fun for me, is it, baby?” He hovers over you, spreading your thighs apart and slotting himself between them. In stark contrast to his words, he gently lifts your shirt over your head, feather-light touch sending shivers down your spine. “Greedy girls don’t get to come.”

You feel your insides clenching at his words, and although you despise the effect he has on you, you’re already here, laid out before him, so you might as well indulge him. You gently push Hyunjin back until he sinks into the sofa, legs lazily spread apart and half-lidded eyes fixated on you. As soon as you clutch at his shirt, he promptly tugs it over his head in one fluid motion, and you attach your lips to the bare skin of his stomach, trailing kisses down the expanse of his torso.

You waste no time tugging his sweatpants down and out of your way, his cock now hanging heavily before you, just as pretty as it had seemed on that little screen. Hyunjin’s hand soon wraps around himself, stroking lazily while you watch the precum dribble from his tip. Tentatively, you grab the base of his cock, bringing your tongue to the head and tantalizingly lapping at it. Hyunjin lets out a quiet gasp, his own hand leaving his length and tangling in your hair, guiding you forward toward his cock. You part your lips and suck the head into your waiting mouth, hands now stroking his length at a slow pace while you lick up his slit, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. You hold back a chuckle when you feel him twitch under your touch, a soft whimper falling from his throat.

Hyunjin’s hips buck up into your lips, and you promptly open your jaw wider and slide his whole length down your throat slowly. You weren’t lying when you said you had no time for dates, which is why you find yourself struggling a bit. It truly had been a while since you had a proper fuck, but you would never give Hyunjin the pleasure of hearing you admit it. Breathing through your nose, you’re finally able to move up and down his cock, swallowing all of him. Your eyes well up as his fingers tug harshly at your hair, shoving your mouth back down the entirety of his thick length. A choked-out whimper falls from your throat, and you instinctively move your gaze toward his.

“God,” he rasps out, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip and eyebrows knitting together. “You take me so well.”

You promptly remove your lips from him with a loud pop, precum and saliva dribbling down your chin as you struggle to suppress a laugh at the utter indignation on his face.

“I doubt you could fuck me if I let you come,” you shrug, and Hyunjin’s expression softens, a scoff falling from his lips.

Before you can say anything else, he’s already pushed you back onto the couch, easily flipping you over so your face is pressed into the cushion. He snakes a hand under your stomach and lifts your hips, quickly working to rid you of your shorts before pressing his cock against your clothed ass.

He leans down, lips pressed against your ear — much like it was in your fantasy back in your bedroom — and whispers, “You need me that badly? I can feel how soaked you are, and all you did was hump my leg.”

You grumble under your breath, but it goes ignored by Hyunjin as he grips your hips and slides his cock under the fabric of your panties, stroking himself along your soaking slit with a low groan. You can feel your underwear gradually dampen more as his precum mixes with your own arousal, the sheer cloth clinging to his cock with each thrust.

Hyunjin’s hand splayed across your lower back, causing you to arch your body and press your hips back instinctively. He chuckles, hand coming down onto the supper flesh of your ass with no warning, a sharp whimper falling from your lips.

“I told you greedy girls don’t get to come,” He reiterates, clicking his tongue and grabbing a large handful of your ass before tugging your panties down your legs. You quietly hoped the trees outside obscured enough of his window, otherwise you’d be in for some interesting elevator rides with your other neighbors. With a hiss, Hyunjin’s thumb presses against your clit before gliding along your wet folds. “Soaking wet,” he mutters, eyes glazed over while he watches your slick coat his finger.

You simply hum, not wanting to stroke his ego any more than you already had by begging him earlier. But you’re unable to contain the gasp that leaves your lips as he pushes his hips forward, the swollen tip of his cock gliding against your warm core once, twice, all while Hyunjin’s hands travel across your ass and thighs. You’re sure he’ll tease you until you give in and beg, but it seems his facade is quick to crumble. He impatiently wraps a hand around his length, finally guiding himself toward your entrance, seamlessly gliding into you with a heavy sigh.

He stills for a second, gaze transfixed by the way your cunt stretches around his thick cock. Until he suddenly pulls out of you before snapping his hips forward again, then again, until he sets a rhythm of deep, fast strokes that have you rocking back and forth on the couch. Pulling yourself up to rest on your forearms, you choke out a loud moan, Hyunjin’s cock twitching inside you at the sound. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, strong arms encircling your body once more, this time pulling you close to him until your back presses against his chest. Hyunjin’s thrusts grew more forceful, the sound of skin slapping together echoing through his small living room as he relentlessly pumped himself into you. His hand wraps in your hair, yanking your head back and humming against your ear, “Go on, you can moan for me,” he hisses, “I know how good it feels.”

Fuck. His ego is surely something you would never get used to.

But you let go, freely groaning at the feeling of his cock pistoning into you. You can feel the curve of his grin against your cheek.

“Like that, I know how much you like it,” he rasps out, “Just as much as you liked touching yourself to my voice like a little slut.”

“Fuck off, you—” you huff, your words cut off by a drawn-out mewl as Hyunjin’s fingers firmly pressed down on your clit, flattening the swollen bud. You couldn’t control yourself after that, desperate whimpers and choked-out moans falling from your lips with each harsh thrust of his hips.

Your sounds seem to stir something inside of him, and his movements grow more erratic, his fingers circling your clit hastily. A crescendo of arousal and pleasure envelops you as more curses tumble from Hyunjin’s lips against your ear, his hand gripping your cheek and pulling you into a messy kiss.

You clench around him, body shaking with the force of your climax as you seek Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around your body for purchase. He continues pounding into you, and you feel yourself squirm, your vision going blurry from the stimulation.

“Gonna come,” he hisses against your lips, “Where do you want it?”

And you’re too far gone at this point, whimpering, “Anywhere you want.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath, pulling out while his hand finds your lower back once more, pushing you onto the couch before flipping your pliant body over so you’re facing him. You watch with hazy eyes as he strokes himself feverishly over your body, his cum soon shooting onto your breasts.

His unreadable gaze lingers on you for a beat and a half before he nonchalantly tucks himself back into his sweatpants and heads toward the hallway. You sit up on the couch, limbs aching, and chuckle to yourself. This was not your proudest moment, but you surely didn’t regret it.

You don’t expect aftercare from someone like him, so you resign yourself to searching for your discarded shirt. But Hyunjin’s tall frame appears before you, towel in hand before you can even stand up. His touch is gentle as he cleans your chest, and although the gesture is somewhat sweet, it feels extremely awkward.

“Really liked fucking you,” he tells you with a grin, “But you gotta leave now. I’m going live later, and I also gotta go to the club tonight, so I have to rest. But it was fun.”

And you simply scoff at his words, rising to your feet to dress yourself as quickly as possible. It was a bit baffling how he could fuck you the way he did, then tell you he’s off to pick up more girls at a club immediately after. But what did you expect? Hyunjin’s ego and arrogance were clear to you from day one.

“Why the fuck do you go clubbing so much, anyway?” You question as you head toward the front door, and Hyunjin chuckles behind you. “Is that your hunting ground or something?”

“You could say that,” he simply says.

As you unlock his door and step out into the hallway, Hyunjin’s voice calls out to you. Turning to look at him, you’re met with that familiar smirk adorning his lips.

“We can do this again anytime you want,” he assures, and the mere thought of letting him touch you again makes you roll your eyes in disdain.

“Yeah right.”

If only you knew then just how awfully torturous it would be to listen to him, knowing what he was doing — most importantly, knowing what it felt like to have him.

Lust completely clouds your judgment when it comes to Hyunjin, and you soon find yourself coming back to his apartment until it becomes an annoyingly pleasurable habit.

Every day, when he hears you get home from work, your phone buzzes with a text asking that you come over and help him ‘warm up for his job.’ The nights of suffering in your bedroom have transformed into watching him from the corner of his room, enthralled with the way he can make himself come on camera so eagerly and later fuck you with just as much vigor.

It’s a nice arrangement, but definitely not one you see yourself in for the long run. Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but you’re not foolish enough to anchor your feelings to someone like him. It’s not his job that’s the problem, but mostly his attitude toward life. He belongs to nobody, while you yearn to belong to someone. Routine is the last thing on his mind, while you revel in its comfort. You could never be with someone like him.

But it is a nice arrangement.

So you find yourself back in his bed again today, his heavy cock in your mouth as he tugs harshly on your hair, painting the back of your throat with his cum. Except this time, he doesn’t immediately ask you to leave.

“What?” You ask, “Don’t you have to go clubbing or something?”

“It’s my day off,” he shrugs, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close and falls back into bed. You furrow your brows, detangling yourself from him.

“Day off? From what, picking up girls?”

Hyunjin chuckles, eyes sleepy. “I work at the club,” he simply says. “I’m a host, I just act like I go clubbing when I talk about it during my lives ‘cause my viewers can be a bit stalkery.”

“What?”

“Have you heard of The Siren?” He asks, and you hum, recalling a faint memory of some of your co-workers mentioning the club in passing. “That’s where I work.”

You nod slowly, still confused. “What exactly does a host do?”

“Well, basically, I get to make money just by making lonely women feel wanted.”

You can’t help but scoff at his crude description. “And do you fuck them?”

“Well, yeah,” he answers like it’s obvious. “It’s part of the job.”

“Fucking hell,” You let out a hearty laugh, to which Hyunjin shoots you a questioning look. “Your sex drive really should be studied.”

His lips upturn into a smirk, and his arms reach for you again, beckoning you back into his embrace. “No need to be jealous, baby. I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you into his chest. He threads his fingers through your hair, and you can’t help but feel… awkward.

“You’re kind of an asshole, Hyunjin.”

He hums. “Sure, but you still let me fuck you.”

You two stay that way for a while, his fingers massaging your scalp as he presses a kiss to your head now and then. It feels disorienting, like a sudden shift from everything Hyunjin had been until now. He was never caring or sweet, he never kissed you if you weren’t fucking, and he surely never cuddled you. Your face involuntarily contorts into a grimace.

You detach yourself from him, getting up from the bed and telling him you’ll see him later. But Hyunjin is grabbing at your arm with a smile.

“Come on, don’t be sad,” he giggles as you try to free yourself from his grip. “I’m really not the type of guy you should have fallen for, anyway.”

You still at his words, face contorting into pure befuddlement. “Fallen for? Who the fuck says I’ve fallen for you?”

And Hyunjin simply scoffs, letting go of your arm as his smile shifts into his characteristic grin. “Well, there’s a reason I’m number one among the hosts at The Siren.”

“Hyunjin, those girls aren’t exactly after you for your personality,” you deadpan. “You’re really nothing worth falling for.”

His grin slowly fades, and it’s his turn to have confusion take hold in his eyes. “What?”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting this. Almost as if he was expecting you to have truly fallen for him simply because he… is him. And you can’t help but chuckle at the situation.

“Hyunjin,” you call out to him sweetly, and his gaze is back on you immediately. “You’re a nice fuck, but that’s really it. Don’t worry about me falling for you.”

You can swear you see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but it’s likely only your imagination. He opens his lips to speak but promptly closes them again. He simply stares up at you from where he’s sat on the bed and almost looks sweet. If you didn’t know him, you would undoubtedly be charmed by this convincing facade. You have to give it to him; you do understand why he’s number one at his job.

“But…” He trails off, shaking his head. “But I’ll see you again tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “We can keep fucking until I find something better.”

You run your fingers through his long hair and make your way to the door, leaving him with an expression frozen in bewilderment.

Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but he’ll never be yours.

But that’s not a problem, as you surely will never be his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings

[hello-eden]

the Plan

Based off of this post.

Damien sat at the dinner table with all of the bat family. Waiting for the opportunity to set the plan in motion. all of his siblings were at the dinner from Grayson to Brown. Even Cassandra had flown in from Hong Kong. Damien definitely thinks that Cassandra knows something's going to go down but as the plan does no one harm, he thinks she will say anything.

“Danielle will be coming to visit” Damian says to his family after the conversation lulls. Alfred had just left to refill the cold water on the table. Everyone at the table turns to him in confusion.

 ”Who is Danielle?” Richard questions with a confused smile on his face. He sat down his cutlery and made a motion with his hand as if to tell Damien to keep going.

”You've literally never brought her up” Tim says pointedly. his phone had gone off just before Alfred left the room so he had been checking his phone when Damien started speaking.

”my sister” Damian says with a frown that obviously indicates that he thinks they're all stupid. Damian knows that they have no idea who she is. Making them think that there was a miscommunication Is bringing him so much chaotic Joy...

”WHAT” every single one of his siblings exclaims as his father stays silent.

Damian knows that Father is going through every single person Damian has ever mentioned in his presence trying to figure out who she is. The look on everyone's faces is going to make his entire week. Damian suppresses the urge to giggle as he tries to keep a straight face. He felt the plan was stupid originally but a Fenton can never really turn down the chance for a bit.

”why did you not inform us of this” Father says pointedly trying not to look as thrown as he actually is. Father looks seconds from bolting to the Batcave to look over his files.

Too late for that Damian can't help but think.

”I have informed you she will be coming to visit '' Damian responds as he puts down his Cutlery. He's getting to urged fidget and that is best to do under the table then over.

”He meant that you had a sister, Demon brat,” Jason exclams. The rest of his siblings exchanged looks in disbelief.

‘I know,I didn't used to have one.’ Damian thinks to himself trying not to let the fact he thinks they're all idiots for falling for this show on his face.

”I have always had a sister, we are twins'' Damian says while arches an eyebrow at Jason.  he turned his head to look at Cassandra with his eyebrow still raised. 

Cassandra returned the look. Cassandra always had a habit of being able to look through people to tell what they think. it is useful in many things but very unhelpful in this. She eventually nodded her head at him which signaled Damien but she was on his side.

Elle and him created this plan a few months before he had been sent back. they realized that almost no time had passed for the bat family which gave them the idea. The portal between worlds had just gotten finished a week ago which gave him the chance to use the stupid plan. Damian was loving the plan a lot more than he thought he would. 

This was going to be fun

[simpjaes]

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry. 

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― DUB CON.  use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish,  reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering? 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something. 

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. 

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness. 

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you  hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently. 

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too. 

 Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week. 

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs. 

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce. 

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?” 

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone. 

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more. 

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off. 

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace. 

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you? 

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?” 

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. 

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end. 

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty. 

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut. 

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.” 

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father. 

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. 

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

 You really seem to be enjoying this. 

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are. 

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you. 

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat. 

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to. 

No one would even know. 

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. 

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect. 

“I knew it.” You giggle,  bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. 

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” 

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.  At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down. 

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy. 

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes. 

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?” 

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards. 

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not. 

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you. 

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now. 

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now. 

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth. 

Oh. Oh. 

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of. 

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying. 

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.” 

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it. 

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now. 

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him. 

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor. 

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh. 

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. 

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration. 

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

 You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it. 

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.” 

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it. 

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat. 

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well. 

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged. 

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath. 

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties. 

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly. 

You’ve gotten wetter. 

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.” 

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous. 

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better. 

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.  

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman. 

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it. 

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything? 

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat? 

No. 

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it. 

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand. 

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.” 

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press. 

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you. 

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk. 

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily. 

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before. 

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly. 

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't. 

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. 

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk. 

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

 You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head. 

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.” 

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.” 

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it. 

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty. 

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” 

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.” 

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit. 

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now. 

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

 He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself. 

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?” 

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.  

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you. 

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

 But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. 

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him. 

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts. 

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good. 

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him. 

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe. 

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence. 

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. 

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it. 

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear. 

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. 

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father. 

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before. 

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into. 

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand. 

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?” 

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness. 

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.  

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed. 

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?” 

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

[dotster001]

Eric Venue

Summary: Vil x gn!reader (technically). Vil has always found your mannerisms to be endearing. They are less endearing when they are evoked by his father.

A/N: NEW DILF DROPPED AND I HAVE ZWRO SHAME AWOOGA!!! Special thanks to @animepaniclover122403 and @l1ls4y0 for being my eyes on the inside and getting me pictures. Warning, I'm on the EN server so I know absolutely nothing about Eric Venue so this may be very out of character.

Note: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.

Vil remembers the first time you met him. You wouldn't look directly at him, opting to stare at the floor as you mumbled incoherent sentences. Not a clear thought left your mouth.

Were you scared? Intimidated? Or, worse, did you not like the way he looked? That last possibility kept him up longer than he'd be proud to admit.

When he moved in with you during SDC training camp, he watched you walk into a wall three separate times. It was that third time that he realized what the situation was. You were flustered. How absolutely adorable.

Over the course of the weeks, you were eventually able to say more than three words to him. You continued to have issues looking directly at him, but he didn't mind that. It was cute. And a little bit of an ego boost.

Now the two of you were thick as thieves. And, in a teasing mood, he decided to ask you about your initial reaction to him. 

As expected, you couldn't look directly at him, staring at the floor as you fidgeted with clasped hands.

Then he heard, barely above a whisper, “I've never seen anyone who is as beautiful as you.”

His heart fluttered. He knew you well enough now to know that you were from another world…

Which meant…

He was more beautiful than anyone you'd ever seen in two worlds.

“Sometimes…sometimes I can't look directly at you because when I look at you I…I can't think, and my mouth goes dry.”

Adrenaline rushed through him, and he couldn't fight off the vicious grin as he cruelly took your chin in his hand, and forced you to look at him.

“You are so adorable.” Then, to absolutely destroy what little calm you had left he pressed a kiss to your nose. You immediately crumbled, your only life line the hand still holding your chin, as he hid his laugh behind a delicate hand to his mouth.

And now? Now he'd invited you home with him for summer break. He'd planned every day's outfit down to the hour, hoping to absolutely destroy you with his casual attire. Not that it was ever truly casual, but that was by design.

And, by the end of the summer, you'd ask him out, and he'd graciously accept. And then you'd live happily ever after.

He forgot to account for one thing…

“It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you,” his father said with an amused smile, as he pressed a light kiss to each of your cheeks.

Vil knew immediately. Your eyes flicked to his father's, then your entire being crumbled.

“H-h-h-hi, Mr. Venue-”

"Oh please. No need to be so formal. Call me Eric.”

“E-E-E-”

“Father! I thought you had a meeting today,” Vil cut you off quickly, an unconcealed tinge of irritation to his voice. Not that you'd notice. You were too far gone, your face unsubtly turned down to your feet.

“I did, but I'd be a poor host if I didn't come meet your- what are they again?” His father smirked, a challenge in his eyes.

“I'm-I’m his-”

“Y/N’s my guest. My guest. No need to be a host, I have it all taken care of.”

Vil and his father smiled at each other for a moment. A moment too long apparently, because you ended up trying to speak again.

“Thank you for letting me stay in your home,” you whispered, barely audible.

“It's not a problem!” He reached out for your hands, taking them in his own, his thumbs gently caressing your knuckles. “It's wonderful that my son has people that are important to him. Would you, perhaps, like to stay forever?” 

In a move very much like one of Vil's, Eric gently tipped your chin up to meet his gaze. Vil watched your face fall under the spell he himself often placed you under. It took everything inside him not to act like a child in a rage. Instead, he placed his hands on your shoulders, and quickly steered you away.

“Y/N is very tired so I will show them to their room,” Vil said. “As I said, I will be their host, no need for you to take time off.”

His father laughed as he quickly shoved you into a nearby guest room. Not even the one he had intended to put you in. But he had to get you away from his dad.

“He smelled nice,” you whispered.

Of course he did. His father smelled of mahogany and expensive cologne. When he was little, that smell meant home. Now that smell meant-

“He was so pretty,” you said with a rather nasty voice crack.

Vil grunted. Grunted! Sevens, the effect you had on him.

Just as his father had done, he took your chin in his hand, and said, firmly, “You're min-my guest. Not his. So try to keep your attention on me.”

You looked at him with big innocent eyes. Vil fought back a distressed, lovesick sigh.

“Understood…but…what if,” you bit your lip, and Vil knew whatever was about to come out of your mouth would give him gray hair. Though, clearly that would be something you would like.

“What if, you shared me?”

He stared at you, opening and closing his mouth a couple times.

“I could be both of your guests!”

“What! Do you know what you're saying?” You had to! At least a piece of you had to, or you wouldn't be continuing the conversation. 

“I don't feel safe answering that question,” you said, your eyes narrowing in suspicion at his attitude.

“I'll be blunt, Y/N,” he said firmly. “You cannot date my father.”

“I never said-”

“You didn't have to. It's written all over your face.”

You opened your mouth to protest, closed it, huffed, looked away, then you turned back to him.

“Why not?”

Vil’s jaw dropped. He sputtered, then exclaimed, “Are you seriously asking why you can't date my dad?”

“He's a dilf,” you shrugged.

“You also can't look directly at him!”

“I can change-”

“Doubtful.”

“Wow, okay. I see what this is. You are intimidated by the thought of me as your step parent.”

“You can't be my step parent!”

“I knew it! You're scared of me wearing the pants between the two of us!”

“No! You can't date my dad, because you are supposed to fall for me!”

You blinked at him. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two perfectly manicured nails. There went his summer plan.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He sighed heavily. “Oh, as in, you feel the same? Or oh as in, awkward, leave me alone?”

You looked away, and Vil was certain if he felt your cheeks, they would feel feverish.

“I-er-ugh.”

“Take your time,” he hummed his amusement coming back to him.

You glared at him, before crumbling again, and mumbling some gibberish. 

“You can't even talk to me, but you think you can handle my father?”

You glared at him, then took a calming breath.

“I like you too.”

“Thank sevens,” he pulled you in for a hug, holding back a snicker as he felt you tremble a little.

“You smell good, too,” you muttered, before hiding your face in his shoulder. He could feel his pride swelling.

But only you could bring it down just as quickly as you brought it up.

“Why can't you share me?” your tone sounded innocent enough, but he groaned as he pushed you out at arms length. 

“I absolutely forbid you from flirting with my father.”

“I have two hands, so I could hold both of your hands at the same time!”

“Y/N, do not make me use my unique magic on you,” he warned. He watched you glare at him, but you quickly lost your composure as he reopened his arms to you, and you buried yourself against him.

He had a whole summer to keep you away from his father.

Wonderful.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.

In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.

I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.

But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.

I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.

He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.

But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.

And last week, he had a breakthrough.

Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.

Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.

Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.

This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.

I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.

___

If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.