#tried other maneuvers for 20 minutes

[confinesofmy]

my favourite game to play on my steam deck is kind of like an offshoot of tamagotchi exclusively for portable consoles, it's where you carry your deck around your house with you all day and never open it and now it's time for beddy bye so you tuck it in bed beside you and you go to sleep

[taexoxosgf]

FORMULA 1

PAIRING race car driver!lee mark x fem!reader

WORDS 3.5k

SYNOPSIS mark just looks too good to resist after his race.

WARNINGS explicit sexual content (too lazy to add deets), car sex, fluff, friends with benefits, they’re in denial lol

NOTES my first fic on tumblr <3 my bb

You spot Mark across the airport track.

Sitting in his newly acquired Nissan Skyline GT-R 34, one arm hangs out of the window. He lifts the same arm to bring a cigarette to his lips, the cloud of smoke seemingly following in slow motion. His hair damp due to the forgotten rain from the hour before. The same cherry red hair, now longer and styled, no longer covering his forehead. A piece dangling in front of his eyes.

Individuals began dispersing now that the race had ended. Of course, Mark was the first to cross the finish line. He always was.

You often attended his races but not solely for him. The people were always friendly, and any kind of race was exhilarating to watch. The cars maneuver between each other, attempting to avoid collision. If anyone of the racers tried to pull a trick and it went wrong, it would turn into something much scarier than a race.

You loved watching him race, even more, the activities afterward. You two weren’t by any means exclusive, but the both of you hadn’t been with anyone else since meeting each other. People could call it a situationship. Some label it as friends with benefits. Whatever it was, Mark’s texts were what you looked forward to late into the night. But today, he texts you earlier than usual.

ML: Enjoying the view?

ML: I know I am

You scoff, looking back up and immediately locking eyes with him. A smirk adorning his smug face.

ML: Come here.

You: I’m not gonna run to you like a dog. You come here.

ML: Baby don’t be like that

You: Stopped by to watch ur race. It’s over now, so I’m leaving

You: Bye

Not sparing him another glance, you make your way off the track. Feeling his eyes on you, your hips sway with every step. The denim mini-skirt you chose to wear rides up, and the backless top reveals the perfect amount of skin as Mark's eyes are glued to your figure.

People are standing outside their cars, talking, eating, the usual at car meets. It’s almost like a tailgate before a football game. The atmosphere was always welcoming and it was easy to make acquaintances that could turn into close friends.

There’s one every week, and having gone to them for the past 2 months, there are many familiar faces. You’ve even made close friends with Ningning, another racer, who you bonded with due to her beating Mark in a race when they were still rookies.

There’s Jaemin too, who you met through Ningning. He always greets you with a smile, his eyes staying on yours a little too long after every response.

Your conversations with Jaemin never last longer than five minutes with Mark always making up an excuse for you to leave. And when you finish protesting to Mark, you look back, and Jaemin is already 20 feet away, grabbing another plate of food with Ningning.

You’d like to think Mark gets jealous. Maybe he does, but then, you remind yourself of the mutual agreement of ‘no strings’ and remember he couldn’t be. So you push any second thoughts in the back of your mind.

Unlocking your car, your fingers are wrapped around the handle when another hand grabs ahold of your wrist, spinning you around to your back.

The cold exterior of the car hitting your bare back causes goosebumps to appear all over your body.

You’re met face-to-face with Mark. He is so close you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning your face while his lower body is completely pressed up against you. He’s got you trapped in between his arms; his hands placed flat onto the hood of the vehicle.

“Leaving so soon?”

You smirk at his inquiry, knowing he always gives in.

“Just came by to watch the race. The race is over, isn’t it?” Your nonchalant response comes out softer than intended, but he doesn’t see through you.

Mark doesn’t utter a word while you continue with the act. His dark orbs stare into yours and scan down, stopping at the stained lips in front of him. Before disrupting the silence, he uses his thumb to smear the lipstick at the corner of your lips outward. “I prefer your lipstick messy,” he says softly.

All you do is continue to look into his eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards. His small meaningless comments have been igniting a fuzzy feeling in your chest lately. Even if it was playful.

You know what this means.

I don’t even want to think about it.

There was a mutual agreement, and you swore never to break it. But can one control it? If this unspoken feeling was true, you couldn’t bring yourself to end it, but your chest feels heavier every second you’re by his side. The walls you put up to protect yourself seem to crack a little more each time, worsening as you realize he doesn’t seem to have the same internal battles.

You think to yourself how it fucking sucks but suppress it because you’ll live.

Mark notices you’re thinking about something as your eyes dance around his face. He wants to ask you what it is that has you daydreaming, but he seizes the opportunity to admire you. You’re so beautiful. He wants to tell you, but you both know it crosses boundaries. The word was mutually agreed as too intimate, but it’s at the tip of his tongue. The urge to compliment you, to text you in the day rather than the middle of the night, to spend more time with you, he yearns for more. But you always play along with his games and seem content with what you both have now, so he doesn’t do anything to catch you off guard. It’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you smile. This feeling is foreign to him, but Mark welcomes it.

“Wow, you have a way with words Mark Lee,” sarcasm oozing from your retort.

‘Fuck, say my full name again,” he exclaims as he throws his head back.

You fully laugh, your arm giving him a playful push to his shoulder. You’re both smiling ear-to-ear, the flirty mood turning into something different. It had been happening much more recently.

His body was still pressed onto yours, his arms caging you between himself and the car. Going onto your toes, you bring your lips to his. It’s a soft, sweet kiss.

As you lean back onto the car, Mark doesn’t utter another word. He simply kisses you again, a little rougher this time, and your arms immediately move around his neck. One of his arms snakes from the hood of the car to your ribcage, his fingertips slowly inching downwards and finally pressing harder at the curve of your waist.

The kiss was what you could say, electric. It was as if the spark began at your lips and the electricity followed down to Mark’s erect length, currently already straining against his jeans. What you didn’t know was Mark had been thinking about you all day. When he would see your face, when he would speak to you, and what you would say as he was in between your legs. All the unrequited feelings and lust you both felt pouring into this kiss and every kiss before and after.

Your lips fit each other perfectly, moving in sync. Mark swallows your moan when you feel your tongue caressing against his. He was so enamored with you, having difficulty coming out from the daze that is you.

You finally pull back to catch your breath; Lips swollen and the nude lipstick smudged. You’re panting heavily against his mouth and your fingertips feel as if they’re leaving crescent marks around his neck. The lust between Mark and yourself was something you never experienced before. Being turned on just from a short makeout was nonexistent until Mark. If you were to check your panties right now, you’re sure they would be soaked; feeling as if you’re losing sanity every second that passes.

“You know, if you were good and just walked over to my car earlier, I would have made you come twice by now.” He’s gazing at you with those hooded eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing while he swallows. You’re playfully trailing your nails against his neck and notice the purple marks that once covered it are now faded. I’ll have to fix that.

You then notice the goosebumps that appear on his skin as your nails graze his skin.

“Since when do you like good girls?”

Mark’s inked hand plays with the strands of hair that hover over your cheekbones and continue to trace your jawline until they reach your chin. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting it to bring your face closer to his.

He’s still looking at you with naked lust. His head tilted to the side while his lips are practically touching yours.

“I did until I met you.”

“Shit,” you rasp against Mark’s mouth.

One minute you were standing outside and now you are in the backseat of his fucking brand new car making out like you both had not seen each other in months. It was always like this, aggressive and full of want. But you loved it. Mark knew you did, so he never hesitated on being rougher in bed.

You're straddling his thighs and it feels as if he’s everywhere at once. The feel of his warm hands palms your ass, guiding you as you grind on his clothed cock that becomes harder by the second. It feels too good, chasing euphoria every time you’re with him. “Oh my god,” you pant against his mouth. It isn’t long before you feel the grip of his fingers as he pries your mouth open, not hesitating to slip his tongue into it again.

Your fingers are running through his hair, pulling on his black locks as the makeout becomes more intense, and Mark grunts at the feeling.

His sounds turn you on even more. The kiss is still messy and hot as he slightly bucks his hips upwards, creating more friction. Your bodies mold together, fitting each other perfectly like a puzzle.

You break away from his lips to trail kisses from his jawline down his neck, sucking and nipping to leave fresh marks against his collarbone. His head leans further back against the headrest, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch. He’s panting harder now, the sounds erupting from his throat being music to your ears. It only encourages you further, but you don’t notice his hand skimming your inner thigh.

His fingers, which are painted in ink, shift higher in an attempt to move your panties underneath your skirt to the side, but they come directly in contact with your slick.

“Fucking shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?” he asks you, and you hum in response, still working at his neck.

“Slut. Slut who always just wants to fuck. Nothing else.”

“Your slut. Who always just wants to get fucked by you,” you whisper; Swollen lips grazing his ear as the words leave them.

He says nothing more with words, responding by slipping two fingers into you.

You gasped at the sudden force. It feels too good, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you with a look you can't comprehend.

Your fingers inch up to move a curl out of his eyes. “Move, please Mark.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You were surprised by the sudden expression. One moment he was acting like he always does, then he offered you small compliments. Though it was weird timing to be sentimental, you couldn’t help but feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. It catches you off guard and the fuzzy feeling you never experienced before meeting him comes back. The same fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach came and went with certain words like these, not just his actions. It starts to scare you because every time, it seems you both stray further from the initial agreement.

“What’s gotten you so cheesy all of a sudden?” your eyes avoid him while you play with the same long curl.

“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know,” he offers a small smile. You swear you see a hint of something loving in his eyes. But it couldn’t be, you think. He’s just saying things in the heat of the moment.

You brush off what could be Mark’s slight falter from his strong persona; no longer avoiding his eyes, you connect your lips to his once again.

He gives in, both of you melting into the kiss. It's too intoxicating yet again. Both of your hands are on each other as if the other would somehow disappear.

His fingers begin to move, and you gasp against his mouth because you had forgotten Mark’s fingers were still inside of you due to his statement. Your surprise only allows him immediately to go for your neck; kissing your sensitive spots. Nipping and licking over it to slightly ease the burn.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.”

He speeds up the pace, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot. The relief only increases as you get closer to your orgasm. Jaw slacked open as you pant against his ear.

“ Mark, right there,” you mewl.

His fingers are so deep inside you, and he finally adds a third finger. You already feel full, and think about how good his cock would feel after the satisfying burn. Of course, that wasn’t enough for Mark, so his thumb begins circling your clit, adding more stimulation. The sensation is too good to describe, and you roll your hips, grinding onto his fingers in hopes of increasing the amount of pleasure.

You’re a mess. Already feeling fucked out before taking his cock and your pussy continues to swallow Mark’s inked fingers as the arousal continues to drip down, the sound letting you know of the mess you’re making. But you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on the feeling in your lower stomach increasing.

“Please Mark. Faster. Don’t stop,” you pant out as you chase the awaited high.

“Love it when you beg,” he whispers. His hot breath against your lobe.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the wave of your orgasm arrives before you can utter a warning. Mark continues to pump his fingers inside of you, the pleasure becoming more intense. You whimper against his neck as you ride out your orgasm.

Mark pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth. He makes sure you’re watching as his tongue licks a long stripe from his knuckles, finally wrapping his lips around his fingers.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he praises.

As the corner of your lips lifts, your hand is already unbuttoning his jeans. Slipping your hands in, you begin to palm his cock through his boxers, Mark attempting to suppress a low groan from your actions. The sound alone has you trying to squeeze your thighs together; even after the intense orgasm you just experienced. Only Mark could make you feel this way. He was the only one who could turn you on as much as he did.

“Don’t tease, slut.”

“Just having some fun,” you counter against his mouth.

As you help Mark slip his pants and boxers off, his cock is fully hard, the pink tip leaking precum. Mark’s dick was on the larger side, making you feel full every time you both would have sex. It had surprised you the first time, expecting it to be average, but it definitely was not. This motherfucker knew it too, assuring you that ‘you could take it’ as he roughly thrusted in and out of you.

“Spit on it,” he demands.

From the straddle position on his thighs, you lower your head, letting saliva slowly drip down onto his cock.

Mark gives praise with a ‘good girl’ as you stroke him. You finally reposition onto your knees beside his thighs, feeling his rough hands on your waist before helping you lower yourself onto him. As you’re slowly sinking onto his cock, you both gasp.

Mark roughly smashes his lips by pulling onto your neck as you adjust to his size.

The feeling was literal heaven.

Oh, how you could never get used to this.

His long fingers are wrapped around your neck, squeezing as you start to slowly grind against his cock. He swallows your moans and your fingers that were initially gripping his hair move to his shoulders and you finally pull back to begin bouncing on his cock.

Your pussy envelops his cock, squeezing at the intense amount of pleasure that runs through your veins.

Mark finds himself marveling at your breasts bouncing in front of him, immediately wrapping his lips around your nipples. His fingers dig into your skin as the pleasure increases for the both of you.

A breathy whimper emits from your throat and it takes everything to not close your eyes. Mark hated when you closed your eyes, always wanting to look at you as arousal bled through your orbs.

“How are you always this tight baby? Fuck,” he rasps. Looking at him, you can say he’s almost as fucked out as you. You knew Mark well enough to know when he was feeling more than he let on.

You whimpered as a response. The small moans and wet sounds of skin slapping filled the empty air of the vehicle. Mark continues to squeeze your throat, the pressure only heightening the feeling in your lower torso. At the inkling of your orgasm, Mark feels you clench around him and groans against your tits.

As you’re bouncing on his cock, Mark matches your rhythm and bucks his hips into you, hitting your g-spot. It’s rough and fast, the brutal pace causing your moans to heighten in pitch. You couldn’t take it anymore. The imaginary band in your stomach is on the verge of snapping again. You were so sensitive from the first orgasm that the second one was not far from reach.

“Ma-arkk, so close,” you yelp, emitting words that were almost incoherent.

“Come for me baby, milk my cock.”

Putting all your remaining energy into riding him, you feel Mark’s fingers leave your waist and trail down to your clit, pressing circles. “Fuck! Mark!”

This was all you needed to come undone, your eyes squeezing shut and your body freezing momentarily as the overwhelming high washes over you. Your pussy tightens around his cock, spasming but not stopping Mark from continuing to drive his length into you with renewed vigor.

“Fuck baby, you’ll make me-”

Your mouth is open in an ‘o.’ A moan threatening to leave your throat but nothing is heard.

“Shit, you’re so tight right now,” Mark utters, throwing his head back against the headrest. He lets go of your throat, placing both of his hands at your waist to now reach his high. As he continues to abuse your cunt, all is heard are your sobbed curses into his shoulder, the intense feeling still lingering.

Your body was loose, facial features neutralizing as you come down from your euphoria. You were tired, having difficulty helping Mark but tried your best to move. The burning feeling in your thighs came and grew stronger but you could tell he was close due to his features scrunching slightly, focus becoming blurred.

The tension building in his body was on the verge of snapping. He was so close, wanting it so badly for the reason that the high of the orgasm seeped through his veins like a drug.

“Inside of me. Want you to fill me up Lee,” your voice enough to be the last straw for Mark.

His body began to heat up, nothing but one last shout of your name as he came into you.

“Fuck.”

You were spent every time, your limp body falling forward onto him. Your cheek rested on his shoulder, nothing but silence and warmth pervading the air.

Mark’s slender fingers dance on your thighs, both of you savoring the comfortable tranquility before he reaches up to your chin to bring your face to his.

“Lemme take you out on a date. For real. A real date.”

You chuckle at his confession, mistaking it for a funny gag. “Ha-ha very funny.”

“I’m being serious. You don’t think I like you?” he replies slightly taken aback.

“I just thought you didn’t want anything serious. What changed?”

His orbs stare into yours for a few seconds before he responds. “You. I wanna take you out on a date because I really like you.”

“I like you too, Mark.” It was a relief to finally be able to say it out loud.

“But you just came in me, so maybe date talk later?” you chuckle.

“Okay, bet. I can work with that,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours once again, never getting sick of the enigma that is you.

[kittenlittle24]

Appendicitis

GIF not mine, comment, like and reblog!

Masterlist

Rushing to the hospital after your son woke up from a nap crying from a stomach ache and fever, you went to Princeton-Plainsboro knowing only there are doctors you can trust.

Your son has been complaining about stomach aches all morning, your husband already left for work, thinking it was just a bug you let him stay home and rest. However when he woke up screaming and crying and with a fever you made the decision to go in.

A young male doctor greeted you. One you never met before nor heard of.

He asked him to lay back but you stopped him before he could examine him.

“I want you to page Dr Gregory House.”

Sighing and rubbing his head, “Miss, Dr. House is very busy and he doesn’t treat kids with belly aches.”

Crossing your arms, “He will treat this kid. Page him or I will march straight to Dr. Cuddy.”

Still crying, your son tugged on your shirt, his other arm wrapped around his stomach, “I want my daddy.”

You hugged him and stroked his hair, while the doctor left the examination room.

You tried everything in your power to calm him down, though nothing helped.

Around 20 minutes later the door opened and the same young doctor entered the room. Standing from your seat, “I told you I want Doc-“

“Yeah, yeah, doctor House is here,” a voice interrupted from the doorway.

He limped inside, once he saw who it was that demanded his presence, a serious look set on his features. Gently he maneuvered your son to a lying position to examine his stomach.

He looked up at him, “Daddy, my tummy really hurts.”

The young doctor froze in shock, mouth gaping open.

“I want complete blood and urine tests. Also, get an X-ray and ultrasound of the abdomen and chest,” he ordered the doctor before he turned to you, “Seems like Appendicitis, a surgeon will operate to take out the infected appendix. This is called an appendectomy. Usually, surgeons make 3 small cuts in the belly and use a small device called a laparoscope to remove the appendix. He’ll probably get to go home today.”

Leaning down he kissed the top of the boy’s head and moved to hug you, he whispered words of comfort and encouragement, saying you did good by bringing him. He stayed close to you the whole time, only leaving to monitor the tests are doing properly and keep your son calm.

A brunette doctor sat next to you and handed you a mug of coffee. Thanking her you took a big sip and put your hands around the warm mug.

“So you’re house’s wife?”

Shrugging, “We never married but I think it’s as close as it gets.”

“And he’s his son?”

You both looked up upon hearing a hard fake cough interrupting her interrogation.

“If you’re done grilling her Dr. Cameron you could make yourself useful anywhere else.” He told her and took her seat after she left the waiting room.

Putting his arm around you, he pulled you to lean on his chest. About a torturous hour later a surgeon came out to say the surgery went well and your son is being moved to a recovery room.

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you let yourself collapse into House’s arms, finally feeling the stress leave your body. He kissed your temple and rubbed your arm, “He’s fine, probably going to demand unreasonable amounts of ice cream for being brave.”

Laughing you turned to kiss him, “He can have it. Thank you,”

Scrunching his eyebrows, “Are you thanking me for doing my job or being his dad?”

You shook your head, “For putting up with me.”

[catboyieejeno]

nct dream reaction ¡! ❞

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

content: smut, cursing, mature, pet names (baby, babe, doll, etc.)

18+ ! minors do not interact

masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mark lee

mark had spent the last few hours hunched over the soundboard, paper and pen clutched in hand as he racked his brain for something, anything that would make the verse he was writing not entirely dull. but it was so hard to think, to conjure a single logical or productive thought, when you were sat right beside him, doing what you were.

your fingertips are scratching at his scalp, right above the nape of his neck. meanwhile, your other hand busies itself on his thigh, nails tracing random shapes over the material his sweats. frustrated, tired, and in a haze of unorganized thoughts and ideas, mark rolls his head back into the palm of your hand with a low hiss.

“something about this verse doesn't sound right,"

"i think you've just been looking at it too long," you press your lips softly into his cheek and he sighs at the feeling.

"maybe," hums mark, "i just want to finish already,"

"what if,” you whisper, “you take a break for a few minutes, that way you can look at it with new eyes, find out what’s wrong with it.”

the feeling of your breath on the shell of his ear makes his hair stand on end. the bare minimum— that’s all you have to do and you have mark’s head spinning, analyzing whether or not your alleged ‘break’ really implied something else. immediately, he feels the blood rush to his-

what is he doing? he needs to keep working on the song.

he shakes his head. mark readjusts his pants, but the gesture doesn't go unnoticed by you. you're quick to catch the way he fixes himself and wipes the sweat off his palms. “babe,” he tries.

“yes?” your voice is sweet and airy, resembling a pant, with fingers lightly trailing his waistline.

“baby.” there’s an underlying warning to his tone this time; nevertheless, you can sense the bit of desperation he fails to hide.

with your thumb, you lift the waistband and slip your hand inside in one smooth motion. at the same time, your lips attach to his neck.

"i need to finish the song," his head tilts to make space for you, contradicting his words, and you smirk against his skin as you feel him gulp.

"you need a break, baby,"

"mmph," why did you have him so hooked, "no, i need to work-"

"then work," you place your hand on him over his underwear, "no one's stopping you,"

you're giving his bulge a squeeze, teeth grazing his neck, when mark mentally thanks the heavens that he's sitting. otherwise, he's sure his knees would've given out.

"yeah, but," he gasps, "i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ huang renjun

"jun,"

renjun hums in response, not looking up from the book on his chest. he's lying down, eyes scanning the text on the pages while his other hand rests on his stomach, fingers bouncing mindlessly.

with a pout settled on your bottom lip, you sit beside him on your knees, practically begging for any bit of his attention.

all of your attempts to divert his focus away from that damned book have been overlooked. you tried changing your shirt, toying with your bra, and nothing. he didn't even bother to try and sneak a glance when you pulled up your skirt, flashing your pink panties at him.

it was all getting rather annoying.

daringly, your place your hand over his, maneuvering it slowly down until you stop right over his crotch.

"tsk tsk," he moves his hand back up, "what are you doing?"

"junnie," you mewl, fingers tracing the outline of him.

he remains unmoving until you decide you've had enough. when your hand goes into his pants, his lips part slightly, sharply drawing in a breath, and his eyes finally break away from the page to look at you. they're wide open in shock.

"i've been trying to get your attention for the last 20 minutes,"

"well, you should've just asked." he laughs, sounding a little cocky. your eyes narrow at him when he speaks again, "i'll make it up to you, baby," when he goes to close the book, you stop the motion of your wrist, a devilish idea coming to mind.

"no,"

"what?"

"i want you to keep reading," you say matter-of-factly. he's taken aback when your strokes get bolder and you feel him getting harder in your hand, "since you didn't want to pay any attention to me, you can keep reading."

"but i wanna make you feel good-"

"keep reading or i'll stop."

renjun picks up his book hurriedly and flips it open to where he left off. this time, when you pull your shirt off, his eyes are roaming your skin rather than the words of his novel, shallow breaths leaving his parted lips.

he's fully hard now, a flustered mess, uttering whispered pleas of your name.

"baby, that feels so-" he whines quietly.

"focus on your book."

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck." his hips buck up into your hand, book falling to the side as he comes into your fist.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lee jeno

about five minutes ago, you were cursing the day you ever let your boyfriend talk you into working out with him.

jeno is normally sweet, shy, affectionate, considerate, but for some reason, when he steps through the doors of the gym, he discovers each and every new way to push all of your buttons.

he’d try to… encourage you throughout your routine, which resulted in you guys bickering the whole way home because he “just couldn’t let you do it at your own pace.” that, or he’d all-together forget about you until he was done with his own work out, headphones plugged in and blasting for 2, sometimes even 3 hours.

tonight, he had dragged you to a small gym that he claimed had less people, for your comfort and his privacy as an idol, and while that was true, you couldn’t help but think to yourself, of course there’s going to be less people— no one is at the gym at two in the fucking morning.

now, however, you’re leaning against the wall, fully over even attempting to finish your work out, watching as jeno does his usual bicep curls in nothing but his tiny black shorts and a matching tank that is skin-tight.

his jaw is locked and tense, face twisting as he strains while pulling up the weights during the rep. sweat makes the ends of his hair stick to his forehead, and when he’s done, he huffs, chest heaving. even the way he grabs his water to gulp it down is messing with your head.

yeah… maybe you didn’t hate the gym that much.

you don’t know what’s different about today, but you’ve been rubbing your thighs together for the last 30 minutes, hoping he’d announce soon that he’s close to done. when that moment never comes, you take matters into your own hands.

“hi, jen,” you stride over to him, a sly smile playing at your lips.

“hey, pretty baby. i’m almost finished, i just have to do-“

blatantly disregarding what he was talking about, you lean in until your lips are kissing the corner of his, “i can’t watch you work out anymore,” you whine, “it’s driving me crazy,”

confused and oblivious as ever, jeno pulls his eyebrows together, “well, i’m sorry, i thought you liked coming here with me-“

“not that kind of crazy, love,” your hand grabs his, guiding it between your legs, “the kind where i want you to bend me over any piece of equipment in here.”

“w-wha-well, i uhm-“

he swallows thickly when you bring your other hand into his shorts, grabbing his dick and pumping it a few times. his hand stays between your legs, though he doesn’t move.

“baby, i promise,” he pants, “this is my last set and then i’m taking you home and we can-“

“why can’t we do it here?”

“are you insane? what if somebody comes in? i have-shit- i have one more set and- ohh, aah-“

“jeno?”

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

jeno’s arm flies back to lean his weight against whatever machine is behind him, trying to stay upright. his fingers finally start moving, rubbing some much needed friction to the spot between your legs. his brain has become mush in less than 2 minutes, lost in the pleasure that you’re giving him. his work out is long forgotten as he groans out your name.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lee donghyuck

"you can't sleep with your makeup on, doll," hyuck grumbles, "stop fighting me on this,"

he straddles your lap to keep you from wiggling around, hovering over you with a make-up removing wipe wrapped between his long fingers.

his cheeks are a delicious shade of red, shiny from the sheer layer of sweat that covers his pretty features. he looks boyish and unruly, hair falling messily over his glossed-over eyes as they stare into your own.

your face is surely mirroring his, flushed from all of the drinks in your system. what started as a date night with your boyfriend ended with you having close to a bottle and half of wine each, not that you’re complaining. his body is warm above yours, clouding your judgement more than the alcohol ever could. greedily, your hands wander up his thighs.

hyuck is rambling and slurring distractedly, using the scented wipe to gently swipe away the remnants of product from under your eyes, "it's not good for your skin if you leave your makeup on, you know that-" you can't even focus on what he's lecturing you on because his lips are stained red from the wine, and he seems to have been licking them, given how wet they are.

"hyuck, baby."

"-yes?"

you pucker up your lips, "give me a kiss."

he complies with a cheeky smile, mouth molding obediently against yours. he lets out a throaty moan at your affection.

your fingers fly to the button on his jeans, undoing them. hyuck quickly pulls back, “baby, let me take off your makeup first,”

“but i wanna feel you,” you mumble innocently, hands reaching for the hem of his underwear.

“oh, believe me,” as maliciously as ever, he tongues his cheek, eyebrows wiggling, “you will.”

working as fast and gently as possible, he continues to wipe your face, jaw tightening as you grope him, “hmm, y/n.”

“what’s wrong, baby?”

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck." his head falls into the crook of your shoulder and he shudders at the feeling of your cool hands wrapping around his base. under your palm, you feel him twitch, but hyuck is determined to remain unfazed and not engage in your little game until he’s done.

he composes himself and sighs. another wipe is taken from the pack, softly cleaning your forehead and cheeks.

“shit–alright,” he seethes as you squeeze his tip. hyuck tosses the wipe aside, grunting. your boyfriend roughly grabs your face with one hand, making you stop your teasing, “all done.”

instantly, he leans in, letting his lips meet yours again. this kiss is more lustful than the last; it’s sloppy and needy, and when he pulls away for air, he stays so close that he practically breathes his next words into your mouth, “i should’ve left your makeup on so you could watch me ruin it.”

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ na jaemin

it's unfortunate that you're a light sleeper, seeing as it makes it quite difficult for your boyfriend to do something nice for you.

this morning, jaemin had woken up an hour before you usually do with the intention to surprise you by making breakfast and delivering it to you in bed.

he had everything worked out: he set his alarm on his phone and kept it tucked under his pillow so he could rush to silence it once he woke up, hoping that you'd continue to sleep undisturbed. from there, he rolled out of bed as quietly as possible, tip-toeing out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to make you the best breakfast-in-bed ever.

everything was going according to plan, until now. he had just scooped the first bit of pancake batter into the pan when the padding of your feet alerts him of your presence. your arms wrap around his waist, nose nuzzling into his back.

like a child who didn’t get his way, jaemin whines out and stomps his feet a bit, "babe, you weren't supposed to be up yet.”

"i felt you get up, jaem," you laugh, "let me help you-"

"nope! you're not allowed to do anything. this was supposed to be a surprise,"

"alright, fine."

when you try to pull away to get ahead on the dishes, jaemin's hand drags you back in, right to where you were on his waist.

well, if he won't let you let you help in the kitchen, maybe you can help a different way.

mischievously, your teeth graze his back and shoulders, hands sliding under his shirt to feel the muscles on his stomach, which immediately tense at the contact of your cold fingers. when your actions elicit a reaction from him, a small knowing scoff that told you that he knew exactly what you were up to, you continue your efforts, trailing down to loosen the drawstrings of his joggers.

"oh, yeah," he hums when you touch him. no more than a second later, the free hand that isn’t busy flipping pancakes comes down to wrap over yours, guiding it up and down on his length, “you’re so naughty.”

"i just wanna repay you for getting up early to make me breakfast,"

"if you keep going," he whimpers, "i might end up wanting something else for breakfast," jaemin's chest is heaving at this point.

"the food's gonna burn," you half-heartedly warn, mercilessly continuing your pace.

"well, it just might 'cause i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

there's a clattering noise when the pan is pushed back and off the heat, the spatula dropping onto the counter as jaemin pulls your hand and his from his pants.

he quickly flips off the stove and turns to you, hands wrapping around your thighs to pick you up, situating you on the empty kitchen island.

“breakfast can wait.” he mumbles, then captures your mouth in a kiss.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ zhong chenle

“chenle.”

“the game’s almost over,”

“chenle!”

“there’s 10 minutes left!”

“you’re watching highlights! you can literally watch those whenever!”

“now is also whenever!” he cleverly retorts.

okay, think. that’s the third video he’s watched in a row, the third time he’s fed you the same explanation and promised that this highlight video would be the last.

so, think: how can you get him off his stupid phone?

“you wanna watch your highlights? okay,” you shrug, sitting beside him on the couch.

“okay?” he asks, as if your previous statement is entirely foreign to him, and truthfully, it is. you had never given up so easily before. in fact, chenle had grown to love the banter. half of the time, the only reason he really insists on watching his highlight clips for so long is because he loves to watch you yearn for his attention.

“yep.”

“i’ll be done after this one,” he reminds you, watching closely for your reaction.

you nod nonchalantly, “right.” and give him a forced smile.

you give him a few seconds to get back into the video before you bring your hand over to his thigh. as expected, he doesn’t say anything, continuing his act in hopes that you’ll go back to urging him to shut the video off.

but this time, unlike the others, you remain just as stoic, sneakily inching closer and closer. it’s only a matter of time before he catches on, so you reach over in one motion and undo the button of his pants, putting your hand inside.

oh. so that’s your play?

you catch onto the way his eyes widen for a fleeting moment, but he’s quick to cover it up.

gently, you rub him, leaning in to leave kisses on his cheek, the kind that are so light and soft that they invite goosebumps to spread through his neck and arms.

he resists all urges to shudder or succumb to your touch; instead, he opts for taking his bottom lip between his teeth, a last measure to remain sane as you pleasure him. he can’t care less about the highlights anymore, but he’s stubborn and refuses to lose, so his eyes stay locked on the screen although his thoughts are entirely elsewhere.

you’re supposed to beg for him, not the other way around.

but that’s easier said than done, especially when you’re palming him, pre-cum leaking from his tip as his mind wanders off the game, clinging to everything that is you.

chenle squeezes his eyes shut for a second.

“what’s the matter?”

“nothing.” he says through gritted teeth.

you keep toying with him, bringing your other hand to the button of your own shorts. at this, chenle’s eyes snap over and he mentally curses, blowing air through his nostrils harshly.

his fingers are turning white from the way he’s gripping his phone with so much force. every stroke of your hand is wearing him down, bringing him closer to his climax, but he doesn’t want to finish yet, not before he’s been inside of you.

“chenle, baby, you’re not even watching-“

“yeah, i know, that’s because i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ park jisung

“and then, if you press these buttons, your attack upgrades and deals more damage…”

if you’re being honest, everything jisung has said about his new switch game, which he’s explaining to you with so much interest and passion, is going in one ear and out the other.

it’s not that you don’t care, you do! you’re more than happy to sit and listen to him go on about something he’s excited about, but you simply don’t know what’s gotten into you today.

all you can seem to focus on is him.

his lips are plump, looking softer and more kissable than ever, and you think you may pass out when his tongue darts out to wet them. now, they’re glossed over, just like his pretty brown eyes that reflect the video game screen from the console resting on his chest.

your leg lies across his body, unable to keep still with the ache starting to flourish at your core. you’re practically grinding on his thigh and he’s oblivious as ever.

the fingers that hug his waist have now developed a mind of their own: they dance over his stomach and travel south until they make their way under jisung’s waistband.

“what-“ he clears his throat to cover the way his voice cracks, “what are you doing?”

“what are you talking about?”

all of his muscles tense up, “with your, uhm, hand?”

“oh,” you feign surprise, batting your eyes with innocence as if there could be no another reason your hand was holding his crotch, “it’s warm, my fingers were getting cold,”

he nods rather awkwardly, mumbling something that implies he understands and tries to continue with his explanation.

key word: tries.

his speech is a mess and a nervous sweat has broken out on his forehead. he’s even begun to explain things about the game wrong, spewing out nervous laughs in between weak apologies.

as hard as he’s trying to keep his act together, there’s one thing that blatantly gives him away. under your hand, you can feel him getting hard, and he knew it, too.

the entire time he’s talking, he’s growing harder and harder in your palm and you just cant resist moving a bit.

“aah, that feels-“

“so, what does that character do, again?”

jisung blinks at you with wide eyes, an look of disbelief on his face. after a pause, he answers you quietly.

“they—mmh, they shoot these uhm-“

you nod teasingly, “uh-huh?”

“these fireballs that-“ defeated, he groans out, “baby…”

“woah, fireballs?!”

“baby, i’ll tell you about the game later. right now, i-“ he sets the switch aside and you pout in false disappointment.

“what? why?”

"because—i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

ੈ♡˳

[pearlfeline]

homesick

peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tw: none

a/n: i used to write for hp and i tried to start anew with this blog but it failed lol. (might still write for hp if i feel like it) but i luv peter and wanted to write for him so bad. i kinda didn't know how to end this but i thought it was fun to write anyway. thanks for reading.

"What can I getcha?" You attempted a decent smile, though Peter could tell you were tired. He knew tired. He IS tired.

Peter, blinking that thought away, snaps back into reality. He is in a small diner, and he took too long deciding outside the door if he wanted to go inside, so to avoid looking stupid he shuffled inside and sat down.

"Banana wheat cake... Is it any good?" He lets out a dry chuckle.

You press your lips into a thin line. "I know I work here but..." You bit your bottom lip, tucking your pen behind your ear. You drew closer to Peter so he could hear you. "It sucks. Get the breakfast combo." You winked, tracing a circle around the menu item. Peter unintentionally takes in a whiff of your perfume, giving him a hard time remembering what you just recommended.

"It comes with a free coffee." You flip open your notepad again, and as you grab the pen from behind your ear, a piece of hair falls to your face.

"I-I'll get that then." Peter closes the menu handing it back to you.

"Great. Bacon or sausage?"

Peter catches a lump in his throat. Almost as if words were filling to the brim and he couldn't say a word.

"Bacon." He smiles but keeps his gaze on his hands. They were almost uncontrollably fiddling with each other.

"Got it. I'll be right back with that."

Peter watches as you quickly let go of your charm to catch up with refills of coffee. You worked hard every day just to make rent but you never complained. Peter was never a customer until today, yet he could tell so much about you. His eyes couldn't help but follow you wherever you went.

His eyes followed you around the counter, grabbing a tray and putting his food on it. You were trying to keep him from waiting any longer and picked up the pace approaching his booth.

“Oh!” You slip, losing grip of the tray holding Peter’s breakfast.

Before you could react to the impact of the floor, you were pulled up. You opened your eyes and find Peter’s arm over your waist, successfully maneuvering the tray to grab everything that flew.

“Great reflexes.” You looked up at him with bewilderment.

“Thanks.” He shyly loosened his grip on your waist. You pull down and flatten your apron. “Whew. That was incredibly lame of me but surprisingly cool for you.” You let out a chuckle, making sure nothing was ruined on his plate.

“Why surprising?” He replied. “Do I look like a loser?” He suppressed a small smile.

“No you just look more… smart cool and maybe a possible ninja? I don’t know what else to call what you just did.”

Peter lets his smile crack a little, taking a sip of his previously airborne coffee.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not lacking physically because you’re a book smart type of guy.” You give him a quick once over cheekily.

Before Peter can panic and come up with a mess of a response, a disgruntled old man cuts the moment short. “Coffee! Hello?” He slams his mug on the table.

“Duty calls.” You gave him a small wave, quickly making your way to the opposite side of the diner.

Peter spent the remainder of his time quietly finishing his breakfast, stealing quick glances at you.

Watching you smile even though you’re probably overwhelmed and exhausted. The hardest part was deciding when to leave. He had to go eventually to avoid being a creep. He had finished his food ten minutes ago. Before he leaves, he folds a $20 dollar bill into an origami heart, leaving it on the table.

The next morning, Peter walked a little faster, posture a little straighter, and smiled a little more.

Peter wanted to see you again. He knew not to tell you about the past, but what would be so wrong just talking to you? He attempts a nonchalant glance through the windows, making sure you were inside before walking in himself.

Peter gives you a shy head nod, making his way to sit at the counter instead of a booth.

"There's the generous tipper from yesterday. Hi, I'll be right with you." You got up from speaking to your coworker and greeted Peter.

"Was my service that good?" You flip open your notepad.

"The best." Peter pretends to study your name tag. "...Y/N."

"Well, thanks..?" You tilted your head slightly.

"Peter."

"Ah, Thank you, Peter."

"I won't be her for long, I just wanted a coffee."

"And you came here?" You snickered. You only half meant that statement. You didn't know why, but seeing him a second time was making your dreary work day go by easier.

"Yeah, in case you decided to fall again today."

You gasp, being dramatically 'offended'. "I'll let that comment slide... Since you gave me that nice tip. Even though I was struggling to unravel it for a while in my car." You grab a pot of coffee, pouring it into a cup that says 'print design here'.

"Thanks." Peter chuckles.

"No sugar?" You asked.

Peter's gaze slowly reached yours. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" You raise an eyebrow innocently. "Nobody here drinks black coffee unless they're over fifty or a pretentious student. Oh, were you afraid to ask this whole time? Hold on." You reach and dig into the pocket of your apron.

"N-no, it's fine. I don't really drink sweet coffee anymore." Peter's face falls in defeat. Of course, you wouldn't remember his order. Peter had to remind himself that he was a customer and a customer only to you.

"So, you're a pretentious student huh? No wonder I got a big tip. Let me guess you're studying tech?"

Peter shakes his head. "Biochemistry. Though, I do have somewhat of a tech background. I-" Peter almost rambles on but catches himself. "I'm poor. Not really enough money to be pretentious." He sinks into his seat, taking a sip to cover his face.

"Dude, do you know how tipping works? You can't be poor and tip me $20 after a breakfast combo from a dingy part of the city."

"You work hard." Peter scratches his neck. "...At least from what I've seen." He sighs.

"Are you actually poor?" You start wiping down the counter to keep your boss off your back for being unproductive.

Peter sheepishly avoids your eyes.

"...I'm poor too." You smiled. "If that wasn't painfully obvious by how I look."

"No. Not at all." Peter took this opportunity to take in your appearance. You looked exactly the same. Even though it had taken months for him to face you again. It's like your eyes were waiting right where he saw them last, inviting you in.

Unknowingly, you take his one-sided reunion with you as innocent flirting.

"I get off at 5." You blurted out. Why were you so inherently flirty all of a sudden?

Peter straightens his posture as if that would help him hear you properly. He blankly stares at you as you do the same for a response.

“…Are you free..? Or interested?” You throw the towel over your shoulder.

“YE-yes. Yeah. I have no classes today I can come get you of course but I don’t have a car I just walked here but not from far.” He rambles.

You visibly relax your composure as that alone was enough evidence that Peter was just a nerd without the rich snob part. Though he kept the physique of someone who would visit his rich dad’s personal gym.

“Here's my number. I’ll get you an actual good meal.” You shyly look down at your feet, ignoring your ugly, work-approved kitchen shoes.

“Deal.” He pays for his burnt diner coffee, and leaves an appropriate tip this time.

You sneak in one last wave before he disappears around the street corner.

This shift couldn’t have gone any slower for you. The wait from 4:00 to 5:00 was the most excruciating pain of consecutive boringness.

When it was time to clock out, you rushed out the back, shoving your work shoes into your book bag and trying to fix your disheveled hair that had been put up by a pencil this entire time.

You rushed to the front of the diner while putting on your wrinkled sweater to mask the smell of butter off you at least a little.

You waited. And waited. And waited some more. 5:15. Why was he late? Did you scare him off? Is he never coming back to the diner? Was that big tip an accident? Maybe he took out the wrong bill and played along today just to avoid being awkward.

“Shiiit.” You groaned. You looked around the intersection. “Maybe he’s rushing towards me?” You thought. “He’s gonna come around any second and say sorry frantically like the nerd he is.”

He didn’t. He never showed. You waited for an hour more and just decided to walk home.

As you were walking along the dark and wet sidewalk, you were internally thanking yourself for bringing that sweater, but cursing because you wanted to take the scenic route and walk to work today.

“Hi miss.” A voice called from behind you.

You turned around to see Spider-man.

“Oh wow, hi?” You’ve never seen him this close before. The rainy afternoon gave his suit an exaggerated glimmer and despite his bug eyes, he didn't seem scary while approaching you.

“Why would a pretty lady like yourself be walking alone?” He starts walking beside you holding out an arm for you.

“Well, I was supposed to leave work an hour ago.. Something came up.” You take his arm cautiously. “I usually walk home anyway, nothing different today.”

Peter feels a lump growing in his throat. Even when he ditched you, you don’t insult him.

“Except… it’s an hour later. That means it’s an hour’s more worth of danger out here.” He jokes.

You nod, not really the response he was expecting. Spider-man was not getting the same treatment as Peter.

“Something wrong?” He felt wrong asking immediately. Yes something’s wrong. He was wrong.

“I just.. I’ve been feeling empty almost. Recently it’s like… It’s like I’m missing something. Not completely empty, but enough absence to feel hopeless. I had a date today and he didn’t show.” You almost continue until you looked up to realize you were talking to a bug man.

“Sorry. It’s dumb. I don’t expect you to understand or help.” You chuckled dryly.

Peter wanted to tell you everything so badly. He was already pushing it by seeing you again. Giving you a second taste of danger. But he burned for you. Maybe the first time was a sign. This was a new opportunity to keep you safe and he blew it. He crawled back to you desperately just for a glimpse of you. To see that you were okay. Now he’s knees deep in a new relationship with you and you didn’t even know.

“It’s not dumb.” He quietly answered. Peter on his way to get you, was leaving his apartment when he saw someone being robbed. “Maybe he ran late?”

You scoffed. “For an hour? More like he forgot.”

Peter knew convincing you to forgive him was bad. He knew doing the opposite was for the best. To tell you to forget Peter. But he couldn’t. He had you right here. Like he used to.

“Things happen.” He shrugged. “What if he got robbed?”

“Wouldn’t you have helped him?” You replied, unimpressed.

“Oh. Well I did help a really handsome dude and he got robbed. Was he like an attractive guy or..?”

“He’s cute." You admitted.

Peter blushes under his mask. Though you had said more affectionate things to him before, apparently he still gets giddy.

"Well, I'm sure he didn't forget someone as pretty as you."

You let out a scoff. "Did you drop down next to me to take me home safely or be stupid?"

Under the mask, Peter had a huge grin. He was proud of you. Still the same in how you always know how to avoid trouble. He rarely ever had to save you. You were too smart. No stranger was safe from you, not even Spider-man.

"Sorry." He says cheekily.

You both eventually reach your apartment though Peter had to act oblivious that this was your home.

"This is me. Thanks Spider-man." You tug on a zipper from your bag, reaching for something in the bottom. Gummy worms

"I don't know if you take payments but uh, I was going to share these with my date. It's my lunch I forgot about. Don't judge."

Peter feels a pang of guilt hit his chest. "Th-thanks... you really don't have to." He slowly takes the bag.

"It's okay really."

Peter sighed. "Look, if that guy is actually stupid enough to ghost you, just call me."

"How do I call you?"

"Like this; SPIDER-MAN SPIDER-MAN AGHHH THAT IDIOT NEVER CALLED ME BACK!" Peter ran around in a circle mocking a girl's voice.

"And you'd help me from wherever you are?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I have pretty good hearing." Peter comically dusts off his shoulder.

"Alright man, no excuses. Even if you're fighting off a giant monster or something you have to help me."

"Something tells me I won't need to. Y'know? One of my powers is basically a gut feeling that's always right." Peter puffs up his chest proudly.

You let out an amused exhale. "You're a nerd. See ya." You went inside, waving without looking behind you.

"See ya." Peter says quietly. As soon as he saw you disappear around the corner, he zipped to the top of a random building.

"hey y/n, so so so so so so sodsdo sorry for ditching you. PLS FORGIVW ME!!! had family emergency. wanna meet tmrw???" Peter mumbled along as he typed, two gummy worms stored in the side of his cheek.

"I sound so lameee haha." Peter thought. He goes to delete but presses send.

"Man."

[yuyusboyfriend]

⋆ Get On Mic ⋆

pairing: Mingi x gn reader ft. Yunho

word count: 2,3k

content: Mingi likes your, and his best friend's, voice a little... too much and isn't very good at hiding it

warnings/tags: mxm, sub!mingi, dom!reader, switch!yunho, phone sex, voyeurism, possessive mingi, I can't really think of any others, tell me if there's anything else

a/n: just incase, wyd= what you doing ,vc=voice chat, also this isn't proof read so!!! sorry

Mingi: you busy?

You: just finished some work, why wyd?

Mingi: jump on vc lets play, you promised. and the guys miss you

This was the 3rd time this week you had abandoned your 'finished' homework for Mingi. You would've said not tonight as said homework is due tomorrow, but for all the boys? You supposed you could play for a little while.

Mingi had been acting differently for a few weeks, nothing obvious, but you had noticed he had become much clingier with you. "Did one of your anime characters die or something?" you asked the giant that was wrapped around you as you made lunch for the boys.

"Hm? Oh, no, you're just so comfy. This hoodie new?" he grumbled into your shoulder, putting his hands in the front pockets as you tried to maneuver the both of you around the kitchen.

"No it's Jongho's, he said I could borrow it for the day-"

"Wear mine instead." Mingi unravelled himself from you and marched off to his bedroom with purpose, emerging with a hoodie of his own. It was your favourite of his, and he knew it—a tattered grey one that Mingi had owned for years, and he looked so pretty in it; you complimented him on it whenever he decided to wear it. You had actually been seeing it more often these days than you used to.

"Alright Mingi, whatever makes you happy princess" You didn't question his actions; Mingi's clingy days were quite endearing to you if you were honest. He clung to you like a koala to a tree, despite his stature and the fact you could hardly move when he did.

"I'm not a princess y/n,"

"You sure act like one? It's okay to be my princess Mingi, I'll look after you, hm?" Mingi huffed grumpily and slipped his hands under Jongho's jumper to pull it over your head, before realising you weren't wearing a shirt under it. Despite his beet-red face, he slipped his hoodie over your head, and took a step to admire his work; the way you looked in his clothes.

"See that's much better!" He yelled loud enough to smother the noise of his racing thoughts.

"I'm right here Mingi!" You rubbed your ringing ear as he apologised for nearly bursting your eardrum, "You are right though, this does look better. Could you give this back to Jongho when he gets home for me?"

He sighed sarcastically, "Anything for you my y/n." That left you with a weird flutter in your stomach, you weren't used to Mingi using endearing language like that. You wouldn't mind it again, though.

"Thank you, princess!" You laughed and ran away hearing Mingi's heavy footsteps not far behind.

You opened the voice chat to hear Woo and Joong fighting over who got who killed in their last match. "YOU LITERALLY-Y/n! You're here!" Wooyoung yelled down the mic and diverted his attention to you, with a slew of greetings coming through from the boys, Mingi's voice pitching in last.

"You made it," you could practically hear the grin on Mingi's face.

"Here he goes again" Yeosang's voice chimes into the conversation.

"Shut up Yeo."

You look at your screen, confused as to why Yeosang would say that and what it meant; why Mingi's tone had turned deep and icy at the statement, but before you even had a chance to question the situation, Seonghwa beat you to it. "Let's play! San I'm gonna beat your ass."

"We're on the same team??"

After playing a few rounds for a few…hours…the boys finally called a 20-minute break so they could go stretch and raid their kitchen for whatever they had bought on a late-night shopping trip. Well, you thought everybody had gone anyway.

"Y/n?" You almost missed Mingi's hushed voice down the mic, he sounded so soft. You hoped you could go and see the boys after all your assignments were handed in; you missed Mingi's hugs-turned-cuddle-sessions-turned-sleepovers.

"What's up princess, you okay?" your gentle tone sent shivers down the boy's spine. He felt hot when you called him sweet names through the phone, and while he wouldn't admit it to anyone, the way you called him princess got to him. Bad. Like bad in the way that was making him shift in his chair as the fabric on his plaid pyjama pants felt tighter by the second. Fuck, he felt so guilty, letting your sleepy voice get to him like this, but he just couldn't help it. He loved it, he loved the way you made noises when you stretched in your chair, groans slipping out of your mouth-

"Mingi? You there?"

He accidentally huffed a little down the mic, trying to conceal his whimpers as he pressed down into his growing hard-on, trying to gain some friction with the palm of his hand while he answered your worried tone. "yeah yeah,, I'm here. Can you just… talk? Tell me about your day,,, please?" Now that he had started, he just couldn't stop himself from reaching into his trousers now grinding up into his palm through just his boxers.

"Yeah, sure Mingi. So you know that assignment? I actually haven't…." The warmth of your voice spread like wildfires across his burning skin as you told him about… he totally wasn't sure what you were saying. His head was too fuzzy, too high off of your voice that he could barely register your words when he wasn't concentrating.

"Mingi are you okay? You sound out of breath, should I tell one of the guys to check on you-"

"No! No, I'm hh, fine y/n,, c-carry on please" Mingi knew he would get caught any second with the noises escaping his mouth, but he just couldn't help it, he wanted you so fucking bad, he was so desperate for you to just make a move on him after weeks, months of teasing and touching; hell, he had 3 wet dreams and infinite cold showers after he took Jongho's hoodie off your body, his eyes absorbing every detail, curve, scar, blemish, beauty mark—whatever his eyes had access to at that moment.

"Princess. You should've just told me you needed my voice." Busted. You could hear Mingi rhythmically shifting and huffing, his chair squeaking every once in a while. In all honesty, you had caught Mingi doing this a couple of times now, You could always hear the sound of Mingi's hand smacking the base of his cock as he stroked himself to your voice. It lit a heat in your stomach so strong that after the first few times, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from reaching into your underwear and playing with yourself; Slow enough as to not cum on the call but by the time it had ended you'd be writhing and squirming into your mattress. The thought of him taking in your body with greedy eyes any chance he could had your legs shaking as your orgasm hit you like a truck, crying out his name into your pillow.

"Wh- what? What do you mean?" Mingi's movements came to a halt on the other side of the call.

"Mingi, do you think I can't hear what you've been doing? How all of a sudden when it's just me and you, your breaths become heavy? Oh, princess, you're cute." you couldn't help teasing the poor man, you didn't think you had done too much till you heard the giant whimper into his mic, hands moving at a faster pace than before.

"Answer me, baby, tell me what you're doing, please?"

"Ah- I'm… fuck I'm sorry. Just—your voice is so hot, I couldn't help it—ngh" Before you could you heard a phone camera click, followed by a notification on your phone—Oh.

Mingi's veined hand was practically suffocating the base of his angry cock, precum leaking out of his tip. God, it was a beautiful sight that made your mouth water-

"Mingi. You didn't send that just to me…"

Yunho: did you mean to send that to the both of us or should I just pretend I didn't see anything?

Yunho: Either way, Impressive👍

Mingi squeaked at Yunho's messages out of embarrassment, and being kind of turned on at his friend's words.

Right? You like what you see, Yunho? Come join the call again…

You had a sneaking suspicion that they both had a little more interest in each other than just lifelong friends, and while you liked Mingi a whole lot, his best friend was just as pretty. The two of you had also shared some drunken kisses and touches one night after helping a blacked-out Mingi to bed. You wanted to dress them up in matching outfits and parade them around the house-

"Mingi? Y/n?" Yunho cautiously called out your names, his voice more gruff than usual.

"Yunho… help…" Mingi was barely able to get his words out, between the shame of getting caught out, and the way it was making him more needy by the second, his brain felt as though it was becoming mush.

"Mingi, are you really rubbing one out in the call again? You were bound to get caught, this is on you." Ah, so you weren't the only one who had caught onto his antics. To be fair, when it was just late-night calls between the 3 of you, he wasn't sly at all. All the shuffling and coughing to cover up his sounds, and the way he would mute himself for a suspiciously long amount of time with no warning, all to come back with a groggy voice and shallow breaths.

"Again?! Ah-What do you mean again-" Mingi gave up on trying to stop his whimpers and groans between speaking, letting them fall out of his bitten lips.

"Mingi, you could've just told us you needed our help, I'm literally in the room next to yours." Yunho can't help but let out a throaty laugh at the boy's predicament.

"Don't you dare Yunho, if you're gonna touch him then I better be there for it." Your body heat rises at the thought of the two of you teasing Mingi's aching body till he cums for you both. As if Mingi was thinking the same thing, his sweet noises increased with each stroke, one hand reaching up to play with his sensitive nipples. He was so desperate to cum after unintentionally edging himself two times, both of your words mixing with the fuzz in his brain making.

"Guys I don't mean—mean to stop the bickering but—please help,,," Mingi grabbed his phone and threw himself on his soft bed. Since his room was already darkened, the only sources of light emitting from his gaming setup and phone screen thanks to the blackout curtains, he turned the camera on for you and Yunho to see his tired and red face huffing into the darkness.

"Pretty," You heard Yunho whisper under his breath, so quiet you weren't sure if he had meant to say it out loud, but Mingi's little whimper as he rutted against his bed reassured Yunho either way.

"You think so Yunho? You think our princess is a pretty boy?"

"So pretty. Arent you Mingi?" He cried out so loud Yunho could hear him through the wall. He began to beat his cock harder with each stroke slapping his skin louder than the last.

"Oh Mingi, you're so worked up sweet boy, you gonna cum for us?" you whispered sweetly, bringing Mingi closer to his edge.

"Y-yes fuck please I'm so close please keep going" The boy moaned out into the bedsheets, craving his nearing release. He imagined two sets of hands on his aching body, Yunhos larger pair raking across his chest while one of yours grips the surface of his hip, the other dragging up and down his weeping cock.

"Im gonna- I- I need to cum-" You could hear Yunho's breaths becoming shaky and uneven too, the sounds coming from the two almost making you cum untouched at the thought of them getting off to this.

"Yunho, you ready to cum with Mingi? I wanna hear you both cry" You say with a smile, rolling your hips into your pillow.

"Y-yeah, Mingi fuck cum princess" Yunho tried to say in a stable voice, faltering as he and Mingi came into tightened fists, cum streaking against their surroundings. Mingi cried as he spurted white liquid from his tip, what felt like hours of edging coming to an end finally, his orgasm hitting him so roughly he had managed to get cum on his face and the walls from the buildup. Yunhos had been a little less explosive but he had still been desperate for release knowing what his roommate had been up to for so long. After a minute or two of no talking, you checked in,

"You boys okay now?" You approached the situation cautiously.

"Y/n, can you come over? We'll help you with your essay just- please come over?" Mingis's groggy voice pleaded, Yunho carrying on his thoughts.

"I'll pick you up and take you to college in the morning too, we miss you." Maybe it was how soft they sounded in their haze of post-nut clarity, but you really couldn't say no to them.

"I'll be ready in 5 but take your time getting here… Also, I didn't get to cum so are you guys gonna fix that orrrr?" You hear the call end as you finish your sentence and suddenly feel embarrassed.

Mingi: be there in 4.

I'm sorry this is so ass tbh😭😭😭😭 it's done now though thank GOD

[usafphantom2]

Legendary Pilot Bob Pardo, Who Pushed A Damaged F-4 With His F-4 Over Vietnam, Has Died

December 20, 2023 Military Aviation

Bob Pardo

Bob Pardo in a 2017 photo by Senior Airman Ridge Shan. In the background, Pardo's Push in an artwork by S.W. Ferguson.

Bob Pardo passed away earlier this month at the age of 89. With his Phantom, he pushed a crippled F-4 outside the enemy airspace in one of the most heroic missions in the history of military aviation, known as “Pardo’s Push”.

“Pardo’s Push” is the name of an incredible maneuver carried out during the Air War over North Vietnam that, over the years, has become the symbol of heroism and a demonstration of courage and contempt for danger.

March 10, 1967.

Captain Bob Pardo is flying in an F-4C with Weapon Systems Officer 1st Lt Steve Wayne. Their wingman is the F-4C flown by Captain Earl Aman with Weapon Systems Officer 1st Lt Robert Houghton. The two Phantoms of the 8th Tactical Fighter Wing, based at Ubon Royal Thai Air Force Base, Thailand, are assigned the task to attack a steel mill in North Vietnam north of the capital Hanoi.

During the approach to the target, both F-4 is hit multiple times by enemy’s anti-aircraft fire. The North Vietnamese flak causes significant damage to Capt. Aman’s aircraft whose fuel tank begins to leak fuel forcing the crew to abort the mission. While hit too, Pardo’s F-4 is able to continue its mission.

On their egress route, at 20,000 feet, Aman and Houghton determine that they do not have enough fuel to reach a tanker or Laos, where they could eject and avoid capture. Although his F-4 is still efficient and has enough fuel to reach a tanker, Pardo decides to remain with his wingman.

At a certain point, while still inside North Vietnamese airspace, Aman’s Phantom flames out. To save Aman and Houghton, Pardo decides to do something he believes no one has ever done before: he attempts to push the other F-4 to Laos.

Initially, Pardo tries to push the other F-4 by gently making contact with the drag chute compartment. However, turbulence interferes with the maneuver and after several failed attempts, Pardo opts for an extreme solution: he instructs Aman to lower his tailhook, then he positions his F-4 behind the other Phantom leaning his windscreen against the tailhook. The contact is made but the “solution” is quite unstable and, as a consequence of turbulence, Pardo needs to reposition his F-4 every 15 to 30 seconds. Nevertheless, the push works and rate of descent of Aman’s Phantom is considerably reduced.

As if the situation was not complicate enough, Pardo’s F-4 suffers an engine fire, forcing him to shut it down.

Try for a second to visualize the situation: a flame-out F-4 is somehow pushed by means of its tailhook by another F-4 powered by a single engine. In enemy airspace. Incredible.

Ezoic

Pardo pushes Aman’s F-4 for another 10 minutes until his Phantom runs out of fuel too. With both planes safely inside Laotian airspace, at an altitude of about 6,000 feet, the aircrews of both F-4s ejects (they will be rescued by SAR helicopters and evade capture).

Although he saved another aircrew, Pardo was initially reprimanded for not saving his own F-4. Until 1989, when the episode was re-examinated and both Pardo and Wayne were awarded the Silver Star.

Retired Air Force pilot Lt. Col. Bob Pardo poses in front of a static display model of an F-4 Phantom II, one of the many fighter aircraft he has flown, at Luke Air Force Base, Ariz., Dec. 12, 2017. (U.S. Air Force photo/Senior Airman Ridge Shan)

Pardo and Aman both continued serving and retired from the U.S. Air Force in the rank of lieutenant colonel. Years later, after learning that Aman had lost his voice and mobility because of Lou Gehrig’s disease, created the Earl Aman Foundation that raised enough money to buy Aman a voice synthesizer, a motorized wheelchair, and a computer. The foundation later contributed to raise funds to pay for a van, which Aman used for transportation until his death. In other words, Pardo never left his wingman behind, not even after retiring.

Ezoic

Noteworthy, as told by John L. Frisbee in his 1996 article for Air Force Magazine, Pardo’s push was not the first time a U.S. pilot pushed another jet out of enemy airspace: in 1952, during the Korean War, fighter ace Robbie Risner pushed his wingman out of North Korea in an F-86. However, pilots were ordered to refrain from attempting the hazardous maneuver again, and the episode had faded from memory and was almost completely unknown within the Air Force by the time Pardo and Wayne pushed Aman and Houghton outside of North Vietnam’s airspace.

Bob Pardo passed away aged 89, on Dec. 5, 2023. His courage and ingenuity, along with the legendary “Pardo’s Push“, will be remembered forever.

About David Cenciotti

David Cenciotti is a journalist based in Rome, Italy. He is the Founder and Editor of “The Aviationist”, one of the world’s most famous and read military aviation blogs. Since 1996, he has written for major worldwide magazines, including Air Forces Monthly, Combat Aircraft, and many others, covering aviation, defense, war, industry, intelligence, crime and cyberwar. He has reported from the U.S., Europe, Australia and Syria, and flown several combat planes with different air forces. He is a former 2nd Lt. of the Italian Air Force, a private pilot and a graduate in Computer Engineering. He has written five books and contributed to many more ones.

@Aviationist via X

[midnightjewel]

Omg can I request a bakugo or kirishima x reader where the reader had a career ending injury and can’t be a hero anymore and they’re like rly upset and agitated at everyone and their s/o is trying to help them and eventually like she just breaks down because all she wanted in life was to be a hero and now she can’t do that :(

Omg yes this is such an amazing idea/ask! Thank you so much for requesting I hope its okay that I only did Kirishima maybe I can do Bakugo at another time because I really enjoyed writing this for you! I hope you like it! <3

Characters Included: Kirishima

Warnings: Injuries, Mentions of Sex and Cheating, Panic Attack mentions

(18+ Only Please!!!)

You can’t remember what life felt like without the constant pain in your knees and back. You were miserable most of the time and although you tried not to show it, your husband knew you better than anyone else. You knew it had been almost two years since the accident but you still remember it to this day…

It was a dangerous rescue mission, of course you knew that. Any mission that you went on was risky. You were a rescue hero due to your quirk not doing much in combat you decided it was better for you to devote your pro hero career to rescue missions. You had extreme flexibility and could fit into small spaces while maneuvering your body in any way you want.

It has been a tiring day and you want nothing more than to go home to your husband and just sleep. You were sore from overusing your quirk, not to mention the mental stress you were under. A high end villain group had taken three hero’s in training as hostages and you were selected along with some of your colleagues to rescue them. As you crawled through the vents you could hear the voices of interrogation becoming louder. Your heart was racing as you realized that you were heading in the right direction in just a matter of minutes you’d be alerting hero’s to the location of the hostages. Despite you being completely terrified of anything going wrong you couldn’t imagine how those young adults must be feeling. They were only 20 years old and just getting into becoming hero’s out in the field. This was going to be completely traumatic for them so you knew that the difference between life and death had to do with you.

As you crawled down the vents you were eventually able to find an opening where you were lucky enough to peer into the exact room where they were keeping the three hero’s. Despite the small space you were able to grab your mission device and alert the other hero’s of the location you were at. You pinged the team which consisted of Dynamite, Shoto, and Deku. You sent the exact location and made sure that they saw it by responding with the thumbs up that the device featured. You made a point to send your location to Jirou. It wasn’t uncommon that the two of you would be paired up together as you two were some of the top rescue hero’s in the nation right now.

You heard some scramble got through the vents and held your breath in hopes that it was her. Once you had gotten the buzz for a message you checked your device and it was thankfully her alerting you that she was right behind you. You nodded for her to see that you understood and she gave you two taps on the calf to give reassurance. Your stomach turned as you heard explosions in the distance. They were nearby and you were getting more nervous with anticipation by the second. You wanted this to go smoothly, it was such a hassle to find this hideout you would hate to fail these three people because something as little as one mistake costs you the mission.

The rickety building shook with the explosions that were getting closer. As you felt the buzz of your device you looked to check. It was Jirou alerting you that she was going to alert the rest of the rescue team and the other pro hero’s of the status. You pressed your boot to her for contact in showing that you understood. With that you heard her quietly back out to go do her part of the mission.

After a few minutes of waiting you decided to climb down out of the vent as the villains were evidently being taken care of and they wouldn’t come into the room. You quietly opened the vent before maneuvering yourself down and landing in a position where you ere bound to make the least noise. You heard gasps from the three victims and you motioned for them to be quiet as you quickly untied them. “Out that door and down the stairs then take a left and the police and rescue team are waiting at the end” you quietly tell them as the waste no time running out the door. Just as you were about to search the room for crucial evidence like you heard a door open that you hadn’t noticed before as you stiffened you hoped it was one of the hero’s but with your luck it wasn’t a hero.

“You’re going to pay for that” a low voice spoke. You turned around ready to give your all in close combat if you had to but fear overtook you and just after deciding to turn around to look at the villain you decided that leading them in the direction of the police was a better option. As you went to run out of the door that you had recently sent the victim’s out of you were grabbed by the leg and tripped up as you fell forward onto the hardwood floor with an agonizing pain in your left knee. You had been injured before but it was never this severely painful. You couldn’t help but to scream out in pain as you knew something had torn. The three hero’s must have heard and been finished with the outside villains as they rushed into the room where they heard you scream. As they entered the room quickly you had been picked up by the furious villain and thrown against the brick wall of the room causing you to cry out again as it was evident that something in your back was now severely injured, maybe even broken.

“Katsuki you’re the fastest bet!” Deku yelled “Get her to an ambulance she’s bleeding from her head!” Was the last thing you heard before being picked up and blasted away from the scene by the blonde whom you’d been friends with since your days at UA. Next thing you knew you were on a stretcher with a red blob standing over you. As you blinked your eyes focused a bit more.

“Babe! You’re gonna be okay I’m right here!” He held your hand and you could recognize that voice from anywhere. It was your husband. “I’m scared” your eyes welled with tears as you became aware of the pain pulsating throughout your body. “You’re gonna be fine I wont leave you” he frantically speaks as he tried to shield your bloody body from the tabloids and press who were trying to get answers and pictures.

“Get the fuck away from her!” You heard Katsuki speak as the police and first responders tried to get the crowd under control. You were carefully loaded into an ambulance with your husband who kept his word of not leaving you as he followed you into their ambulance.

You remember it like it was yesterday. Constant rounds of physical therapy and all types of medical procedures put your hero career on hold for 11 months. When you did return it was short lived before you publicly had a ptsd panic attack during a villain attack that you were working, leaving Pinky and Dynamite all on their own. From there it was evident that there was no return to your line of work that you loved so very much. You had worked your life away to peruse this career all to have it thrown away in one mission.

The tabloids and media were brutal after your accident and panic attack sending you into a shameful hate spiral and you eventually went into hiding as you didn’t want to be seen in public anymore. They made up the worst rumors and stories that seemed believable causing people to side against you online. Of courses there were good people who undoubtedly defended your honor those being your fans, your former colleagues, and friends. You didn’t even want to be seen by them, too embarrassed of your physical state. You had a limp now, you were completely embarrassed of the way you were. You weren’t even sure why Kirishima was still with you, most days you wore the same clothes as the day before, you didn’t keep up with your beauty regimen that kept you looking your best when you were at your prime just two years ago. You and Kirishima were the it couple of the hero world but now you knew you were totally out of his league.

You two weren’t as intimate as before, going from doing the deed at least once a week to only having sex once every few weeks. It was because of your back and knee pains, you weren’t able to go for long without being in immense pain and you couldn’t help but miss those long intimate sessions where your husband would spend hours ravaging you. As much as you hated it you knew he probably hated it too and that made you extremely insecure to know that your husband was disappointed in your sex lives.

Through everything else you tried to remain strong, you always hated breaking down in front of people. It made you feel weak and as if you were a bother to them. As you sat up in bed, mindlessly scrolling though twitter while waiting for Eijiro to get home you came across a recent article about you, “(Hero Name), her career ending accident and why she disappeared”

You were curious about the elaborate story they made up thus time so you hummed in annoyance as you clicked on it preparing to read something that was completely false and was clearly only made for views. And it was fake, but there was something that caught your attention “She isn’t what she used to be I’m sure. All I know is that Red Riot seems to be running around with an alleged mistress probably to make up for his wife’s lack of sex life” one quote read and you felt the air get caught in your throat, you had some doubts about if he was happy before but pushed that away not wanting to question your husband and his loyalty. As you read on it was evident that this article was not truly about your husband and his alleged affair as there was absolutely no evidence provided but it was just to take jabs at you.

“Is there any proof of an affair?” “No, but I would cheat on her if she caused me this much misery” as you read that the tears started to pool in your eyes. They were probably right and it hurt that people who disliked you that much would take time out of their lives to make yours miserable.

You jumped as the bedroom door opened to reveal your husband who always smiled brightly at you when he got home from work. “How’s my love bug doing?” He kneeled bedside you and you tried to hide the tears that were still threatening to fall but after being married for 5 years he could always tell when things weren’t right. “Hey don’t cry” he immediately scooped you up in his arms while being careful not to hurt you. “I’m so sorry I make you miserable and I just can’t live like this anymore I miss being a hero” you sob and he holds you tighter knowing that this was bound to happen some day. After putting up a strong front for so long you had finally broken down. “Shhhh its okay angel just say what on your mind and i will comfort you for everything after” he reassured and you nodded “I worked so hard to get where I was and it was taken away so fast I can’t fathom that this will be my life forever” you cry “I’m sorry I don’t look beautiful anymore, I’m sorry you have to provide for both of us, I’m sorry I’m so depressed, I’m sorry we don’t have sex, and I’m sorry that I’m a pathetic excuse for a wife” you let it all out and he stiffens. Had you been feeling this way all this I time?! How could he be so stupid he thought to himself. “Baby you are everything and more! I want you and only you, I’m so sorry about your hero career I know how badly you want it back and I’m so sorry that I can’t give it back to you” he holds you tightly as you continue to sob in his arms

As your cries dies down you began to apologize “I’m sorry I broke down I just couldn’t take it anymore” you explained and he shook his head in disbelief, You were feeling so miserable and yet you were still apologizing to him. “You have nothing to apologize for my love” He kissed the top of your head “If anything, I’m sorry that I didn’t notice that you felt this way. I will do anything it takes to make you a hero again” he states and your heart skips a beat at his words “What?” You look up at him with wide eyes “That’s right, training, doctors visits, you name it. Whatever it takes to get you back doing what you love I will be there” he tells you and your heart sinks at the thought of making your injuries worse. “I can’t go back honey” you defeatedly state “Nobody wants a hero with a pathetic limp”

[snowblossomreads]

Day 4: Sharing

Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem!Reader

Summary: In where Severus is reminded that it's almost the first Christmas he and [Y/n] will be sharing and he goes to try and make it special

Tag(s)/Warning(s): fluff fluff and more fluff

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: And in something totally different once again! Here is a short little fluffy fluff about Snape and his almost first Christmas with his beloved [Y/n]. (See @deepperplexity i do know how to use the prompts in non unhinged ways are u proud of me 🤣🤣?)

The streets of Hogsmeade was filled with the bustling crowds of witches and wizards doing their holiday shopping as Christmas rapidly approached meaning that people were in a tizzy trying to purchase gifts for their loved ones.

And of course a treat for themselves.

Cheer and glee were on the faces of almost all of those who were bustling about spreading warmth in the cold air with just their attitude. All except one person named Severus Snape, who seemed to have had enough of people bumping into him as he tried to maneuver his way as swiftly as possible away from the crowd.

He should have known when he went out looking for a present for [Y/n] that he would face the tiring challenge of people. Yet he had been so caught up with preparing for the coming semester and his own experimentations that he had lost tracked of time.

And when she had brightly told him that she was excited that they would be sharing their first Christmas together in only a few days he realized he had proverbially dropped the ball.

On the outside he was his calm and collected self, agreeing with her as he was truly looking forward to sharing the holiday with someone other than himself. There was a small part of him that hated to admit that it in the past it was a bit lonely seeing all the people merrily celebrating.

Even when the Hogwarts staff tried to romp him in to their holiday shenanigans he was quick to get away not at all wanting to be invested in whatever they were up to. It was a way of punishing himself, as someone like him didn't deserve to have fun. Didn't deserve to have happy things because of what he had done and what he had caused.

[Y/n] though was having none of it when she came into his life. And he was grateful for it.

But he digressed.

That was on the outside, calm and collected as he usually seemed now and days. On the inside though he was quickly listing the things that he knew she adored and began to make a plan.

Oh yes, he would do his best to make sure the first Christmas they spent together was as lovely as his [Y/n].

First was to her favorite bakery where he was unsurprisingly met with a large line of people queuing up and waiting for their turn as it seemed that everyone had the idea to come at the same time.

An annoyance absolutely, but at least no one dared to talk to him while they were in line as he glared at anyone who seemed to want to make conversation. 20 minutes had passed and he had secured her favourite treats which included some pumpkin pasties that had extra holiday flavour in them as he had been told.

He had no idea what that meant.

A few cinnamon rolls that were topped with an abundance of sweet cream and a few more savory mini pastries that he knew she fancied.

Next was a trinket store, that she always gazed at when they walked passed though she never went in, only saying she didn't need more knick nacks laying around.

Well it was Christmas and what was wrong with a few more especially if the were useful and brought her joy.

So he went in expecting to find nothing yet he ended up coming out with a set of colour changing ink and quill, a trinket box for her little collection of rings and earrings in that played music while opened and also could sort the items for her. That aspect he found interesting thinking about what charm was placed on it to get it to do so.

And also he may have bought some dusty looking spellbook that he had never seen before which intrigued him along with self labeling potion bottle that showed what ingredients were in it.

Huh who knew that shop had so many things.

Pleased with his purchases he barreled his way through the crowd ready to finally be at home exhausted from all the pushy witches and wizard. Walking quickly to an alley way off the beaten streets of the village he took inventory of what he had making sure nothing was crushed or missing. Once he made sure everything was where he wanted, he apparated silently back home where [Y/n] was sitting in his wingback chair reading.

Well, that was until he suddenly apparated into the middle of the sitting room.

"Severus Snape! Merlin's beard!" she shrieked almost tumbling out of the chair being startled half to death by him. "I thought you told me no one can apparate in and out of the house? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

His lips turned upward in a smirk at her words as he watched her get up from her seat and stalk up to him with a small pout.

"Hm yes I do remember telling you that," he answered matter of factly, leaning down and brushing his lips against her forehead causing her to grumble, "though I may have left off that I'm the exception. I did live here for years after all."

Pressing his lips against her forehead in a chaste kiss, he moved down and kissed her nose, before hovering over her lips waiting for her to move.

"You're the worse you know that," she mumbled shaking her head before closing the distance and kissing him showing him that she wasn't angry just startled.

"Mhm."

He kissed her softly before moving to her cheek and kissing her there making her giggle as he pulled away.

"Your lips are so cold darling here go put all those bags away," she started pausing only when she saw the amount of bags and being yet again surprised. He said he was going out potion ingredient shopping and from the looks of it he had bought the whole stock of them. "And I'm sure it'll take you a while Severus did you go on a shopping spree without me?! Oh never mind I'll make us some tea it should be done by the time you've sorted it all out!"

Without another word she was off leaving Severus with a pile of bags not even suspecting that most of the things were for her.

When she had come back out of the kitchen tea floating behind her she was surprised once more when she found a plate full of her favorite snacks sitting on the little table in between her chair and Severus'.

He had paid her no mind when she had come back, acting as if he was reading the new book her had purchased yet he was keenly aware of her presences. It was only when she had sat the tea down did she take a look at all the snacks that were waiting for them.

"Severus?" His name came out shyly as she wandered to his side making him put his book down and turn to look at her.

"Did you buy all of those for me?"

Her eyes twinkled in the warmly lit room and he nodded.

"Mhm I passed by the bakery you always go to and decided to stop by," he answered coolly as if he hadn't been squished in the shop when he got in. "Hopefully this is a good festive start to our almost first Christmas together?"

Grinning at him, [Y/n] leaned over the arm of his chair to plant a kiss on his cheek overwhelmed with excitement as she skipped over to her own seat. Plopping down she poured them both some tea and happily partook in one of the pasties groaning happily at spiced pumpkin filling.

"It's an excellent start darling," she beamed. "Thank you!"

A rare smile, well not so rare for her, appeared on Severus' lips at how happy she looked as she bit into the treat and he felt as happy as she looked at the thought of the cheer to come. It was nice to share such a time with her thought before going back to his book and relaxing in the ambience of the warm room and his warm love.

A/N: see i am capable of using the prompts normally! see you guys on day 7 prompts! (she's taking a little break to avoid writing angst 😌)

[ghostedgrim]

The Avina Mission- 001

Prolouge

Warnings - stranded, stranded in space, death, fear, malnutrition, dehydration, starvation, muscle atrophy fear of asphyxiation, sickness, attempted murder, mentions of self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide

~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~

"The chances I'd get thrusted across space weren't high, but people were still convinced that this would happen to my crew and I. I mean, really, what are the chances I'd get thrusted into a galaxy far, far away? Absolutely 0%!"

~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~

CAUTION...CAUTION...CAUTION... Fuel is at, 29%...CAUTION...coming out of hyperspeed...pod 004 has shut down...pod 003 has shut down...pod 005 has shut down...

I feel like a puddle as I float out of my pod, my body just doesn't want to move. I look at pod 002, where Siobhan drifts out, and pod 006, where Francis floats out as well. We don't dare touch the other pods, the red line across the front is enough to tell us they're dead. Pod 010 is empty.

"Where's Aden?" My heart feels like it's in my throat. What the Hell happened. The last I remember was strapping into my seat in the cockpit, expecting to arrive at Jupiter in a matter of seconds. But when 20 minutes passed, we realized something was wrong and went into our pods to wait out the ride. "Someone go check the..." focus, focus focusfocus! You've trained for this, you've trained for every situation. It's just another drill, a very real drill, but a drill. "Siobhan, go check our supplies..." focus, "Francis I need an assessment on our engines, and our systems. I'll be in the cockpit."

My boot connects with my pod, and i kick myself forward. With practiced ease, I maneuver through the ship until I can pull myself up into the cockpit. A hand suddenly wraps itself around my ankle, and I'm pulled down to the cockpit floor. "SHIT fuck!!- Aden!? Holy shit I was wondering where you were at." Aden hovers above the floor. He's the same as the last time I saw him, curly brown hair, brown eyes, and freckled cheeks, but then my gaze reaches his jaw. "You grew a beard," it was hardly a beard, mostly a shadow of hair, but my brain is too frazzled to pick the right word.

"My pod was broken, I didn't want to risk death, so I stayed up here watching the systems," his voice is rougher than I remember.

"What happened," I ask. I pull myself into the pilot seat, looking out at the strange and unfamiliar constellations around us. It was utterly unsettling.

He sighs and takes a moment to collect himself. "Well, when the twenty-minute mark hit, I came up here to monitor what I could while everyone else settled into their pods. Only a handful of minutes later, we hit some extreme turbulence. When everything settled, I attempted to climb into my pod only to find its systems were broken. I'm sure you're already aware of the other broken pods, I honestly tried to fix them, but I'm not experienced with the field of work. For some, the pods pumped too much of the freezing fluid into their bodies, others, it sucked out the oxygen, and along with other pod related causes of death." Aden leans back, running his hand through his hair. The bags under his eyes are heavy and almost look painful. "I've been watching over the ship for the past three weeks... no four? Three?" he looks at some timer he set on the dashboard, "Five... five weeks. Waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for us to leave hyperspeed and another three days for you guys to wake up."

I rest my hand on his shoulder as I try to think of something to say. He watched 6 of our squad mates die and was forced into isolation for 5 weeks straight. I can't even wrap my head around the fact that we were in hyperspeed for 5 weeks, and have been drifting for 3 days in a galaxy so far away from home that I can't even begin to comprehend the distance. "Sweet fucking shit..." Tears threaten to form in my eyes. I keep my jaw tight and keep my gaze locked on the window. I can't cry, not now, not when I need to take care of everyone else and the ship first.

"Francis and Siobhan are awake as well. Siobhan is checking on our supplies, and Francis is looking over our systems. I'll tell them to meet us up here. Have you sent out a distress signal yet?" Aden shakes his head. We sit in silence as we wait for Siobhan and Francis.

~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~

Siobhan is hovering on the floor beside Aden, she is braiding her long ginger hair. Her green eyes are focused on her hands, trying to avoid looking at the haunting image beyond the window. Francis is in the chair beside me, working through our systems, determining what to turn off and what to keep on, he keeps adjusting his glasses and running a hand through his cropped brown hair, even his normal rich brown complexion has turned ashy. We're all scared, and looking out the window makes me want to vomit.

WARNING!...FUEL AT 20%...

"Shit!"

"Francis, turn off all lights. We have plenty of glowsticks and flashlights." Despite the order, I still flinch when we're plunged into total darkness. Eventually, my eyes adjust to the faint illumination of the buttons across the cockpit. I wish I could say the ability to see significantly more stars outside is comforting or fascinating, but really, it just scares me even more. We're in the middle of nowhere, presumably galaxies away from home, no planet in sight. "Siobhan, give me your ideas on how we'll ration food and water."

Siobhan lets go of her braid and faces me, "Fortunately the plants we brought with us to test if they could survive hyperspeed survived. As long as we can keep the plants alive, we might be able to have food in the long run. We-."

"That won't work," Aden interrupts, "The plants will require too much water, too much light, and will take far too long to grow."

"Fine..." Siobhan bites her lip, deep in thought. "We still have plenty of rations that we were supposed to deliver to the lab floating in orbit of Jupiter. Those will last us... maybe a four weeks, water will last us relatively two weeks. Francis, how are our oxygen levels?"

Francis looks through the small guages on the wall panel to his right. "Considering it's just the four of us I would say," he pulls out a white marker and calculates the math on the window, "three weeks."

"If we recycle waste, we can have more drinking water. Since the plants are useless along with a few other systems, I can fix the filtration system. I'll make it non-electrical, meaning we'll have to physically make the machine filter. It'll help slow our muscle atrophy and help keep our bones dense," Siobhan butts in. The idea is gross, but it's necessary.

"You two get everything settled. Aden, come with me, I need to check your physical health." We hold hands so we can't lose each other in the dark. Francis tosses me a lit glowstick, allowing me to carefully navigate the pool of never-ending darkness before us. Eventually, we stopped in a small private nook. "Please strip down to your underwear, Aden." I turn around so he can have some privacy. Once he gave me the all-clear, I turned on my flashlight and turned to face him.

I release the flashlight, letting it float aimlessly while I assess Aden. His muscle mass was still good, implying he's been working out 2 ½ hours each day. He shows signs of slight malnourishment. What scared me was how sickly he looked, somewhat sweaty, flushed skin, pasty complexion. After my assessment, I quickly helped him back into his suit before the freezing cold can bite his skin too harshly. "Stay here, I need to grab a thermometer."

With only the illumination of the glowstick Francis gave me earlier, I spend what feels like forever scouring through storage to find a thermometer. After finding one, I fly through the air to Aden and test his temperature.

This is bad. His fever is bad, and we don't have medicine to give him, and we don't have enough energy to turn the heaters on.

~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~

It's been three weeks... food is low, and water is limited to one cup a day. Aden's fever has gotten worse, and Siobhan is showing signs of a fever, too. The stress is slowly killing us. We ran out of fuel last week. All I can hope is that we're not alone in this galaxy, that maybe some alien finds us. I don't even care if the aliens harm us, I just want off this ship.

It's our fourth week, I try to update my captain diary at least once each day. We're out of food. I gave the last of our water to Siobhan and Aden. I haven't allowed Francis near them. He hates me for it, saying that Aden will die any moment, and I won't allow him to say goodbye or how i should let him put Siobhan and Aden out of their mysery. I'm confident my hair has turned grey. It feels like every hour, I'm stopping myself or others from harming ourselves. Just a few minutes ago I had to stop Francis from jabing a screwdriver through his neck. Only after our fight did I realize how bad my muscles have atrophied and that I haven't worked out since week one.

I don't know how long it's been, I don't know if Siobhan or Aden are alive, Francis isn't responding to me either. Fortunately I managed to bring everyone here into the cockpit. If these are our final moments, I don't want us to be alone. I can't help but to wonder, will my hunger kill me? Maybe dehydration? Or perhaps I'll run out of oxygen first? I'm so tired, why do I even fight to keep my eyes open, I'll suffocate anyway...

There's a bright flash outside, as my vision fades I think I saw a giant grey thing...

~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~

I don't understand the sounds around me, everything feels so heavy...

Somehow I opened my eyes, only long enough to see lights, something with glowing eyes. I feel like I'm crushed beneath a concrete slab. I fade out of consciousness again.

"Keep the suit on, we don't know what it is. It could be sick, or it may need it to survive."

"Put it in quarantine."

Suddenly everything is blinding bright. I demand my eyes to open, for my body to move, but nothing is responding. The weight is still there.

"It's... human?"

~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~☆☆☆~~

Thank you so much for reading. I gotta do some research on how gravity effects the average astronaut after long periods of 0 gravity. I don't wanna end up saying something that sounds stupid lol. I promise Clone Force 99 will arrive, it'll just be a few more chapters till them. 😘 bye bye

[sirfrogsworth]

I am having a bit of a day.

I couldn't stand being in the house anymore so I went to a matinee showing of Indiana Jones. Since it was no longer showing in the Dolby theater I decided to try the mom & pop, 3 auditorium theater just across the river in Illinois. It's a lovely place and very clean and the staff were friendly.

I entered the auditorium and it gave me flashbacks to the theaters I went to as a boy. No fancy recliners but the seats were comfy enough.

I was looking for the perfect seat and I always try to be where I am looking dead center at the screen and, if possible, I like to be in the sweet spot of the surround sound speakers. I found that seat and sat down and then some old fart behind me mumbled to his friend, "All of these seats and he sits right in front of me?" He clearly wanted me to hear him. I am still not used to being out into the world and interacting with strangers. I swallowed my anxiety and asked, "I'm sorry, am I blocking your view?" And he was like, "Well yeah, kinda." So I moved one row down and apologized.

Then I started looking around at the other people in their seats. There is no way to obstruct someone's view. You'd have to be like 9 feet tall. I even looked at the back of my seat and my head only stuck up 2 inches above it.

I then thought, maybe leaning back in my seat would reduce his legroom. So I pulled back on the seat in front of me to see if that was the issue. But leaning back does not change the amount of legroom.

This fucker made me move for nothing. I was so close to moving back to where I was but I couldn't muster the courage.

I was so mad.

I don't know why old guys keep being mean to me at the movies.

Then I got to the car and it had been baking in the sun for 2 hours. I gave it a while to let the A/C kick in, but the air wasn't cooling down. I drove it to Sam's to pick up sushi. Still warm. Drove it all the way home. Still warm. I was starting to get worried about my former triumph fixing the A/C.

I left the car running in the shade of the garage for another 20 minutes and it was still warm. So I popped the hood. When I lifted the hood up, the rod came out of the socket and the hood fell. I caught it and tried holding it up while maneuvering around to put the rod back in the socket. My hand slipped and the hood came crashing down on my right hand. It hurt, but I think it's only a bruise.

I finally got the hood fixed. I put the refrigerant gauge on the A/C port to see if maybe it was leaking. But the needle went straight into the red.

I must have overcharged the A/C.

When I was charging it, it never went past the green. I did it just like the video.

My heart sank.

Google says I need to go somewhere with a special vacuum pump. But I don't have any money for that. And I really don't want to tell my brother I fucked up trying to fix the car on my own.

I just want to cry.

[simmeons]

lil writing i did for @dilfoez that i challenged myself to write in around 20 minutes :)

it's essentially what happens after Scotty gets drunk in By Any Other Name tos episode :3

word count is like 600 or sm

“I found him passed out in his quarters.”

The chief medical officer grumbled a bit as his friend, Jim, explained where he had found Scotty after they all dealt with the Kelvans. It seems Scotty took to what he knew best- getting shit faced drunk.

“Alright,” McCoy huffed, knowing he'd have to help Scotty to bed now. “I'll go deal with him.”

“Good luck, Bones.” The captain replied with a pleasant tone before he was quickly busy talking with Mr Spock again.

The Southern man walked down the Enterprise hallways as he made his way to Scotty’s quarters, typing on the small pad next to the door to unlock it for himself. He immediately stopped when the doors opened, seeing his boyfriend slumped against the wall in front of the door, completely asleep.

“Damn it, Monty.”

McCoy cursed, bending down to grab a hold of his lover, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist. It was a little hard to lift up dead weight, but the doctor managed, hauling Scotty to bed.

Due to all the movement, the Scotsman started to wake up a bit. Scotty blinked groggily, squinting up at McCoy as he was maneuvered onto the bed. “Len... wha’s goin’ on?” He slurred, still more asleep than awake.

“You drank yourself into oblivion again, you stubborn fool,” McCoy muttered, not without a touch of affection in his voice. “Jim found you passed out and dumped you on me. Now you’re my problem.”

The doctor went to cover his engineer with a blanket, but Scotty immediately protested by kicking his feet out a bit, making sure McCoy didn't get far with that plan. “Nae- M’ still dressed.”

“You can sleep one night in your uniform, it won't kill you.” Scotty let out a pathetic whine, sounding like a child. McCoy frowned. “Oh, you- fine. Don't roll off the bed.”

He moved to Scotty’s dresser, digging into it as he grabbed some pajamas. He came back to see the engineer clumsily tugging his clothes off, getting stuck in his shirt with it over his head. McCoy couldn't help but snicker a little as he helped his poor drunk boyfriend undress completely before helping him into pajamas.

“There. Happy?” The doctor asked.

Scotty shook his head, eyes heavy with needed sleep. “Nuh uh, yer ass is gettin in wit’ me.”

“Darlin, I can't just miss the rest of my shi-”

McCoy was immediately cut off when the Scotsman wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling McCoy into the bed. Scotty was already strong, but now that he was drunk and wasn't thinking completely, he practically manhandled the surprised southern man into a drunk and cuddly embrace.

“You kilt wearing asshole-” McCoy complained, his face pressing into his lover’s plush chest. His swears were kissed away by the drunk man.

“Shh, shhh… Quiet laddie.” The engineer cooed, one of his hands starting to comb through the doctor’s short hair.

McCoy was already blushing, but it only got worse. He tried to wiggle out of the embrace, but he was stuck. Stupid drunk engineer.

“Damn you, Scotty.” He grumbled, but it died down when he was kissed on the forehead. He huffed as more kisses were left on his face, the accuracy growing more and more lackluster.

By the time McCoy actually relaxed into the cuddle, Scotty was mumbling to himself as his kisses started to grow more tired and lazy, his eyes fluttering shut before trying to open again.

“Tha gaol agam ort.” The drunk man whispered against McCoy’s neck, his voice muffled. The doctor just sighed with a smile, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.

“Love ya too, honey.”

[catnatch]

okay so with all this au talk, the DnD college au is actually occupying most of my brain space. here's how it starts (LOTS more info under the cut):

Yosuke is a college first year and has had terrible luck doing the whole fresh start, make lots of friends (and get tons of babes) so far.... so while he doesn't like his suitemate Kubo too much, when Kubo wheedles him to join him for some dorm board game thing (so he doesn't look like too much like a creep going alone; and "it's not like YOU've got any plans on a Friday night, Hanamura") to get close to Yuki-chan- "and there are other hotties there!!" Yosuke doesn't protest TOO much. plus there's free food!

board game thing was actually a DnD session a couple of other first years are trying to put together. also in attendance are: Souji (the dm), Yukiko and Chie (they're already friends but don't know the rest of the group), Kanji, Naoto (Rise is there briefly (she's Naoto's girlfriend); she won't be joining but she wanted to steal Souji's cooking and catch up a little as she, Naoto and Souji are already friends- Naoto is the one to help convince Souji to put together this DnD recruitment, actually. Rise's very busy but she'll appear on occasion throughout the campaign when Souji begs her to play a dramatic bit parts for NPCs) and Ai just cos I feel like other people than the IT should join for a lil bit (she will make an excuse 20 minutes in "ohhhh something came up I'll be right back." she doesn't.) Mitsuo will not be returning after the first session after Yukiko flatly turns him down. Teddie is back home with Yosuke's parents since he's not college age yet and won't be a part of this at all, probably

first session is a little messy (the enthusiasm levels vary wildly among the players) but what hooks Yosuke and gets him to come back again is one of his off the wall ideas in combat actually worked and won them the battle and the dopamine he got from that is unmatched

what's the campaign look like: UHHHHHH i don't know but I have the vague idea it would somewhat mirror the events of p4- so instead of some world ending adventuring maybe the gang uncovers a serial murder plot? but more fantasy. and maybe the murderer's story is somehow tied to the NPC that Yosuke eventually falls in love with idk

the gang's characters!

Naoto already had their character planned out beforehand: an elf ranger ♂ (Souji had to talk them down from going into some super specific off-book combo to not scare off the newbies that hopefully would join). Yukiko, Chie, and Kanji had all actually read the recruitment flyer for this event so had a vague idea of their characters but haven't played a ttrpg before so just went with what appealed to them rather then how they play. Yukiko: tiefling warlock (and after she learned Naoto is x-gender she thought that sounded fun and made her character x-gender as well; Naoto thinks maybe they're being mocked but it's genuine on Yukiko's part). Chie: human monk ♀. Kanji: halfling cleric ♀. Yosuke had no idea what he was getting into so he's just going for what's Coolest. he considered being a super yolked warrior but nah... not even in make believe. But he could be an awesome stealthy ninja!! So he chooses rogue. as for race, he's not going to be an elf that's basically like being a fairy, right, and he's not... but he thinks they get cool bonus powers or something so he'll go with half-elf.

(Ai tried to be an elf princess but Souji gently maneuvered her to elf druid. Kubo went with the first things that caught his eye: dragonborn barbarian)

as for names, only Naoto came up with one already (Erawin <deeply into western high fantasy>); the rest of the gang workshops names at the table:

Yosuke: Jira (i'm not creative what do u want from me .)

Chie<sweating, desperately trying not to say her literal first thought > : her name is……uhhh… <gives up> Lee…

Yukiko just tries vague grunts to turn into a name (“Grgk!” “no” “Aaaht!” “no” “ERP!” “sounds like a belch” <yukiko laugh > “is that a name?? er- no” “Hrk!” “OKAY YES HRK YOU CAN BE HRK”)

Kanji: Usagi (it is for the reason you're thinking)

anyway the main meat of the au is an NPC appearing and then reoccurring throughout the campaign that Yosuke's character forms a natural rapport with... Souji picks up on this and fleshes out the NPC beyond what was a throw away background character. the gang try to do their DnD sessions every week for at least a couple hours, but it still takes them weeks and weeks to get through what Souji planned. since it's so gradual, Yosuke doesn't notice when their characters' banter turned from playful to outright flirtatious...

and he swears he's not like THAT but he can't help getting so genuinely upset when he dies* in Jira's arms and Yosuke can't separate character from person when he hears Souji's voice tells him before he dies that he- he loves--

*temporarily; I'm not a monster

[belit0]

Killer

Pairing: Uchiha Izuna / Senju Tobirama

Cold metal against his temple is the only reminder of how terrifying this is. Sound of a trigger being pulled, no bullets ending his life.

Izuna lives for one more minute, at least.

He never thought about ending this way when all he was trying to do was capture one of the most wanted assassins in the whole fucking country.

Come to think of it, meeting the white demon himself so casually when investigating clues leading to him is not ordinary.

Tobirama is cautiously deadly, always clean of any scene he creates, leaving no marks that could lead the police to him. It is only because of his modus operandi the force can recognize his actions.

Three fresh cuts on the face of his victims by the time Izuna arrives on the scene.

His tongue works with arduous dedication as the man holds his hair tightly, pushing him against his pelvis and making the weapon feel on his head.

Izuna is too young to be experiencing something like this. 20 years does not prepare you to face a madman of this caliber. Taking this case, even though his brother thought he was prepared to face it, was a mistake.

Forcibly kneeling in front of the killer, panic unravels like a storm in his stomach. It is the first time he has seen Tobirama, a man without even a photo to identify him and no fingerprints in the system.

Still, he is admittedly hot, with cold eyes and a physique which should not be easy to maintain.

Those biceps he rebelled by removing his shirt hinted at a clear advantage to manhandle his small body however he pleases, and Izuna couldn’t fight back as he collapsed to the ground on his knees.

The gun to his temple, however, was a surprise.

Tobirama cruelly informs as he maneuvers his mouth over his cock.

“There is a single bullet inside this pistol. For every minute your fucking trap is not filled with my cum, I’m going to shoot. I hope you know what you're doing.”

There are tears streaming down his face as soon as the madman finishes speaking, and his head only moves because it’s the other man helping him.

To be honest, Izuna is unfairly good at any sexual activity. Countless amounts of his free hours spent satiating an uncontrollable appetite yielded him great skill. But to do it with this pressure, with the killer he’s been chasing for months, knowing there’s a man willing to kill him inside his mouth?

No matter how beautiful the bastard is, how good that overworked chest or his expression of pleasure looks.

There’s no way anyone could pull anything like that off.

When the trigger is pulled for the first time, he shudders, a humiliating sound escaping his clogged throat sounding more like a moan than a scream.

This further arouses Tobirama, who continues to move fluidly using the young man’s limp tongue.

“Come on, little detective. Are you looking to die? Show me what you’ve got.”

There is no way to fight the superior strength of who is inside him, and Izuna doesn’t understand how he was so careless to come to this. He should have identified the strangeness of those obvious clues leading him to this remote hotel. He ought to have stopped and analyzed those acts instead of rushing under the emotion of getting a breakthrough after so much frustration.

At some point it is he who moves his lips, for Tobirama stands still and squeezes his hair even harder. Obscene moans escape his chest with each swirl of his tongue, and he decides it’s best to end this as soon as possible.

The faster this bastard comes, the faster that weapon will disappear from his head.

Maybe he’ll even cut him down and call for reinforcements.

Putting into practice everything he has learned after hours of extensive juvenile cock sucking, the young man closes his eyes and tries to imagine a normal situation. His hands cease digging fingernails into the man’s thighs, and one caresses his sack while the other masturbates what doesn’t fit in his mouth.

“Won’t you look at this, our detective showing what a slut he is?”

Without going too deep, Izuna breathes through his nose while working profusely.

Third shot.

Even thicker tears fall down his cheeks, but this time he doesn’t cry out at the action. He chooses that precise moment to sink his face into the man’s pelvis, swallowing his length completely.

Killer’s grunts influence him, of which he is not proud, and in some perverse way, his own shaft is hard. That hand that was caressing those balls travels down to his own dick, touching himself despite the present threat.

“You like that, don’t you love? Maybe I should pull the trigger even faster to make you come too?”

That raspy voice sends electricity down his spine, and Izuna can’t help but moan.

Breathing is complicated when every time his lips are disconnected from his work, the criminal pushes him back with no mercy. Lack of oxygen makes everything more difficult to comprehend, but he clearly hears that horrible sound.

Fourth shot.

His luck will run out at any moment, and Russian roulette waits for no one.

“Come on baby, I’d hate having to get rid of such a pretty face.”

For the first time in the entire act, Izuna opens his eyes and connects with that devilish look. His tongue chooses just the right moment to travel along the expanse of his head, scratching his teeth against sensitive skin in what he knows is pleasure and not pain.

It seems to drive the man mad, who grunts gutturally and drops the gun. The weapon falls to the floor at the same time his two hands grasp the young man’s head, mercilessly fucking his mouth.

Izuna’s cheeks are completely red and stained with tears, his hand working more forcibly on himself. Saliva escaping from his lips stains the ground beneath his knees, and his eyes close again because of the force applied to his mouth.

Long white strands are suddenly released at the back of his throat, and even when his gag reflex is fully active, the man refuses to separate himself from the overwhelming heat of his cavity.

Izuna does not even have the chance to spit out what bursts inside him, liquid completely pushed to the bottom of his being.

When he is satisfied, Tobirama releases him with strange gentleness and supports him towards bed, settling him there and making him come with his own hands. With the deprivation of air and sudden pleasure, the young man doesn’t even have time to think about how to act against him, writhing under Tobirama’s enormous hands.

His body and mind are completely exhausted, seeking refuge in the hotel bed and hiding the terror in his eyes.

Tobirama seems to notice his reluctance to make eye contact and explains with a smirk

“It wasn’t even loaded, don’t worry.”

[killed-by-choice]

Donna Heim, 20 (USA 1986)

California resident Donna Heim was 20 years old. She was perfectly healthy other than a history of asthma. In 1986, she found out that she was pregnant and ended up going to Her Medical Clinic (which was actually an abortion facility) when she was in the second trimester.

On August 11, 1986, an unspecified HMC employee inserted laminaria dilators and told Donna to come back the next day. Donna was not warned about the risks of abortion and had no idea that she was going to die.

The next day, Donna underwent the abortion at the hands of abortionist Mahlon Douglas Cannon. HMC had not bothered to check Donna’s medical history other than a brief record of the past two weeks. It was already documented that Donna had asthma, but HMC didn’t bother to make sure that Donna was receiving any oxygen or that the drugs administered were safe for her. Donna was also not given a pre-op exam.

During the abortion, Donna suffered bronchospasms and/or laryngospasms. A nurse anesthetist started trying to get Donna to breathe normally, but did not check her medical records or administer any treatment that could have actually helped. Cannon was aware of the situation, but he didn’t help try to save Donna or call 911. Instead he just continued the abortion.

4 or 5 minutes later, Cannon actually tried to do something about his dying client— in a completely incompetent way. Instead of giving any medicine that might have had a chance at saving her, he attempted the Heimlich maneuver. It is unclear why he thought this would do anything. When Donna still couldn’t breathe, Cannon laid her down flat and put his fingers in her mouth. It didn’t help.

By the time someone finally called an ambulance, it was too late. Paramedics arrived to find Donna in full cardio-respiratory arrest. They desperately tried to save her, but she was declared dead shortly after.

The next month, another young client named Liliana Cortez who was perfectly healthy other than having asthma was killed by HMC in strikingly similar circumstances.

(Medical Board Documents)

[jeaninthephilippines]

Departure Day

I am finally going to have the courage to write this entry.

The morning I left the Philippines, my mom was still stressed out about the weight of my luggage. I maneuvered more things to fit (would later find out my carry on was actually 3lbs over, oops!...Attendant let me slidddeeee hahah). I had been so busy de-escalating my mom that when they loaded me into the car, I forgot to kiss my Lola goodbye. My mom had sent her upstairs to grab cash so I had tip money for all the airport helpers. I feel so sad that I let myself get lost in the stress and flurry.

Our driver takes one pic of us and my mom seems annoyed because she worries about me getting to the airport. On the drive to Manila, I write my Lola in Tagalog how I am sorry we didn't say goodbye properly.

I write my cousin and my aunt their farewells too. I look out into the lush green freeway and feel the weight of heaviness on my heart. I am a 100% Filipino and yet the Philippines is not completely my home. I badly want it to be and I think it starts with language (something I am hoping to improve on).

My mom is busy on her phone preparing a post about a goodbye to me. Right outside of the airport after passing so much gentrified land of high rise condos, is a barangay that isn't tampered with. The streets are narrow and the place is lively. We head into the departure zone which has many helpers in purple shirts bringing your carts and directing you to your airlines. My mom takes one full photo of me and I ask for a selfie together. I wish we had a longer moment, a moment I kept wishing on that day.

We head into the Korean airlines line at 9am and it winds line a snake with 20 folds as it continues to pile. It makes me realize just how intentionally designed the Vegas airport is with mitigating every discomfort for a visitor with its efficiency. We're there for 2 hours in line (the longest I've ever been). My flight is at 12:50pm and I spend about 40 minutes waiting in immigration. I head to my gate with enough time to eat tocino and rice (my favorite breakfast meal). There are so many people on this flight and I recognize the woman who was standing in front of me earlier. I remember how pissed she was that someone paid to cut the line. Anything for a good tip with get you far in the Philippines.

I hear a few Americans talk about how they spent 1-2 weeks here and it was the time of their lives. Spending time in the province was a the time of my life, I never knew I could deserve to have: peace, quiet, and being unknown.

I look like every other Filipino here that no American attempts to talk to me. While waiting I find out my one airpod is left at my mom's. My technology mishaps feel like the ghosts were playing games with the girl they would miss.

We board the plane and I help the people around me load their luggage into the overhead bin. The woman who sits next to me had no upper body strength when she tried to put it up that I stood behind her and aided her arms.

We had yet again very yummy and portioned Korean food. I will miss this about the airline. When I get to Korea, I desperately look for a nail clipper since my nail broke. I had to roughly cut the manicured nails my mom paid for when I visited. Another sign that reality was consuming me. I wandered up and down the airport for the bathroom where Koreans were lathering up their beautiful skin care routine between flights.

I then head up to a food court to order some authentic Bimibap that my professor recommended. It was beyond delicious and I treasure those flavors forever.

While waiting for my flight, I stayed and journaled. A Korean American woman my age asked to sit with me because she was waiting for her food and there were no more chairs. I said sure. I trusted her enough to watch my things when I threw my tray. She guarded her bag from when she picked up her food to when she ate. I get it. I can be foolish about how I see my fellow humans (something I continue to shave off in my return to America).

I find my gate which moved from its original spot to a smaller gate packed with children. Korean summer started and all these families were taking their kids to Vegas. I sat on the floor away by the stores with enough sight to see when I could board. I sat again with a mother and daughter who could not articulate what they wanted to eat to the stewardess. The mother was getting sicker on the flight and I shared some of my pocket tissue with her. She asked me how could I be so kind? I shrug and laugh. I knew that I am built this way from the way I was raised between parents and teachers.

I helped the mother and daughter head out first by also pulling their luggage. The escalators were broken in Vegas and the lines were long again for immigration. I felt like the airport was trying to make Vegas appear unlivable to potential immigrants. That's my theory. We stood in line for another hour and a half after arriving for immigration clearance. I had my whole trip story ready for when I would be asked since so many passengers had to explain. But they let me pass easily and I wondered if the way I appeared was more American.

We were in a secluded baggage area with free carts. I quickly saw both my big bags and maneuvered like the strong lady I am seamlessly. Coy wasn't able to help me because there was another security gate before we could reach our families. I walked out and Coy greeted me with roses. We kissed and I was relieved to live through the turbulation I prayed through in the 10 hours to get from Korea to Vegas.

The mother and daughter passed me and Coy's reunion and the daughter looked surprised that I was married. Maybe she thought, how could a large Asian woman be married? hahaha, to be in America where ideas are bent and identities are explored.

This was so hard to write because someone could look at this day from travel as dull. But I don't live this life sleeping. I live it alive and see all the teachable moments and breath in all the blessings.

I aim to see my family again. I hope I do.