#wow how i missed writing this kind of thing

[misctf]

Hey! I just bought this new VR game system and it says not to try it on alone. What the fuck are they talking about? And why are all the games on the online store so adult centered? Whatever, let's try it, wait what is happening ...

“Dude, you’re not supposed to use Hive X alone.” Some guy messages you in the chatroom, “Did you not see the warnings?”

“Or the reviews?” Another user asks, “It’s best for couples to use it. Together.”  

Your eyes narrow, “I didn’t pay all this money not to use it.” You reply, “I’ll let you know how it is.” You look down at the black box.

You always appreciated your friends in the gaming community. But the gaming community was quite divided when Hive X hit the stores. A new VR gaming system that seemed to offer a futuristic level of immersion. You didn’t really have time to read reviews, but you weren’t going to miss out on this opportunity.

“Well, here it goes.” You mumble.

You slowly remove the VR headset from the box, followed by two wrist and ankle cuffs. You can’t help but chuckle when you remove what looks like a waist trainer.

“What the fuck?” You whisper as you read the instructions.

Slowly, you remove your clothes until you’re completely naked. Apparently, this would help facilitate the full immersive experience. And as you stand in the center of your room, you slowly slip on the ankle cuffs, then the wrist cuffs, and finally the waist trainer. You pick up the headset, which looks like that of a motorcycle helmet, and with a deep breath, place it over your head. Initially, all you see is inky blackness. But as it turns on, the world around you comes alive. You wince as the ankle, waist, and wrist pads dig into your skin and warm up. And suddenly, you’re standing in what can only be described as a hotel.

“Oh wow.” You whisper as you look around, seeing others walking around the hotel. Heading to different rooms. You take a deep breath and smell a muskiness mixed with oak wood. The warmth of a glowing fire dancing in the hotel lobby. It’s warm, and a sense of peace fills you, “Oh shit!” You realize that you’re naked and quickly go to cover yourself.

Apparently, others heard you and look over. Some chuckle, some give you concerned looks. And you realize that many of them are naked too. Blushing, you quickly walk down a hallway, awkwardly bumping into and maneuvering around other couples.

“Why the fuck is everyone naked?” You mumble, “And why...” Your eyes widen and you gasp when you turn a corner and enter a large room.

There had to be hundreds of men and women in the midst of a giant orgy. All moaning and engaging in lewd acts. You avert your eyes and back away, heading back the way you came. Your face beet red and dick twitching uncomfortably.

“I should’ve read the reviews.” You mumble, realizing this is some kind of virtual sex toy, “Okay, I’m done. The guys will get a kick out of this.”

“What’s wrong?” You jump at the monotone voice behind you, “So sorry. I’m NPC 436.” A fully clothed, relatively plain individual says, “I am designed to tailor your experience and enhance customer satisfaction.”

“Yeah, I...” You cover your junk, “This isn’t my thing... I...”

“We have many experiences designed for our users.” It continues, “Usually, partners enter the Hive due to enhanced physical sensations. It appears...”

“Yeah, I’m alone.” The NPC nods.

“Based on your preferences and attitudes, we have determined an ideal experience.”

“Wha... how?”

“The VR headset you utilize is a two-way interface with your mind.” It says simply, “Please follow me.”

Part of you wants to say no and write this off as one of your biggest failed gaming experiences. But another part of you is curious. You nod and follow NPC 436 as it leads you to one of the hotel rooms. You stop outside Room 194 and NPC 436 opens the door, beckoning inside.

“Please enjoy.” It says, “Customer satisfaction is a primary objective.” It continues.

You nod as the door closes behind you and you enter a standard hotel suite. A warm fire place cackling and the smell of oak filling your nostrils. You feel your body start to relax and your thoughts slow. Absentmindedly, you stroke your hardening cock. The sound of the shower in the other room brings you back to reality and you slowly walk over. When you enter, your eyes widen.

“Hey there.” The man says, as he turns and smirks at you, “Fuck you’re cute.”

You feel your heart beating, your cock aching with need. And as he approaches you, you step forward. Your hands moving to feel his massive pecs. He grins as he guides your hand to his dick and you shudder at the feeling of his thick manhood in your hand.

“Good boy.” He moans, “I’m NPC 251.” He continues as you continue to feel his body, “Fuck... you’re needy.”

Things seem to move quickly. He’s pressed you up against the wall of the shower, your lips locked, your tongues doing battle. You can feel his rough hands roam your body, as yours continue to stroke his dick. And suddenly you’re on your knees as he fucks your face- you deepthroating him like a pro. He lets out a moan as he finishes and you shudder as you’re filled with his seed.

“Fuck.” He whispers.

You stumble to your feet, quivering from the pleasure. And before you can say another word, you moan as your cock hardens against. A wave of horniness filling your mind. A desire for more filling your every thought.

“Th-this isn’t...” You whisper. How was your body already craving another round? What was this VR device doing to you? “I... I...” NPC 251 is stroking his dick, grinning down at you.

“Additional interaction requires in game purchase.” Your heart sinks, “Would you like to initiate NPC trial period?” NPC 251 asks, “This will unlock additional sessions with any other NPC.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to comprehend what NPC 251 means. But your aching cock is too distracting. You bite your lip. NPC trial period? What did that even mean? What would it...? But NPC 251... god you wanted to do that again. You wanted...

“Trial period. Please.” You moan.

A searing pain knocks you off your feet. You can feel it in your ankles, hands, and waist. And the feeling seems to be moving along your arms, legs, and torso. You cry out and look up at NPC 251 in terror, gripping your head as you develop a significant headache.  

“Digitalization process is taking place.” It says, “Your physical body is being fully converted into the Hive.”

Before you can say another word, a different feeling fills you. You feel like you’re being inflated. Each muscle contracting and bloating. Expanding and growing at a terrifying rate. You try to push yourself up and immediately fall over. Unfamiliar with your new size and bulk as your musculature takes on that of an athlete. You wince as your body hairs burns away and leaves you smooth and hairless. Your muscles toned and bulky. The body of a porn star.

“Optimization of user traits allows for seamless integration for company standards.” It continues, “Your prior traits will be saved in the mainframe.”

You gasp as you look at yourself, hands roaming over your impressive musculature. You moan in a far deeper voice as your ass pulses with need. And you look up desperately at NPC 251, knowing it could give you what your new body craved.

“Initiating directives.”

Your jaw goes slack and your eyes dim as words and numbers flash in front of your eyes. You can barely keep up with the various components as you’re given directions and commands. Your numb mind filling with them- a sense of devout obedience driving you.

“I will serve. I will ensure customer satisfaction.” You drone on, “Serving is my pleasure. Being used is my pleasure.” For a brief moment, you feel fear. Part of you coming to realize what your life is about to become. But fear is not part of your programing, “I am NPC 803.” You say.

NPC 803 was quickly led away to a new room. An empty room. One for NPC 803 and the services it would provide. Time wasn’t a concern for NPC 803, nor were any thoughts about when it would get to return to its old life. And as NPC 803 waiting for someone, it laid in bed. Dildo in its ass. Moaning from wave after wave of pleasure. But it wasn’t enough. All it wanted was to provide customers with the best experience possible. And as another man was led to your room, also without a partner, you couldn’t help but smile. After the time you were gonna give him, you just knew you’d have another NPC joining your team.

[sangijazz]

Experiment: 0022

Start of Experiment: 28/11/2009

Head Scientist of the Experiment: Doctor [REDACTED] from HR department (also known as Dr S

Genetic Making: 23% White Tree Frog (Litoria caerulea), 18% Firefly Squid (Watasenia scintillans), 31% [REDACTED], 16% Experiment 0001's DNA, 10% Venus flytrap (Dionaea muscipula), 2% Unknown

Biologic Characteristics:

Teeth are deep rooted similar to those found in Mammals and Crocodiles, the teeth are sharp in nature which in theory makes the experiment a carnivore (further test are to be conducted).

The subject have amphibian qualities, like frog-like skin that absorbs oxygen in water (also secrete mucous) and also a set of lungs with hidden nostrils on its face. Due to its amphibian nature, it's cold blooded, though tests and observations concluded that the subject body requires warm blood to function on its maximum capacity.

Six limbs with a similar muscle structure as a seen on a Squid adorned with sharp teeth-like bone on their ends, their function are to control the opening-and-closing of the mouth, and similar of the Venus Flytrap, most the mouth can open to 90⁰, its width reaching 0.6 m.

The blood flowing through its veins, apart from being copper-based, is biluminescent (only producing green like unlike its Squid counterpart), the biluminescence doesn't appear to be controlled by subject and the light is always present, the evolutionary purpose of it can not be concluded at the present.

Experiment has humanoid limbs with five toed feet, five fingered hands with opposable thumbs. Although, 0.8% longer than an average human, with height of 2,56 m. Theoretically bipedal, observed behavior on dry environments leads to believe the subject prefers crawling in all fours.

The experiment's brain looks human, though it is 0.5% larger than a human average. Further tests are to be conducted to test the subject intelligence and cognitive process, though from simple observations, the subject when younger (on its first five months) seemed to have the cognitive level of a human child.

Notes:

[NOTES REDACTED]

¡Upper level of access required!

Audio Transcript /05/2010 by Dr S (level 1 access)

Two-two's surgery was a success! It is still unconscious as I write this, but from the CCTV, we observed it is not shivering anymore! The tubes and hot pump need to be changed every few months but we all hope Two-Two'll be less aggressive towards the staff next time, so we won't need to restrain it during the changing process (it is not strong enough to break the restrains but it will persist until it break its bones)... I just hope it won't reject the "foreign object"( you can't see but I'm doing quotes with my hand heh) that is the pump and try to claw it out like Experiment 0031... The mess... [End of Audio]

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Max "If It Weren't For The Baby" Verstappen | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Max and George show no signs of stopping anytime soon and poor y/n is stuck between a rock and a hard place. but soon things escalate when Max accidentally opens his big mouth.

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

y/n_russell posted:

y/n_russell: Habibi come to Abu Dhabi✨

Comments:

user: SHE’S BACK, EVERYBODY STAY CALM!!! 🔥🔥🔥 user: MOTHER RETURNED TO THE GRID AND IT SHOWS. user: Abu Dhabi isn’t ready for her!! 😍 user: Not to be messy, but is that a bump or just the angle? 👀

user: Delete this before you embarrass yourself further. 🙄 user: You do realize that’s body-shaming, right? Yikes. user: Maybe it’s just the dress, maybe it’s none of our business. Either way—don’t. user: Imagine logging onto the internet just to get ratio’d in the comments. Couldn’t be me.

georgerussell63: Wow. 2 whole photo in front of Lewis’s garage? Feeling betrayed right now.

y/n_russell: omg george, do you want me to write "george is my favorite" on my forehead or something? relax. georgerussell63: I’m just saying, where’s the support? y/n_russell: maybe if your garage didn’t feel like the waiting room at a dentist’s office, I’d consider it. georgerussell63: That’s because we’re professional. y/n_russell: nah, it’s because you have the personality of unseasoned chicken. user: 💀💀💀 SHE CAME FOR HIS LIFE.

user: MAX. LIKED. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN.

user: Not Max creeping in the shadows like that. George, sweetie, you seeing this? user: Netflix doesn’t even need to make a script this season. The show’s writing itself.

landonorris: MOTHER.

y/n_russell: 🔪🔪🔪 user: The knives are out. Lando, RUN.

lewishamilton: Always great to have you around. Thanks for showing up and supporting me this weekend. Much love ❤️

y/n_russell: Wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know I’m rooting for you Lew! Big things ahead 💪🏽

f1teaspill posted:

f1teaspill: Okay, F1 fans, we’ve got a hot one for you! Max Verstappen and George Russell’s sister, Y/n, were spotted on a hotel balcony together, and it’s seriously got people talking. 👀 Y/n was supposed to be at a totally different hotel with George, so why is she with Max—especially with all the drama going down between them? 🤔

Is there something going on between these two? Or is Y/n just making it clear that she’s Team Max in this ongoing feud? You know we’ll be watching this one unfold closely... 🔥

Comments:

user: Yooo, what’s going on here?! Y/n is in Max’s hotel?? 😳

user: Is this a secret relationship or is Y/n just picking sides? I need answers!! 😬

user: So Y/n's team Max now? This is messy. 👀

user: Max and Y/n are lowkey dating and no one’s telling us?! I need the receipts ASAP. 😩🔥

user: Sis really out here with Max?? I can’t believe this. George is gonna flip. 😬

user: Okay, but like... is she betraying George by cozying up with Max right now? Or is she just done with the drama? 👀

user: Nah, this can’t be real. She’s out here looking all comfy with Max while George is literally her brother?? What kind of betrayal is this? 😱

user: Is this the kind of power move we’re witnessing?? Y/n dropping George for Max?? 🤯💥

user: Ok, but lowkey, I ship them so hard. Max and Y/n would make the hottest couple. 🔥🔥

user: No, fr. Max and Y/n are EVERYTHING. They look so good together, I’m lowkey obsessed. 😍👀 user: Can we just take a minute to appreciate how they’re literally radiating chemistry? I don’t care if they’re not dating—they should be. 😩💅

user: The way she’s just chilling with Max tho... George must be somewhere crying right now. 🤣💀

f1teaspill posted:

f1teaspill: “If it weren’t for the baby.” Three words that sent the paddock and the internet into absolute mayham today after Max Verstappen dropped the bomb during an interview. 👶💣

Fans are already in detective mode, dissecting every second of this wild moment. Whose baby? Is Max a secret dad? And what does George Russell have anything to do with it?

Interview Transcript:

Journalist: Max, earlier this week George Russell referred to you as a ��bully” in his recent comments. Do you have any thoughts on that?

Max: (chuckles awkwardly) Well, you know, George always has something to say. I’m not going to get into it.

Journalist: But do you think his characterization of you is fair?

Max: (sighs) Look, I’m just here to race. I’m not interested in petty drama.

Journalist: It doesn’t seem like George is letting it go anytime soon. Are you planning to address it with him directly?

Max: (visibly annoyed) I really don’t see the point in—

Journalist: But isn’t it important to clear the air, especially since the tension is so public now?

Max: (snapping) If it weren’t for the baby, I wouldn’t even bother trying to make peace with him!

(A beat of stunned silence. Max’s eyes widen in realization.)

Journalist: The… baby? What baby? Max, can you clarify—

(Max mutters something under his breath and walks off, leaving the journalist baffled.)

Comments:

user: BABY???? HELLO? MAX, EXPLAIN YOURSELF.

user: What baby, Max?! WHOSE BABY?! I haven’t been this confused since Abu Dhabi 2021.

user: Can someone please check if Max even knows what he said? He looked so panicked when he walked off.

user: “If it weren’t for the baby”??? Sir, we’re not in Panem; calm down.

user: Peeta Verstappen has entered the chat. Someone hand him a loaf of bread. user: Peeta Mellark walked so Max Verstappen could run user: I just KNOW someone’s editing Max into a Peeta scene as we speak. Can’t wait.

user: Okay but what baby would involve George? George is childless?

user: Guys, hear me out: What if Max is secretly dating George’s sister? That’s the ONLY way a baby ties them together. user: Nah, there’s no way. George would’ve punched Max into next week already. user: Okay but think about it. Max. George’s sister. A baby. Uncle George. THIS IS LORE. user: I’m just saying, George’s sister has been looking very glow-y lately… 👀 user: Not a theory, just facts: Max is babytrapping George into a truce. 💀 user: Wait... isn’t George’s sister in Abu Dhabi right now?? 👀 user: omg and they were seen together on his hotel balcony jskjsk user: I’M SCREAMING. THIS THEORY IS TOO GOOD. user: Max... the man, the myth, the secret brother-in-law.

user: F1 fandom today: trying to figure out if Max has a secret family or if we’re all just collectively hallucinating.

user: Bro, if this is true, Netflix better dedicate a whole episode to Uncle George. user: “If it weren’t for the baby” is my villain origin story now.

user: GUYS. What if Max meant baby as in, like, his cat or something? We’re spiraling.

user: Okay but why would George care about Max’s cat?! Use your brain. user: Honestly, the only thing that makes sense is Max dating George’s sister. Uncle George confirmed. Case closed.

user: Y’all, the way I will actually SCREAM if Max and George’s sister are together. This is better than any race drama.

user: Max Verstappen?? A baby daddy?? In THIS economy??

user: Everyone’s fighting over the baby, but I’m just here wondering how Christian Horner is gonna spin this in interviews.

user: Plot twist: The baby is Christian Horner’s with Toto 😭

user: STOP. This is the most chaotic F1 season ever, and I love it.

Taglist: @ilovechickenwings @spooky-librarian-ghost @diaryofarandomkid @rd14 @hc-dutch @tremendousstarlighttragedy @grussellsprout @dannyespinosa06 @awritingtree @shelbyteller @diorbrxtz @96mcobo

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, manipulation wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. series masterlist < next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is coming up soon. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his father, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in five years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of nineteen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father. 

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?” 

“Very good.” 

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever. 

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been five years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit. 

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?”

The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence. 

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!” 

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.” 

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.” 

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out.

“Who?” Satoru ends up asks.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

[nuemanfilms]

#ILUVIT

summary once you manage to get infected by some sort of pollen, sam offers to help once he realizes you both can’t take it anymore. He always was so soft on you.

content warnings virgin!innocent!reader, fem!reader, softdom!sam, piv, fingering, praise, sweet talk, cooing/reassurance, lack of shame, creampie, breeding kink, mention of fem!reader’s crush on sam and him being oblivious, sam does return feelings, he’s just stupid about it, inexperience, sam’s brief guilt about taking advantage, selfishness, crying, scratching, slight mention of sam marking reader (a hickey), 2.4k+

notes this was based on pollen req but for the love of god I could not find in my inbox. wow, i wrote a lot for an hour and 30 minutes?!!

motivation to write was from reading @immodestly-marina ‘s soulless!sam fic. for the love of god go read. it’s perfect.

—

It wasn’t unusual for a case not to go wrong, it was common for the creature to outsmart you and the brothers — but not like this.

Dean killed the witch, moments after she hit you with some kind of pollen. The effects didn’t kick in until Dean left in the impala to the bar down the road — Obviously pissed at how the hunt turned out (and how he had to buy a new knife.) Sam stayed with you back at the motel, the concern etched on his features every time you looked over at him on the other side of the bed.

You were hot. Not in the attractive way, well that too, but you were burning up. Sam could practically feel your body heat torching his skin. Your cheeks were flushed an embarrassing tint of pink that you knew if the Elder was here, you’d get teased for it.

It was no secret you had a crush on Sam. Who wouldn’t? Everyone you’ve ever met could see it but the man himself.

Who could blame you, though. Really? Everytime he trained his gaze on someone whether he was sitting up or down - they were met with his puppy-dog eyes. Emerald irises gazing on whoever he was focused on or paid attention towards. It was one of the most noticeable things that the younger possessed, you simply couldn’t miss them.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out your behavior change(s) and put the puzzle pieces together. Your thighs were pressed together tightly, almost clenched. Your hands were pressed together in a fist in your lap while you avoided Sam’s eye contact at all times. You reeked of arousal, of sex.

It was making the front of Sam’s pants tighter than he thought possible.

He didn’t want to take advantage of you in this state, well, he believed he was. You were under the influence of a witch. It was still you, the problem was it just made every desire you’d even thought resurface. It made the shame that would normally guilt disappear.

Dean was still away of course, he probably wouldn’t be back until morning due to his little rage about his weapon. He was nervous to even ask the question despite his inner monologue telling him to do it before it was too late.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, “Do you, um, Do you want me to help… you?” His voice made your head perk up. You knew how you were feeling, you were trying your best to not pounce on the man right now. Despite knowing that you were inexperienced.

You wanted to say a verbal answer, but the only thing you could get out was a small ‘Uh-huh’. It’s not that you’d never kissed before, you’ve just never done it before. You’d normally be embarrassed by it but right now you couldn’t find the shame to care.

“I’ve never- never done it before…” You confessed shakily under your breath, it was loud enough for the taller man to hear though. His eyes darted down to you, his hands lifted hesitantly.

“I don’t mind, I just, Are you sure?” You weren’t that out of it to not answer with a verbal confirmation.

“Yeah.”

The firm grip he had on your hips was gentle, like he was treating you as if you would break with the wrong move. You laid beneath him, looking up at him with doll-like eyes that could make any man melt to their knees. If this was a sin, Sam would gladly burn in hell for it.

You freed yourself from the jeans you wore, leaving you in cotton panties. You were obviously unprepared, and that somehow made it even more attractive. They were white. His favorite color on you. Any color looked perfect on you, but this one? This one was his favorite.

He lifted his hands up, hovering over the hem of them. His eyes darted down to yours, “Can I take these off, Honey?” his voice sounded like a whisper, so syrupy sweet. He was so sweet on you, you nodded your head. Nimble fingers reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

Cold fingertips hooked into the hem of your panties, pulling them down slowly but steadily. Once he managed to slip them past your feet, you let out a breathy whimper from being exposed to the cold air. Sam let out a dark chuckle. The simplest thing made you shiver, it was cute. He believed he was the luckiest man in the world to be above you right now.

Your lips parted in an attempt to get words out, but all that fell from your lips was a whine. Sam’s breath hitched at the desperation you held for him, he’d never seen a girl like this, nonetheless you like this for him.

“Can I touch you, baby? ‘s okay if I do that, right?” It was like he was cooing you, coaxing you into further submission despite the submissive state you were already in. The 6’4 man hovered above you, looking down at you so lovingly it made you soak visibly.

“Yes, yes please…” a smile curled up on his lips at the manners you used. You were always so polite, addressing him and his brother as ‘sir’ when you first met them. Even in such a compromising situation like this, you still had that innocent aura surrounding you. He loved it.

“Thanks, sweetheart. So pretty lookin’ like this too, God—” You really did look angelic.

His fingers reached down to brush up your folds, earning a gasp from your parted lips. Sam quickly shushed you, you were foreign to his touch. You were new to this, he kept that in mind. His voice was soft as ever, “Hey, hey… jus’ me, Sweet girl. It’s okay, just relax for me… ‘atta girl.” You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

He started trailing his finger up your folds while his free hand held a grip on the side of your hip. Keeping you still in place so you wouldn’t squirm too much. His thumb reached up to rub at your pearl, and he felt your shaky hands claw at your back from the new feeling. He groaned, stroking you so softly you could barely comprehend it.

“That’s my girl, see? So wet, so damn perfect. You’re an angel, ‘kay? My angel.” He praised, you nodded in response. It was the only thing you knew how to do it seemed. You held onto him tightly, leaving your own mark in red streaks.

“Gonna start with one, yeah?” He gently pushed his middle finger past your entrance. The sound that left your lips was so quiet yet so loud. The mix between a whine, a whimper. You were squeezing his fingers so tight and he hadn’t even moved them yet.

He looked down at his single digit, knuckles deep inside of you. Sam pressed a kiss to the side of your head, constantly whispering sweet words to ease you into it. He started pumping one finger, then two. You looked so in bliss, he couldn’t imagine how you could get even more beautiful than you already were. He was the one making you feel like this. He was taking your purity, your innocence for his own.

Two fingers steadily pumped out of you, occasionally curling inside of you. Brushing against your gummy walls causing you to let out more mewls and incoherent pleas that you didn’t even know were for.

“Sam—“ You choked out, you were already close. He was proud of himself for getting you to the edge that quick, knowing that he was making you feel this immense pleasure.

“I know, Honey— Just ease into it, c’mon… melt into me like that, yeah?” You were singing a melody into his skin, it was tempting. Similar to a siren’s song and you had no idea the pull you had on him already.

He worked faster, just teetering you over the edge slightly more. He had you loosened up, getting closer and closer to orgasm with each push of his fingers.

The shockwaves that spasmed through your body made you gasp and cry out for him. The way his name spilled from your lips had him twitching in his briefs. He didn’t think he could get tired of this, of you. He never would.

The kisses he littered on your face and your jaw were a way to coo you, to calm you down. He gently pulled his fingers from your cunt, a moan left his lips at the mess you coated his hand with. All the way to his knuckles.

“Fuck, that was perfect, Sweetheart… you’re a natural. So beautiful, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your lips, his eyes widened for a split second at how quick you retaliated. The newfound eagerness in the way you moved your lips against his almost had him taking you right there within seconds. But this wasn’t about him, he didn’t want to be selfish as much as he had the urge.

When his lips pulled away just a second, a needy plea escaped your lips to bring him back to you.

“‘m not done yet, honey… promise. You wanna help me too, right?” His fingers cupped your chin between two of them. Lifting it up so you could look at him. The sight of you was absolutely gorgeous.

Your lips swollen from his kisses, a fresh mark forming on the flesh of your neck from his lips, and the slick between your thighs because of his fingertips. It turned him on more just to the thought of knowing he did this to you. He ruined you for himself. He got a little selfish just thinking about it.

“I wanna help you, Sammy… Can I help you?” How could you still sound so innocent? You were an angel sent from heaven it seemed like. You were everything he would imagine at night, and here you were. In his grasp. His hands.

“Good girl, c’mon, scoot back f’ me.” He adjusted you to the position he wanted you in, laid beneath him. When he tugged his boxers down, the sight of him made you nervous and in awe at the same time. He could see the mix on your face and he smirked faintly.

“Loosened you up, enough. Don’t worry, ‘s gonna hurt for a minute… that’s it, baby.” You nodded in a response, your doe eyes in a daze on how he lined up with you so easily. His hand cupped your thigh, guiding it upwards to wrap around his waist. His other hand moved to pump himself a few times, his eyes rolling back slightly just at the feel and the image of what he was about to do to you.

Once his head nudged against your entrance, Sam paused. He still wanted to make sure, “Are you sure, Honey? Need to know you’re sure, ‘kay?” You nodded quickly, before giving a coherent answer.

“Please.”

Sam guided your lips to his while he pushed in, his lips swallowed your moans almost greedily. Like he couldn’t get enough no matter how hard he tried. He was halfway in, and you were still squeezing him like a vice.

The guttural noise that left his lips was pornographic, along with the mewls and cries you gave him. He fed off it like it was his only supply. Selfishly enveloping them all.

“Almost- shit, almost there… Look how good you’re doing, baby. Y’ see that? See how you’re taking it?” He gritted his teeth to let out a hiss at your body’s response to his words. His middle and index finger rubbed at your clit feverishly, trying to loosen you up further so he could fill you completely.

You felt so full, so full of him. You couldn’t get enough, your eyes were wide, your lips were parted in a silent cry when he finally bottomed out. The praises and the dirty talk combined made everything so much more euphoric. He hadn’t moved yet and you were in ecstasy.

Sam knew he had to give you time to adjust, he knew this was your first time — but he also didn’t know if he could hold back for the remaining moments. The claws of your nails were sharp, digging into his scarred skin. He couldn’t explain it, Sam couldn’t explain how much that pain increased his arousal.

“M-Move? Can you- can you…” The words died in your throat when he pulled out and pushed back in. You moaned loudly, this was a public motel, and Sam knew that. He just didn’t want to shut you up. He wanted you to scream, cry, writhe beneath him. He knew you loved it. He did too.

You were so tight even after the previous orgasm he pulled from you, and he relished in it. How you clinged to him like that, crying and whining for more even though he was giving you all he could. All he had. He’d give you the world in the palm of his hand if you’d let him.

“Fuck… still tight even after I fuck you with my fingers, baby? God, you really are an angel, sent from heaven- damnit…” He was moaning the words out more than groaning. You felt impossibly good, sure this wasn’t Sam’s first time — but the way you were wrapping around him in the angle he bent you in, it felt like it. The leg he held up allowed him to drive further inside of you, to pull more noises from you that he knew would count as a sin.

Every thrust, every word, every single thing he did had you rolling your eyes back. Crying. Screaming. Begging. Never in a million years would you have thought you’d ever do this for a man. Much less for Sam Winchester.

But you knew him, and right now he was fucking you like it was the last day on earth. Why the hell would you trade that?

“‘m gonna- Sammy… right there, right there.” You urged him on, your voice so broken but yet held so much passion. It shocked you at the way you sounded. The way Sam looked above you, sweat on his features, hair falling in his face, lips almost formed in a pout. His head was slightly tilted back and he was obviously lost. Not just in the pleasure, in you.

His fingers rubbed against your bundle with more pressure, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from it, from him. He was so perfect yet he was the one praising you for it.

“F-Fuck, c’mon… cum, baby. Let me feel it- let me feel you cum, Sweetheart. Wanna fuck it inside you deeper, yeah? You’d like it? First time getting filled, getting used like this?” Sam was choking on his own words, his cock twitching inside of you every time you pulsed around him. You nodded, biting your lip again. Sam’s thumb moved to pull your bottom lip out, rubbing the bruised flesh with his calloused thumb.

You didn’t know when you came — all you felt was white shocks of hot pleasure coursing through you. Spasming around him and crying out. You swore you could feel tears well up in your eyes from how intense it was.

Sam wasn’t too far behind, how could he be? You were perfect. Everything about you.

The way your chest heaved and lips parted had Sam relishing in pride of how undone you looked. He did that. He was the one who ruined you like that.

“Perfect. So fucking perfect, baby…”

[justwonder113]

Sharing a bed with Changbin

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: What happens when Changbin comes to pick you up after a night out with your friends.

Warning: Chaos just pure Chaos. Cursing as always; Reader is a female; Both reader and Changbin are dummies. Literally idiots in love; Mentions of drinking, reader is a bit tipsy at the start. mentions of kissing. NOT PROOFREAD. Please tell me if I miss anything.

A/N- Heya babies I'm back! I really hope you'll like this, I really had fun writing this so I hope you will enjoy it. If you have any request of just thoughts to share please feel free to do so. Also if you want to be added to the taglist either comment or massage or even send an ask.

Word count- 3.5k

Sometimes drinking alcohol and getting drunk with your best friends was all that you needed to unwind after a hard week of working your ass off. However, as much as you loved feeling this light, carefree, relaxed and let’s just simply say euphoric, alcohol intake also had its cons. For example, this lightness and relaxation came with the price of being unable to stand straight on your legs and your crush looking way more yummy than usual.

You weren’t really planning to go out. After a day you had at work all you felt like was to go home, take a warm bath and snuggle in bed with some good movie playing on the background. Your best friend came up with the idea to go clubbing and getting some overpriced but tasty drinks. You were reluctant at first but after thinking things over you decided to go. And it was great! You had time of your life and it was just what you needed to fully relax and wash off the stress of your daily life. The only problem now was that you had a bit too much to drink and could barely stand on your legs and you felt really dizzy. Also watching Changbin help your friend (who was also wasted if not more than you) get to her door, and mind you he got every one of your friends to their houses because it was really late and he didn’t want them to go with cabs in the middle of the night while in this vulnerable state. You had to call mama Seo and thank her for raising such a gentleman!

Okay maybe you were a bit biased, It wasn’t a secret your feelings for Changbin had been more than platonic. You two had known each other for quite a while. You didn’t know when it started but you two had been flirting around with each other since forever but neither one of you made that final move to make things official. So here you were stuck in the middle ground, where you couldn’t really be called just friends but you weren’t dating each other either.

Of course you would be more than happy to get out of that situation. At least you would try and move on from him if he didn’t want to date and make things official. You just weren’t sure how you should make the first move, you always kind of expected he would be the first one to ask you out.

You were startled out of your thoughts when you heard Changbin return in the car, you couldn’t help but smile as you took in his disheveled hair and rosy cheeks from the cold.

“Are you sleepy baby?” – He asked as he noticed your dazed eyes.

“Yea, but I can’t sleep. I shouldn’t.” You sighed out as you watched him start the car.

“Why is that bubz?” He looked at you for a second before shifting his gaze to the road.

“If I close my eyes I can not look at your pretty face!” You made sure to whine as dramatically as possible. Changbin let out one of his notorious cackles.

“God that was so cheesy!”-He wheezed out after a few seconds of laughing like he had been possessed with a spirit of an ancient witch.

You grabbed your own cheeks making sure to smush them together just enough, blinked at him all cutely and continued to tease him like the sweetheart you were. “Shut up you love me.”

“I do.” Wow how the tables turn he just admitted it like it was the most common fact ever. Grass is green, sky is blue and apparently Seo Changbin is in love with you.

“Wait really?” You really couldn’t believe your own ears.

“Yeah of course.” Again, he was so incredibly casual about it! Oh no you couldn’t let it slide.

“Why aren’t you asking me out to date then?” There it was, there was no return now.

Changbin not only snapped his head so fast that there might have been a possibility that he could’ve broken his neck, but he also stopped his car so aburtly you had to thank god there was no one behind you.

“What do you mean ask you out?” Wow was it so horrible to even imagine it? You thought you two had a thing. Were you wrong?

“Oh my god have I been misreading the situation the whole time? This is so embarrassing. I am so sorry…”

It was his turn to panic now, which made you feel a bit relieved, because you felt like you were losing your shit! “No no it’s not that I promise!”

“When what is?” You couldn’t hide your desperation now. Maybe you could blame it on alcohol later and hope to move on?

“I thought we were dating?”

…

A blink.

Another blink.

“Changbin what the fuck? How the fuck did you believe we were dating?” You were full on yelling now because what the fuck did he mean he thought you two were dating! Since fucking when?

“I don’t know! I just did! We already act like a couple so what’s the big deal? Wait you don’t like me?” Forget all the sappy shit, you felt like strangling him.

“I do but…” God how did you manage to get yourself in this fucking situation? “God this is giving me such a headache.”

Changbin looked just as lost and even guilty. “I’m sorry. But I genuinely thought we were dating.”

“Since when?” You had to get in the bottom of this, or else your head was going to explode.

“I don’t know, like Han’s birthday party? You remember when you kissed me?” He tried to reason but the new knowledge almost made you choke on your own spit. God was really laughing at you.

“I fucking did WHAT?”

“YOU DON’T REMEMBER?” Changbin full on screamed in shock. Really what did you do to deserve this?

“NO!” You screamed back, and with it went last drops of alcohol remaining in your body and your sanity. Ain’t no way you could return to being normal after this.

“I mean I knew that you drank a little that day but damn! You don’t remember kissing me?” Changbin had his face in his hands, the car still ignited just casually standing in the middle of the road. Thank god there was no one around.

“Fuck me I gotta stop drinking. No I don’t remember kissing you.” Honestly nothing seemed more tempting right now than crying your eyes out at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

“Unbelievable.” Your heart clenched at Changbin’s sulky and sad voice. You were furious at yourself for not remembering kissing this cinnamon roll.

“I’m sorry. What happened? Tell me a full story.” You pleaded as if hearing the full story would magically return your memories and make the situation any better.

“I don’t know, I walked you home, we were about to say goodbye and you kissed me. I thought that you were drunk but you confessed that you liked me and it seemed so sincere, and we’ve been flirting for ages! How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t remember anything?”

“This is so unfair! You are telling me I have been literally dreaming about how would kissing you be like and in reality I have already done it?” Talk about unfair!

A biggest smile broke on his face and his whole mood shifter 180. “Aww baby you’ve been dreaming about kissing me?”

You really felt like pulling your own hair out now.  How was he so calm all of a sudden? “Binnie, baby, respectfully shut the fuck up.”

“But you like me!” He looked so giddy now, what a precious dummy. You really felt like shutting him up with a fat smooch on his lips. You had to pull yourself together.

“Bin you had been convinced we had been dating I don’t know for how many months now. I had you THAT convinced. Of course I fucking like you.”

“Aww you said it again that you like me!”

“I swear to god Seo!” Changbin gasped like he had been slapped making you also flinch in shock.

“Not the last name! I liked it better when you called me Binnie and baby and love and all the sweet stuff.” Was he serious right now? A smile broke out on your face against your will, he was so cute.

You sighed in defeat. “Okay I won’t call you by your last name.”

“Also not the first name. I’m Binnie to you!” To make his point he even crossed his arms, his lips all pouty and cheeks all fluffy.

“Okay Binnie.” You held in your pinky as a promise, he immediately linked it with his feeling satisfied.

 You two sat in silence for a few seconds, thankfully he started to drive again. “So like what do we do now?” He broke the silence looking at you with confused eyes.

“I don’t know Bin, let me think for a sec?”

“But” - He tried to protest but you didn’t let him.

“Please baby?”  You gave him the best puppy eyes ever, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be able to resist. You just needed a second.

“That’s not fair, You know I can’t say no when you ask me like that!”

The ride to the home was quiet, with the only problem arising when you were in front of your house.

“Bin I Think we have a problem.” You sighed feeling way too drained to care about this new problem.

“Wait what? Why?” You cured yourself for making him feel anxious, you quickly leaned in and grabbed his hands.

“Calm down baby.” You tried to reassure.

“What is it?”

“I just can’t find my keys.” You admitted bashfully.

“Are you kidding? Did you lose them somewhere?”

“No. I gave it to my friend when we left the house, she just found it in her purse she just texted me.”

“Oh thank god I thought we had to change the locks. Do you want me to go back to her apartment?” Really who was this cute and adorable? This was so unfair for your heart.

“What? No, it would be such an inconvenience. I mean we can go at your house?” You already felt like a hassle you didn’t want to tire him more, It was really late too.

“My house?” Changbin sounded genuinely so surprised you thought you said something wrong for a second. Changbin returned to normal in a second. “I mean it’s not a problem but like our sofa broke, turns out you can’t just like wrestle for the better controller or something like that. Okay what am I even saying you can take my room, me and Hyunjin had shared a bed so many times anyways.”

“It’s fine tho.” Your voice was quiet almost like a whisper.

“What is?” You looked at his face, he looked genuinely confused. You rolled your eyes, he really couldn’t take a hint sometimes.

“I meant that we can share a bed.” You tried your best to sound as cool and as casual as possible even though your heart felt like bursting.

“We can do what now?” he really looked like he couldn’t believe his own ears.

“I mean apparently we had been dating for months now.”

“Hey don’t tease!”

“I gotta do something! My head feels like exploding! We managed to get ourselves in quite a situation right here!” You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Anyway what I’m saying is that I’m completely fine sharing a bed with you. We’ve established that we like each other so I don’t see the problem here.”

“That’s what I thought the first time too! What if you forget again! What if you wake up in the morning not remembering anything and you’re just there in my bed with me in it! You’ll think I’m some sort of pervert and that I took advantage of you when you were drunk!” There he was being all dramatic and huffy all again.

“I’m not drunk!” Who would be drunk after this?

“You were a few minutes ago!” He had a a point but now you felt more sober than you were before you started drinking.

“Well not anymore! How can I be drunk after all that? And I was just tipsy! I was just fine! You were the one worried and insisting that you come and take me home! For which I love you and appreciate you but still!”

Changbin crossed his arms. “I’m still not sure.”

“What you want me to do a video proof that I fully consent to this?”

Changbin glared at you but then smirked suddenly looking smug. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea!”

“God you’re so petty sometimes.” Two could play the petty game, you took out your phone and pressed the record button. “Hello future me! It is exactly half past thee in the morning and I’m sitting in the car with Changbin who is driving me to his home. This is a reminder to you in case that I forget in the morning that I fully concent to sharing a same bed with Seo Changbin. And to avoid any further miscommunication I will say in this video that I like him like a lot and appartenly he does return the feelings. However if when we get there he doesn’t kiss me I will end this either month long or minute long relationship right then and there!”

It was his time to roll his eyes now, but he clearly looked amused by all this. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m warning you Seo!” Ain’t no way you wouldn’t get your kiss now that you two were aware of each other’s emotions. No way in hell would count the one you didn’t even remember as your first kiss with him.

“Whatever my love shall request my love shall get!”

***

The ride to his house was quick which was great you were dying to take off your shoes. Whoever invented high heels deserved to burn in hell. Thank god Binnie came to pick you up.

Speaking of which, being the perfect gentleman he is, he immediately got out of the car, ran to your side all cutely and opened your door for you, holding in his hand for you to take. You obviously took it, appreciating the kind gesture and also support because your legs really were hurting like a bitch.

Changbin helped you get out of the car, he even closed the door for you. You were about to thank him but something stopped you Something in his eyes.

You weren’t even able to question anything, before you even knew it, he wrapped his arm around your waist brought you close to his body and in mere second his lips were on yours.

The kiss was firm but also full of love, he kissed you as he was afraid to let you go. His lips were so soft and warm and his body… It was so firm and strong and warm. No wonder you felt so safe and loved whenever you were with him, You couldn’t help but cling to him as you tried to return the kiss with the same vigor. Both of your arms tightly wrapping around his broad shoulders.

Your whole body felt like it was melting, you were sure you wouldn’t even be able to stand straight if it wasn’t him holding you so firmly. How was he even so good at kissing? His kisses felt like a drug and you were getting addicted by the second.

After a while he leaned back and you couldn’t help but actually whine, god what was he doing to you? Seeing you chase his lips made the biggest smile break out on his face. God He looked so beautiful with his flushed cheeks and messy hair, his lips all pretty and pink. Changbin leaned in and gave you few short pecks.

After he felt satisfied with the amount of kisses he gave you he decided to just randomly sweep you off your feet, quite literaly. One second you were somewhat steady on the ground the next you were in the air desperately clinging onto Changbin confused out of your mind.

“What are you doing?” – You managed to huff out giggling at his cute antics.

“You’re feet are hurting.” He said it like a matter of fact.

“I mean yes, but are you going to carry me until we get to your house?”

“Why not?” Again so casual, like holding you and walking up to his house which wasn’t that near wasn’t a big deal.

“Binnie I’m heavy!” You tried to protest, even squirmed a little but to no avail.

“Not really, no.”

“Binnie it isn’t worth it, I’m really heavy.”

“What’s the point of working out if I can’t even carry my girl!” Wow your heart must have done a literal backflip because what the fuck was that movement in your chest?

“I’m your girl?” You didn’t even try to hide the lovesick expression that overtook your face.

Changbin glanced at you for a second, then leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose- “Of course you’re my girl.” So not mindful of your poor heart amusement clear on his face clearly enjoying your flustered state. He continued walking as it was nothing, like holding you was same as holding couple of grapes. He only stopped when you two were in front of his house.

“Can you ring the bell?” He asked with the cutest smile ever, how in your right mind could you say no? You rang the bell then it hit you, the situation you were in. You quickly covered your face as if Changbin wasn’t holding you like you were main dish on a platter. The cackle Changbin let out seeing your antics almost woke up the whole building.

Hyunjin opened up the door after a few seconds, clearly he just rolled out of bed. You felt bad for possibly waking him up. He looked at you two with unamused eyes, Changbin still proudly holding you refusing to let you down, and you looking through your fingers clearly shy.

“Huh so my wife is cheating on me with my friend.”

“Uh pretty much? You’re still number one in my heart you know that.” Changbin answered proudly.

“Hey hyun!” You greeted him shyly after you made sure to smack Changbin’s shoulder.

"Hey! Took you two long enough to get together tho.” Hyunjin deadpanned as he let you two in, Changbin finally letting you down on the armchair.

“Oh let me tell you a juicy story then!” You smiled mischievously completely ignoring Changbin’s protests.

After telling Hyunjin everything and him making fun of you two, mostly Changbin, you decided to get ready for bed. Honestly they would be lucky if the neighbors didn’t call the cops on them, they were so damn loud!

Anyway here you were now, laying on one side of the bed all snug in Changbin’s clothes as Changbin laid stiffly on the other. Honestly, he looked like he would fall of the bed any second now.

“Bin you’re about to fall off the bed!”

“I’m fine.” God even his voice was stiff.

“Bin you literally took my breath away the way you were kissing me earlier what happened now?”

“I don’t think I should get any more close.” He grumbled out after a few seconds of silence.

“Why is that?”

Changbin scoffed like he was baffled how you weren’t understanding what was wrong. “You’ll think badly of me!” Again grumbling inaudibly.

“I promise I won’t.” You tried to reassure him, even held in your pinky finger which he begrudgingly took.

“It’s just you’re here in my bed, in my clothes, looking absolutely beautiful and we were kissing and you look so kissable right now… How am I supposed to control myself?” This boy was going to be the death of you. Who the hell was this cute and adorable and so kissable on a random Tuesday night!

“Then don’t.”

“Baby I swear to god!” Changbin covered his face and almost fell out of the bed, thankfully you managed to drag him to the center of bed just in time. Also this gave you a perfect opportunity. You wrapped your hands around him and hugged him tight, Changbin immediately uncovered his face to wrap his arms around you and hug you back.

“I like you a lot bin.” You mused and leaned in to softly peck his lips, Changbin almost immediately melted into your arms.

“I like you a lot too.” He muttered before bringing you closer to seal your lips in a longer more passionate kiss.

“We’re really really dating now so don’t you start getting shy on me okay?” You couldn’t help but tease.

Changbin groaned at the teasing clearly not amused. “Brat!”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you got more comfortable getting ready to get one of the best sleeps of your life.

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ❤️

Taglist (comment if you want to be added^^): @velvetmoonlght

[tacticalprincess]

Hey there! I’ve been seeing your posts for a while and I wanted to ask for a suggestion, i know you mostly write smut, but what about nerd!König fluff?

Like a quick or long (whatever you want, nsfw or sfw) post on nerd!König non stop ranting to reader about his favorite things, it goes so far that every time reader comes over (they practically live together atp) they’re just dragged to the bedroom to get ranted to by nerd!könig.

If you haven’t already!!

(Can I be jelly fish anon)

-🪼

he’s literally ‘me and the bad bitch i pulled by being a loser��!! he loves info dumping to you, gets so consumed in it now that he has someone willing to listen. it amazes you how he always has something new to talk about, from the lore of his favorite video games to a documentary he watched on some niche war that wasn’t in any history books. sits you on his lap while he pours on animatedly for hours on end, barely giving you space to interject besides the various wow’s, though he loves when you ask him questions about it. he’ll fall in love if you nod along intently to everything he says, genuinely interested, but he’ll still continue to rant even when boredom glazes over your pretty eyes.

his fixation with whatever topics he’s explaining leads him to miss other cues from you. whether that be your stomach growling because he has talked for so long he forgot to order your food, or when you start getting in the mood for something else. giving him fuck me eyes won’t work when he’s knee deep in explaining the different kinds of assault rifles to you, won’t get the hint until you’re full on palming him through his pants. he’ll fuck you quickly and thoroughly before jumping right back into his monologue, after you express to him that learning about torture tactics that existed in the medieval ages during sex turns you off.

[sunder-soul]

hiii cud u pl do a headcanon/oneshot where its a muggleborn reader who smhow ends up befriending the tom riddle who always seems to soft only to her, including tolerating her sassy attitude and its a study session together and they're bantering or summin? i think it wud be nice. thank you!

A/N: Girl I gotchu

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

Unsaid

Summary: By now you've got a pretty good idea why you're friends with Tom, but sometimes, when it comes up, you wonder why he's friends with you. [GN reader ★ no pronouns ★ Hufflepuff house (but ngl it doesn't really come up u just gotta trust me)] Word count: 1.2k

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

“I’m dropping out,” you announce, dumping your bag on the table and falling emphatically into the seat adjacent to Tom’s.

Tom, for his part, does not look up. His quill doesn’t even hesitate as he writes in a smooth, unbroken script across his parchment. Instead, he says: “Your bag is on my book.”

You shove it unenthusiastically to the side to reveal the open textbook he’s been working from, and then fix him with a pointed look. Tom is set up in the same little spot in the library as always, his bag at his feet and at least ten other books neatly stacked off to the side of the table. He looks (as Tom always looks) like the poster boy of adhering to the uniform dress code.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong?” you say, slightly put out.

“I would not bother,” he says simply, leaning forward and dipping his quill in a small inkwell in front of him. “I’ve come to accept the inevitability of you telling me all sorts of things I don’t care to hear about, whether I ask about them or not.”

He resumes writing.

You kick his chair leg lightly and his quill skips sharply down the page, leaving a jolted line about an inch long off where he’d been writing the word putrescence.

This finally makes him look up, fixing you with a supremely irritated glare that’s made his whole face go tense.

You lean your elbows on the table and smile at him.

Tom’s jaw works slightly, and he takes a long breath. “What’s wrong?” he asks sarcastically.

“Well,” you say as he puts down his quill and bends to pick up his bag. “In Herbology this morning when we were cracking Wiggentree nuts, Lucy Grollen had this horrible allergic reaction and her feet swelled up so much that her shoes burst.”

“And this affects you how?” Tom drawls, diligently rubbing a Spellfriends eraser across his parchment.

You give him a scandalised look. “She’s my friend, Tom.”

He gives you a very dry look and then flips the eraser over to the purple side. “I hardly think you’d be tempted to leave the school because your friend is allergic to nuts.”

“Well she’s also my greenhouse partner,” you say dramatically, throwing yourself back in your seat, “and because she had to go to the hospital wing I had to finish the rest of the assignment alone­, and obviously by the end of class I didn’t have all our nuts cracked so Beery made me stay late to finish them. And that meant that I missed the sign up for the fieldtrip to the Menagerie of Mirabilia.”

Tom throws down the eraser and exhales in frustration. The ink remains unmoved. “You have been talking about that fieldtrip for six weeks,” he says in a clipped tone, pulling his wand from his bag. “And I have been telling you for six weeks that it was going to fill up quickly. Evanesco.”

The eraser shavings on his parchment vanish and leave both of you staring at the tenacious line of ink—which if anything, now just looks a little smudged.

His little comment about the whole six weeks thing has not left you feeling very sympathetic for him. “Wow. You have got to tell me what kind of ink you buy,” you say with a smirk as Tom tosses his wand onto the desk in frustration.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he says hotly, folding his arms and finally looking at you properly as he leans back in his chair. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“What happened with the fieldtrip?” he prompts irritably.

“Oh – so as I’m sure you remember, I promised Madeline I’d go with her on the fieldtrip because she’s obsessed with magizoology at the moment, so then I had to tell her I wasn’t going, and she was so upset, and I couldn't stop thinking about it because I felt so bad. So then I was really distracted in Transfiguration and of course Dumbledore notices and asks me to recite the whole definition of Amandation’s Command in front of everybody.” You sigh loudly. “So I can’t do it because I hadn't been paying attention, but then he points to the board and the definition is written right there and I just hadn’t noticed, and everyone laughed at me.”

You cross your arms too, feeling sorry for yourself. “The only solution is to drop out,” you reiterate moodily.

“This is one of your jokes,” says Tom delicately.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yes well spotted.”

“You’ve ruined my assignment,” he says, nodding at it.

“You ruined your own assignment. With your callousness.”

Rather surprisingly, Tom snorts a laugh. “I would loathe to be my friend, to hear you describe it,” he says with suspicious ease as he extracts a new roll of parchment from his bag. “It begs the question as to why you persevere.”

“Very occasionally, you do something really nice,” you say, watching him with suspicion. Tom’s irritability rarely fades this quickly. “I just kind of zone out all the bits in-between where you’re weird and sarcastic.”

“Weird and sarcastic?” Tom repeats, lips curling. “Have you been listening to yourself since you sat down?”

“My life is ruined, and you’re worried about an assignment.”

“Your life is not ruined,” he says monotonously as he begins diligently copying over his work.

“I’m upset about this and all you care about is telling me that it’s not a big deal!”

Tom sighs curtly and looks up at you, leaning forward a bit and resting his forearms on the desk. “Your life is not ruined. Lucy Groggen is going to be fine, Wiggentree nut allergies are fairly common and the reaction doesn’t last more than an hour, the worst she’ll have to deal with is buying a new pair of shoes. Beery should never have made you complete a two-person task by yourself and it’s ridiculous that he kept you late because of his own poor class management. If Dumbledore was half the teacher that he claims to be, he might have noticed that you were upset about something and think to ask you about it, but his mistake is made all the more egregious given that he chose to single you out in front of the whole class with what sounds like a very silly little trick. And I wouldn’t worry about upsetting Madeline if I were you, because I signed you up for the fieldtrip.”

He resumes writing without another word. You stare at him, dumbfounded. A full ten seconds passes before you can rouse yourself to speak again.

“You signed me up for the fieldtrip?

Tom’s eyes remain level on his work—he’s writing at lightning speed like he’s trying to make up for the lost time. “You have been talking about it for six weeks. It seemed odd that you failed to show up.”

You look at your bag still lying dejectedly on the table in front of you and attempt to process the glowy, warm feeling spreading up through your chest. “Thanks,” you say blandly.

He just looks up at you with a glint in his eyes about halfway between wry and cynical.

“I feel bad about your assignment,” you announce.

Tom slowly smiles, this time very wryly indeed. “You have certainly changed your tune.”

You grab your bag and pull out your water bottle, placing it emphatically on the desk beside him.

Tom’s dark eyes flick from it to you, and he lifts a brow. “Is this supposed to mean something to me?”

“You have to wet a Spellfriends for it to work,” you mumble, folding your arms and resting forward on the desk.

He stares at you in a sort of frozen state of disbelief. “You mean you let me suffer through all of that for absolutely no reason?” he demands in half-subdued outrage.

“There was a reason!” you protest, smiling at him again. “It was funny.”

He blinks once, and then snatches the drink bottle off the desk, shaking his head. “You are extremely irritating,” he says icily, twisting the bottle open.

“Huh, sounds like a nightmare being my friend to hear you describe it,” you parrot back at him with a grin. “One wonders why you persevere, Tom.”

Tom pauses, and instead of the scathing look of irritation or perhaps a biting remark back, he just looks at you with an unplaceable expression like you’ve caught him off guard.

“What?” you frown, sitting up a little in concern.

Tom blinks slightly and then holds out his hand. “Pass me the Spellfriends,” he says colourlessly.

You arch a brow right back at him, and retrieve the eraser from where it’s been lying discarded for the last few minutes in front of you. “If you were wondering what I meant by the weird part in weird and sarcastic…” you say to him pointedly, placing it in his hand.

Tom silently erases the offending ink stain with a taut jaw and an irascible look darkening his eyes.

“Hey,” you say.

He ignores you entirely, sweeping the fresh shavings off his parchment and setting the eraser aside.

“Hey,” you repeat, reaching out and taking his arm.

Tom’s gaze immediately flashes to you and he goes entirely still.

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. “For the field trip.”

He does not immediately reply. A second later his lips part like he’s going to say something, but they close like he thinks better of it. He blinks, and then pulls his arm from yours to reach for another book. “Are you intending on actually doing work this evening, or was this visit’s entire premise just to disrupt me?”

You roll your eyes, and reach for your bag again with a smile.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

[txttletale]

genuine question--would you mind clarifying why the use of trans lesbian is bad in reference to a trans person who is a lesbian? am i missing some context? i tried googling but i got mostly just a lot of vile garbage. nw if you're done talking about this topic, that is understandable. have a nice day (saluting emoji which i dont have but please imagine it here)

sure. 'trans lesbian' is, like, a compound word that means specifically 'a trans woman who is a lesbian', and not just 'someone who is trans and a lesbian', in the same way that idk a 'little finger' isn't just 'a finger that is small'. & obviously i am all for recognizing that labels are just labels, that words are not the things themselves, but 1. this is not, like, some weird backformation or super restrictive definition that people make up to mean arguments, it's how that word is used in common practice by queer orgs, media outlets, the UN, and 2. i think that there is context here that makes it pretty important to be extremely clear about who is and isn't a trans lesbian in this sense.

the context is that trans lesbians (ie, trans women, who are lesbians) are like at the center of the hurricane of transphobia across the world right now. ray blanchard, the fucking pioneer of modern pseudoscientific transmisogyny, specifically singles out the 'autogynophiles' (as opposed to the 'homosexual transsexuals, who are trans women attracted to men') as dangerous perverts. TERF's most hateful transmisogynistic caricatures and canards of trans women as dangerous sexual predators who are threat to Women's Spaces are implicitly about the Trans Lesbian. it's a term that sent the entire transphobia industrial complex into overdrive when it was used in some UN org's tweet:

these headlines are not about Trans people who are also Lesbians--both these articles are filled with all the usual bile about how trans women are really sexually predatory men who want to infilitrate womanhood. neither of the people writing these articles would like leslie feinberg for sure, but they also wouldn't think of hir as a Dangerous Predator Infilitrationg Women's Spaces. & so when the trans lesbian is the fucking like cultural boogeyman that politicians are determined to performatively target and punish, i think that using that language to describe people who aren't transfem is diluting our ability to talk about this kind of transmisogyny.

& i mean like, this is not just an abstract concern, right, because the instant that i initially took issue with was someone essentially saying 'wow, why do you think that people who obsess over SBB specifically and The 80s more generally as the end-all be-all of Queerness and Lesbianhood tend towards a transmisogynist view of thoes things when leslie feinberg is literally a trans lesbian.' like it is explictly and obviously a rhetorical sleight of hand which is why i treated that ask with the contempt it deserved.

[dollishmehrayan]

ACADEMIC RIVALS TO LOVERS WITH TIM ── .✦

a/n: guys who’s backk anyways this was a request by this lovely @pearlybaee (mentions aren’t showing up) but anyways I hope this reached the standards and tysm! ᥫ᭡

tags: ( tim drake x gn!reader)

THE RIVALRY BEGINS ── .✦

You and Tim Drake weren’t enemies, far from it. But being in the same academic sphere as him meant constant competition. It wasn’t outright hostile, but the two of you had a habit of accidentally one-upping each other in every single class.

“Oh, you got a 98 on the physics test?” Tim would say with a raised eyebrow. “Congrats! I got a 99. Must’ve been that question about Newton’s third law.” (That would’ve lowkey pissed me off oml🌚😭)

Your response? A shrug paired with: “Oh, it’s fine. I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. Maybe I’ll tutor you sometime.”

Cue Tim’s light laugh, which only fueled your competitive spirit.

UTTER CHAOS MOMENTS ── .✦

During a group project, the professor thought pairing you and Tim together was a great idea. Neither of you said anything, but your eyes screamed, This is going to be a mess.

Tim, casually: “I’ll handle the research and presentation. You can write the report.”

You, not missing a beat: “Wow, I didn’t realize you wanted to make us fail. I’ll handle the research, thanks.”

He smirked but relented, “Fine. But if the slides are ugly PowerPoint ones, I’m blaming you.”

In a debate, the teacher made the mistake of pitting you against Tim.

“Timothy Drake’s argument is valid—if you ignore all the facts.”

Tim: “Wow, I didn’t realize we were presenting opinions today. Did you leave your sources in the other room y/n?”

The entire class lived for these moments. (Yk when the teacher starts talking about they’re life and they forget the lesson, that’s vibe omg)

THE KIND SIDE ── .✦

Despite the playful jabs, Tim secretly respected you. The fact that someone could keep up with his relentless drive and still manage to make him laugh? It was impressive.

Once, you stayed late in the library, struggling with a particularly tough assignment. Tim noticed and, instead of teasing, sat down next to you with his laptop.

“You know, if you keep looking at that paper like it’s going to fight you, it just might,” he said, sliding his notes over.

“Wow, are you actually helping me?” you asked, pretending to be shocked.

“Don’t get used to it,” he quipped, but the grin on his face told you he didn’t mind.

THE REALIZATION ── .✦

The moment Tim realized he was falling for you was during a particularly heated trivia competition for a school fundraiser or smth. You buzzed in before him and answered correctly with such confidence that the crowd erupted in applause.

He just stared, dumbfounded, while you turned to him with a smug smile. “What’s the matter, Drake? Cat got your tongue?”

It hit him like a ton of bricks: he didn’t want to beat you. He just wanted to keep standing next to you, watching you shine and get to call you his too.

THE CONFESSION (WHICH WAS TOTALLY NOT REHEARSED 7X WHEN HE WAS ALONE.) ── .✦

Tim’s confession wasn’t grand or overly dramatic. Instead, it happened during one of your late-night study sessions. You were both hunched over a table, working through equations, when he blurted out:

“You know, this whole rivalry thing? It’s kind of ridiculous.”

You looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Ridiculous how?”

“I mean…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to keep competing with you. I want… I don’t know, to actually spend time with you. Without trying to prove I’m smarter.”

You blinked, surprised. “So you’re saying… you like me, is this a date?”

Tim groaned, cheeks pink. “Yes, obviously, I’m not just blabbing y/n.”

You leaned back, pretending to think. “Huh. This is going to be so fun to hold over your head.”

Tim laughed, shaking his head. “I take it back. You’re the worst.”

But when you smiled at him—actually smiled—he couldn’t help but think you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

[slxtarchive]

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬. ᥫ᭡ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you and chris have been best friends since you were younger but one night changes everything…

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. would you be down to write about chris and the reader are best friends who hookup and he confessed that he wants them to be more? — anon

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 soft smut, loss of virginity, mentions of blood. 18+ mdni !

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. this is part one of the request! the reason it took a while is because i wanted to get both parts out at the same time! hope you enjoy :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 2.2k+

PART 1. PART 2.

“you stayin’ the night tonight?” chris asked with a glimmer of hope in his voice. the nights where you stayed were his favorite because you’d both stay up for hours just talking and messing around. reminiscing and watching movies. your favorite thing to do together was binge-watch movies and shows.

“i gotta see because i have class in the morning.” you huffed. “he did say something about possibly canceling but he hadn’t said anything yet.”

“well, maybe you can still stay and if he doesn’t end up canceling then you can go and we can go out for lunch afterward. most of your stuff is here anyway.” he gestured to his closet. he was right. you practically had half of your wardrobe in his closet so there wasn’t a need to go back home and get anything. you even had your own toothbrush and shit.

“i mean, yeah sure. who knows maybe i can skip.” you said mischievously earning a laugh from him.

“yeah… like you’d skip.” he went to turn off his room like before lay down on his bed and turned on his bedside lamp.

“i would.” you stated, jumping onto his bed and falling down onto your back right next to him.

“you hardly ever skipped in high school! miss all straight a’s.” he rolled his eyes. “hardly ever did anything.. how do you say. bad girlish.”

“oh and you did so much?” you propped yourself up in your elbow to look toward him.

“i mean, i would skip and shit.” he shrugged. “but i also took care of my shit like grades n’lacrosse.”

“the only reason you skipped was because you were hooking up with that one girl. i forgot her name but she was so mean!” you scoffed at the mention of her.

“we never hooked up! we just made out in her car.” he defensively said.

“oh really? what about homecoming when she practically shouted to the whole world that you two had sex.” you raised your brows. “she’d even mimic how she sounded too. blech; she disgusted me.”

he furrowed his brows. “we never did anything. she tried to but i turned her away.” he stated.

“wait so you’re still a virgin? you didn’t even hook up with that other girl you were close with?” you looked down at your nails.

“nah.. i'm serious they kind of all creeped me out.” he shook his head. the news did sort of come as a shock to you considering all the talk you had heard in high school but in reality, deep down you knew that chris wasn’t like that.

“what about you though? you talked to that one guy..what was his name? caleb or something.” his nostrils flared.

“oh fuck that guy. he tried to do shit with me but he was so fucking weird i was like no thank you.” you waved off. “i always felt that he carried at least five fucking diseases on him.” you laughed earning one from chris too.

“wow, so we're both virgins. learn something new every day huh.” he said, his voice getting quieter.

you looked at chris with a smile on your lips feeling somewhat happy that no one’s gotten that part of him yet. when thinking about if they did or not you felt a jealous sting — like usual.

“yep.” you pursed your lips.

chris licked his bottom lip shamelessly staring at yours. he blinked slowly. “i’m glad no one got that part of you.. yet.”

“yet?” you asked, confusion laced in your tone. you studied his eyes, the only thing illuminating the room was the lamp on the table by his bed. the lighting highlights certain features of his face.

“do you want it to happen with someone you trust, y/n?” his breathing picked up. you could audibly hear it as the room was silent.

“i mean… id definitely hope so.” you said quietly. you hadn’t noticed how close chris got until his hand moved some hair out of your face. he wanted to be able to see your beautiful eyes and pink lips.

“yeah?” was all he said. the heat of his body was making its way toward yours. your stomach was twisting and turning. it was doing jumping jacks and was inhabited by butterflies.

“chris?” your voice pierced the silence; barely below a whisper.

“mm?” he responded, as he studied your face and the way your eyes glanced at his lips. that was all he needed to see before he leaned forward and connected your lips in a small kiss.

he started off slowly, not wanting to scare you. he wanted you to kiss him back. you were in shock. you let him kiss you for a few seconds before you started moving your lips along with his.

he pulled away once you started to kiss him back. you leaned forward trying to reconnect your lips but he pulled back with a grin. he then leaned forward, your lips connecting just slightly before he pressed them onto yours once again.

his hand came up to the back of your neck pulling you closer to him allowing him to deepen the kiss and fortunately for you — to take control.

the further he pressed, the more you were inclined to lean back causing you both to settle into a comfortable position where you were on your back and chris was on top of you.

you were addicted to the way he tasted. the way he sensually moved his lips with yours. the way when you both ran out of breath and had to pause chris couldn’t for long and was practically gripping your waist showing he wanted more.

this went on for minutes before he made the move to trail his soft kisses down your neck. your eyes fluttered open as if to try to differentiate whether you were dreaming or not — you weren’t. chris was 100% kissing down your neck, sucking lightly on your skin to mark you. his marks were closer to your collarbone but still not to where they won’t be visible.

chris was worried when he thought about how you might feel if he marked you up for people to see. in his dream world you wouldn’t mind it because they were from him but it was something you two would need to talk about; or at least he hoped.

the sweatshirt that you were wearing was getting in the way of his lips making a trail down further so he paused to ask, “can i take this off?” he said breathlessly — sounding like a total dream.

“mhm.” you responded, just as breathless as he was. you were so needy you took the action into your own hands as you sat up. he moved back to give you space before helping you with your sweatshirt.

you both took it off before you threw it aside. he stared down at you admiring your beauty. he got a weird feeling in his stomach. he didn’t know what it meant in the moment but he’d find out.

you wanted him to kiss you already so you pulled him by his shirt to connect your lips again. he moaned at the contact, starting to feel uncomfortable in his clothes around his lower area.

“you’re so beautiful.” he thought out loud against your lips.

you blushed resting your hands in his fluffy hair. “chris.” you whimpered very needy. you were fiddling with his shirt.

“yeah baby?” he let the name slip out. you liked it.

“need you.” you felt your arousal more than ever — it made wearing underwear uncomfortable.

“yeah?” he grinned lifting up your shirt. you took the gesture as a sign so you quickly took it off leaving you in your black bra. “how bad?” his voice was so soft and sexy. you wanted to hear it all the time.

“so bad.” you took your turn lifting up his shirt. he looked down watching you struggle. “cmon, please.” you begged lifting this shirt up more.

“okay okay.” he gave in and took his shirt off throwing it to the side. he then combed your hair back with both hands before grabbing your face pulling it toward him placing kisses all over your face. “always thought you were so pretty.” he murmured. he was drunk on you. on your taste.

“show me how pretty i am.” you trailed your hands up and down his chest. you stared at each other longingly before he connected your lips once more.

you both had another make-out session before you were on your back with him on top. he put on a condom he had pulled out from the depths of his closet and you both were ready.

“tell me if it hurts okay?” he wanted to make sure you both communicated. he wanted to make this memorable for you without hurting you too much. “i don’t know how long i’ll last, baby.”

“it’s okay it’s okay.” you murmured. “i’ll tell you if i need a break okay?”

he nodded kissing you once more before lining himself up. he gently pushed into you slowly groaning at how tight but smooth at the same time your pussy was. “fuck” he groaned at the same time you did.

“shit — ” you winced, the burn was like a kick to the stomach. “slow slow.” you repeated almost out of air.

“okay, baby im sorry. fuck.” chris hated seeing you in pain.

“just let me get used to it.” you breathed in and out. it was going to be okay. you would get used to him. is what you told yourself. well, you had hoped. he was a bit big.

time past and you and chris communicated until he bottomed out.

you had tears in your eyes as the stinging slowly went away. you felt so full. you couldn’t believe that your best friend's dick was inside you. he was full on inside you.

you opened your eyes that had been clenched shut to see chris holding back moans. he was biting his lip stopping himself from trying to move.

“okay, i think im ready.” you spoke up. he looked down at you and then at your bodies together.

“you sure?” he wanted to make sure that you weren’t accommodating to him.

“yes, im sure.” you nodded before connecting your lips again.

“m’gonna go slow,” he muttered against your lips earning a nod from you. he slowly started pulling out of you then pushing back in earning a loud whine from you. the sting was still there.

chris on the other hand was in a state of euphoria. he couldn’t believe this was happening. his sleek hair fell over his forehead as he was thrusting in and out of you slowly.

after a few times, he repeated his actions, and your pain started to form into pleasure. your mouth fell agape as you felt the first wave of pleasure make its way up your body. you felt chris hit a spot in you that had you going feral.

“h-holy fuck chris.” you gasped as one of his thrusts were particularly strong. he looked down at you with a concerned look on his face.

“mm — m’sorry sorry. just feels so good.” he whimpered, the noise sending you butterflies and chills throughout your body.

“faster.” was all you said as your hand was trailing over his back. you tried not to dig your nails in as he picked up his pace with a cheeky smile on his face but each thrust caused your nails to drag up his spine — knowingly giving him red marks. “so good. so good.” you repeated.

“god, i’m gonna fucking cum.” chris moaned, combing his hair back to allow you to see his expression for a split second. the picture was burned into your brain. chris was sweaty with his eyebrows furrowed. his lips red and irritated from the amount of times he’s bit them to hold back his moans. his eyes clenched shut because of the pleasure he was receiving.

the sight alone had the rubber band in your stomach on the brim of snapping. “chris… fuck chris. im gonna cum.” you cried as his thrusts got rougher by the second as he chased after his orgasm.

“go on, baby. let go for me, yeah? please, i need it.” he puffed out, winded. what really drove you to the edge was when chris reached a hand down toward your center and ghosted over your clit. he then brought his middle finger and ring finger to where you both were connected and collected the arousal from you both combined before slathering it on your clit and stimulating you at a rapid pace. your legs started shaking as you immediately felt yourself about to give in.

your eyes clenched as your hands grasped the sheets below you before arching your back — your orgasm hit you like a wave of intense euphoria. you let out a spurt of whimpers and moans. your own orgasm had chris’s following shortly.

“shit! oh my fucking god.” his hips stuttered as he tried to ride out his orgasm as best as he could which was tough because of how tight you were clenching him.

your chest ended up pressed against each other as he was laid on you, breathless and unable to move for a split second. there was only one thought that ran through chris’s mind when he came to his senses and that was ‘i’m in love with y/n.’

he had to find a way to tell you.

© slxtarchive

[topazadine]

Remembering Perspective When Writing Descriptions

Just a short pet peeve of mine, inspired by a shower thought, where I remembered the most terrifying description I'd ever read.

It wasn't bad, or even horror. It was well written.

However. The POV character described his *sister* in a way akin to this (my recreation, not the actual text):

Braden met his sister at the gate. They'd been apart for several years, and in that time, she had truly become a woman. Her curves had filled out, and her red silk dressed strained across her tight figure. Her long black curly hair shone in the late evening light, while her blue eyes watched him intently.

No, this wasn't a brocon thing. The (male) writer was just horny for his female character and ... kinda forgot that his MC, her brother, would not feel the same way.

Now, of course siblings growing up together are going to notice the other one maturing, but it's not going to be ... that. This is how I describe 17-year-old Uileac looking at his little sister, 13-year-old Cerie, in 9 Years Yearning:

She'd shot up in height this past year - almost as tall as him, to his dismay. Whatever they were feeding her in the meronym was quite good for her metabolism, as she'd put on a bit of healthy weight. Her cheeks were losing their baby roundness, and the autumnal light accentuated the sharp intelligence behind her green eyes.

In this description, you can feel Uileac's paternal attitude toward his little sister. "Oh, she's put on a bit of weight and isn't a total twig anymore! I'm glad they're feeding her well. Her face looks more adult. Fuck, she's almost as tall as me now ... I wish I weren't so goddamn short ...."

This is a much more normal way for siblings to talk about each other, if a bit more "dad mode" than the typical older brother.

Siblings who grew up together are not going to say "holy shit I can really tell my sister has become a woman, wow her dress is tight over her curves." If my brother had said that about me while we were kids, I'd throw up and dump a pot of soup over his head.

This kind of thing is generally accidental and has to do with how *you* feel about a character. But the thing is that even the sexiest femme fatale is just going to be Jennifer, The Stupid Annoying Sister, to their sibling. Our brains are literally wired not to see our siblings as sexy if we grew up with them.

There are many other ways that you must take perspective into consideration when writing descriptions. Here are just a few of them.

Sexual attraction/orientation

You're going to focus on different things if you're sexually attracted to someone; namely, you'll focus in on things like breasts, legs, abs, etc. You'll also likely devote more attention to describing people of your particular sexual orientation than you would one that you are not attracted to, and you will focus on different things.

This is part of why we hate "men writing women:" they describe every woman as if they want to fuck them. (See the first example.) It has to do with the places that their gazes naturally linger on any woman, which is what they consider important and what they focus on.

But the thing that they miss is that just because we are sexually attracted to a specific gender does not mean we would want to bang anyone of that gender. I am a lesbian, but the way I would describe my mom or my therapist is vastly different than how I would describe a woman I am actually attracted to.

Romantic interests should get a more sexualized gaze; not exploitative, just more in-depth, and with more focus on their figure, specific details, etc. Everyone else should get a more basic look at eyes, hair color, height, build, and so on.

Feelings about a particular person

You're going to be more forgiving and complimentary toward someone you care about than someone you hate. Things that would be charming on a friend will be downright annoying on that one asshole at work who always throws projects to you at 5pm on a Friday.

A lover's thick eyebrows might be called "dashing" or "strong," while on an enemy, they'd be "overbearing" and "harsh." Your bestie's lisp is cute, while it seems babyish on your school rival. Your dad's meandering sentences give him a sense of harmless musing, but they make someone else look like an idiot.

If you have a character that is prejudiced toward a given group, they are always going to describe that group more harshly than they would a favored group. If they don't like authority figures, a police officer leaning toward them will seem menacing, when they wouldn't even notice it otherwise.

It can be very fun to give two characters similar traits but describe them differently based on the POV character's perspective of them. Readers might not even realize that it's the exact same physical feature!

Previous experiences at a given place

When describing settings, we're going to give more attention to somewhere we care about, like our home. I imagine you can tell me about every chip in the paint in your bedroom, or that one weird stain in the floorboard that you've tried everything to fix. Many times, this is a good time to add depth to the character's backstory by briefly mentioning previous occurrences there.

Would you notice any of those things about a place you're visiting for the first time? Probably not. You'll give a more global attention to the scene and provide impressions, not specifics.

Depending on how nervous or adventurous you are, you'll look for similarities or differences to things that you're accustomed to. You might compare it to other places you have been, trying to get a frame of reference.

If you're on a vacation and were really looking forward to coming to this specific spot, you will likely hone in on exactly what you came to see, whether that's the scene from a particular hilltop or a cafe, and this will get the most description.

Current Mood

Descriptions change with a character's mood, even if they've been in that place a millions times. People just notice different things depending on their mood; if they're happy, they'll look for things that support that mood, while if they're upset, they're pointing out the negatives.

For example, consider someone walking into a court room when they are on trial versus when they are there as a simple court reporter. The person on trial is probably going to be glancing longingly at the door, picking out the angry faces of observers (or assuming the observers are angry), focusing attention on the security guards, staring at the plaintiff with hate in their eyes.

The court reporter will likely pick out anyone they know in the room before looking at anything else. Then, they'll check out the defendant and plaintiff with idle curiosity. Since they are more familiar with the room, they'll gloss over the boring details that they have already seen a million times, giving them only a cursory once-over to see if anything has changed.

Current Need

Your character's objectives need to taken into consideration as well. As an example, remember the last time that you really needed to pee while you were out. Were you slowly and casually admiring the scenery? No! You were hunting for the bathroom. If literally anything registered for you, it was anything that looked vaguely bathroom-sign-shaped. Everything around that bathroom sign, and on your path toward the bathroom, got more attention and description to you than anything else.

Your character's interests

When describing a scene, you don't need to take time and define every single little thing in a character's path. It's annoying and overwhelming. You need to give us a basic overview (it's a forest, it's a grocery store, it's an abbatoir) and then hone in on the specific details that your character finds interesting in order to fill out the entire scene.

We, as people, focus on things we care about, things that we feel are relevant to us. Different people will notice completely different things when they walk into the same room. An animal trainer will appreciate a big pet bed and an ergonomic food bowl. An artist will admire the artwork on the walls. A computer nerd is going to roll their eyes at the scuffed-up Mac laptop.

This doesn't mean that you can't describe other things, too; it just means that your character's attention is going to be drawn to stuff that they, in particular, like or dislike.

Things like where a character's gaze lands, how they describe things, and how much detail they give to any particular element are an important part of secondary characterization: how we get to know a character beyond what they do or tell us. It helps to create a fuller picture of their relationships, their interests, and their thought process, and it deserves just as much attention as actions and dialogue.

If you enjoyed reading this, perhaps you'll consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning. No weird sibling vibes I prommie

[hotnbloodied]

how about a bully yandere x f reader (smut if possibles)

bully yandere would alway say mean insult of reader because he was tough that by his parents who went to a party and saw f reader there, and how he saw someone put something in her drink and pull her aside and safe her and bully explain how he like her but reader said no to him because of how he treated her and some how convinced her to say yes

Thank you for the wait, the prompt was very interesting to write so I hope that you enjoy. -˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Yan!Bully X F!Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

CW: not proof read, female reader, sloppy writing, yandere tendencies, non-con, dub-con, sex in the woods, jealousy, drama, possessive tendencies, bullying, reader being pushed around physically, violence upon reader. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

“Listen Tanner, the best way to keep a girl is to make sure she knows her place. You understand me?” Faint remnants of a past memory played through his head when he saw you walking down the hallway. The way your body sways got him hypnotized on you and the next thing that he knew he had you pinned against a wall. The way that you looked at him, he knew he shouldn’t be doing this to you, but, “oh look at the little rabbit today, wearing a skirt because you’re a little whore?” He saw the way that you hold back tears by biting your lips, god, the things he’d give to know how they feel. He smirks before reaching down and lightly flicking your skirt causing you to flinch before walking away with a taunting laughter.

His days before he met you were boring, oh so boring. There was no color in his life, no meaning. Getting into college was just another social status quo that he knew he needed to pass through to progress in life. Going out and drinking with the boys, then finding a broad that would bat her eyelashes at him before she took him back to her place and he’d slip out before the sun came up. It was always the same bullshit but a different day. But then you came along.

Quirky, funny, adorable you. The way that you first peaked his interest in the English course with your well put together project about a subject you were passionate about. You were a nerd, that was apparent to him at least. Since that first revelation of your existence he wasn’t able to keep his eyes off you. It got to a point where he needed to make sure that he was somehow intertwined in your life, that’s when the bullying plan to get you to notice him started. At first it was small, comments about your behavior, “wow, you’re extra loud today.” Then it was comments about your appearance, “it’s amazing, I never knew that there were people who could look so bad in makeup.” Sure, it hurt knowing that each time he was even slightly around you, your whole demeanor changes and your body tenses up. But at the same time, seeing the effect he had on you gave him a power trip he didn’t know could be so addicting.

On one specific weekend, he was at a house party as per usual. Anything to beat the boredom of being at home and alone. But it wasn’t like usual, he had to look twice but he was sure of it, you were here this time. What was going on? Why were you here? What were you wearing? A tank top, a skimpy skirt, fishnet stockings. Oh he was pissed, parading yourself off like that, what kind of attention were you hoping for? He was going to watch you for a while but it got cut short when he noticed that while you weren’t looking someone slipped something into your open container while you were talking to someone else.

“What are you doing here?” The way your body freezes when you recognize his voice as he stands behind you, lips right at your ear, hot breath brushing against it. You stiffen, “I-I don’t have to explain anything to you,” you manage to say in your stiffened state. He smirks, unbeknownst to you, “oh? Feeling gutsy today aren’t we?” He grabs your arm with one hand and rests his other hand on your hip, “you’re coming with me.” You tried to tug out of his grasp but he was stronger than you, it was apparent already with how he towers over you. You looked around to see if anything could help but no one wanted to make eye contact with you, or they were too drunk. He started dragging you out of the house party you notice. You wanted to scream but as you were about to, the hand that was gripping your arm quickly covered your mouth. He used his body to guide you all the way out into the woods that was behind the house party and didn’t stop, much to your dismay or how much you wriggled. Until the loud music from the house was just a rhythmic thumping in the background and the moon above was your only light. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you couldn’t help but start hyperventilating. Tanner notices right away and turns you around before pulling you into a hug and rubs your back in hopes that you would calm down, “it’s okay, just breath,” he coos. Tears streamed from your face, originally from fear possibly but now from frustration perhaps, “w-why are you doing-g this? Why are y-you so mean to m-me?”

He looks at your shivering figure, your tear stained face, your sad expression and couldn’t take it anymore. His lips crashed into yours, hot, desperate and needy. Your instinct caused you to try shoving him away, which didn’t work and caused him to just grab both your arms and slowly push you back. Eventually, your back met the trunk of a tree where he hoisted and pinned your arms over your head. You broke away from the kiss and turned your head away from him, crying harder now, “please s-stop.” He took the opportunity of your exposed neck to engulf his mouth on to it, nibbling and sucking hard on to the tender flesh causing you to scream. A hand comes down on your mouth as he leans his body in closer now and you realize that you can feel his length that’s confined in his jeans rubbing against you. You shake your head in terror and make eye contact with him. He looks at you, “we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Agree to be my girlfriend,” he says as he lets go of your mouth. Your heart dropped to your stomach and your whole body tensed up again. After a few beats of you not giving a response he sighs, “guess we’ll be going the hard way.” “No no! Wait, I’ll agree!” You yelled out in a panic.

In the moonlit woods you can make out his smile when you finally relent. “Perfect.” He takes you and lays you on a fallen log nearby, straddling one of your legs while your other rests over his thigh. His hand now pinning you down again while the other shuffles in his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. Your eyes widened, “wait, what are you-” The blade made its way dangerously close to your neck before it snaked its way under your tank top shredding it in half. The sound of cloth tearing made your body jolt, but it didn’t stop there since he went for the waistband of your skirt next before finally freeing your legs from your stockings.

He plunged the knife into the log above your head causing you to swallow a sob as he hovers over you, retracting his knife back into his pocket, his now free hand feels up your body. Tingles form as he starts playing with one of your nipples as his mouth wraps around another, nipping and suckling. His tongue laps up to your collarbone and on to your neck again, most likely leaving hickies which you will find in the morning. You can’t help but to zone out and just watch as the lights from the house party you were just at rhythmically changes color.

Your attention snaps back to Tanner when you feel him rubbing your clit causing you to gasp. His mouth encases yours again as he works his fingers on your pussy. He feels you tense up when he tries fitting a finger in, struggling to even keep it in there. “You’re too tight, you’re going to have to loosen up for me.” He slides the finger out, then back in rhythmically, thumb brushing against your clit each time. When he added another finger, you whined, he was playing with your pussy now; fingers curling in hopes to loosen you even more. And as much as you hated to admit it, you felt the heat building up in your core. Eventually when Tanner pulled out his fingers it was sopping wet, you watched as he pulled the fingers to his mouth and sucked. “You taste so good, sweetheart.” 

The sound of a zipper was prominent and you felt something long and hard rub against your clit, the friction making your mind fuzzy. At first it was the tip, the entrance of your pussy was being penetrated by his cock as he hoists the leg that isn’t pinned  down over his arm. He released the hand that was pinning down your arms and instead opted to use it to hold down your hip to make sure you stayed in place as he fully entered you. Over your whimpering and moaning you could hear him grunt, “ah fuck, we’re finally one.” It didn’t register in your brain before he started moving. Slow and sensual at first but the thrusting sped up, both hands were on your hips now as the sounds of skin-ship echoed through the woods.

You looked stunning beneath him, he thought to himself. He knew this was probably horrifying to you but he didn’t care. Those guys wanted to defile you and you were his and only his to defile if it was anyone’s job. You were so wet, and so tight, all for him and only for him. Your squeaks and moans and whimpers as he ravages you were the most radiant melody he’s ever heard. Seeing the way your face scrunches, the way your tits bounce, the way your skin feels against his. God, he was close and so were you, he could feel the way you tighten around him. He lets out a growl as he climaxes into you as you let out a scream before going through your climax as well.

Your face is moist from tears as you pant, your whole body is sweating and you can feel the wetness in your lower region. An overwhelming wave of exhaustion washes over you and you drift off. Tanner notices your soft rhythmic breathing and takes off his flannel to wrap around you, keeping himself inside you for as long as he possibly could. Eventually though, he had to gently pick you up and take you out of the woods, back to his car where he will drive back to his place and tuck you into his bed. Your sleeping form is adorable to him and he couldn’t help but give you a peck on your forehead, “I love you, sweetheart,” he gently coos. And in the morning, when you wake up, breakfast will be ready for his lovely darling.

[blackenedsnow]

Hi I don’t know if you write this kind of stuff but I’d like to request a headcanon of Art the clown being into period sex?? I feel like he’d enjoy it?? Pls dismiss this if it’s too gross or weird

art the clown being into period sex ; headcanons

WARNING: NSFW/18+, period sex, blood, rough and intense intimacy, possessive behavior, some gore themes

PAIRING: Art the Clown x Reader

NOTE: Thanks for the bold request haha! I also think Art would be into period sex. It’s crazy because I was literally talking to my friend about it. (Reader has a vulva)

Art is drawn to blood in ways that go beyond typical arousal; it’s a mixture of awe and desire.

The moment he catches that hint of iron in the air, he’s transfixed, almost worshipful.

He enjoys how period blood flows naturally, almost ritualistically, and it only adds to his excitement.

Art isn’t just content with simple intimacy—he likes to turn things into a performance.

Expect him to toy with you, smear, trace, and maybe even draw shapes on your body, admiring the colors as he works you up.

He’ll never miss a chance to turn the act into something “artistic”.

He's so nasty

He’s practically delighted with the idea of things getting messy, like a kid with a new set of paints.

Art will touch and smear in every place, relishing the wetness and enjoying every drop.

He’ll pull your thighs apart just to see how much blood he can spread, taking his time with each movement, watching your body react.

There’s something almost reverent about how he goes down on you during this time, as if savoring a meal.

He’s unafraid to get messy and won’t stop until he’s left no inch untouched, his mouth smudged with red.

There’s no hesitancy, no disgust—only fascination as he laps up every bit, making it an experience as indulgent as it is horrific.

With blood smeared across his face and hands, Art enjoys pressing his fingers down, leaving red fingerprints along your skin.

His usual twisted humor plays into it, as he might even “play doctor,” mockingly inspecting you with exaggerated gestures.

Wow what a freak

[that1emowitch]

Bruce, high on painkillers, is being babysat by Jason. Jason has to do an emergency Red Hood thing, and lacking an alternative, slaps a stock domino on Bruce and drags him along.

Bruce proceeds to say/do the most unhinged shit. The goons are suddenly viscerally aware of where Hood got it from.

WOW okay you guys are unhinged, you know that?

(And I love it <3)

A/N: I fully intended to write a crack fic, but the feels crawled in through the plot holes I missed and made their homes in the heart of the story. Also I don't know what you mean by 'stock domino' so I'm assuming it's one of those dollar store ripoffs.

(TW: Accidental overdosing on painkillers, mentions of blood, Jason's usual level of swearing, some goons almost dying but like in a funny way.)

Word Count: 2328

Jason wants to scream.

Like, let it rip out on an abandoned cliff in the howling rain kinda scream.

But no, he's stuck babysitting Brucie Wayne who accidentally OD'd on fucking painkillers after trying to treat himself in Alfred's unfortunate absence (how does that even happen?!).

Dick and Damian are out doing some brotherly-bonding thing, Tim's with the Titans, Duke and Cass are at the movies, and Steph has declared herself "not one of Bruce's kids." Leaving Jason as the only one free to look after their "Dad".

Jason pushes Bruce down on the Batcave's gurney for the billionth time after he attempts (keyword: attempts) to walk again, scowling. None of them are getting any waffles from me again. Or pancakes. Or scones. Or anything I make for them out of my sweet, kind heart. Those little shits.

Jason puts two fingers on Bruce’s wrist, checking his pulse. His skin is cold and clammy, breathing slow, but at least he’s not vomiting anymore. He sighs, collapsing on a chair beside Bruce. He's tired. So fucking tired.

Just as Jason's eyes flutter shut for a moment, the Batcomputer's alarm suddenly blares.

Bruce shoots up, shouting, "ALARM!"

Grumbling, Jason drags himself to the computer, pushing Bruce down along the way. He opens the glaring red notification, brows creased.

Black Mask's goons have intercepted some military shipment...

"Ugh..." Jason groans, and moves to put on his helmet (he never changed out of his costume), checking his guns, when a sudden crash from behind him snaps his attention to the man-child he's supposed to be babysitting.

Bruce has stepped off the gurney and collapsed face-down on the med bay's floor.

He can't just leave him there, can he?

Jason considers his options: He could either strap Bruce to the gurney and leave (in which case Dick will have his head), or he could take Bruce out on the streets with him (in which case Dick will absolutely want to murder him.)

Jason smirks. It’s obvious which one’s the right choice.

Ten minutes later, Jason’s riding through the city at over a hundred miles per hour, with Bruce strapped to the backseat of his motorcycle. Bruce is wearing a dollar store ripoff of the Robin domino and a Robin-themed cape made of Tim’s bedsheets, looking absolutely ecstatic at the high speed.

They arrive at the warehouse where Black Mask’s goons have transported their stolen goods, parking in a shadowed spot a building away. Jason gets off, helping Bruce onto his feet, and says, “Now, I’m going to go shoot some people, you stay hidden and quiet, got that?”

“Guns are bad,” Bruce replies, holding a finger to Jason’s helmet. “Just like clowns. And ducks.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jason shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this right now.

Jason quickly scales the nearest building, grappling to the roof of the warehouse. He peeks in through a hatch in the roof to survey the area. There are about a dozen armed goons, none of them looking very bright. There are 4 crates they’re guarding, likely filled with ammo.

Cocking his guns, Jason jumps down through the hatch, landing right in the middle of the warehouse with a ‘thud’ sound. “Surprise,” He grins, raising his guns.

“Aye, that’s Red Hood, ain’t it?” Comes a goon’s terrified voice. The others around him immediately aim their guns at Jason— they’re clearly untrained.

Suddenly there’s another thud behind him. “That’s a bucket, you morons!” Comes a too-familiar, slurred voice. Jason turns around to come face-to-face with Bruce, eyes wide. 

In a fight with any real criminals, this distraction would have cost Jason his life. But luckily these adorably clueless goons are just as shocked as him.

Unfortunately the distraction only lasts for a few seconds. Jason immediately jumps into the fight, shooting three goons in the kneecaps and dodging a few bullets. From the corner of his eye, he sees two more goons running out the door, crying. He punches another guy in the face, instantly knocking him out, and is about to turn back to check on Bruce when suddenly something hard collides with his skull.

Jason staggers slightly, trying to regain his balance, when he sees a goon holding a giant stone, wearing a proud grin.

Fuck, his helmet’s probably busted…

Then suddenly Bruce is running towards the goon, hands fisted and veins popping, screaming, “NO ONE HURTS MY SON!”

Then Bruce’s fist collides with the goon’s with a sickening crunch, splattering blood across the floor as the man crumples to the ground. Bruce doesn’t stop there, and continues to beat him up, yelling profanities.

It warms Jason’s cold, (un)dead heart to watch that— to see his Dad fighting for him. It’s like they say, you’re most truthful when you’re drunk— or high. This is how much Bruce loves him.

Then another thought strikes him— Bruce is going to regret being this violent when he sobers up. It’s going to claw at him, tear him up, and he’s going to compartmentalize and end up punishing himself by overworking.

Jason rushes forward, pulling Bruce off of the man. “B— Robin, stop!” He shouted, looking into the man’s domino-covered eyes.

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Robin?”

Jason points to Bruce’s Robin-themed cape and stock domino.

“Ah.” Bruce nods, pulling away. “You okay? Did you see any duck?”

“Duck?” Jason pauses in confusion. But before he can question it farther, he spies the three remaining goons using a ladder to climb up through the roof of the warehouse, trying to escape.

“Stay here. And do not move.” Jason orders Bruce, and runs after them.

He makes his way up the ladder as fast as he can , exiting under the polluted night sky. The goons, the ridiculously stupid goons, are standing around the edge of the roof, trying to figure out how they’re going to get down.

He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this ridiculous shit.

Actually, scratch that, he doesn’t get paid at all.

“Wow, you guys are pathetic,” Comes Red Hood’s robotic voice, startling the goons, and one of them accidentally topples over the edge, screaming. Jason ensures that the guy’s hanging on tight— he can wait.

He cocks his guns, aiming both at the two standing goons. Both men are trembling with fear, hands up in surrender. “Hood— Mr. Hood, please—” One of them squeaks, but one look from Jason shuts him up.

“Please. Mr. Hood was my father,” Jason quips, his robotic chuckle sounding sinister. 

That’s when he hears another voice behind him (again)— “But I’m your father.”

Jason jumps, whipping around. “How did you— I didn’t even hear you come!”

Bruce just shrugs innocently, waving his bloodstained hands at the terrified goons.

Then Jason hears the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. From the corner of his eye he sees the bolder of the goons, the one that had spoken before, taking aim.

“DUCK!” He yells, falling out of the way.

Instead of dodging, Bruce falls into a defensive stance, looking around frantically. “Where?!”

The bullet barely misses Bruce’s ear as he turns his head.

Jason has had it with sky-high Bruce now. Annoyance rising, he quickly shoots the two goons in the kneecaps, forgetting about the one hanging off the edge, and stalks up to Bruce, glaring.

“What is up with you and ducks?!” He demands, his voice raised.

“Ducks are evil,” Bruce spits, nose wrinkled. “Just like clowns. And bats.”

Jason’s brows raise. “Bats are evil?”

“Yeah, duh, that’s why everyone’s scared of Batman.” Bruce rolls his eyes, his drawl sounding too much like Steph. “Bats are scary.”

“You really took ‘become what you fear’ too literally, huh?” Jason snorts, putting his guns back in their holsters. Then he takes off his helmet, checking the damage— just a slight crack at the back. Not too bad.

“You know, I fell into a hole and into a cave when I was a boy and a dozen bats attacked me. I nearly died.” Bruce continues, gesturing towards the air with his hands. 

“Yeah, right.” Jason shakes his head, chuckling. “Now come on, we gotta get you back.”

That’s when another voice rings out, high-pitched and scared. “Um, Mr. Hood? Please HELP! Please, please, please—”

Jason’s attention snaps to the corner of the roof— ah, right, the goon’s still hanging off the edge, isn’t he?

He grumbles, making his way over, and squats above the man, shaking his head. The man below him looks like he’s pissed himself, face ashen, tears running down his cheeks, muttering, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” On repeat.

“I’ll pull you up on one condition,” Jason looks down at him, voice low. “Never become a gun for hire again. If I see you fighting on the streets…” He pulls out his gun.

“No, no, I won’t, I swear…” The man whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. Jason sighs, and grabs the man by the collar and hauls him up. He crumples onto the roof, curling into a ball.

“Take out your phone and dial 911, tell them you’ve been naughty,” Jason orders, his gun pointed at the man’s head. (What? A guy needs to have some fun.)

The man whines, and immediately obliges.

“Pathetic,” Jason ties the man up quickly, and makes his way over to Bruce, who was sitting on the floor of the roof, taking apart some random crushed handphone he’s found.

“Get up, old man. GCPD will be here soon. We’re going home.” He pulls Bruce up, ignoring how he longingly stares at the dismantled phone.

The two of them grapple down from the roof, landing safely on the pavement. As they walk towards his bike, Bruce says, “Did you know I ate a phone once?”

Jason stumbles slightly. “What?”

“Tasted nice. Like electricity. Crackle-y.” Bruce hummed, his face straight (as straight as someone dating Superman could be). He isn't kidding.

That, or he's delusional.

“Don't try it. You might turn into a computer or something.” Bruce nodded very seriously.

“Oh god,” Jason snorts. “I'm so glad my helmet’s recording all this. Perfect blackmail material.”

“Black's a very, very pretty color.”

Jason rolls his eyes, revving the motor, making sure Bruce is safely strapped onto the backseat behind him. “You're just emo.”

“What's emo?” Bruce raises an eyebrow, words slightly slurred.

“Y'know, when people wear all that black makeup, skinny jeans, with hair covering their eyes.” Jason explains, putting a spare helmet on Bruce's head. “And listen to, like, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. The Emo Trinity.”

“Oh, oh!” Bruce's eyes sparkle. “Dickie used to do that! He went to a My Chemmy concert once, but he didn't want me coming along.” He pouts.

Jason thinks of all the times Gerard Way has shoved a mic down his throat and grabbed his junk. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Then he turns around to look Bruce in the eye. “But, Golden Boy was emo? Seriously?”

Bruce just smiles and nods, saying, “Now go.”

“Going,” Jason smirks and speeds down the streets of Gotham city, not slowing down until their surroundings change from shitty apartment buildings and broken street lights to the eerie quiet of Bristol. He can see the Manor in the distance when he takes a hidden turn, straight down the road that leads to the Batcave. 

He pulls into the underground ‘garage’ section of the Cave, parking his bike before helping Bruce off. As he removes Bruce’s ripoff domino and “cape”, he says sternly, “Now, you tell no one of what we did today, got that? Not a soul.”

Bruce just flashes a thumbs-up and smiles in the most un-Bruce-like way possible. It’s a little creepy, honestly.

“And even if you remember this once you sober up you won’t talk, because you swore on your soul not to tell.”

“Mhm. Kay.”

“Good.” Jason smiles slightly, helping Bruce back to the gurney, making him lie down. He checks him over for any symptoms that the painkiller overdose is making his health worse. His skin’s still cold and clammy, but his breathing’s more steady. His pupils aren’t as small anymore, and he’s way more responsive than he was an hour ago.

Huh. Maybe all he really needed was some exercise.

Jason sits down beside his father, taking a deep breath. “Hey, uh… Did you really mean that, back there? That… That I’m your son?”

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Yes, who else’s son would you be? Superman’s?”

A short laugh escapes Jason. He moves closer to Bruce, lying down so his head is resting beside the older man’s. “I just…” He sighs, unable to form the right words. “I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but… I love you, Dad.”

“Aww, Jaybird…” Bruce’s hand moves sluggishly to cradle Jason. “I love you so much more than you could ever imagine.”

A small smile plays on Jason’s lips as he closes his eyes, leaning into his Dad’s touch. Maybe… maybe babysitting a high Bruce isn’t so bad.

[BONUS!!!]

Dick walks into the infirmary nearly an hour later with Damian trailing behind him, intending to check up on Bruce. He’s been ringing Jason’s phone for a while now, but he hasn’t been picking up. And… Honestly, Dick’s getting worried.

“Tt. I knew we shouldn’t have left Father’s safety in the hands of an incompetent fool such as Todd,” Damian frowns, scowling.

“No, no, it’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Dick tries to reassure his baby brother, but he picks up his pace. “I mean, we both know what Jason’s like. One moment he’s nice, one moment he’s—”

His voice trails off as he sees Jason sitting on a chair beside Bruce, who’s on the gurney— both asleep, with Jason’s head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce cradling him.

“Aww, Little Wing…” Dick smiles, pausing. Even Damian freezes behind him. Dick steers him away, back into the main house, so as to not disturb the sleeping pair. “Yeah, they’re okay. Nothing bad happened.”

[alphabetboyluvr]

landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk

part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.

warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

wordcount: 6.8K

note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.

“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”

You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.

“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.

There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.

It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.

“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”

The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.

“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”

“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”

“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”

He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”

You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”

“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”

“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”

He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.

“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”

“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”

“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”

“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”

“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”

“Show me him.”

You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.

Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”

“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”

“Will do. Night, buddy.”

“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”

He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.

“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.

“Daddy.”

“I am his dad!”

“Daddy.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Fuck off!”

You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.

His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.

Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.

It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.

You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.

Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.

Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.

There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.

See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.

Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.

You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.

He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.

But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.

It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.

It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.

He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.

It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.

“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.

“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”

But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.

“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”

You’d just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”

Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.

Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.

You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.

He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.

In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.

You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.

“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.

“You gotta promise me something first.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t fall in love with me.”

You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”

“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”

“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

“What do you want?”

“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”

“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.

You love Bam.

In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.

Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.

You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.

Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.

Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.

Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.

Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.

Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.

“Hey, wait…”

“Mhhm?”

“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”

He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.

He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.

You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.

When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.

Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.

He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.

But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.

There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.

But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.

And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.

He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.

Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.

And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.

You’d both be soaked.

He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.

It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.

His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.

He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.

And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.

He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.

He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.

He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Just thinks about you.

Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.

His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.

He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.

In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.

The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.

He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.

His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.

You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.

It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.

You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -

“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.

But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-

Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.

He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.

He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.

It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.

You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.

And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.

He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”

It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.

But you don’t see Mingyu.

When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.

“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”

You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”

The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.

“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”

“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.

“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.

“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.

“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”

“Understandable.”

You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.

“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”

“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”

“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”

“Wait, no-”

You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.

The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.

Jungkook lies awake that night.

Doesn’t do much.

His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.

He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.

Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.

Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.

He rarely ever goes in there.

Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.

It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.

In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.

But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.

Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.

But you do.

An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.

“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.

It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.

“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.

And he knows.

He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.

Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.

It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.

It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.

One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.

And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.

One more day. He can do this.

He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.

He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.

The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.

It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.

It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.

He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.

He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.

Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.

At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.

But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.

Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.

Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.

“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”

Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.

They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”

His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.

“He was lost without you,” you confirm.

“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”

Bam barks. Yes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”

Yes, you think. Yes, he is.

The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”

Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.

“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”

Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.

“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”

He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.

You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.

And then, they roll.

“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”

“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.

“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”

Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”

You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.

“He LOVES me.”

“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”

Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.

So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.

Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.

But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.

Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.

Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.

“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”

“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.

A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.

But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.

It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.

Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.

When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.

Thinks of you.

And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.

The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.

And apparently, so is he.

Shit.

part two (x)