#I'm in brain hell just a little bit

[egophiliac]

missed the mark by (looks at calendar) uhhh. hm. but I really wanted to do something for the 5th anniversary! happy five years to these idiots 🎉

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Everyone: We need to find Avatar Kuruk's reincarnation! Hey, that one boy! He kinda looks like him! He even has his smile! He must be the Avatar. Kyoshi: *literal shiny variant of Yangchen roaming the streets of Yokoya*

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

I am unreasonably upset about the fact that I've been forced to accept that Gabriel was a Gerald.

For context, in An Inspector Calls, Gerald Croft is engaged to Sheila Birling when he meets a homeless, struggling Eva Smith in a bar, and essentially in return for a home and money he shows her affection (ahem), then gets rid of her once he no longer has a use for her. Now, obviously this isn't a direct translation, but the essentials are - a Gerald is a character who uses another character, in return for something they need, usually masking the fact that they're using them with affection and love.

And against my will I've had to accept that this is exactly what Gabriel does to Nathalie.

Did I want to think he had potential to be better? Did I think he genuinely cared for Nathalie?? Hell, did I just really really want somebody to care about Nathalie???

Probably all of the above but the point is: he's Gerald. And I cannot - I literally can't unsee it now. Their whole dynamic in S3 is like “oh boohoo I'm sorry I wish you didn't have to use the peacock Miraculous and kill yourself over it but uh I need to use your powers” “yeah no that's fine I'm all good”. Which, given the "Gerald" theorem, I'm assuming leads to the fact that what Nathalie needed, above all, was someone to care about her - and Gabriel came along, as Sheila Birling puts it, "like a fairytale prince", and was so caring and gentle and... Yeah. She fell for him. And. Yeah he genuinely did seem to care like twice. But so did Gerald. Gerald actually admits that he did care for Eva, just not the way that she cared for him, and, uh, not enough to not just dispose of her. So he discards her anyway when she stops being useful.

Leading me neatly to my point.

He starts using the peacock Miraculous the second it's fixed, the slimy bastard, HOWEVER. It runs way deeper than that. Assuming I'm right (which I almost DEFINITELY am), then Gabriel only needed Nathalie while she was useful. She didn't stop being useful in season three - she's still scheming for him, helping him with plan after plan. It's only partway through season 5 that she officially servers ties with him, and starts to actively hinder him.

Nathalie stops being useful when she fails as Safari. And I reckon that's when Gabriel and Tomoe decided she had to go.

(It's painfully, I-was-ugly-crying-over-it obvious in Conformation that Gabriel is fully prepared to let Nathalie die - in the original storyboard, her alliance was encouraging her to sleep, and he's very obviously prepared for this moment - I've made a separate post about it that I'll link if I can find it. However, onto the next bit)

With all of this, there's one thing that sticks out to me - Nathalie didn't see any of it until it was already too late. There could be many reasons for this. But you know who would have seen through it? Whose parents were all loving and perfect until she married the wrong man? Emilie. Emilie, who left behind those videos, which on the surface look innocent, but when you look deeper look like a (love confession???????) AHEM a warning. I reckon Emilie noticed what was going on and realised that Nathalie wouldn't see through Gabriel, so she left those videos addressed to Nathalie (not Gabriel, which surely they should have been - they were about him, after all - unless they were there...) as a warning. I don't think the videos were supposed to be about helping Gabriel, I think Emilie was warning Nathalie to get the fuck out of that house, and to take Adrien with her. Because Emilie knew it'd end like this.

Yes I'm still mad ok give me a break.

[cq-studios]

Wake up. Missing Link was never cancelled. This last month was all just a bad dream.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't-

[mars-ipan]

oh my god i'm fucked up today because i've been having an anxiety attack that makes. so much sense jfc

[doggytail-duck]

I'm at the point where it's increasingly hard to function again, I can't even do fun stuff let alone things I need to get done

[practically-an-x-man]

man that one poll is really making me realize how differently people experience chronic fatigue. like for me it's more that i'm just physically exhausted regardless of how much sleep i get, but can't make myself sleep until my brain is finally tired enough to stop endlessly spinning. and then I see my friends who also experience chronic fatigue being like 'oh yeah I could go to bed after just a few hours of being up' and while I don't envy you or think either situation is worse than the other, I do think it's interesting how we experience chronic fatigue differently

[wekillitwithfire]

finished reading Hell Bent i thought it was the last book in the series but now i have to sit here with a cliffhanger for god knows how long

[keeps-ache]

wearing pajama pants under my usual clothing because 1) i didn't want to take them off 2) it's cold as hell in this building all the time 3) i am so cozy dude you have no idea

[xstarlightxstarbrightx]

this is a bit of a weird post but bear with me.

so i've been dead b/c of college + finals, right? no this is not an "i'm so sorry post" i'm going somewhere with this.

despite being dead on most social media (b/c i'm just not a social media person), i have been REALLY active on AO3 and have posted SOME fics, righT?? and like i love getting comments ALL THE TIME on AO3, no matter what they say, b/c i like hearing feedback and seeing people engage with my writing. that being said, i'm not gonna lie, i got THE FUNNIEST comment today on one of my recent fics

it was a Neuvilumi fic for Caelestium (b/c i love my sillies), and this person just goes

"How dare these scabs try to dismantle the sanctuary we've built? You walk amongst us spreading dissent as a rat carries disease."

I'M CACKLING??? DEAD ON THE FLOOR. DESTROYED. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN???????? THERE WAS NO OTHER CONTEXT. WHAT????? i love the way they said it, too. like it feels like i should be insulted but instead i'm just so curious as to where they got this from like. oh my god. please sir tell me more of why i'm a rat and how u came to that conclusion, i'm begging. i can only imagine it's b/c i mis-tagged something since i am HORRIBLE at tags but they didn't give me ANYTHING ELSE aside from this and that just makes it even better.

this post is 1000% serious. i'm not trying to mock this person or anything like that. i am just so in love with this comment that i've been thinking abt it all day at work. i'm going to be using this in my vocabulary now. i am but a feeble little rat spreading dissent like it's the plague.

[neverendingford]

.

[edensrose]

꒰ ݁˖ꫂ᭪ ꒱ 𓂃 GUYS MY AGE

˚₊‧꒰ა older boyfriend jjk men ﾉ f. reader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

guys your age just don't know how to do it, do they? nothing to worry 'bout when he's nearly twice your age hunny. ⌇ based off guys my age - hey violet

starring ᝰ.ᐟ✧ g. satoru, n. kento, g. suguru

broadcast ᝰ.ᐟ✧ minors dni, age gap ꒰ 40s/20s ꒱, semi-public, fingering, brat taming, praise, degradation, overstim, orgasm denial, pussy spanking, thigh riding, spanking, sweetnana, meantoru, meansugu 𓂃 wc ⌇ 2.7k

sweetheart host ᝰ.ᐟ✧ older bf brain go brrr . . . really hope my toru bias ain't obvious. art cred ⌇ yamada_souko, ru_ka_night

˖ 𑣲 Don't know how to treat me ᝰ.ᐟ✧ N. Kento

Silk slipped through your fingers like liquid gold. Velvet kissed your skin in whispers you could barely afford. Each sapphire along the silver bracelet hugging your wrist winked at you. Don't even get started on your heels, your earrings, the fourth shopping bag laid idly beside its friends from three other stores.

The cherry on top? Two large hands scorned from years of work yet ever gentle in their smooth trace down your curves.

"I think this dress suits you well, don't you, darling?" Even Kento's kisses felt expensive. The grandest of jewels laid over your shoulder as if you deserved each one. Hell, as if you deserved every store your pretty little self stepped into it.

"Well . . ." you roved over the mirror's scene. Your beloved was behind you with his hands worshipping every crevice and crook of your body, his lips painting affection across your shoulders and neck. The dress was gorgeous, comfortable, the finest material only for his darling.

Instead of the silk, your eyes drew to the price tag written in invisible ink between the creases.

"It's a bit pricey. I don't think I'm worth all this expense."

His lips paused. Glued to the junction between your shoulder and neck. One comment and suddenly, his gaze flickered to you. As if that alone would reverse time and have you gulping the words down instead.

Kento stilled, then asked — even if it didn't sound like a question. Low, quiet:

"Come again?"

Silk was the least of your concerns. Slick became all you knew. Pooled around his palm and messing up his favourite watch you're sure. Not that you could see with your vision impaired by his chest. Your front flushed into him while his hand worked endlessly behind.

Fingers tremble in his shirt. Each twitch another apology to his digits pumping fluidly into your syrupy slit. They fucked until the knuckle, withdrew every few shallow thrusts, then slammed back in until you were drooling all over his blue fabric.

"K-Kennn - please," you hiccuped, forearms flushed tighter to his chest as you peeked at the mirror behind you. Panties pulled to the side and hanging on a limb while his hand pistoned into your pretty, swollen pussy.

"Sssh darling. You're too pretty to be talking about yourself like that." His drawl rumbled into your ear after a soft kiss pressed against it. His wrist rotated and you choked a moan as he braced speed.

"Too pretty to beg. Don't want to hear that ever again. You hear me?"

Nods were all you could manage. Your thighs squeezed tighter, but it didn't matter to his large hand. His free one caressed your side with his strong arm steeling you against him. Trapping you as he fucked all your insecurities out in splutters and squirts.

Kento crooked into a spot that made you bite down on his shirt, whimpering. Your hips bucked helplessly with your pitiful little — "Ken - Kento 'm gonna - I'm cumming, please? Please can I cum? Pleaseplease?"

He huffed again. This time his thumb joined on you clit. Flicking up to reprimand the nub together with his now ruthlessly pumping fingers. You keened and limped into him. Legs shaky on designer heels surely messed with your cunt gushing juices.

"Come now darling. Ask, don't beg."

You hiccuped and pressed tighter into him. Tears heavy on your lashes as you squeezed your eyes shut and mouthed on his already damp shirt. "Please - please make me cum? Kento - hngh!"

He circled on a bundle of nerves he knew would loosen the knot. Your pussy throbbed and with one final burst of heat, you bubbled cream all over his palm. He eased you into a slower grind, his thumb circling your clit a few more times before finally halting.

Your face is pulled into his free hand. You found comfort in his palm and whimpered as he brushed your tears away.

"Look at me, sweetheart." When you did, a tender kiss met your glossy lips. "Never want to hear that from you again, alright?"

"Mhhm."

"There's my good girl."

˖ 𑣲 Don't know how to touch me ᝰ.ᐟ✧ G. Satoru

You wouldn't consider yourself a shittalker, but when it came to boys, you were never the type to hold your tongue. If you had a dollar for every asshole with a god-complex you encountered and ten for each one you dated, you'd be able to pay off your student loans. But Satoru's got that covered.

Ah yes, Satoru, who sat beside you with an idle scroll of his phone. His long arm draped over your shoulders as he fell into yet another cat video trap. He was freed from his third-going-onto-forth loop when whatever video you stumbled upon caught his ear.

"Ladies, best believe. The second orgasm is a myth."

His pale brow arched and he sneaked a sideways glance to garner your expression. What's with that look? "Kinda bs, huh sweetheart?" He tested the waters and immediately burned when you shrugged your shoulders.

"Dunno. Guys can barely give one, let alone two."

His smile froze and the sideways look turned into a small stare. The thumb that had paused in its lazy circles on your shoulder started up again. As if trying to coax a correct answer out of you.

"Can't disagree with that. But cut us some credit yeah?"

"Nah, boys can't do shit."

His second brow joined as they both raise further. His smile tightened at the little scowl you present him, as if he represented every male on earth. Satoru knew that look well. It's one you've been testing him with for the past couple of weeks. This was aimed.

Yes, Satoru hadn't made you cum more than once, but not due to lack of skill. You were young, sensitive, one was enough for now. He had to ease you into everything he knew — but there goes that brat again thinking she can take it rough.

"But not me though, right sweet girl?" He hoisted you closer, his shades falling down the bridge of his nose. Blue eyes dimmed to a murky ocean and the pattern of his thumb ran firmer. He was giving you an out —

Yet there you were, smiling sarcastically. "Not sure, Satoru. I think you're just like all these other boys in my phone."

And that's how you wound up eating those words in the form of pitched moans and drool. Back to his chest, legs hooked over his knees that locked them open like a clamp. A strong arm flexed around your middle where he bundled you so easily in his lap. Steeling you still and helpless to the mess you're squirting everywhere.

"Toru - toru!" Your voice quaked brokenly as you chased air like a luxury. Head hung back on him as you pitifully bucked into two fingers fucking another slew of slick from your raw pussy. Swollen and stringy, spraying squirts and cream with every deep plunge to the knuckle.

"So it's 'toru' now sweets? That you or your pussy talkin'?" He was relentless. Would his arm ever get tired? It hasn't lost pace since he shoved into you. It's been three orgasms, going onto a devastating fourth.

Squelches poured when he stuffed them to the knuckle and shallowly stroked on your sweetspot. His fingertips expertly circled the bundle of nerves then come-hithered until you were keening. The arm on your middle shifted and he bunched on your shirt, yanking it up over your tits with a grip that showed off every vein on his strong hand.

"Oh, what's that? You cummin' baby?" Satoru grinned against your ear, pace speeding to something blinding. "Yeah? What number's that?"

"Dunno — hngh!"

Your lips formed a pitiful pout that split with drool when his thumb attacked your clit and a third finger shoved in simultaneously. You squirmed, but he yanked you back with a greedy tit grope. "Yeah you do, don't wanna hear it."

His wrist flicked, the new position brought an even more brutal pace. He angled specifically to exaggerate your pussy's lewd sloshes and squelches. Another sweetspot became his target and you spewed slick all over his palm, coating his silver watch in gloss. That's fine, he'd make you lick it off later.

"Gimme the number, brat." His hiss punctuated with added pressure, your clit's trapped once more. "Or is all you're good for creaming my fingers? Messing my watch up baby. Pretty pussy's not caring one bit huh?"

His chuckle bordered something cruel. Cruel like his fingers that crooked and abused whatever spot he could find. Who cared if your messy juices painted the couch, his sleeve, hell — the floor with your last squirt?

All he cared about were your whining sobs, your pitiful grinds into his hand that was wayyy too big for you and the wet throbs of your pussy.

Slams pistoned on your gummy walls. You squirmed to no avail and choked another sob as you shivered back onto him. "Toru! T-Toru please!"

"How. Many?"

Your jaw's snatched next. Face squeezed between his flexing fingers as he wrung your head to face him. Teary eyed, drooling, looking like his sweet girl rather than that smart lil' brat. His glare earned your whimpers, but he was still grinning. Still pumping his fingers endlessly. Sharply. "Tell me how many times I made this pussy cum, huh? Tell me."

"T-Two - no - nooo," you whined as your wrong answer came with his fingers yanked out, sticky strings connecting to his hand that soon slapped back on your raw pussy. You jolted, whimpered — but it's cut off into a keened moan when he shoved them back in. "Three - three 'toru -!"

"Thaaatt's it. What's it gonna be?"

"Four - oh god!"

You clenched on his fingers and throbbed over his knuckles. Mouth falling open as he shot his other hand to grip your thigh and ruthlessly ground your shaking self down onto his relentless thrusts. He knew all your signs. The moans caught in your throat. The crossed eyes and drooling, spluttered, ah ah ah! as he fucked the brat right out of you.

The knot in your tummy tightened one more time. Your head tossed back. Body clenching altogether as he trapped you in an endless, devastating bliss. You splattered all over his hand with a broken gasp of his name. Stuttering your thighs as if you had any control. Squelching, gushing, until trickles of cream oozed around his still pistoning hand.

"There she is. There's my sweet girl." At last his affection laves over your neck in kisses. Not that his hand ever stopped. He only shallowed again and started curling more cruelly. Holding you down as you struggled around in his grasp with pitiful lil' 's too much' and 'toru pleaassee'.

You're hot. Bothered. Sticky and whiney as you choke on heated air. He slipped his other hand down to pinch and play with your clit. Egging on your whimpered sobs.

"Boys can't do anything, huh sweetheart?" Satoru crooned into your neck, grinning like the devil before he whispered low and rough in your ear.

"Good thing I'm a man, yeah?"

˖ 𑣲 Don't know how to tease me ᝰ.ᐟ✧ G. Suguru

Younger guys never put up much of a fight. Too impatient to deal with your bullshit, too many years ahead of them to fight you on it. Frowns, huffs, the occasional smart comment broke them quicker than they could make you cum on fingers or tongue.

But Suguru? Suguru had patience he wielded in weaponised denial and a handful of years dangling over your head. Acting out with someone nearly twice your age should have been easier.

He should be tired, irritable. Too old to deal with your audacious eye rolls and bratty tongue. In seconds he should have you over his lap, or at the very least his desk. Stuffing you with his fingers, mouth, dick, making you beg for it — putting you in your place.

Only one of those came true over the week you put on your spoilt princess persona and donned your petty crown of attitude. Every snide remark only earned a low a hum, your huffs were returned with his smile, and when you attempted to rile him up with a slutty little skirt and three images to his phone; well, throwing you around was an option only in your imagination, it seemed.

He didn't toss you over the sofa, nor threw you over his shoulder. No, Suguru only smiled. Leaned back into his seat and watched with slithered eyes as you flushed down over his knee.

Your cunt thrummed against your damp panties, hovered over his black jeans with your hands trembled around the same skirt you attempted to drive him wild with. Pretty nails that he paid for clung tight on the fabric, tighter than the line your lips pressed into.

"You really haven't been good to me this week." His sigh came with a calloused thumb tracing down your thigh. You tensed and whimpered. If you gaped at him with those pitifully teary eyes, maybe he'd give in?

"Don't give me that look."

Nevermind. Violet solidified into a patient glare, even with the serene smile he displayed. "Where's my good princess gone? She still in there?"

He drummed atop your cunt and you whined. Wishing he'd go lower - wishing he'd touch you. He only instructed that you lifted your skirt higher and you did so with pouting lips.

"Sugu . . . "

Smack! "Don't wanna hear it right now baby." Your thigh heated under the sting and he withdrew his touch altogether. Greedy, infuriatingly calm eyes roved you entirely before he hummed.

"Tell me what you want."

"You . . ."

"Be specific, brat."

You whimpered when his tone dropped and fiddled with the skirt. You couldn't meet his steady stare. "Wanna. . . wanna grind on your knee. Want you to touch me, please Suguru?"

He breathed deep, another sigh before motioning aimlessly with his hand that laid outstretched together with his arm on the back of the sofa. "Go on then. Grind that pretty pussy down on me. Don't deserve it but, you're lucky you're pretty."

The invisible restraints shattered and you flushed into his knee. Whines broke from your throat as you slowly rocked down on the perch. The angle caught you clit just perfectly but you struggled to maintain it.

Still, you wanted to be good for him. Your throbbing, leaking cunt begged you to. So you reached out for his shirt to stabilise yourself and took up a rocking rhythm. The friction was all you could ask for after a week of denial.

"Hngh - Sugu —"

"There we go," he crooned, that gentle smile returning as he set a hand on your hips. He aided you with small glides, but still let you do all the work. Brats don't get what they want, after all. He leaned his head back onto his fist and drawled deeply. A sharp look returned as he glanced up at you beneath his lashes.

"If you want something, you ask for it. I'm not one of your boytoys."

© 𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 . no copying, translation or plagiarism authorised

[whateveriwant]

Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(

I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.

But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.

So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.

While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.

Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.

It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.

Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.

It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.

His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.

Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.

In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.

The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.

In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.

You'll have to remember for next time.

[hacash]

No, actually I'm not done with talking about Outie Mark and how well they've portrayed his grief on Severance, because the writers have done such a good job of showing that grief can be ugly and aggravating and painful and difficult to watch. Because Outie Mark isn't actually that fun to watch, a lot of the time! He's not soulful and romantic and dealing with his grief in a palatable manner: he's all hard edges and very dark humour! He cries loud and ugly! He picks fights! He's rude to his (admittedly aggravating) brother-in-law; he's a bit of a shit date to Alexa! He's very apathetic about what's going on at work, when quite frankly if he picked up the pace a little, we as the audience could find out more about what's going on! He has genuine substance abuse issues going on and spends a lot of his screentime just lying in a stupor in front of the TV! He's a compelling character but he's not fun to watch!

And I love how they've done this deliberately - I think the fact that at times the writers have been deliberately making Outie Mark deliberately hard to watch, at times because of his awkward humour and at times because he just is trying to avoid doing anything, and that's a deliberate choice because of his grief! The reason he takes so long to get shit done is because this man is literally paralysed by the grief he feels for his dead wife! He is so emotionally disconnected from the world that he spliced his brain clean in two to get away from the pain! He's choking on her ghost! Of course he's not eager to give himself the hope of believing she's alive only to go through that pain all over again!

(Also why the fuck did he of all people have to tell Gemma's students about her dying? Where the hell is that college's HR department.)

And it's not that Outie Mark is an unlikeable character, I'm really enjoying his arc at the moment, but I think they've made some really deliberate tweaks to show just what grief can do to someone and I am loving that they've deliberately made it ugly and painful to see.

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[enhaeil]

BEST YOU EVER HAD ! ☆ 이희승

"ain't this what you came for? don't you wish you came more? girl, what you're playing for? ah, come on..."

tonight (best you ever had) - john legend

c/w: smut, down bad!heeseung x reader, fluff, comedy, drinking, lalalala

—₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

lee heeseung is so used to women falling at his feet. but you? you weren't that simple. and heeseung has tried everything.

smooth texts, warm smiles, and suggestive looks. always finding a reason to be near you. you? unbothered, ignoring him, and going on about your day. when you do flirt, you never let him have too much. you smile, but never fall for his games.

yet every rejection only makes him want you more.

"c'mon, y/n. just one chance. i promise it'll be worth it!" he says chasing after you as you walk to class, hands reaching to carry your backpack, which you allow him to do.

"not interested, heeseung." you don't even spare him a glance as you reject him once again.

you finally reach your classroom and turn around to reach for your bag, locking eyes with heeseung in the process.

"so i'll see you after class?" he says, hands purposely grazing yours as he hands you your bag.

"do i have a choice?" you say sarcastically, making him smile at you.

"not really!" he laughs, but you know he's serious.

"what will it take to make you leave?"

heeseung thinks for a moment as if this was a life-altering question, and to him, it was.

"maybe ... a kiss? i mean, it'll do for now."

a few moments of silence passes as you stare at him, gears in your brain turning. heeseung takes this as an opportunity to slowly lean in, face inching closer to yours.

but right before he gets the kiss he's been yearning for, you back away with a smirk. "nice try, heeseung."

"you're killing me, y/n." he says, holding his chest as if you just shot him.

"i know." and with that, you disappear into your classroom.

heeseung runs his hands through his hair before making his way to his class. god, what do i have to do to earn her?

—✩ ₊˚

the school day ends, and you do see heeseung again. and several times after that. now he's walking you back to your dorm. you didn't ask him to, but he claims you need protection.

"you always walk this slow, or is it just with me?" you ask, as heeseung turns your 3 minute walk into 5.

"maybe i'm trying to drag it out so you'll talk to me more."

"how's that going for you?"

"you wound me, woman. guess i'll have to woo you over with my charm or... persistence."

"well you got the persistence part down."

"is it working?"

you don't try to hide the small smile that forms on your face. he can be funny sometimes.

"anyways, i'm throwing a thing at my place tonight. a little something, just a few drinks, and some music. you should come!" he says, catching up to you.

you stop walking as you raise a brow. "you sure it's not just an excuse to get me in your house?"

heeseung smirks, "that's a plus. but i just wanna see you outside of this hell hole."

you ponder on it a bit, before continuing to walk. "i'll think about it.."

heeseung smiles, bouncing around like a child. "that's all i ask. if you come i promise i'll behave. scouts honor! unless you don't want me to ..."

"bye, heeseung" you say, shoving him off the side walk a bit.

—✩ ₊˚

you finally make it into your dorm, throwing your bag down.

"this guy really thinks he's got it like that.." you think as you kick off your shoes and plop down on your bed.

you stare at your ceiling, thoughts running through your head.

maybe a party won't be so bad ... i'm allowed to have fun..

you walk to your closet, shuffling through the items you have in there before you spot a dress you never got to wear.

wouldn't hurt to go, right?

—��� ₊˚

before you know it, it's time to head out. you're already 30 minutes late which, was completely intentional.

you look at yourself in the mirror one more time, smoothing your dress out. before grabbing your purse and car keys, heading out the door.

as you arrive, you can already hear the music from your car. "a little something" my ass.

you debate about driving back to your dorm, not even knowing why you brought yourself here. you decide to go inside, knocking on the door.

you shiver a bit as the night breeze hits your exposed arms. then the door clicks open, revealing the man who annoys you the most. but for once, he's quiet.

"y/n ... you came." he speaks after a few moments, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

"yeah! i did." the silence is thick as he stares you down from the doorway.

"uh.. can you let me in? it's cold."

he's shaken out of his trance. "oh- oh yeah, come in."

you finally step inside, taking in your surroundings. his house is nice, underneath all the red cups and drunk college students.

"you clean up nice." he looks you up and down. "i mean, not that you don't always look nice— you always look... extremely nice." he stutters, dazed.

"right. where are the drinks?"

he takes you towards the kitchen, where you shuffle through his fridge, looking for something you'd enjoy.

"you know, I didn't think you'd show up." he says, sipping his drink.

you shrug, picking up a bottle and reading the label. strawberry daiquiri ... that's more like it. "guess i was bored."

"nothing better to do than to walk into my party wearing that dress?"

"don't flatter yourself." you say, walking away, heeseung not too far behind you.

your daiquiri wasn't enough to get you drunk, or even tipsy, but enough to make you let loose a bit.

you mingle around, making conversation with a few people you know from your classes. heeseung eventually leaves your side, not that you noticed. but his eyes never left you once.

you feel a hand brush your arm and it's none other than him.

"dance with me" he says, and before you can protest you're already getting dragged to the living room.

it's barely dancing, just swaying and heeseung trying to keep up with you.

"heeseung, you're drunk." you giggle at him, his cheeks flushed.

"yeah? i'm sober enough to know exactly what i want." he pauses, twirling you to the music. "sober enough to know that it's you."

his hand slides to your lower back, as if he was trying to keep you steady.

"you really don't quit do you?" you say, brow raised. "you've probably got a lineup of girls waiting to get in your pants, yet you're worried about what's in mine."

"probably. but i don't want any of them."

you scoff at his cockiness, but entertain him nonetheless.

"this ain't what you want, heeseung. i don't even think you can handle all of this." you reply, still swaying to the beat of the music.

heeseung freezes for a second, blinking once, then twice, before he laughs, quiet and low, looking at you with that same dazed look from earlier.

"let me prove it, then." he says, hands reaching for yours.

"give me one chance ...i promise i'll be the best you ever had."

you stand there, staring at him. his hands are cold, but your body is warm. you want to open your mouth, to say something snarky, to shut him down as always.

but you see it. that look in his eyes. dazed. hungry. like he already knows you inside and out.

maybe it's the music. maybe it's the daiquiri burning in your stomach. maybe you just wanted to give in for once. but you agree, softly.

"okay."

his eyes widened a bit, not expecting you to agree. he plays it off with a smirk, before leading you through the crowd.

he takes you up the stairs, and into his room, door clicking softly behind you.

you look around his room, noticing the action figures and posters on his wall. weird. he's a total geek..

you turn around, seeing he hasn't moved from his spot. heeseung, the man who has been begging for your time for months, hasn't moved an inch.

"you getting cold feet?" you say, smirk evident on your face.

"i don't wanna mess this up." his voice is low, vulnerable, as his eyes flick down to your lips and then back to your eyes.

"have you messed up before?" you say, brows raised.

"they weren't you."

you hold his gaze, smirk faltering for a second, not expecting that response.

"careful. you sound like you might like me." you say, shaking off the thought.

he finally moves from the door, making his way towards you. "i do. always have."

"you can still change your mind." he says, hands itching to touch you.

"you want me to?" there's a short moment of silence between them.

"you know I don't."

heeseung's hands lightly rub against your waist, as if he were trying to memorize your curves. he pulls you against him, whispering in your ear.

"tell me you want this like i do."

your chest rises a little faster now, as his hand rests on your face. not demanding, just there.

"i want this."

heeseung moves slowly, thumb caressing your face as his other hand roams down your body. he presses light kisses against your jaw, as if he's testing to see if you'll stop him.

you don't.

his lips finally meet yours, and it's nothing like you expected. it's patient, and intentional. his mouth works over yours like he's been waiting for this, which he has. yet he takes his time like he's savoring the way you taste.

one of his hands cradles the back of your neck, holding you as if you might pull away. your hands play with the hem of his shirt, and he grins against your lips.

"slow down, baby. i'm not going anywhere." he smirks.

"you've been begging for this. now you have it." you say, neediness evident in your voice.

he walks you backwards until you fall back onto his bed, hovering over you as he kneels between your legs, spreading them gently with both hands.

"i don't wanna just fuck you. i wanna ruin every memory you've ever had of anyone else touching you."

he leans in, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck, leaving trails of heat on your skin, goosebumps appearing on your skin as his teeth graze your collarbone.

his hands are at the end of your dress, lifting it with a soft, questioning look, before you give him permission to continue.

clothes come off piece by piece, as if you were unwrapping each other. he takes his time undressing you, not wanting to ruin this moment by rushing.

once you're bare beneath him, he looks at you. the kind of stare that makes you feel even more vulnerable than you already are. the kind that makes you want to close your legs and cover your chest.

"fuck ... you're perfect."

he kisses his way down your stomach, hands caressing your thighs as he holds them open.

his eyes lock on what he's been craving the most, glistening and waiting for him.

"didn't know a girl I've been getting rejected by for months could get this wet for me." he says chuckling.

you roll your eyes, ready to spew out a comeback. until his thumb finds your clit.

your back immediately arches off the bed, a soft gasp leaving your lips.

heeseung watches you in awe, as he rubs tight circles on your clit. his mouth waters at the sight, desperately wanting to taste you.

his body leans down, face right in front your clit. you can feel his breath fanning against you, before his tongue licks a stripe up your cunt.

heeseung devours you like a starved man, deprived of heaven's water. his tongue is slow and patient at times and rushed and hungry in the next. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking on it, before letting it go with a wet pop.

his fingers find their way inside you, one, then two, as he works you toward an orgasm. his long thick fingers find your spot immediately, as if he already knew your body.

you moan sharply, hand reaching for his arm, as your hips meet his movements.

his lips make their way back to your clit, sucking on it like it was his only source of hydration, his fingers never halting as he brings you closer.

you moan, feeling too good.

"you close, baby?" he says, looking up at you while his tongue still works on your body.

you can barely respond, grabbing his hair and grinding right against his lips. your release comes soon after, juices soaking the bottom half of his face.

he works you through your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers out and bringing them towards his mouth.

"god, how did i go so long without tasting you?" he says, wiping his lips with the back of his hands.

you stare at him, breathless, body still flinching from the aftermath of your orgasm.

"you good? i didn't tear you up that quick did i?" he says smirking.

"how can you be such a douche even after i gave you pussy?" you say rolling your eyes, head flopping back onto the pillow.

he laughs, sliding a condom onto himself.

" wait ... you don't want me to...?" you prop yourself up on your elbows.

"what?" he says, eyebrows furrowing as he pushes you back down.

"you know ... suck your ..." you say, trailing off at the end of sentence.

"considering it's about to be inside you, i think it's okay to say dick, baby." he teases, making you huff.

"but no. you're the prize here. and i wanna earn you." he says, gathering your essence as lube, his head catching your entrance along the way.

"this isn't just sex to me. i want to be the only person who has you this way." his tip, is pressed against you, leaking and ready.

"you still sure about this?" he asks one last time.

you can barely nod before he slides inside of you. your hands fly to his biceps, as he stills. when you look up at him, he looks absolutely wrecked.

mouth open, breathing staggered, sweat dripping down his chest.

after a few moments, he pulls back, almost out, and slams back in, knocking the wind right out of you.

"fuck, heeseung." you moan, back arching as he works inside of you.

he lets out grunts, and groans here and there, but his pace is purposeful, focusing on making you feel good.

"god, y/n you feel like heaven." he says, grabbing your legs, and pressing them against you, new position causing him to hit deeper inside of you.

his name falls off your lips like a prayer, as he continues to fuck into you.

as he feels you tighten up, he pulls out, earning a whine from you.

"sorry baby, but i need you on top of me."

he sits against his headboard, waiting for you. you hover over his lap before taking him in one go, making him throw his head back.

you immediately set a fast pace, alternating between bouncing and grinding against him.

heeseung sounds absolutely pathetic under you, his eyes locked on where you two connect. so he's louder in this position. noted.

his hungry mouth finds its way towards your right nipple, fingers pinching the left.

you let out the sluttiest moan, feeling your orgasm approaching quickly.

his other hand, wanders down to your clit, rubbing fast, sloppy circles against it.

he feels you start to tighten around him, breath hitching and legs shaking against his.

he meets your hips from the bottom, thrusts turning deeper and more deliberate. "i feel it, you're right there, huh?"

"let go for me, yeah? don't hold back."

you moan, clenching tightly around him as your body arches and he groans against your neck.

"there you go, y/n .... that's it baby. you look so pretty cumming around me.." he moans, pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth. his thrusts don't stop, despite your legs giving out, as he fucks you into overstimulation.

you're left a wet, whimpering mess, while he chases his release, stilling deep inside you as he releases into the condom.

he slowly pulls out of you, laying you down carefully on the bed, as he flops beside you, chest still rising and falling.

"you okay?" his whispers, his voice slightly hoarse. "wasn't too much?"

you shake your head, still catching your breath. he looks at you for some moments, having everything he's ever wanted, a mess in his bed right now.

"don't overthink it." he speaks into the silence, already knowing where your mind is going. "you let me see all of you tonight. i'm not going anywhere."

"if i didn't, would you have left?"

"no." he doesn't even let a beat pass. "i'd still want you. still think about you. still be trying to get under your skin in the worst way." he says, letting out a breathy laugh.

"i truly want you y/n. so let me stay this time. really stay."

a/n: uhhhhhhh yeah

tagz. @nithxhoon (wouldn't let me tag u)