#also it's easier to do at work than digging out my laptop

[redjayson]

about to indulge in some truly horrendous posture in order to type up the several hundred words currently locked away in my notebook

[arolesbianism]

We did it boys we got our first game crash in oni 🎉

[kp-studios]

BEL: G.E.-09 Almost Killing Herself From Her Stubbornness

(No, Really I Named It That.)

A dark room of nothing but machinery and the sense of dilapidation around the room. The only machine there, full of other machineries of abandoned, rusted, incomplete, or destroyed machineries that look alike was The Beldam; staring through hundreds of thousands of screens towering before and around her of all shapes and sizes. Staring through phones, laptops, computers, watches, T.V’s, you name it! The Beldam had the Real World at her fingertips, but her expectations on people was not what she’d expect. People would watch as their minds become nothing but a rotten mush of meat, be on it for hours or even days until they die from sleep exhaustion. That was what she expected, thinking it would be much easier to conquer our world with that, but she forgot one thing that makes us stop doing it, one that she never grasped at the idea of when she still had her world: We’d get bored of the thing we love. Sure, we’ll still love it, we’d be on it for hours or days, but eventually we’d get bored of watching the same stuff; always doing the same routine, listening to the same song, and we’ll try to find something else to do. Until.. Somebody was on their phone for hours, this was The Beldam’s chance! She lunged her arm toward the screen, half of it distorting into a green web as the screen begins to flash and form green veins.

Before the screen showed nothing but green, the screen faded to black. The phone was turned off, and gave The Beldam an electric shock like normal. She was upset, of course, but she didn’t retract her arm away from the screen. She tried to do something else that she hadn’t thought of until now, and she dug her arm further into the black void, as it continued to shock and distort her skeletal robotic arm. The Beldam wanted that world more than ever, filling her unending greed for power. She didn’t want to give up, she didn’t want to retreat like an animal would when injured. She kept pushing, as her visor began to glitch. Her voice began to sound more choppier and more distorted; her entire body started to glitch into her green silhouette as she started digging through the screen, almost putting her entire arm in. She’s not losing this chance.. Not like before.. The Beldam kept pushing and pushing, her robotic form at it’s limit, but she didn’t back down. Suddenly, as if by a flash, her entire body glitched so badly that it sent an entire electric shock, shutting of power in the room as she’s left in the dark. The only light source was the green mist, and her glitching self. She finally retracted her arm, which is now spazzing out from the glitches and shocks while melting to a green mist, as she started to cover her mouth to restrain herself from vomiting.

Unfortunately, from her robotic body not taking the pressure too well, succumbed and made a mess on her desk, oily and the same colour as licorice.. But it’s not oil or licorice.. Coughing, and panting from the sudden vomit and pain she felt all over herself, fell to the ground into the thin layer of mist, that was once her victims. “I thought it would work.” The Beldam sighed, her voice now sounding glitchy and choppy. She was a bit startled, What happened to my voice? It sounds.. New. She pauses for a while, as if she’s in deep thought. Hm. Perhaps I went a bit too overboard.. The Beldam thought, realizing her thoughts were also glitchy. She sighs, noticing her body still shaking a bit from the severe amount of electrocutions and the glitching. She’ll have to be more careful next time, she doesn’t want to recreate another machine, she doesn’t have enough parts for it. She looks back at her hand, realizing the severe impact on what she did, and looks around the dark room, groaning. Great, now she has to get the power back on..

Hope you liked the story! Making a reference for Coraline, while redesigning Wybie and figuring out the designs for Ms. Spink and Forcible! Everything's coming together!! So excited!

[comfortlesshurt]

Saw that post about fic-writing-related questions to ask you and so:

1. What's the word that appears most in your current draft?

2. What's your preferred writing font?

3. Where do you get your inspiration? (And is it possible to learn this power?)

4. What's your favourite place to write?

5. Talk about your writing and editing process

6. What's the most interesting topic you've researched for a fic?

7. How do you recharge when you're not feeling creative?

8. Besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

omg yes, thank you!

I just started something last night but it's only 40 words, so I'm gonna jump over to a more substantial WIP to get a better answer for this one. For chapter 6 of the bigger fic I'm working on, the top three are: Keith, Shiro, and time. (Or if you want to exclude names, time, when, and enough!)

I picked Times New Roman 12pt when I was like... 12, and I never abandoned it.

It jumps around! Over the past year, it's honestly mostly been from reading others' fics! (Which is also why I've gotten more fanatic about using the "Inspired By" feature on AO3 recently, because I fully think it's okay to take inspiration from others, but the other person deserves a little boost in reads too!) In the past, I've pretty exclusively relied on other people giving me prompts, but I had to figure out something else when I desperately wanted to write and there was no outside interest.

This one's probably boring, but I can't stand writing on my phone or a laptop, so I exclusively write at my desktop in my living room.

For writing: 1) Get idea (the hardest part). 2) If it's multi-chapter and I know that from the start, I'm not allowed to write anything until there's a basic outline jotted down. 3) The actual writing: Active writing doc on one monitor, outline on the other (if it's a multi-chapter work where I need to keep track of how the current part interacts with other parts), and Spotify in the background! For editing: I'm awful about it. I'm one of those people who edits as I write even though it frustrates me every time. BUT in exchange, the final editing is a lot easier because I've already edited it during every drafting session. I try to do the editing at the start because then it doubles as me reminding myself what I've already written and might give me ideas for what I want to write in the rest of this session. The final editing session after the writing is done is usually just me googling synonyms for the words I think I overused!

Oh man, I'm sure I'm blanking on something more interesting from further in the past, but a recent one has been the actual timeline for Voltron. Like, I always knew it was set in the future, but I never thought about exactly when since the show seems to be intentionally vague, and I had to dig into fan theories to get a good answer to that. Usually if I need to research something, I'll stick to an overview because I will go overboard if I give my brain half a chance, and a brief overview is usually enough to avoid writing anything completely wrong and immersion-ruining.

Ooh, I switch hobbies for a bit! I used to think you can't really call it a hobby if you don't do it almost every day, but that's a silly idea and I've given it up. If I don't feel like writing, I don't write. Usually, I'll get really into reading again during those times, but I might also go back to playing the guitar or drawing. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's fun and it's not writing. I just do that until I feel like writing again. That keeps me from associating writing with being frustrated and upset since I only write when I actively want to.

Oops, kinda went into them above already! But other than those ones, I also obsess over statistics, coding, and general math nerd stuff since those are what I went to college for. There are probably other hobbies, but of course they've all popped out of my head now that I'm trying to think of them!

[vega-d]

in paklet voice "I want to be SMART"

So, you know how sometimes (or more than sometimes) someone in the development process is feeling smart and they try to make a smart piece of software? Well such a case fucked my day over today. And I bet you wanna read about it >:)

It started a couple days ago when I managed to accidentally wipe the passphrase keyslot of my encrypted ssd. No big deal! I said. I can just restore from a backup! I said. So I did. I even restored my /etc/ folder! Which also happened to restore the /etc/defaults/grub.cfg file. That detail will become important later.

note: To be so clear I am transparent, if I wasn't poking around the keyslots without knowing what I am doing, nothing would've break. This entire situation is of my own doing.

After the restore, the bootloader was kind of shotty. Some options worked, others didn't, some didn't even have a valid initrd image. Funky stuff. But I didn't mind it because I happen to have a life and can't delve into every little computer problem I have.

Unfortunately, today after a routine system update, things got FUCKED.

Like FUCKED, kind of fucked. I was almost scared that my system got wiped. So I booted from a live usb, chrooted into it and to my relief everything was still there. Well except, uh, the kernels. Sure, the packages are still there, but I think in my attempts to figure out what is wrong I have completely wiped my /boot partition. and /boot/efi too.

So I went into debugging why the flying fuck did this happen. First I thought dnf wasn't installing something properly, but it was. Then I thought dracut was malforming it's init script. And then I thought some more. And more. Because dracut just so happens to be a piece of software written fully in bash and it's just one huge monolithic... i don't have a good noun for this. Rest assured I was swearing a lot while digging through it.

I got to a point of being able to put the kernels in the /boot partition again (easier done than said, just had to wait for a bit so it reinstalls them). It was still not working though. Even though initrd was not able to start and I was getting into a minimal linux booting environment. For whatever reason it was missing cryptsetup utility, but that's an easy-ish fix.

The real head scratcher came when I was able to unlock the partition manually and boot into it, but the dracut automation was still failing. Wow I was clueless. I almost ended up ditching systemd out of initrd just to neuter a bunch of said automation and define shit myself.

In the end it turned out that LACK of automation was actually preventing my laptop from booting properly. The fedora installer was smart and put the UUID of the partition into the kernel cmdline arguments. So like, when you boot up your system you only have to unlock the partition which actually matters for the booting process, not every possible encrypted partition/drive you may have connected to the computer. And yes, it was the old UUID from before, which was different from the new UUID. This entire time, dracut was trying to decrypt a partition that just plain doesn't fucking exist anymore.

the fix, the entire time, was just to let the automation unlock all encrypted drives (which I have one anyways so?).

So that's how my day went babez, how bout you?

[and-claudias-world]

Severe Weather Go Bag Packing List

Hi friends!! I wanted to make this post to hopefully help others prepare for severe weather events.

If you live in the United States you may know that Tornado Season is coming up soon (it technically begins in April) but as seen in recent weeks, severe storms and tornadoes can happen outside of Tornado Season. This post is going to be about packing a go bag for severe weather.

A go bag is a bag (usually a backpack) that you pack BEFORE (read that again) a storm is predicted to hit your area. It has a few necessities you made need in the event that you are displaced for a couple of days. If your shelter is in side of your home you can go ahead and put it in your shelter once it’s packed so you don’t have to worry about grabbing it. If your shelter is outside of your home (like an underground storm cellar or you have to drive to your local storm shelter) you can either put the bag out in your shelter, by your front/back door or in the car to make it easier. I will also make a separate post about what to wear during a severe weather event and will like it HERE.

So first what bag should you get?

I personally just have a waterproof backpack I got from Amazon for like $15. I do not recommend using your school bag, but if that is the only option then as soon as you can empty it to prepare for the Storm. As I said you want this to be packed before the storm hits.

What to pack:

Small flashlight (if power goes out you’ll need light, or if power lines are down and it’s night time this will help as well, you don’t want to be waiting phone battery) Walmart has a good one that’s less than $2 near the camping equipment

Any important physical documents you have that are NOT saved digitally. You don’t want a ton of paper in your go bag but if you have certain documents that you NEED and do not have saved, try having a folder for them and put that in the bag. (I personally have a small one for my dog’s papers work as he is in the process of becoming an ESA and I can’t lose these papers)

Battery pack and wall charger. Chances are power will go out but if it doesn’t and you need to charge you phone it’s nice to have the option to plug into the wall. So try to have a battery back, cord and block for charging your phone. CHARGE THE BANK BEFORE THE STORM ARRIVES!!!

I personally drop my laptop into my bag as well just so I don’t loose it. It has all my info on it so I’d like to keep it safe.

A change of clothes. You may be displaced so having a change of clothes is always nice to have, at the very least drop a pair or two of underwear in your bag so you can at least change those if you are unable to get home. And when it comes to the type of clothes you bring, BRING PANTS!! It may be middle of summer but if you’re having to walk/dig through debris you do NOT want to be in shorts.

Water bottle. Either a plastic or refillable one. Make sure it has water in it before the storm.

Food, I personally just drop a few snacks that are filling (like granola bars) in my bag.

Comfort item. I personally have Storm anxiety. It’s normal. Hell I’m going into Meteorology and have storm anxiety. It’s okay to put a comfort item in your go bag. I have my teddy bear from when I was little in mine.

A beach towel. Don’t grab the thickest one you have. Just a thin one that doesn’t take up too much room will do just fine. In the event that you have to run out in the rain to get to your shelter, it’s nice to have one to dry you (or your dog off)

Medications. Any medication that you need (or anyone in your care) may need. You don’t want to be without it if something happens to your home.

I may add to this as I will be packing my bag tomorrow for some up coming storms. I hope this helps anyone who may see it 🖤

[skaikruswan]

I walk beside you - Chapter 5

Summary: “I have not heard these words in ages,” a deep, male voice says, and before you can answer, you wake up.Your dreams start changing once you realize that you’re not alone as you think. Who is this man and why does he know you? How do you know him?

Pairing: Dream / Morpheus x reader

Notes:  reincarnation, past lives, flashbacks, fluff and mystery 

Chapter 1       Chapter 2    Chapter 3       Chapter 4

My other fics / prompts

Ao3: Sweet dreams for everyone who leaves a kudo or a comment.

You’re surprised that after all the action in your dreams, you still wake up well-rested and with enough energy to handle your day without breaking a sweat. You’ve even managed to shop for groceries. You guess that this is one of the many perks of knowing the King of dreams.

You skip over a puddle, giggling like a small child. This day has started well, and it will surely end well, with another dream with Morpheus. You learned a lot last night and you hope to continue exploring. The library seems to hold a lot of memories, in every sense of the word. There is a book about you. How much does Morpheus know about you? How similar or different are you compared to your incarnations? Ugh. These thoughts are poison, and you must stop.

You return home and do your laundry, watch an episode of your favorite show, and enjoy the rest of the day. Your mind is still busy, thoughts turning and spinning, and you relent.

While you can’t find out anything about past-you, you can research Morpheus. Since he knows so much about you and your previous incarnations, it only seems right that you get to know him better, right?

You reach for your laptop and start to research, recalling the names Morpheus had listed when he revealed that he wasn’t a god, but Dream of the Endless. Shivers run down your spine as you recall that moment.

You research the first one, Kaikul, and at first, you find nothing. You let out a frustrated groan start digging. It seems that the name is first referenced in an African myth, passed orally from generation to generation. It had almost been lost to oblivion, and you are truly grateful for that site that seems to collect oral traditions and tales.

Nada, the young queen of the city where humanity began, had fallen in love with a supernatural being she called Kaikul, although it had been forbidden. Their romance ended in tragedy when the city was burned to ashes and Nada ended her life.

You swallow thickly, hoping that Nada hadn’t been an incarnation. Moreover, you can’t help but wonder if there’s more to the story. Why was the romance forbidden? How did Morpheus react to her death?

You take a sip from your mug and continue your research.

Oneiros, fortunately, is easier than Kaikul. It confuses you a little since it’s also from Greek Mythology. Morpheus is the Greek god associated with dreams and sleep, while Oneiros are personified dreams sent by the gods to intervene on their behalf. Greek mythology can be confusing, so you just accept it and move on.

Tutu is the Egyptian god, a chimera-like creature guarding the sleeping humans from danger and bad dreams. This seems a little weirder than the others, but then again, there are more than Egyptian 1500 deities.

Your fingers itch to hit the keyboard again, to find out more about are deities associated with sleep or dream, but you decide that this enough, at least for now.

You finish your remaining work, call your best friend to catch up, do a little workout and go to bed. While Morpheus is almost compellingly intriguing, you’ve vowed to yourself that you would never neglect you “real” life, that your dreams wouldn’t become more important than your waking life. You want to have balance.

You close your eyes and fall asleep quickly.

         -------------------------------------

You find yourself back in the library, once again marveling at the countless rows of bookshelves. Your footsteps only creak faintly over the polished wooden floor as walk through the aisle.

“Hello?” you call out, expecting an answer. Somehow, you don’t get one, and you look around. Where are Lucienne and Morpheus?

From the corner of your eye, you see something shimmering. A golden ball of light floats towards you, and you take a few hesitative steps towards it. Maybe it is some sort of guide?

The light floats away from you, as if it’s expecting you to follow it, and you do, preferring the light to loneliness. It keeps a steady pace, staying at the edge of your reach, making you almost chase it through the maze of bookshelves. You couldn’t find your way back to your starting point even if you tried.

You wish the light would stop for a moment. Is it even helping you? You check your surroundings and realize that you seem to have entered an older section of the library. The bookshelves are still in pristine condition, but the books and tomes are worn and brittle with age, their inscriptions in languages you don’t understand. The few windows that allow light to enter are small and close to the ceiling, out of your reach.

“Hello? Anybody there?” you call out again, panic making your voice crack. Fear seems to wrap around your ribcage, making it hard to breathe. The light seems to mock you, floating back and forth, taunting you to follow it.

You take a deep breath. This is Morpheus’ realm, and you like to believe that there is nothing here that would seriously harm you. This is your dream, and if you must, you will end it, wake up, watch some cute animal videos, and then go back to sleep.

Just as you’re about to figure out how exactly you can end a dream, you hear some faint humming and you grin, abandoning the light and running towards the noise.

The humming gets louder, and you turn left, seeing the back of a figure, wearing a white shirt and an apron. The head is weird, and what’s that brown thing on their shoulders?

You press your hand on your thundering chest, clearing your throat at the still humming figure.

The figure turns around, and you’re face to face with a pumpkin head. You let out a long scream.

“I can’t believe that you’re back and the first thing you do is scream at me!” the talking pumpkin head – Merv – complains, while you bury your face in your hands.

After your, let’s call it, improper reaction, Morpheus had appeared, and you had impulsively reached for his hands. He gently guided you and the talking pumpkin back towards the heart of the library, still holding your hand, which you really appreciated.

You’re sitting in a comfortable leather armchair, trying to calm down. This may be the dream world, but chasing an eerie light through an endless library, only to meet a talking pumpkin head, can frighten a person.  

“I am sorry,” you say sincerely, giving Merv an apologetic smile. “But you have to admit, a talking pumpkin is weird!”

“Your apologies have been better,” Merv replies drily, giving you his equivalent of a scowl. You blink owlishly, realizing that you’ve found another person who seems to have known past-you.

“Well tell me, how often did I scream when I first met you?” you ask, leaning forward with newfound curiosity.

“A few times, but that’s still nothing compared to the one time you saw me, dreamed up a lantern, and threw it at me! You wanted to set fire to me, in the middle of a library!” Merv recounts, shaking his head in disbelief, and you press your lips together, feeling hot guilt curse through you. What the hell, past-you?

You glance at Morpheus, who has been silent so far, simply listening to the conversation. How often has he been witness to you meeting Merv? Is he comparing this to your previous incarnations?

“I promise that I won’t try to burn you,” you swear solemnly, giving him a real smile this time. You extend your hand and Merv reaches out with his gloved one, shaking it.

“I think it best if we return to the confines of your dream. I have something to show you,” Morpheus announces, looking at you, a flash of anticipation in his eyes, and you give him an eager nod, jumping up from the armchair.

You say goodbye to Merv, who gives you a clap on the back before walking away, and you give Morpheus an expectant look.

       ---------------------------

One blink later and you find yourself back inside your own dream. It’s hard to explain it, but it almost feels like home. This is your tiny realm; this is where you usually spend your dreams, your beach and your forest.  

“I thought it best to show you how to feel yourself more at ease inside the Dreaming, to help you manipulate your surroundings,” Morpheus explains, and you feel the heaviness of his full attention on you.

“The Dreaming?” you ask. Lucienne has called herself the librarian of the Dreaming if you remember correctly.

“This realm,” Morpheus clarifies, and fondness warms his words. “You’ve always been apt at controlling your dreams, changing yourself and your surroundings with a skill and ease only a few humans possess, especially in this time and age.” You feel your cheeks flush after his compliment, while your competitive spirit is stirred awake.

“Try to manipulate yourself or your surroundings,” Morpheus suggests, raising his eyebrow in a silent challenge.  

One second later, he’s gone, replaced by a beautiful black cat with golden eyes. You can’t help but let out a gasp, immediately kneeling to push your fingers through the soft fur. Your mind catches up and you freeze, remembering that this is still Morpheus, your hand hovering over the ears.

The king of dreams doesn’t seem to mind, pushing his head against your palm and you scratch him under his chin.

“I am waiting.” Morpheus’ voice rings clear inside your mind, and you remember the purpose.

You close your eyes and imagine yourself to be a cat too, your paws digging into the soft ground, your sharp eyes fixed on the sun sinking beneath the waves, the salty breeze ruffling your fur.

You open your eyes and find yourself almost at eye level with the black cat. As a cat yourself, you realize how big Morpheus is, and you have to look up to stare into his golden eyes. Unlike with the golden light, you can’t imagine yourself becoming annoyed or afraid.

“Well done,” Morpheus praises, rubbing his head against yours in an unexpected but very welcomed show of affection, making your little heart pick up a pace. “I do believe you can do better.”

“Challenge accepted.” This dream has just become a game, one you intend to win. All you have is your imagination, your wit, and your competitive spirit.

“I am a mouse, sitting inside my burrow, safe and secure from any danger,” you announce, your voice sounding cheeky even to you.

The world around your changes, you become smaller, and you find yourself underground, lying on a bed of moss. Far up, you see a cat staring down at you, his tail swishing from left to right. Choosing a mouse may not have been your wisest choice, especially with Morpheus being a cat, but he can’t reach you, and you’re safe.

“I am a serpent, lithe body and poisoned bite, slithering into the burrow,” Morpheus replies, his voice low, and you let out a squeak when you see a black snake enter your home, golden eyes gleaming and baring long fangs. No can do, you think to yourself.

“I am a dove, soaring through the sky, feeling the wind ruffling my feathers as I fly over forests, cities, and mountains,” you counter, and air replaces ground as your home, with you feeling free and safe. The forest and Morpheus are but a smidge of green as you fly higher.

“I am a hawk, keen eyes and strong wings, finding prey inside my realm.” Morpheus’ voice comes from above and you have only a second to evade before a black bird of prey barrels into you. You fly away, his heavy wings following you wherever you flee, as you fail to find a hiding spot.

You have to get more creative, or else Morpheus is going to catch you sooner than later. This little game manages to find the balance between terrific and terrifying, with Morpheus’ strategy being to simply counter you by being a predator.

“I am a mermaid, living deep in the ocean, exploring sunken ships and fearing no animal in the sea,” you state, and the setting changes anew.

The kelp forest is blocking almost all the sun, with the seaweed rolling with the movements of the water. Your colorful fishtail allows you to gracefully move through the sea, and you breathe water as you breathe air. This is a wonderful dream, and you must return next time you think as your hands touch a beautiful coral.

Counter this, oh King of dreams, you think to yourself, mindful not to say that thought out loud.

“I am Leviathan, the great sea serpent, the whisper of the waves.” Morpheus’ voice seems to come from beneath the sea floor, and cracks begin to open the crust as whatever Morpheus’ form seems to be rises from the ground. You don’t even want to know. Damnit!

“I am royalty, sitting inside my palace, warriors and mages doing all they can to protect me!”

A crown adorns your head, and you only wear the finest garments, sitting on a throne and listening to the people under your care as they seek your advice. The fantasy route promises better results, and you feel a little better as you see the countless uniformed men and women wielding swords and wands, guarding every entrance.

“I am a dragon, my scales impenetrable, my breath scorching, collecting royalty as I collect treasure.” Your scream joins those of your subjects as a black dragon just tears off a portion of your palace’s roof, talons digging into wood and stone.

Agape, you look at the creature, monstrous and wonderful at the same time. Blue slits seem to zero in on you, erasing every thought you have.

The dragon opens his mouth and fangs longer than your arm make your knees buckle. Scales shining like onyx make your finger twitch to touch them and discover what they feel like.

How are you supposed to counter a dragon? Your guards seem to be useless against Morpheus, their spells having no effect and their swords not making a scratch on his scales.

This time, Morpheus changes the setting, and you find yourself on top of a huge mountain of gold and jewelry, a dragon’s lair.

The dragon in question is lying down, his huge form almost curled around you. You don’t find the words to express how small you are compared to him. Escape is futile, but you don’t want to give up. Time for a new tactic.

“I am a royalty, taming the dragon with a simple tale and a kind touch,” you say, foregoing reason as you put your hand on what seems to be his cheek, feeling the sleek texture of the scales. You really hope that you don’t end up as dragon snack.

The dream changes again, and you’re back as you, but with your hand still cradling Morpheus’ cheek. No dragon can compare to the thrill you feel as your fingertips dance over his smooth skin. You’re screaming internally.

“Well played,” Morpheus says, inclining his head. He’s wonderfully close, and you wonder if he hears your heart race.

“You pulled no punches,” you protest with a smile, and Morpheus smirks, the jaw under your hand moving.

“I knew you could keep up.” Holding onto your hand, Morpheus reaches into the pocket of his black coat with his other hand and drops a beautiful necklace on your palm.

You gently lift it up: on a delicate golden chain hangs a tear-shaped ruby pendant.

“This is lovely,” you whisper as you give him back the necklace and turn your back at him, a silent invitation for help.

Morpheus complies immediately, his fingers brushing away your hair as he closes the clasp of the necklace. His presence sooths and thrills you at the same time.

“This necklace will alert me to your presence inside your Dreaming,” Morpheus explains, his lips dangerously close to your ears, and your shoulders sag with relief. No more getting lost, you hope.

The world around you shakes, becoming blurry for a second, and you want to groan. Again? Why do the dreams seem to pass by in a flash?

You wake up before you can say goodbye. With all the excitement, you’ve totally forgotten to mention the golden light to Morpheus, but then again, it is most likely irrelevant after all. Maybe you’ve even summoned it, your subconscious needing an impulse to explore the library on your own.

Nothing to worry about.  

[bokutoslittlebird]

miya twins and their 19 year old virgin little sister, samu probably caught you trying to fuck yourself and let your dildo be your first since a lot of your friends are teasing you for being a virgin and then atsumu caught you red handed, watching porn. and what would happen if one of them got you preggo? too horny to even think about anything, sorry birdie-san ㅠㅡㅠ

DIVINE. DELICIOUS. you know that audio with the cats? That was me when I read this

Warnings : pregnancy, cunnilingus, f. masturbation, porn video (briefly), a pink dildo, dubcon, incest, manipulation

It’s your nineteenth birthday and while you had a wonderful party with your family, you still feel so young and small. Your brothers are both attending colleges for their own career paths, but you’ve just got out of high school and have no idea what you want to do! You’ve been babied by your brothers, so you don’t have a clear view of the future for yourself that doesn’t include Atsumu and Osamu by your side.

One thing bothered you though: you were still a virgin. Thanks to your brothers, boyfriends were a foreign concept to you. All your friends lost their virginities before their birthdays, but your last friend lost her virginity on her birthday, a present from her boyfriend. You were slow to coming to the party and you told them you’d have lost it by the time your birthday came around, even getting a boyfriend!

A boyfriend quickly discarded by the brooding brothers of yours. A sneer from Atsumu and a glare from Osamu had his tail between his legs. Truly, a shame. You knew your friends would tease you again for the lack of a boy in your life, so you decided to, uh, pretend. A dildo was similar to a penis, right? That’s why they existed.

You didn’t know it’d be so hard! You have to have an orgasm to properly lose your virginity, that’s what your friends said. Pumping the silicone piece into your tiny cunt was harder than expected, only fitting half in before you started to pump it. It sent a tingling down in your tummy, but it was more effort than expected. Noises or frustration mingled with your forced moans, whining as your wrists started to hurt.

Osamu was doing his homework when he heard you make a noise of frustration, huffing and puffing. He didn’t pay too much attention to it, but then you made a similar noise. So, time to investigate. He wouldn’t want you to exert so much energy, you’re his baby sister! He expected to see you trying to get something off a high shelf, your shirt riding up to show your smooth stomach or you to be under your bed, shorts-clad— even better, panty-clad rump in the air. He did not expect to see you on your bed, legs spread and pumping a pink silicone dildo into your cunt. If only that was his—

“‘Tsu- ‘Tsumu,” you moan out, biting on your lower lip. Osamu’s mouth drops into a frown, growling at his twin’s name dropping from your mouth. You turn to look at the door, suddenly opened only to be slammed shut.

A startled gasp makes him stop in front of you, eyes burning with an unknown desire. “‘Samu! What’re you doing?” He just looks at you, eyes glancing at your hand still between your legs. Your eyes go down, shame burning in your face. “I’m trying to be a big girl. I wanna lose my virginity,”

“Why didn’t ya ask me?” He asks, putting his weight on your bed. You panic and close your legs, moving the dildo out of you. “And why ya callin’ out ‘Tsumu’s name? Huh? Am I not good enough?”

“N-No! That’s not it! ‘Samu, you’re scaring me!” You cry out, his large hands spreading your legs. Your puffy pussy is fully on display for him, his eyes noticing the lack of slick. “Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m gonna help. Wanna be a big girl? I can help,” he says. He doesn’t move, though, waiting for your permission. Even though you’re hesitant — he’s your brother! You’re nodding your head, fingers soon finding themselves in Osamu’s darkened hair. He stopped dying it, so it’s completely natural again. His face is buried in your cunt, lapping at your folds as your moans aren’t forced, head thrown back as Osamu tongue fucks you. When he sticks two fingers into you, he doesn’t expect you to be so wet, a drastic difference from moments ago. He moves to wrap his lips around your clit, walls tightening as you finally release on his fingers and face.

When Osamu comes up, he’s licking his lips while you pant. “Did.. did I lose my virginity?” You ask him, tears clinging to your lashes.

“What d’ya mean?” You explain what your friends told you, all while he strips off his shirt and peppers kisses on your stomach, rising your shirt up as he does. “Nah, I gotta cum inside if you wanna lose it. You gonna let me do that?” The no hesitation in the nodding of your head has him grinning, straightening himself as he rubs his hardened cock through his pants. Today, fantasy becomes reality. “Alright, I’ll go slow,”

Even with his slow sinking into you, you’re gasping and clinging to his biceps for dear life, tears staining your pillow as he splits you open. He’s far bigger than the dildo, but the slick from your orgasm makes it much easier for him to slide in. He kisses your cheek, telling you how good you are. It’s the little praise that has you encouraging him to keep going, and he does. He keeps pushing in until he’s bumping against your cervix, almost completely inside of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him locked against you.

“Don’t worry, lil sis. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he shushes, brushing your tears as he stays still. An occasional hiccup has his heart hurting, but he knows you’ll feel good eventually. Well, even if you don’t, he’ll start. When your legs loosen, dropping back to the plush bed, he starts moving. He’s still slow, spreading your walls for his thick cock as you continue to adjust. It’s not until you’re begging him for more does he pick up the pace, slamming his hips against yours. He has to cover your mouth so you don’t alert the whole house he’s fucking you, your screams of pleasure coming out. They’re muffled, but he can hear how much you’re enjoying it. It urges him to go even faster, grunting as he chases his own high.

Another screams rips from you, walls tightening as you cream on his fat cock, eyes rolling as toes curl. It’s enough to send Osamu over the edge, groaning as he buries himself even deeper inside, pumping you full of his cum, you milking every drop. He kisses you, your panting mouth perfect for him to give you a passionate kiss, staying deep inside you. He breaks the kiss, “I love ya, little sis,”

“Love you, too, nii-san,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s all you ever wanted, to be a big girl. It also brings you and Osamu closer together, you often bouncing around the idea to help him in his shop once he gets it set up. When you go into his room, the door locking behind you, you miss the way Atsumu glares. He has a feeling you’re not studying with Osamu, but there’s nothing to suggest otherwise.

Well, when Osamu is late from coming back from college, Atsumu is the only one home. It’s a small breath of fresh air, relaxing his tired muscles after a long practice match. When he hears small grunts and moans from your bedroom, he goes to investigate. You shouldn’t be home, let alone have anyone with you. The creaking of the floorboards doesn’t stop the noises from your room, Atsumu’s curiosity spiking. Peeking into your open door, he sees you on your back, legs spread open as your laptop plays an obscene video, the moans and grunts coming from the speakers. Your occasional moan is muffled by the shirt hem in your mouth, but it’s dropped when you moan out Osamu’s name, eyes rolling back as your fingers work on your clit.

Atsumu glares at the mention of Osamu’s name, shutting the door that has you jumping and struggling to explain yourself. “Ya think ‘Samu’s better than me? Is that it?” They’re so similar, it’s striking. The hungry eyes, full of anger and lust, they look so much like Osamu’s, but the light blond hair reminds you it’s Atsumu. “What’re you- Yer watchin’ sibling porn? Thinking of your big brother? ‘S that it?”

“No, it’s not what you think, ‘Tsumu!” Unlike Osamu, Atsumu’s one to take what he wants. He moves the laptop off the bed, spreading your legs as you squirm and struggle. “Lemme go!”

“Brats like you need to be put in place, don’t’cha know? You’re fucking soaked, getting off on your big bro that much?” You’re crying and still trying to kick him off, but it just turns him on even more. You’re still innocent and so naive in his eyes, it’s nothing for him to just take that from you. His cock is already hard, begging to sink into your warm depths. “You gonna let me fuck you? It’ll be like that video you were watching,”

You’re shaking your head, pushing at his chest as he leans down to press kisses to your neck. “C’mon, lil sis. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You trust me, right?” It’s a question that has your movements stopping, glossy eyes looking at Atsumu. He’s smiling, your big brother not showing any hint of malice. You sniffle, his thumbs swiping away the silver droplets on your cheeks.

“As long as you promise not to hurt me, okay ‘Tsumu?” You ask him, big doe eyes of innocence as you look at him. He grins and kisses your lips, licking your bottom lip. A whispered breath of ‘wouldn’t dream of it’ is all you hear before his mushroom head is pushing at your entrance. He’s just as big as Osamu, but it’s still hard to take in. You’re nice and slick, though, Atsumu notes. All from watching some incest porn, it’s almost funny to him how all you had to do was ask, no reason to hide it! Him and Osamu have been dreaming of keeping you all to themselves, there’s no reason for you to hide your desires.

Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t let you adjust, immediately pulling out to thrust back in. It’s sharp and rough, knocking the air from your lungs as your head gets thrown back. Atsumu’s quick to attach his lips to your neck, sucking the flesh and digging his teeth into the skin. It’s a way to show he’s claimed you, as if he doesn’t plan on coming inside. That’s his goal — mark you inside and out. With your arms above your head, grasping the pillows, there’s no reason for him to not. Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit and flicks it, sending shockwaves through you as you scream and cream around his cock, thighs tightening around him. He’s not too far behind you, rutting against you as he paints your insides white, sending you into another orgasm, juices spraying against his abdomen.

“Lookie there! You just squirted all over me,” he chuckles, rubbing your shaking thighs. You’re overstimulated, so he doesn’t push another round. There’ll be time for that later.

A week later, you find yourself in a dilemma when your clothes won’t fit. Worried about gaining weight, you confide in your big brothers who give you a test. “Just pee on it. It’ll tell you if you’re overeating,” they said. They’ve never lied to you before! When those two lines pop up on the plastic tool, you show it to them, confused. They tell you you’re pregnant, but then comes the question. Who’s the dad? Really, does it matter? They have a lot of love to give you and they’re twins. Your child is gonna look like both of them no matter what.

[moririki]

⤷ PUSHING THE LIMITS

TSUKISHIMA KEI X READER -> 2.7K
you decide to see how far you can push your boyfriend before he snaps

REQUEST -> ✰
CONTAINS -> SMUT!!!!!, bratty reader i GUESS, uhm my second smut ever so quality won't be amazing, fingering, oral (giving), unprotected sex, , tsukki teasing you <3, but hes also soft at the end brrr
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> WOOOWOOOO 100 FOLLOWERS EVENT IS A GO!!! sry about the quality dipping halfway through i did not write this in one sitting ✌️

YOU KNEW THAT YOU WERE COMING OVER TO YOUR BOYFRIEND'S DORM TO STUDY, but when he greeted you with a searing kiss that was enough to have you trying to catch your breath, you realised that he may or may not be wanting to play dirty. he had a history project, you had an essay to finish, the two of you were fairly busy. luckily working together in a comfortable silence worked surprisingly well for the both of you. most of the time, anyway.

but you were still reeling from his kiss and your thoughts were straying far from the subject material needed to finish your paper. only ten minutes in to your study session, you were ready to call it a night and spend some quality time with tsukishima. currently, the two of you were lying side by side on his bed, trying not to slip off the edge due to how narrow it was. while your pen had stilled on its page, tsukishima was rapidly typing away on his laptop with slightly furrowed brows.

even with his facial features scrunched up, you still found yourself admiring your boyfriend's face as he concentrated on his project. the reflection of the laptop on his glasses only added to the look, and you almost found yourself sighing dreamily at how handsome he looked.

"quit staring, idiot," tsukishima mumbled without glancing up from his work. when you didn't make a single movement to follow his suggestion, his eyes flicked towards you with an unimpressed expression adorning his face. he raised a hand from the jeyboard to flick your forehead lightly, just enough to make you huff and return to your notebook. though yiu already had gotten the structure and general points already planned out, the actual construction of your essay was yet to happen. instead, you twirled your pen before raising it to your lips. you bit your lip in mock thought on just how to start writing your essay, though a more satisfying result occured when you heard a sharp intake of breath from beside you.

you tried not to look too smug as you turned to look at your boyfriend in amusement.

"look who's staring now, kei," you smiled up at him and he glowered at you.

"bite your lip once more, i dare you." you only giggled at his threat, seeing as he was playing directly into your hand.

but now you had to play a waiting game, so you went back to your essay. you even managed to complete an opening paragraph before deciding to ramp things up a notch.

you faked a yawn, arching your back as you stretched before rolling over, closer to tsukishima. you ended up on your back, practically underneath him, with his golden eyes watching you carefully. they remained trained on your face as you batted your eyelashes at him, before trailing down to your mouth again as you oh-so-carefully tugged your bottom lip between your teeth.

you barely had time to blink before you found yourself really lying underneath him, one of his hands resting against your face, his thumb coaxing your bottom lip back out from your teeth. the other had collected your hands, pinning them above your head by the wrist with ease.

"i thought i told you not to do that again, hm?" despite his tone, kei's eyes had some glint of mischief in them, enough to make you squirm under his grasp.

"oops." the way the smile never dropped from your face did little to convince kei that you were sincere, but he knew you were looking for some sort of reaction when you held his gaze as you parted your lips, softly biting the tip of his thumb.

you watched the way his eyes darkened from above and his grip on your wrists tightened. kei surged forwards, pressing his lips to yours roughly and you grinned as you kissed him back with as much vigour. the hand that had been on your jaw now travelled downwards before reaching your bare thigh.

kei gripped it harshly, hiking it up roughly to latch around his waist. you hummed into the kiss at the sensation, digging your heel into his back to feel some friction from his crotch rubbing against your thigh. kei groaned at the sensation, breaking the kiss to glare at you.

"you're such a brat."

"yeah, but you love me." you grinned up at him, face flushed and body practically buzzing from his touch.

kei muttered a "whatever" before kissing you again, harder than before. his hips rolled against yours, making your breath hitch in your throat. you tried to free your wrists to wrap your arms around his shoulders, anything to get him closer to you, but it was futile. kei snickered at your attempt to overpower him, though he had some mercy when he pulled away again to slip off your shorts with his free hand. you clamped your thighs together when you were left in just your underwear and under the scrutiny of your boyfriend.

"don't go shy on me now, pretty," kei teased you, rubbing soft circles into the plush of your thighs with his thumb. you flustered at the pet name, but let him part your legs and hook a finger along the waistband of your panties and drag them down your legs ever so slowly.

the cold air of the room made you clench slightly, but kei blowing on your pussy made you gasp and squirm in his hold. kei smirked at your reaction, trailing a single pretty finger of his around your entrance, humming at how wet you already were.

"you're really making my job a lot easier, pretty," he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he slowly slipped a single finger inside you. you sucked in a shaky breath as he curled it inside you, feeling him reach the spongy spot which had you tensing and moaning softly.

his palm rested against your clit, the slight roughness of it proving to be enough stimulation. you found your hips raising, desperate for more friction, but kei's hand stilled as you whined from underneath him.

"come on, what happened to being patient?" he teased. you managed to glare back at him, before kei dipped his head again and decorated the column of your neck with deliberate kisses that had your head tilted back with pleasure. kei's finger started moving again, leaving your body blistering with sensations that were quickly building up to your release.

kei soon added another finger, with you moaning at the additional stretch. he scissored them inside you, stretching your walls out and leaving your toes curling. with his lips never stopping from administering hickeys all across your collarbones, you felt the heady buzz of an orgasm start to wash over you. you felt your lower stomach tighten in anticipation, only for it all to be ripped away from you at the last minute as kei removed his fingers from your hole, now sopping wet with your slick.

"what do you say that we put your mouth to good use, huh?" you could only nod at tsukishima's suggestion as your chest rose and fell rapidly, head still spinning from being taken so close to the edge. you just about registered tsukishima raising his hand and bringing his souled fingers to your mouth.

without a single word from him, your lips parted and you welcomed his two fingers into your mouth, sucking on them softly to clean them and tasting yourself on him. kei groaned at how compliant you were, pulling his fingers free before connecting your lips with his once again. he could taste the faintest trace of you on your tongue, and this dragged a soft moan from him that went through you like a shock if electricity.

with that, tsukishima finally released your wrists, leaning back before getting off of the bed. he grabbed hold of your ankles, dragging you until you were seated at the edge of the bed right in front of him, staring up at him expectantly with your heartbeat running wild. kei almost cooed at the lovestruck expression in your eyes, but he chose to lean back, eyes appraising your figure in a leisurely manner.

"strip for me." you almost took a double take at his words, though the tone showed just hiw serious he was being. his eyes were hungry as they zeroed in on your fingers curling around the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head fluidly so that your top half matched your bottom. "aww, aren't you eager," kei crooned, his hand cradling your face. if you weren't blushing profusely from his remark you might have asked him about his own flushed cheeks.

instead, you diverted your attention to his own shirt, tugging at it softly to prompt him to do the same as you had seconds ago. kei caught on quickly, tugging the material over his head along with your help, your hands smoothing over his toned skin as soon as it was revealed. with your wrists finally freed, you could touch him just as much as you wanted, and you did. your fingers trailed down his sides and back up again, tracing patterns into his skin. you decoded to be brave, hooking your fingers into his waistband and pulling his body closer to you, to which kei gladly complied.

then your mouth was on him, leaving open mouthed kisses that trailed dangerously lower down his v-line. you came back up, making sure to suck a hickey into the skin just above his hip where a rare mole rested. you heard another shaky intake of breath from your lover, and felt a small jab of satisfaction at the sound. you felt fingers thread theough your hair, before pulling on it and forcing your head back until you were locking eyes with tsukishima.

"i think your mouth can do something else now, hm?" you nodded as best as you could, pulling your lip between your teeth as you focused on the rather visible bulge under your boyfriend's sweatpants. you curled fingers underneath his waistband once more, pulling both his sweats and boxers down in one go.

kei's dick, now freed, slapped against his stomach, already leaking precum that had inevitably soaked the material of his boxers. you pumped his length with your hand a few times, able to slide it up and down easily due to his precum, before taking him into your mouth.

no matter how many times you've done this, you still struggled to fully swallow his length. you still managed a great amount, and the rest was handled with your hand. you bobbed your head, setting your own pace and resisting the urge to gag when you felt his tip hit the back of your throat.

you settled into a rhythm, relaxing your jaw and placing a hand on his thigh to brace yourself. you coukd hear his groans from above you and it spurred you on, even thiugh your lungs were starting to burn from a lack of breathing.

before the sensation got unbearable, kei laced his fingers in your hair and pulled you away from his dick. when you looked up at his face you couldn't help but admire how pretty your boyfriend was all over again. while last time he had been focusing on a history project, his cheeks were flushed and he was out of breath, even going ahead and biting his own lip now. you thought the urge to be sarcastic about it.

"fuck, pretty, i can't wait," kei groaned, his fingers finding purchase on your hips and helping you lift them. in one swift motions, you hd been turned so that now you were on your hands and knees, feet hanging off the edge of the bed. you felt a hand smooth over the small of your back before kei leaned over you, his body radiating warmth as he pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder- a nonverbal question as to whether you were ok. when you looked back at his face and nodded, your boyfriend grinned before turning his attention to his dick.

he used a hand to position it, just barely parting your folds. you whined at the contact and how kei was teasing you, running the tip between your folds as you squirmed.

"kei, please," you pleaded breathily, and the hand that he rested on your back stilled.

"that's all you had to say, pretty," he mumbled, before pushing into you.

you moaned at the sensation, enjoying the stretch of him filling you up as he bottomed out. after a few moments of him staying still, you reached behind you to squeeze his hand and remind him that yes, he could in fact move.

at your confirmation kei placed his hands on your hips, keeping them still as he pulled out then thrusted back in, eliciting a soft moan from you. kei groaned in unison, the timbre of his voice making you clench around him. his hips never stilled, picking up a pace that had you moaning unashamedly and fisting kei's bedsheets as his dick hit the spot inside you which had you seeing stars.

a particularly hard thrust had you falling to your elbows as your arms gave out. the new angle only helped kei hit deeper and you practically screamed into the sheets at the stimulation.

"kei, fuck!" you barely sounded coherent, and the sound of your fucked-out voice just spurred kei on with his brutal pace. his thrusts were starting to lose their rhythm, though, and kei could tell that you were close too from the erratic spasms of your walls.

you couldn't even warn him that you were going to cum when kei brought a hand down to your clit, providing just that extra amount of friction to send you over the edge with a cry. that didn't stop kei from thrusting into you, helping you ride out your high as he let out a groan from the feeling of you clamping down around him.

he indulged in a few more thrusts before pulling out, pumping his length to finish before cumming on the shallow dip of your lower back. he then rather unceremoniously flopped down onto the bed next to you, joining you in the breathless afterglow of both of your orgasms.

after a few minutes, he rolled over to pepper kisses along your shoulderblade and run a hand down your back, careful to avoid the mess that he made.

"you feel like finishing that essay now, brat?" you giggled at his question, curling your hand around his as your spent body regained still regained strength.

"mm, maybe tomorrow," you hummed. kei kissed your shoulder one last time before getting up, padding off to the bathroom to clean himself up. you heard the distant sound of a tap running for a few seconds before kei came back to you, wet towel in hand. you felt the warmth of it against your back as kei cleaned you up, before handing it to you to clean the rest of yourself as he pulled on his sweatpants.

after you finished, he then handed you his sweatshirt, helping your tired arms to pull it over your head so that you were swaddled in the cloth.

the two of you lay down in tsukishima's bed, your back to his chest as you shared the same pillow. with the average hours of sleep that you both got as university students, this rest was needed. one of kei's hands came up

to tilt your face to look at his before he captured your lips in a kiss, albeit softer than the others he had given you earlier.

"goodnight, brat," he whispered to you.

"love you too, tsukki," you mumbled, already feeling the embrace of sleep tugging you towards unconsciousness. your boyfriend tugged you closer as well, pressing his face into your shoulder and making you grin in the dark.

that smile only widened when you heard the quietest love you too escape his lips minutes later, when he thought you had fallen asleep.

"i heard that, you know." kei only grumbled, squeezing you tighter.

"no you didn't, go to sleep."

take a look at the menu - ,, 📕 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[kurowrites]

Aviophobia

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

---

It wasn’t like Wei Ying particularly hated air travel, not at all. After all, it was still the most practical way to travel long distances, and the distance between China and Europe was definitely long. The problem was that though he had just sat down in his seat, he was already horrifically bored. The airplane hadn’t even finished boarding yet, and there were around ten hours of flight still in front of him, and he couldn’t wait to arrive at his destination already.

He wasn’t looking forward to the flight, not least because he didn’t actually want to leave. After a year of not seeing her, Wei Ying had finally been able to take some time off and visit his sister, who had been living abroad with her stupid, loaded husband. He’d spent two weeks with Jiang Yanli and his little nephew, and it had been so good to see them again. A-Ling had grown so much! But now, a lot of work was waiting for him back at home, and he really needed to return, not sure when they would be able to meet the next time. That, he definitely wasn’t happy about.

Wei Ying distractedly fidgeted around in his seat, trying to keep in mind that it was no use to take out his laptop now, because the flight attendants would ask him to pack it up again for take-off in a few minutes. He had taken a book with him, anticipating this situation, but right now, the book seemed so unappealing he couldn’t even be bothered to unpack it from his backpack.

Come on, he mentally urged the passengers who were still moving along the aisles in search of their seat like a group of very slow snails, move faster, so we can leave.

Despite his best efforts, the other passengers did not speed up their pace, and so Wei Ying was cursed to sit there and wait until everyone was seated. He tried not to notice the usual offenders that managed to get in everyone’s way and blocked everything with their luggage, and tried to relax (rather unsuccessfully).

As he was idly watching the passengers pass him by, he caught a flash of white that caught his attention. Just when he was sure that his eyes were playing a trick on him, a man in a pristine white suit separated from the crowd and sat down right next to him. He pushed his briefcase under the front seat, fastened his seat belt, nodded to Wei Ying once, and then directed his glance straight forward, turning into a beautiful marble statue.

Wei Ying tried not to stare at his new neighbour too conspicuously, but he couldn’t really help it. The man seemed to be horribly out of place here in economy class, with a tailor-made white suit that very obviously was of high quality and therefore very expensive. His face equally set him apart from the other passengers, with a noble look and a bone structure that looked more suited to the cover of a fashion magazine. Wei Ying, in a simple hoody, soft jacket, and old jeans that were selected specifically for comfort purposes (after all, he would have to vegetate in them for ten hours), wondered how this unicorn had gotten lost among the common folk.

His seatmate was incredibly handsome, obviously wealthy, and… extremely stiff.

When the flight attendant finally announced that boarding had been completed, and that they were waiting for permission to proceed to the runway, the man next to him put his hands on both armrests, and for a second, Wei Ying was ready to be offended that this man hogged all the armrests for himself without consideration for the other passengers.

Then he noticed the man’s knuckles going white, his hands holding on to the armrests as if…

Wei Ying looked at the man’s face again. He was still staring straight ahead, his handsome face expressionless, his breath deep and controlled.

His eyes were fixed at some indeterminate point in the distance, and their focus did not waver at all.  

And they weren’t even moving yet.

Oh dear, Wei Ying thought to himself. Someone is not a fan of flying, huh.

He knew that a lot of people probably wouldn’t appreciate his meddling, but then again, he couldn’t sit there and do nothing while his neighbour was counting breaths or whatever the fuck he was doing to calm himself down. He wasn’t going to sit next to this man for the next several hours and pretend that he didn’t notice that this person was very obviously panicking.

So he reached out, and carefully put his own hand over the one currently clutching at their shared armrest.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, as quietly as he could. “You’re not alone, and you’re going to be fine.”

The man sucked in a shocked breath the moment Wei Ying touched him.

Wei Ying was ready to draw back and apologise for his unrequested interference, Maybe he shouldn’t have touched him, maybe he had misread–

The hand under his turned around and grasped his own, holding him fast.

“I apologise,” the stranger replied in a faint tone of voice. “For my unseemly display.”

Wei Ying laughed quietly, relief washing over him.

“It’s alright,” he replied conversationally. “We all have our little burdens to carry. As for me, I am deadly afraid of dogs, and I will jump into your arms when I see one. Not that I have much shame to begin with, but my fear of dogs is definitely bigger than any shame I might have. There will be screaming and a general amount of unnecessary, very ugly drama.”

That, finally, had the stranger remove his gaze from the undetermined point in the distance he had settled on, and he turned towards Wei Ying.

Wow.

Wei Ying had been woefully underprepared for this event. The man was even more handsome, facing him directly, and Wei Ying was sure he had never seen such beautiful eyes.

How, he wondered again, had this man ended up in economy class? He should be flying a private plane, not panicking next to Wei Ying on a commercial flight. He should be someone’s trophy husband.

“Dogs?” the man asked him, as if a fear of dogs wasn’t an entirely normal phobia to have.

“Yes,” Wei Ying replied earnestly. “Have you seen them? So fast, and they make so much noise all the time, and their teeth. Ugh. It’s a completely rational fear to have!”

By now, the plane had moved onto the runway, and was starting the jets up.

The man clutched at Wei Ying’s hand almost painfully as the plane started to vibrate, but surprisingly, he did not look away from Wei Ying, steadily holding Wei Ying’s gaze.

“Well, so is a fear of flying, I guess,” Wei Ying mused as the airplane began to move. “But think about this: it’s far more likely to get mauled by a dog than to get involved in a plane accident. There are dogs everywhere, and you never know when one is going to come around a corner! And some owners really don’t know to handle their dogs. So, you see. My fear is much more rational than yours. Also, I did get mauled by several dogs in the past, you know. It’s not even a theoretical fear for me, I know exactly what those bastards are capable of. Dogs are horrible. Not to mention that it’s too late to do anything about your fear now, anyway. Look. We’ve taken off.”

The man kept clutching his hand and stared at him without replying. Wei Ying didn’t know if he even heard anything Wei Ying had said, what with the noise and the pressure in their ears. But the stranger never looked away, and he never let go of Wei Ying’s hand, so that was good, he thought.

Eventually, when the airplane had gained enough height to level off slightly, and the pressure on the diminished, his handsome neighbour finally let out a deep breath and turned his gaze away.

Wei Ying felt almost disappointed to be relieved of the heavy weight of his gaze.

As he had said, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

“Ridiculous,” his neighbour murmured, eventually, after a long period of silence.

Wei Ying laughed.

“Hello Ridiculous,” he greeted, shaking their still-connected hands playfully. “My name is Wei Ying.”

The man’s head whipped around, and he sent him a positively offended look.

And then, after a beat of silence, he said,

“Lan Zhan.”

---

It needed some careful prodding and digging, but eventually, Wei Ying found out that Lan Zhan the reason why Lan Zhan was on this plain at all was because he had taken over the business trip as a favour to his older brother, who had been unable to travel.

Wei Ying felt the need to tease him for his self-sacrificing sense of familial piety, but he didn’t quite dare to tease Lan Zhan about it. After all, Lan Zhan had done a good thing, at the cost of his own suffering.

Lan Zhan was already bad enough when it came to flying as it was, but then someone had made a mistake with the booking, and he had been booked to fly economy rather than business class on his return trip. Lan Zhan, already at the airport and very troubled by the notion of having to fly, period, had not had the energy to discuss the mistake in his booking and decided to keep his assigned seat. After all, it hardly made any difference whether he was flying business or economy. He would spend the entire flight terrified, either way.

“Well, it was very lucky you ended up choosing economy,” Wei Ying mused. “Now you have a free emotional support pet for the entire flight.”

He grinned cheekily and wiggled Lan Zhan’s hand, still safely encased in his own.

Lan Zhan frowned at the joke.

“I thank you,” he replied regardless. “It is… much easier with you here. But I do not wish to trouble you with my… unfortunate condition.”

What a polite, honest man!

Wei Ying was delighted.

“It’s no trouble at all! You saved me from hours and hours of boredom, so it’s really not just you that’s profiting from this. Are you going to be fine when I have to go to the bathroom though?”

Lan Zhan frowned again, but nodded once.

“Good, good,” Wei Ying praised. “And if you wait for me very nicely, I’m going to get us some snacks from the kitchen. They never bring out the chocolate, which is a crime, really.”

---

In the end, after Wei Ying wheedled out information about Lan Zhan’s job and life for what felt like hours, Lan Zhan managed to relax enough to doze off for a little bit, and they spent the rest of their flight in a repeating pattern of chatting, dozing off, and then being woken up to be served questionable airplane meals.

When they finally touched down at their destination (Lan Zhan once again clutching Wei Ying’s hand as if it was the only lifeline that he had – and Wei Ying trying not to be too happy about that), they took their carry-on luggage and slowly ambled out of the plane, moving towards the baggage claim with the rest of the passengers.

Lan Zhan, as soon as he was out of the airplane and on solid ground again, straightened up and took on a confident stance.

Wei Ying was a little bit in awe. He looked even more handsome and formidable now, in his still pristine white suit. He was even taller than Wei Ying had first thought, definitely taller than Wei Ying, and Wei Ying mused whether there was anything about this man that wasn’t awe-inspiring.

(Well, there was that small case of aviophobia, but who could blame him for that, really.)

Wei Ying felt his hand twitch, and he sternly told himself that it was silly to wish for them to continue holding hands, now that they were out of the plane.

“Well,” he said awkwardly as he grabbed his luggage off the conveyor belt. He wasn’t quite willing to say his goodbyes yet, but he was equally unable to think of any reason to hold on to Lan Zhan’s company for a little longer. “I had a good time on our flight, Lan Zhan. Well. I guess you don’t really want to hear that. You probably had a horrible time. For your sake, I hope that you won’t come close to any planes for a while.”

“Wei Ying, too,” Lan Zhan replied. “For your sake, I hope that you will not meet any dogs suddenly coming around corners. So that you don’t have to leap into anyone’s arms.”

Wei Ying gaped, and as he stared at Lan Zhan in disbelief, he noticed the smallest uptick of Lan Zhan’s lips.

“Ayoo!” he cried. “Lan Zhan, are you teasing me? Look at you, all confident now that you are back on solid ground! Be a little more grateful to your emotional support pet!”

Lan Zhan nonchalantly picked his (very small, compared to Wei Ying’s big, lumpy one) suitcase up from the conveyor belt, and placed it next to his feet.

“I am grateful,” Lan Zhan said, serious again. “I have a car waiting for me outside. You are welcome to join me. I will drop you off anywhere in the city. As a sign of my gratitude.”

“Mmm,” Wei Ying made a considering noise. He didn’t want to say goodbye yet, not when Lan Zhan made him such a nice offer. But then, he was also really hungry.  

“I would love to get chauffeured around, but to be honest, I was planning on getting some decent coffee and a nice breakfast somewhere first. The food in that plane was horrible and I’m not functional without decent coffee.”

Lan Zhan was quiet for a moment.

“Can you wait for half an hour?”

“Huh?”

But before Wei Ying could ask him to elaborate, Lan Zhan was already herding Wei Ying towards the exit. He somehow managed to argue Wei Ying into accepting the car ride (Lan Zhan didn’t even argue, how that worked, Wei Ying sure didn’t know), and then Lan Zhan drove him to the nicest little shop for the most delicious breakfast that Wei Ying could have possibly wished for.

He was ravenous by the time they arrived, but he definitely wasn’t in a mood to complain as soon as the first delicious whiff of fresh coffee and food met his nose in welcome.

Lan Zhan was very attentive as they sat down to eat, generously plying Wei Ying with coffee, and letting him pick all his favourite foods. Wei Ying also learned that when Lan Zhan wasn’t scared for his life, he was remarkably smart and funny. It was so easy to get comfortable with him that Wei Ying had a hard time believing that they had never met until just one day ago.  

Lan Zhan was fun.

“Lan Zhan, you’re joking,” Wei Ying laughed, playfully swatting at Lan Zhan’s arm. “Your first serious family fight was because of rabbits?”

“They were very cute,” Lan Zhan replied seriously, insistent on the point.

Wei Ying leaned forward eagerly, meeting Lan Zhan’s serious mien with a big grin.

“And then, what happened with them?” Wei Ying asked. “Did your uncle cook them in a pot? Were you forced to eat rabbit stew?”

“The fourth generation now lives in my back garden.”

Wei Ying gasped. “You kept them?”

Lan Zhan showed the barest twitch of his lips. “Of course.”

Wei Ying nearly slid under the table at the sight of Lan Zhan’s proud little smile.

If Lan Zhan was trying to seduce him, then Wei Ying would consider himself sufficiently seduced by now.

Goodness gracious, that smile was criminal!

And he was the proud owner of a hoard of rabbits!

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You are a veritable little rebel. But, speaking from one pet to another, there is no way you can only tell me about your rabbits and not show them to me. That would be very rude.”

And on Wei Ying’s request, Lan Zhan took out his phone and showed Wei Ying his rabbit children. And then, since he had his phone out already, he shared his contact with Wei Ying. And when they had finished their breakfast, Lan Zhan led him back to the car and drove him home to his apartment, as promised.

When Wei Ying opened the door of the parked car, ready to hop out Lan Zhan stopped him.

“Thank you, Wei Ying,” he said, his beautiful, serious eyes gazing at Wei Ying steadily, as he had done in the plane. “For your help.”

Wei Ying laughed, and rubbed his nose.

God, he really liked the way that Lan Zhan looked at him.  

“For what it’s worth,” he replied quickly, “I’m willing to be Lan Zhan’s emotional support pet anytime.”

And then, because he felt like was too presumptuous and said too much, he hopped out of the car, grabbed his luggage, and weaselled away, to the safety of his apartment.

Once the door of the apartment was closed and his luggage thrown into a corner, he took a deep breath. He dug his phone out of his jacket to inform Jiang Yanli of his save arrival. She was probably wondering why he hadn’t sent her a message yet.

When he unlocked the phone, as expected, there was a message from his sister, asking him if he had arrived safely. However, before he could send a reply, his phone pinged with another message. A message not from Jiang Yanli.

[Lan Zhan, 11.46 am] I’ll take you by your word, Wei Ying. I might have to rely on your services again.

Suddenly, Wei Ying was glad that no one could see him here, hiding behind the door of his own apartment, as he blushed as red as a tomato.

This man!

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 20] FINAL

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, shibari, dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, overstimulation/forced orgasms, squirting, degradation, name calling, daddy!kink, gags! 😍💕 ✨HAPPY NEW YEAR!!✨ Here’s to more fun fics in 2021! I can’t believe this is our last chapter though omg 😭 It’s been suuuuch a journey and a privilege to write this little series out! I’ve honestly thought about a camgirl/boy series for like, over a year now, and I’m glad I finally did it! I completed one of my goals! 🥺💕 2020 was definitely a wild one, but I want to thank you all so fuckin’ much for supporting me and stickin’ it out with me all year! Here’s to more in the coming year!💕 Also I was proofreading this at the dining table last night thinking my roommate wouldn’t come out of their room but they did(while I was making dinner and my hands were dirty so I couldnt close my laptop ☠️) and they walked past my laptop and now I’m convinced they saw my fucking smut fic right in the open so yes my little mini-break next week is MUCH needed cause I am ✨embarrassed✨ 🤣 I’ll still do my inbox roundup tomorrow and probably answer a bunch of small thirst posts ‘n stuff throughout the week but there won’t be any drabbles! For now, enjoy chapter 20 🥺, have a safe weekend, and remember that I love you~ ❤️🍒💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 COMPLETE

Seungcheol wakes up much earlier than you do the next morning; pressing a kiss to your forehead as you groan and snuggle deeper into your pillow.

“Baby, I need to go run some errands for a little bit, okay? Just keep sleeping, you don’t need to get up yet. But, I made breakfast and put it in the microwave for you when you decide to get up later.”

His voice is muffled and you can barely understand what he’s saying but you nod; a soft sigh on your lips when you drift back into dreamland. He takes his time getting ready, checking his phone notifications as he gets dressed and places a note on the nightstand knowing that you didn’t catch a single word he said.

‘Hey, did you get everything I asked for?’

Jimin🧍🏻: of course, who do you think I am? Jeongguk?

Jimin🧍🏻: and btw, i’m just giving you a crash course okay? We don’t really have a ton of time

Jimin🧍🏻: did you watch those tutorial videos I sent you?

‘Yeah, I did some practice on my breaks, but I guess you can tell me if I’m doing anything wrong.’

Jimin🧍🏻: okee, i’ll be waiting. Don’t get here too late!

‘I’ll be otw soon. Thanks again, Jimin.’

“Ow--damn, okay, you don’t need to tug on it so much!”

“Sorry, I’ll be careful! And why are we practicing on you anyway?! Couldn’t you just have shown me pictures or something?”

“How else will you learn if not on an actual body? It doesn’t work the same way, Seungcheol.” Jimin pauses, checking himself in the mirror. “Also, keep in mind she does have boobs so just… go slow, okay? It’s not gonna sit like this on her.”

Seungcheol blushes a crimson red; biting the inside of his cheek at how amateur he was at this.

“Okay…”

Seungcheol is gone for a lot longer than you anticipate and although he replies quickly to your texts, you can’t help but be curious about where he’d gone and what he was doing.

Especially knowing that the two of you had to film tonight and knowing that everything was up to Seungcheol.

A shiver rolls down your body at the thought and you quickly try to shake off the nerves that seem to slowly invade your body when your mind starts to wander.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure…”

“I’m home!”

“Where have you--oh, that’s… a b-big box? Um, should I be concerned...”

Seungcheol grins, shrugging as he sets it onto the kitchen counter. “Just some supplies for tonight. I had to go pick them up from a friend but I had to make sure everything was right.” He notices the way you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the box; eyes twinkling when he makes his way towards you.

He tilts your head up to meet his in a searing kiss, lips easing into a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck and melt under his touch. You moan against his lips just before he pulls away; staring dreamily at him while his hands start to roam over your clothed body.

“We have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart. Let’s pamper you a little before then, hmm?”

j__min: ??? where’s the loverboy

j__min has donated $200

angelhan has donated $75

therealchan99 has donated $50

xcaliburDK has donated $75

xcaliburDK: is that the sybian? Haven’t seen that in a looong while

You bite your lip and nod, somewhat shy as you sit alone in front of the camera. “Seungcheol’s still… setting up but he told me to start! I’m a little nervous, to be honest…” Your eyes flit to Seungcheol who rummages through the box in the kitchen and from the angle you’re sat in, you can’t see a single thing he takes out.

Earlier, he’d cooked you your favorite meal and even took the time to give you a full body massage before the two of you cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie. To you, it seemed a little too suspiciously tame and you only found yourself more nervous when he made you drink two glasses of water and ever so quietly announced it was time to start getting ready for the camshow.

“He’s being so suspicious! He was even gone for a few hours earlier today…” You mumble; brows furrowed at the camera before checking the comments.

It still amazed you every time with how much money you and Seungcheol made from the camshows and videos and it made you feel even better knowing that everyone loved the chemistry the two of you had together. There were a lot of video requests and ideas mixed in with the comments at any given time and you were definitely ready to pitch some to Seungcheol now that you’d rebranded your channel to be a couple’s channel instead.

“Almost done, sweetheart!”

gc__koo: he told me to watch cuz he was being suspicious with me too 

gc__koo has donated $50

alphagyu97: what is he even plotting

alphagyu97: i am excited to see the sybian again tho ngl

artist8hao: pretty baby gonna squirt for us again?

universe_WZ: hell fuckin yea let us see how fuckin wrecked you get on that machine

You feel your pussy clench around emptiness at their comments; already feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter with the anticipation.

Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and Seungcheol walks towards the bed with a wide smile and the same box in hand. “Ready?” You can only nod back slowly, watching as he dumps the contents of the box right next to your body.

gc__koo: oy

chwenon: oh shit

sleepy_wonu: oh baby, you’re in for it now

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

Your entire body fills with warmth as you look over the various objects; unsure of where to really look first. “I, um--”

A stack of red ropes sits next to a small bullet vibrator that sits next to a ball gag that sits next to a pair of EMT shears and your eyes immediately flit up to Seungcheol who only smirks back at your shocked expression. “I had some other toys I wanted to use but I figured I should go easy on you, y’know? Since you showed me some mercy last night.”

Nodding, you reach out towards the ropes, touching them shyly. “Why red?”

“Thought they’d be on theme for you, babygirl.”

Seungcheol takes his time; remembering Jimin’s words when he tugs the ropes around your wrists.

“Colour, babygirl?”

“G-green… daddy…”

He nods, sitting up on his knees behind you as you sit on the sybian and face the camera. You bite your lip, somewhat embarrassed that you were already soaking the toy underneath you as Seungcheol worked to bind your arms behind you.

“D--daddy, where did you l-learn this?” You whisper, somewhat curious if this had anything to do with why he was gone for so long earlier in the day.

“Mm, daddy’s friend Jimin was kind enough to help me get the tools and teach me a few tricks to make sure I kept my babygirl safe. Wasn’t that kind of him?” You nod gently, gulping when you shift atop the machine slightly in hopes of relieving some of the growing sexual tension in your body. “Why don’t you thank him properly, sweetheart?”

Your hazy eyes make eye contact with the camera, head tilted slightly. “T-thank you, J-Jimin… for--for helping daddy…”

j__min: omg a shoutout ive made it

kitty_junjun: we never thought we’d see the day

tangerine_kwan: and here we all thought you were gonna be the bad guy huh

hoshi_tiger_xx: like when u only see previews of the book online but the rest of it is different ykwim

Seungcheol makes sure your arms are bound snug enough but not too tight; leaning away slightly to admire his rope work. “Feeling okay so far, babygirl?”

Nodding, you whine back slightly. “Y-yes, daddy… But… my--my pussy wants s-something…” He laughs in return, readjusting so that he’s sitting on your side this time to give himself easier access to start the rest of the bindings.

“Is that so? You’re gonna have to be a little more patient this time ‘cause daddy’s not done yet.” He starts working on the rest of the harness; going slow and checking in with you often to make sure none of the ropes were digging into your skin or making you uncomfortable. “You’ll have to forgive me a little though, I’m admittedly a ‘lil inexperienced so our pretty babygirl is only going to be tied up in this pretty harness for tonight.”

gentleman_josh95: the fact u even took the time to learn just for her

gentleman_josh95 has donated $100

artist8hao: seriously, the dedication

kitty_junjun: we stan a man who knows safety and etiquette 

Comments of reassurance and donations flood in at Seungcheol’s small apology and although the two of you are in your own world; you can tell from just the amount of pings coming from your laptop that they all seemed to be encouraging him.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as Seungcheol continues to move around you on the bed to finish the harness and a smile graces his lips when he starts to secure the last knots in the back. He can’t help but mentally pat himself on the back at how neatly he’d done it for his first time.

“There. All done, baby.”

Your eyes flit to the laptop’s screen to see yourself; cheeks hot when you see how fucked out you already look and he hadn’t even touched you properly or turned on the machine.

The star harness Seungcheol had tied looks pretty with red ropes and you can’t hide your smile at how good it looks on you too either. “Ah, daddy made it really p-pretty… Thank you.”

This time, Seungcheol nods, letting you admire yourself as he silently reaches for the small remote for the sybian, switching it on.

Your entire body lurches forward as soon as the vibrations attack your clit and you immediately find yourself moaning and grinding down onto the machine as he gives you some relief.  

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Now let’s really have some fun, huh?”

You need to cum.

Badly.

“Awww, is my pretty baby drooling? Does it feel that good on your sensitive ‘lil clit?” He teases, smoothing down your hair as you cry around the ball gag in your mouth; drool seeping out from the side of your lips when he raises the vibrations a setting higher.

You don’t know how many times he’d played with the settings and edged you by now, but all you do know is that the urge to cum only grows stronger as you grind against the machine, soaking it with your wetness as you chase the pleasure building up in your body again.  

Surely cumming was okay, right? He never said you couldn’t.

You whimper around the ball gag, eyes fluttering shut when the tension in your body snaps in the blink of an eye and your thighs clamp down onto the sides of the machine. Throwing your head back, you moan against the gag and ride out your high as Seungcheol watches you from the side.

“Mm, bet that felt good, huh? But I know you want something in that greedy ‘lil cunt of yours, don’t you? You want daddy’s cock slamming into your tight ‘lil hole ‘til it’s full of my cum, right, sweetheart?” He licks his lips, turning off the sybian as you slump forward.

universe_WZ: shit shes so sensitive

chwenon: especially with her arms bound like that i bet she’s on cloud nine rn

gentleman_josh95: her cute lil head is probably all fuzzy already from all the sensations

therealchan99 has donated $100

gc__koo has donated $75

j__min has donated $150

All you can do is whimper and nod; teary eyes blinking back at Seungcheol as he smirks and leans in towards you.

“Mmm, you’ll get what you want eventually. But for now, you’re gonna cum again.”

He turns the sybian back on, licking his lips when he sees your body tensing again. It was always easier to get you to cum a second time and his point is proven when you mewl around the ball gag a few minutes later; chest heaving in stuttered breaths as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit when you’re quickly thrown into another orgasm.

“You always cum for daddy so easily, don’t you, babygirl?”

Your head feels fuzzy after already cumming twice in such a short span of time but you nod, head lolling to the side as Seungcheol finally turns the sybian off for good.

Seungcheol gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s scooting in and fiddling with the clasps at the back of your head to take the ball gag off.

A thread of saliva connects your lips to the gag and you whimper at how good it feels to be able to actually speak again. “D-daddy…” Drool drips from your mouth as your lead lolls forward and Seungcheol is quick to bring a hand up to keep your head up as he looks into your lust filled eyes.

“Colour, sweetheart?”

“Still g-green…” He nods back, checking to make sure none of the ropes had shifted. “Would you like some water before we continue, baby?”

“Yes, daddy…”

He fetches you a glass of water, tilting it against your lips as you down the entire glass and you find yourself a little surprised at how needed it was. “Thank you, d-daddy…”

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Ready to keep going?”

You nod, a little bit more energized. “I hope everyone, mmh, l-likes the show so f-far~” Your teary vision prevents you from reading the comments and before you can even make an effort to, Seungcheol is already helping you off of the machine and helping you sit on the bed across from him.

alphagyu97: ugh she looks so fucking good in that harness

angelhan: right? That shade of red looks so good against her skin too

angelhan: so fuckin pretty

tangerine_kwan: pics for the private room later? Plz i beg

Seungcheol takes this time to take off his boxer briefs, cock curving up against his abdomen when he’s fully naked across from you. He wraps a hand around his cock, moaning and spreading the precum down his shaft as you watch. “D’you want this, baby?”

Your lips fall open in a silent moan as you watch Seungcheol jerk himself off and you can’t help but squirm. “Y-yes…”

“Tell me exactly what you want then. Let them hear what a filthy little slut you are for me.” You can’t help but feel miserably empty watching him and despite having already cum twice, you want his cock fucking you open and making you cum again.

“I--I--”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“I, ngh, I want d-daddy’s cock… Please? Ah, I--I wanna feel you fucking my--my pussy into the, mmh, s-shape of your c-cock… And I w-want you to c-cum inside my--my slutty little h-hole…”

Seungcheol scoffs, hips shallowly thrusting up into his enclosed fist. “That’s right. You’re just my slutty ‘lil babygirl that lets me use all her tight holes how I please, right? You like it when I cum down your throat and in your pretty ‘lil ass. But we all know you like it best when I cum in your hot ‘lil cunt. Makes you feel all warm and full, doesn’t it? You like it when my cum is dripping out of your spent cunt and sliding down your shaky thighs.” This time you nod furiously as you whine back in response.

“P-please… Can’t wait any--anymore!”

This time, the impatience takes over as you slightly tug on the ropes; whining when they don’t give. “Daddy!”

And this time, he gives in quicker than he anticipates, growling as he reaches for the EMT shears to cut you from the harness. “Don’t let your arms down, no matter how much you want to. You’re going to strain your arms if you move too fast so let me handle it, okay, sweetheart?”

The sudden gentleness in his voice has a giddy warmth pouring over you as you nod and sit still while he cuts at various points of the harness to make the ropes fall loose around your arms and chest. You keep your arms in the same position like he requested and you soon feel his hands roaming your skin and massaging your arms to get the blood flowing again.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” He whispers against your hair, leaning down to kiss your shoulder before he slowly easing your arms down from being folded behind your back.

He continues to massage your arms for a few more minutes before it’s you that’s getting impatient. “Daddy… Can you fuck me now?” Whispering, you slightly turn your body to the side to meet his gentle stare.

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, nodding. “Lay on your back for me, legs spread.”

You follow his orders as you quickly scramble to get into position; legs spread wide for him to situate himself between.

“Mm, your pussy is still so fuckin’ wet. I wanna taste you on my tongue, baby.” Whines spill from your lips as you shake your head ‘no.’

“No! My p-pussy feels empty, I need y-your cock, daddy… ‘n I’m so wet, you can probably, ah, just s-slide your cock in…”

He wraps a hand around his cock just as you wrap your legs around his waist and he guides himself until the head of his cock is right at your entrance.

Neither of you say a word as he slowly starts to sink his cock in; guttural moans on his lips when he meets no resistance and bottoms out in a singular thrust. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so fuckin’ wet. Shit, and so t-tight!” You clench around him, already feeling good with his cock inside of you as you beg him to fuck you hard and fast.

“Ngh, p-please fuck me like--like I’m your, hah, c-cocksleeve… I want it f-fast, daddy!”

He grits his teeth at your words; drawing his hips back before snapping them into you just how you wanted. “Fast, hmm? All you think about in that pretty head of yours is my cock pounding you open, huh? Slamming into you so fuckin’ good, it makes your toes curl when you cum.”

Seungcheol starts a quick pace, already feeling the pleasure building up for himself when you’re reduced to garbled noises and broken cries of his name. The heels of your feet dig into the small of his back as you try to press him in closer and he’s quick to reach for the small bullet vibrator left on the bed next to your body.

“Your body is so fuckin’ sensitive, I can already feel how tight you’re getting around me. So fuckin’ greedy to cum too. Already came twice and you still want more. You’re not satisfied until your whole body is shaking underneath me, huh, sweetheart?” He turns the small toy on, pressing it to your clit as you yelp and let out choked sobs.

“Ah, ngh, d-daddy, my--my clit’s t-too sen--sensitive! I--I can’t--!” Squirming, you feel the pressure building up obscenely quick; bottom lip quivering when he takes one of your free hands and makes you hold the toy to your swollen clit.

“Just a little more, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna cum?”

He angles his thrusts to graze against your g-spot and loud cries of his name leave your lips in a hurried, jumbled mess when he only doubles his pace.

The sound of donations and comments pour in like water and get lost within the ringing in your ears; unable to even warn Seungcheol that you’re about to cum when you feel your entire body starting to lock up underneath him.

Your lips part in a silent scream and your back bows off of the bed, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum for the third time. Seungcheol growls, fucking you through it as you squirt all over his lower half.  He finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as you cum, but he feels himself quickly following suit with your warm walls fluttering around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, that’s right. Squirt for me, get me fuckin’ soaked while you cum.” He uses a free hand to make sure you keep the toy pressed to your clit, growling when he starts to unload his cum inside of you. “Mmh, gonna fill your cunt up with what you want, baby.”

A shaky moan leaves your lips as you feel him throbbing inside your pussy; walls clamped down onto him in a vice grip as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm.

“Ah, d-daddy’s cumming suh--so much inside of my p-pussy…”

Whining, you feel Seungcheol’s grip on your hand give way as he rides out his pleasure and you take the opportunity to turn off the small bullet vibrator while he doesn’t notice.

You watch his face contort in pleasure, hips still shallowly thrusting into you as his entire body shivers above you.

“D-daddy’s so h-handsome...” You mumble, cheeks hot when he cracks a smile through the pleasure wracking his body and chuckles under his breath. 

“Thank you, babygirl.” 

After you end the show, Seungcheol makes sure to cuddle with you on the bed for a little while longer.

“One more glass of water, baby.” You whine in response, pouting up at him before he gets up from the soaked sheets. 

“But I already had a glass! If you have a piss kink just say so, ‘Cheol!”

He lets out a boisterous laugh at your comment, trudging back to the bed from the kitchen with another glass of water for you. “You need to be hydrated, sweetheart. You came three times and we played a little more rough today. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” 

“Fine, but you didn’t deny my comment.” You snarkily reply, taking the glass from him as you down the water. 

“Don’t make me have to punish you again! I’ll have you know I still need to get you all washed up and change the bed--”

A faint pinging has the two of you turning to the laptop; still on your camming homepage from where you’d checked the revenues from tonight’s show. 

A small [1] sits above your inbox and Seungcheol is quick to turn to you with an eyebrow raised. “I thought you turned off the messaging system on your profile?” 

You tilt your head in confusion, handing him the emptied glass. “I did. The only messages I should get are from, like, the actual system admins or other creator accounts which, I haven’t received any ‘til... now, I guess?”

Seungcheol sets the glass down onto the nightstand before he takes a seat next to you, dragging the laptop closer as you go to check the notification. 

“’Love&Letter Films’? Aren’t they one of the biggest adult film companies?” Mumbling, you click on the message, giving yourself and Seungcheol a second to process the message that stares back at you; a shocked smile on your lips.

‘Hello!

I hope this message finds Cherry and Seungcheol well. 

We, at ‘Love&Letter Films’, have really enjoyed the shows and videos from your channel throughout the years and we really have enjoyed watching the growth of your channel and the addition of Seungcheol to it. The dynamics between the two of you are rare in this industry and we’ve yet to see anyone like the two of you in this market. 

The shows from the last two nights have proven that the two of you have the right kind of chemistry to film together for bigger productions and we would love to hire you for a few film productions we have planned in the upcoming weeks as a feeler. Of course, all expenses paid by us if you would kindly take our offer. 

We love the various scenes and roles that the two of you take on with ease and we would love to help propel your careers forward, should you pursue a career in the adult entertainment industry. 

Please don’t hesitate to contact me as I’ve listed my contact information below. I’m excited to hear from the two of you and hope to work with you in the future on many projects.

Respectfully, 

Kwon Soonyoung, L&L FILMS CEO’

[jamlavender]

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss: Mrs Coulter, misogyny and the His Dark Materials TV show

The show went hard on misogyny as a vital part of Mrs Coulter’s backstory, and I want to talk about how they did it, and why, and how it might have been done better. This is quite long (when is anything I write not, let’s be real) so it’s under the cut. Read on for thoughts on women, power and fictional villainy.

As a quick disclaimer, though: I’ve enjoyed the show a lot! I’m so glad they made it! Ruth Wilson is mesmerising as Mrs Coulter! There’s so much to appreciate about the show overall, including many aspects of Mrs Coulter’s portrayal. But the HDM team have also made gender politics and misogyny very explicit themes of the show – particularly season two, particularly season two, episode five – and I think it’s fair to critique that.

Let’s be clear: Mrs Coulter is a villain. She murders kids by tearing out their souls. She kills and tortures friends and foes alike without a second thought. She abuses her daughter. She upholds and advances a totalitarian regime. She’s a Bad Person, as confirmed by God himself with the unforgettable line: “You are a cesspit of moral filth.” She’s fucking terrible, but, in life as in art, many of us are fascinated by how such awful people are made. What drives someone to commit atrocities? I am keen to see such questions examined in fiction, because I don’t think exploring a character necessarily means excusing their actions, and because it’s interesting (I mean, of course I find her fascinating, I’ve written a novel’s worth of fic about her). However, after a few snarky comments (“What sort of woman raised Father Graves, do you think?”) and some subtler commentary on sexuality, gender and power (her unsettling MacPhail with the key in the bra in S1E2), S2E5 drew a weird line between sexism in Mrs Coulter’s professional and academic life and her vast and senseless institutionalised child murder, and the longer I’ve sat with that the more I’m like: what the fuck?

Look, Mrs Coulter doesn’t tear apart children to search for sin inside them and poison Boreal and break a witch’s fingers because she’s experienced sexism in the workplace and in her education. That’s… a very odd thing to imply. We have to remember that there are lots of women in Lyra’s world, all of whom will also have experienced sexism, misogyny and other forms of marginalisation (many in more expansive and pernicious ways than Mrs Coulter, who’s a woman, yes, but also white, wealthy, highly educated and very thin and beautiful), and none of them are running arctic torture stations. She will have experienced misogyny, absolutely, and that will have affected her in various ways that inform how she approaches her work, but to imply that being denied a doctorate is the reason she became a sadistic killer is frankly bizarre. Here are a few of the lines from that episode with my commentary:

“Do you know who I could have been in this world?” What does this mean? If she’d been roughly the same person in our world, the answer is: Margaret Thatcher, which is probably a step down for Marisa, all things considered, because the Magisterium is far more autocratic than any recent Tory government and would be a much easier institutional environment in which to enact her cruelty. What we’re supposed to think, clearly, is that she’d have been a different person: a scientist and a mother, and she’s had this realisation because she saw a woman with a baby and a laptop and had a three-minute conversation with Mary. This doesn’t make sense. We live in our world! It’s less repressive than Lyra’s world but it’s hardly a gender utopia. If Mrs Coulter had chosen the scientist-and-mother life (which, as I’ll revisit later, she could have done in her world but chose not to because of her megalomaniac tendencies), she’d still have been affected by misogyny here too. Our world is not kind to young mothers, nor young women embroiled in scandals, nor is the world teeming with female physicists. It might be a little better, sure, but it’s hardly as if those gendered challenges would have been solved.  

“What do you mean she runs a department?” This is just the show forgetting its own canon. Marisa, you ran a massive government organisation (the GOB), including a huge murder science research initiative in the Arctic. That’s a much bigger undertaking and much more impressive than running a university department in our world. Pull yourself together.

“But because I was a woman, I was denied a doctorate by the Magisterium.” This is the show flagrantly ignoring the source material to make a clumsy political point. In the books, there are women with doctorates (notably Hannah Relf, also a major player in the new Book of Dust trilogy) and at least one women’s college full of female scholars. Now, would that women’s college likely be underfunded and disrespected compared to the men’s colleges? Almost certainly. But saying that is different than saying “I couldn’t get my doctorate!” when women in Lyra’s world can. The show knew what point they wanted to make, and were willing to ignore canon to do so, which is frustrating. Also, given that there are female academics and scientists in Lyra’s world, and that Mrs Coulter is a member of St Sophia’s college, it’s clear that she could have lived that life if she so desired. But she didn’t want that, because being a scientist and academic at St Sophia’s imbues her with no real power, and that’s what she craves.

I’m not opposed, in theory, to exploring Mrs Coulter and misogyny in more depth, but I think doing so through an examination of the sexual politics of her life would have made a lot more narrative sense and been much more powerful. It’s better evidenced in the text – her using her sexuality to manipulate people and taking lovers for political sway is entirely canon, as is her backstory where genuine love and lust blew up her life – and it links much more closely with the most shocking of her villainy, which involves cutting out children’s dæmons to stop them developing “troublesome thoughts and feelings,” referencing sexual and romantic desire (and what Lyra and Will do to save Dust is clearly a big ‘fuck you’ to those aims). She even says this to MacPhail in TAS, “If you thought for one moment that I would release my daughter into the care - the care! - of a body of men with a feverish obsession with sexuality, men with dirty fingernails, reeking of ancient sweat, men whose furtive imaginations would crawl over her body like cockroaches - if you thought I would expose my child to that, my Lord President, you are more stupid than you take me for.” Don’t get me wrong, she’d have been a villain regardless, but I do believe that there’s a much stronger link between her sexual and romantic experiences and her murder work than between professional and academic stifling and child murder. It would have been a lot more interesting and a lot less tenuous.

However, the show is trying to be family-friendly, and digging into why this terrible, cruel woman might want to cut the ability for desire and love (and other non-sexual adult feelings, I’m sure) out of people could get dark. We know that the show doesn’t want to go there, because they’ve actively toned down her weaponising her sexuality: in the books, she has an established sexual relationship with Boreal, whereas the show made it seem like she’s been stringing him along all this time, and made it about potentially ‘sharing a life’ together rather than fucking, which was clearly the arrangement in the books. Also, I think Ruth Wilson said she and Ariyon Bakare filmed a “steamy scene” together, and given that only a single chaste kiss between them aired it must have been cut. I think they deliberately minimised the sexual elements of the text, particularly regarding Mrs Coulter (the mountain scene with Asriel, which I did still love, was also a lot less horny than in the book) and replaced that with another gender issue, that of professional sexism, as if the two are interchangeable, which they are not. This is a shame, both for Mrs Coulter’s character and also for the story as a whole, because the characters’ relationships with sex and desire are an important part of the books! (If this minimised sexuality approach means that they don’t use the TAS scene where Asriel threatens to gag her and she tries to goad him into doing it, I’ll scream). Overall, I think they missed the mark here, which is a shame because I also think it could have been done well, if they’d been bolder and darker and more thoughtful.

Why might this happen? Why might the show take this approach? Why might it be latched onto by viewers? Personally, I think the conversations we have about women and power are very simplistic, which leaves us in a tight spot when we see women seizing power for themselves (even in fiction) and weaponising that against others, not just other women but people of all genders, because we struggle to move past ‘women have overall been denied power, so them taking it ‘back’ is good,’ even if that immediately becomes a hot mess of white, corporate feminism and results in the ongoing oppression of many people. I think we are so hungry for representations of powerful women that we – producers and viewers alike – struggle to see them as bad, because it’s uncomfortable to be so intoxicated by Mrs Coulter effortlessly dominating the men around her, subverting systems designed to marginalise her for her own benefit, and generally being aggressive and intelligent and ruthless, and then realise that you are entranced by someone who is, objectively, a terrible, terrible person. It can be hard to realise that if you channelled the energy of someone who mesmerises you, you’d be the villain. So instead of sitting with that (more on this below), a lot of legwork goes into reworking her villainy into, somehow, a just act, a result of oppression, as her taking back power that has been denied to her, rather than grappling with the fact that for anyone to desire power in such a merciless way, even if they have to overcome marginalisation to get it, is really, really dangerous.

The joy, of course, is that Mrs Coulter is not real! She’s not real! Adoring fictional characters does not mean condoning their (imaginary) decisions, nor do stories exist for each person in them to fit neatly into a good or bad box so you know who you’re allowed to love. Furthermore, fiction can be a fabulous tool for exploring and interrogating the parts of yourself that, if left to bloom unexamined, might perpetuate beliefs or behaviour that cause harm to others. Mrs Coulter doesn’t need to be a feminist or taking down the patriarchy or a righteous powerful woman to illuminate things about gender, power and feminism for those reading and watching. In fact, it’s important that we explore what happens when women (most commonly white, wealthy women, as she is) continue to perpetuate brutal systems under the guise of sticking it to ‘men,’ because it happens all the time in the real world, and it’s a serious issue. Finding characters like Mrs Coulter so cool and compelling doesn’t make you a bad person, but it might tell you something about yourself – not that you want to be a villain or kill kids or whatever, but something about how you relate to your gender or women or men or power – and that knowledge can be useful! We all have better and worse impulses, and finding art that helps us make sense of ourselves, both the good and bad parts, is a gift that we should relish.

Anyway, tl;dr, Mrs Coulter doesn’t need to be sympathetic or understandable or redeemable to be brilliant – but you wouldn’t know that from how she’s been portrayed in the new adaptation.

[narrators-journal]

Step one

Hoo boy, this one is potentially dark as fuck, so remember that this is entirely fantasy. Do not think this is healthy or copy anything here.

Cw: heavy heavy nsfw. Drugging, b+e, somnophilia, Illumi gets possessive lowkey

previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi used the month or so you were closed off and mourning to try and dig up as much intimate info on you as he could, from childhood fears to how many times you've had sex. With this knowledge added to his collection, the last thing he needed to do was set up a cover story, than introduce himself. If this fails, she can be killed, or trained He told himself as he read through your social media on his laptop, ignoring a nagging sense of dread he hadn't felt since his first solo kill as a child.

The cover story was easy enough, murdering the people across the street from your home was boringly simple, setting them up to die of heart attacks and a break in, waiting out the investigation, nothing new to the assassin. By the time things had cleared up there, you were beginning to cheer up anyway, which was good, it'd be easier for Illumi to court you if you weren't verging into suicidal territory. Finally, the day came when he moved into the home, much to the teary refusal of his mother.       "I'm not leaving permanently," Illumi assured her the day he moved out, taking only a duffel bag of clothing with him, the issue was that his mother was holding him in a hug and refusing to let go. "You were so excited for me to be courting a woman, you can't sob and cling to me when I need to move out to properly 'woo' her." His voice was level and uninterested, as always, though on the inside he did feel a bit of reluctance at leaving, which was why he guessed he didn't use a lot of force to remove his mother's iron grip.        "I know, but why can't you go about the process from home?" she blubbered, Illumi's father standing a bit behind her sighing at her antics,              "To build up proper propinquity I need to be near her a lot, I cannot do that from here while also doing my work. Besides, it is relatively frowned upon for a 24 year old to still be living with their parents, so I need to have my own place for...the later portion." Sadly, even logic didn't calm Kikyo down, so Silva was forced to pry her from Illumi and simply wished the long haired assassin well as the man left. To atone for the sin of leaving the Zoldyck estate, Illumi was required to call his mother at least once a day, but other than that, he was free to live across the street from you when he wasn't working. This set up proved to be very useful, as it allowed him to linger on the street without suspicion, watch you from his windows, and it gave him more opportunities to run into you 'organically', despite having your meager outing schedule memorized already, and more. The day he moved in properly, Illumi was helping a trio of butlers move furniture in, trying to seem as normal as possible since he could see you sitting on your porch, getting some fresh air while also watching your new neighbor curiously. It's good to see her out at least, vitamin D is necessary for good health. he thought as he moved the last bit of strategically aged furniture into the home, letting the butlers return home after that. If he was to blend in, he'd have to slum it for a while after all. Though, he could put up with that as long as you stayed as friendly as you were the first night he was there. It was pretty late, the dark hours cooling the relatively warm air of the late spring day when he heard a knock at the door, but when he opened, there you were, your (h/l), (h/c) hair pulled away from your face, in a (f/c) jacket and some of your nicer casual clothes,       "Hello! I'm sorry if you were asleep or anything, but I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!" you chirped, your kind smile making something weird happen to his heart, but he hid that, not wanting to scare you by saying he was having a heart attack,      "Ah, hello miss. No, I was just trying to cook some dinner, not to worry." he assured, watching you relax a bit before tilting his head, "I'm sorry if this is curt, but have we met?" he asked, your (e/c) eyes shining with confusion for a moment before realization washed that away,       "Oh! you're the man I bumped into at that party!" he mimicked your stunned reaction, chatting a bit before you heard angry sizzling from his kitchen, the sound earning a concerned look from you. "Um?? Should you step outside?" you suggested, and when he looked in your eyes again, he saw that undeserved concern in those captivating orbs. That weird feeling returned in response, but Illumi repressed it once again,        "No, I believe that's just my food," he said nonchalantly, watching your expression change to panic, it was so intriguing to see how expressive you were compared to his family,        "Maybe you should go check on it??" you urged gently, the panicked look in your eyes compelling the empathy-less assassin to do as you said, so he nodded simply and returned to the pot of boiling water that was leaking with angry bubbles splashing water onto the burner. He simply turned the stove off and returned to you once the water had settled again. You were still there, nervously peeking in to try and check on him he assumed.        "Why didn't you come in?" He asked, making you jump,        "I-I wasn't invited, it's rude to just walk in." you pointed out, and he mentally kicked himself for forgetting that fact briefly. Though he verbally just sighed in defeat, running a hand through his long, silky hair.         "Actually, would it be uncouth of me to maybe ask if you would help me with something?" He asked, and when you shook your head he reluctantly continued, "You see, my family is rather well off, so I've...never learned to cook. Would you maybe teach me how to make the food?" He asked, and he liked to think it was the power of his natural charm that made you agree, not the pitiful mask of helplessness he put on. Either way though, you were now inside of his new home. Could this be considered a date? Illumi mused as he followed your instructions to bring the water to a boil again and put the store-bought noodles into the rolling liquid, People cook together as a date, so this should count as a date. He decided after a moment of watching you prepare food, following your orders until the two of you had managed to make a rather respectable looking dinner. He cemented this occassion's 'date' status by handing you a plate,          "It's fair that since you helped make it, you eat some of it with me." he pointed out when you went to refuse his offering. After that, the two of you sat in his living room in silence, neither making the first move to speak. For Illumi, the silence was comfortable, it gave him time to judge the weird thing that had happened with his insides. He wasn't dead, and the warm, fluttery sensation was fading, so it didn't seem to be fatal. I should get the family doctor to check me over. he decided as he ate, finally glancing over at you while you sat on the opposite end of the couch. Judging by the tension in your limbs and how you radiated discomfort, you were about to bolt like a scared rabbit. That's not good...

        "so." He hummed, hoping to ease your anxiety with some conversation, plus it'd give him a chance to dig into you, "why were you at that party?" There was a stretch of silence, your mood falling again for a moment, but than you seemed to put on a fake smile for him, how sweet.         "I'm a bit shy, so my friend decided to try and hook me up with a man she worked with." you explained, shrugging it off, "He ended up ditching me for some friends when we got there, so I didn't ask for a second date." Well of course your date went badly, you're supposed to be with me, not some stranger. a dark part of him thought, than stopped. What brought that up? I haven't even decided if she's really worth 'dating'. He reminded himself, but that possessive thought still lingered a bit more than he would've liked. However, that issue was for later, right now he wanted to see just how much information he could get you to willingly tell him.       "So, are you looking for a partner?" he asked, and he just caught a bit of a flustered epression on your (s/c) face at his question. He was beginning to enjoy seeing such an expression.        "R-right now? Um..not actively, b-but I'm not against a relationship." you said, not looking at him as you spoke, your body language screaming how flustered you were. After that, the two of you simply chatted, Illumi enjoying when you fully relaxed and opened up a bit more, but what felt like only a short time later, you were thanking him for the food and leaving for your own home. The tall man was polite back, but for the third time that night, his torso felt odd inside. He wanted to ask you to stay, maybe offer you a drink and slip a sedative into it, that way you'd stay the night, but no, he refrained from stopping you. If you drug her, she'll wake up tomorrow and be terrified of you. Maybe even call the cops. He told himself as he shut his door behind you. However, the thoughts were already there, making him groan. What is going on with me?! I'm losing control of myself so easily now. he thought, rubbing his face as if that would wipe away the bubbling waves of dark lust that were once again flooding his mind with images of you naked beneath him, calling out his name, mixing with the urge to control that he usually kept a close eye on. This is absolutely pathetic. She's not even that attractive! He chided himself, glaring down at the growing bulge in his pants as if it were to blame for his urges. Which, to a point was true, but either way it still twitched, demanding to be tended to. However, he refused to masturbate again. His sperm was precious, and while he could produce quite enough to impregnate a woman despite such a shameful act, he didn't like wasting his DNA. So, for a bit, he tried to cook up ways to relieve himself, unable to shake the lustful thoughts of you. Could he wait until tomorrow and lure you over again? No, that'd leave a horrid impression of him in your mind. Maybe he could sneak some aphrodisiacs into your food and than offer to help? No, that'd take too long, and he didn't know how long he could control his lust. Around eleven or so, Illumi finally came up with a satisfactory method. So, he turned his lights off and slipped out into the cool night to slither across the street and into your dark home. It was late enough that he knew you were asleep, so he was free to make his way in and towards your bedroom, What he wasn't expecting though, was to find you sleeping on your couch, your blanket fallen to the floor, revealing your pajamas to him. The sight only seemed to throw gasoline on the fire of neglected needs within him.       "now this is simply inappropriate," he breathed, shaking his head at your baggy t-shirt and (random color) panties, "(y/n), you should know better. Such outfits should be saved for your husband." He kept his voice low, making sure not to wake you as he chided you and his lightless eyes zeroed in on the bit of panty he could see with the way your shirt was ridden up ever so slightly. teasingly. He sighed, this would make his plan easier anyway. So, he just pulled out a needle of sedative and carefully moved you so that he could get access to your neck without waking you, sticking the needle in and injecting you with the fast acting drug. Within a few moments you were certain to stir for nothing less than a natural disaster, so he was free to do whatever he wished. The assassin's body burned with lust, his cock throbbing within his pants while he moved your thighs apart, revealing more of your panties. You weren't much to look at, he'd seen prettier women, but the feeling of your perfectly malleable thigh in his hand, seeing you so complacent and welcoming for him while his hormones were so out of control, you could've passed as a goddess in that moment. He wasted no time in removing your underwear, leaving your shirt and bra on so it'd be less work afterwards, revealing your most intimate parts to him with no arguments. It gave him such a rush to see you so obediently laying on your back, your legs apart and welcoming. your vulnerability was like a form of foreplay for him, but when he ran a slender finger up your slit and realized just how dry you were, it ruined his fantasy. Though, not enough to deter him. Instead of stopping, Illumi simply pushed your shirt up with your bra, using one hand to massage your breast while he kissed down your sternum and up the soft mound of flesh. His free hand slipped between the two of you, rubbing slow circles around your clit until breathy whines and moans slipped from your lips. Carefully, he teased your nipple between his fingers, simultaneously moving up to your throat until he found the spot that made you gasp and whine in your sleep again. The only downside was despite how badly he wanted to mark you, he couldn't. He had to wait until he securely had you, until then he couldn't leave any visual evidence of his actions. So, he nibbled and kissed the spot, but didn't bite too roughly and claim you. He simply teased you, rubbing your clit, massaging your breasts or hip, and pressing hungry kisses to your unresponsive lips until he could dip his fingers down into your warmth and pull them back coated with a healthy amount of slick. With you properly aroused, he eagerly freed his throbbing dick from his pants, giving himself a few pumps before running the head up and down your slit, making you hum at the stimulation. God, how he relished how your face twitched and you groaned at the feeling of him grabbing one of your legs with one of his hands before pushing into you. God the tight warmth alone could've made him cum, but he once again held himself back. He'd gone this far, he wasn't about to squander the opportunity to indulge himself by not savoring it. No, He simply grabbed your hips once fully inside and began moving, pretty soon slapping his hips into yours roughly. He might regret being so aggressive later, when it undoubtedly left you sore, or at the very least left bruises and scratches, but right now he just enjoyed the way your pussy squeezed around him and your breasts bounced with each rough thrust into your womb. He let out a few soft noises after a bit when the waves of pleasure began fogging over his mind again. The combination of your breathy moans, your warmth squeezing around him, begging to be filled, and the possessive urge to claim you continuously driving him forward, encouraging him to go until the blinding waves of pleasure erupted and he stilled himself so that every drop of cum was safely inside of your womb. It took him longer than usual to regain his composure afterwards, but when he did he swiftly pulled out, pulling his pants up and slipping your panties back onto you before too much of his essence escaped. He grimaced at the marks of his nails on your (s/c) flesh, though hopefully they would fade before you noticed. Right now though, his main priority was to get out of your home, and leave as little evidence as possible, save for his cum. He refused to feel sorry for filling his obviously needy wife with perfectly good semen. That's right. his wife. The phrase seemed to fit perfectly.

[theskywaslookingback]

[AO3]

“Why do you even have that?”

Sasha looks up from her laptop to give Jon a quizzical look. They’ve been deep in a research hole for hours now, Jon with his files spread out before him like a buffet and Sasha picking her way through line after line of code to access things that she really shouldn’t be able to access - although, the government should have better security if it didn’t want to get hacked so she tried not to feel too badly about it. Jon’s not looking at his files now though, his gaze appears to be drawn to her shoe-box sized kitchen.

“Why do I have what?” She asks, “A kitchen?”

“No, the--” He flicks his fingers in a vague gesture to the counter, and his eyebrows pull together in a fetching little wrinkle that Sasha desperately wants to smooth away with her thumb, “the absolutely massive thing you have taking up half your kitchen.”

“Oh!” Sasha says, and then starts to laugh.

The stand mixer is large, honestly, too big to store in the meagre storage space of her cabinets and taking up half the countertop next to the stove. It’s also a garish bright red, loud against the backdrop of beige walls and a white lino countertop. She wonders why on earth Jon’s bringing this up now, they’ve been working for hours now and this certainly isn’t the first time he’s visited her flat, and decides the answer to simply be that ‘it’s Jon, he’s probably just never noticed.’

He’s fully scowling at her now, in a way she knows is defensive. He probably thinks she’s making fun of him. He can be so sensitive. “Sorry,” She says when she stops laughing long enough to speak, “I think you just caught me off guard. It was cute.”

“Cute?” Jon starts to sputter, the tips of his ears darkening and his nose wrinkling.

He is cute, Sasha thinks.

She waves it off. “It was a wedding present. That’s one of the big ones, I think, for most people. First thing I added to the registry.”

Jon couldn’t look more blind-sided if he’d been hit by a lorry. He even drops his pen, staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re married?”

Sasha snorts. “Don’t be daft. Does it look like I’m living with someone?”

Jon looks around anyway like he’s looking for evidence. “Divorced?”

“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ with extra emphasis and grinning at the helpless confusion radiating from her friend.

“Then--” Jon trails off. He looks at the stand mixer again, like maybe it holds the answers he’s seeking. He looks back at her, and then down at his files. Suddenly his head jerks up and he says, “Wait, have you ever even been engaged?” He says this so seriously it tugs at Sasha’s heart. His eyes narrow like he’s caught her in some kind of trap, as though that wasn’t what she was expecting.

Sasha grins. “No.”

Jon looks at her incredulously, like he’s fitting together a bunch of puzzle pieces in his mind. It’s fun. Jon is so fun. “Sasha, did you fake an engagement just to get a stand mixer?”

“Yes!” Sasha slams her laptop shut and points at Jon, “But do not tell my great aunt that, do you understand? It took me years of work to get that stand mixer, Jon!”

Jon stares at her silently for just a moment, absolutely bewildered, before he dissolves into laughter, curling in on himself and digging his fingers into his sides. It shakes his shoulders and Sasha swears there’s tears in his eyes and before she knows it she’s laughing too, hard enough it hurts her chest and blurs her vision. To an outside viewer they must look positively loony. It takes ages for them to stop and gather themselves back together. Jon takes off his glasses to wipe tears away from his eyes while Sasha rubs at her face and tries to stop the giggles that keep bubbling up when she looks at Jon.

“God,” Jon says at last, “I haven’t laughed like that in--” he clears his throat, “anyway.”

“Yes,” Sasha agrees, “anyway.”

She looks at the clock and is both shocked and completely unsurprised that it’s after midnight.

Jon must follow her gaze because she hears him utter a quiet, “good lord.”

She’s dangerously close to laughing again.

Jon starts to shuffle his files away back into their folders. “Later than I thought.” He says.

Sasha hums in agreement, putting her laptop away and sorting her notes into neat piles. “No use trying to get home this late, you might as well just stay the night.”

“Ah,” Jon’s nose does that cute wrinkle thing again, and Sasha’s lips twitch, “that’s quite alright. I’m sure I can just find a cab.”

“Could do,” Sasha agrees, “but it’d be easier if you stayed. I’ve got an extra toothbrush and everything. Plus, tomorrow is Saturday so it’s not like we have to rush back to work or anything.”

Jon’s got all his things put back in his messenger bag, a solid olive green canvas affair that Sasha privately thinks is dreadful looking. “Wouldn’t want to spoil your weekend. I’m sure you have plans.” He’s stalling, looking for a reason not to go. Sasha wishes he’d just tell her what he wants.

She smiles, because Jon isn’t easy but she knows him and she likes him anyway, “Well, I was going to put that stand mixer to work and make myself some bread. But other than that--” She shrugs.

Jon’s eyes go once more to that bright red piece of kitchen equipment. “You make your own bread?”

“Sure. It’s cheaper and it tastes better.”

Jon makes a thoughtful noise. “Well, I suppose… that is, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Lovely,” Sasha beams, and then adds slyly, “I’ve even got some of Tim’s things you can sleep in.”

Jon goes properly red at that and buries his face in his hands with a groan.

-

Sasha busies herself with getting her ingredients together while Jon wakes up. Before they’d become friends she’d always just kind of assumed he’d be a morning person. He had that air about him at work, sharp and alert even when she was still trying to get her head on. The truth is that while Jon has difficulties getting to sleep, he would happily sleep until mid-afternoon if she let him, so she makes sure to wake him at a decent hour and then goes back to check and make sure he hasn’t fallen back asleep. Since her flat is basically a glorified closet, and Jon sleeps on the sofa, this is not a hard task to keep an eye on.

It takes a good twenty minutes before Jon comes and sits himself down at what she generously calls a kitchen table. His hair hangs in curls around his shoulders and he impatiently pushes a hand through it where it covers his face. He’s still sleepy-eyed, the sleeves of Tim’s jumper she’d let him borrow pooling around his hands.

“Good morning.” She says with amusement.

He grunts, flopping into a rickety chair. “Coffee?” He asks.

“All out. Tea alright?”

He nods.

“Great. Kettle is over there.” She gestures vaguely to the area next to the fridge, “Tea is top cabinet.”

Jon sighs, like it’s a great effort for him to make his own tea, but offers no further complaint as he retrieves the kettle and fills it with water.

With Jon out of the way Sasha appropriates the table for more space to set out her scale and bowls. She won’t need anything too fancy today so it doesn’t take long to get set up. She hears the kettle and turns around just in time to see Jon half-way climbing onto the counter. “Jon!” She scolds, similar to the way she would her cat when she was a child.

He freezes and gives her a sheepish grin. “You said top cabinet.”

She did, and she hadn’t thought about the almost foot of height she had on Jon. She snorts and waves him down. “Grab the mugs, I’ll get the tea then.”

He grumbles something about doing it himself but obliges, plucking two mugs from the drying rack.

“Green tea alright?”

Jon makes a dismissive noise. “Black?”

“Out.”

“I’m taking you shopping after this, Sasha James, this is downright unacceptable.”

“Yeah, sure.”

She hands him the box of tea bags and he rolls his eyes at her, muttering as he fills their mugs with water.

“Do you at least have milk?”

“Yes.”

“Thank god.”

Sasha rolls her eyes and gets back to her scale, weighing out her dry ingredients.

“Why are you doing it like that?”

“By weight?”

Jon hums.

“It’s more accurate by weight than by volume, typically.”

“You can’t just, I don’t know, eye-ball it?”

“Jonathan Sims have you ever baked anything in your entire life?”

She takes the jerky shrug he gives in response as a no. She shakes her head and dumps her flour and yeast into the mixing bowl of her stand mixer. Jon hovers there at her shoulder, watching, so close she can almost feel his breath.

It gives her a wicked idea.

She reaches a hand up, like she’s checking something, and then flicks the mixer on high.

Flour explodes from the mixing bowl in a cloud of white, covering her and Jon and the countertop.

The little shriek Jon gives will stay with her for a very long time.

“Why?” He asks, mouth agape and positively covered in flour.

“Because I knew it would be funny.” Sasha says, laughing. There’s flour in her hair, and she’ll definitely need to wash her clothes, but the look in Jon’s wide eyes and the slowly blooming smile on his face is worth it.

It takes less time than she thinks to get everything clean again, and the second time she even allows Jon to help her measure ingredients and start the mixer. He’s very serious about the whole thing, watching the scale with a grim kind of determination like it would mean death if he added just a bit too much yeast to the dough, but it’s the most fun Sasha’s had in forever. By the end of the day she has enough bread to wrap a loaf up for Jon to take home, and he looks at her like she’s just given him the greatest gift he’s ever received.

“Same time next week?” She asks as she wraps his scarf around his neck.

“I suppose.” He says, ducking his head to avoid the kiss she tries to plant on his cheek. “If you’re amenable.”

“I’m amenable.” She says, and kisses the top of his head anyway.

Sasha watches him leave and Jon turns back at the end of the hallway to wave, before disappearing into the stairwell. She laughs, bright and happy, and closes the door.

[labomi]

play by the rules [1]

Nanami Kento is a well-known bodyguard who always adheres to his own set of principles when completing a job. But when his next assignment is protecting you, he suddenly finds himself second-guessing his morals and questions whether or not some rules are just meant to be broken.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: none for this chapter, please look at the series masterlist for general content warnings

notes: i’ve been meaning to write a multichap fic for nanami for so long and i finally got around to outlining most of the story and writing the first chapter yay! i’m a little unsure if the plot will actually be good or not lol but i’m hoping it’ll turn out okay! thanks for reading!

series masterlist

There’s a distinctive knock on your door that pulls you out of your thoughts as you lay on your bed with an unopened book in your lap. You had been meaning to read the story for the past three months after seeing rave reviews about it online, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite find the energy to start reading. Every morning, you pulled the book from your shelf with the full intention of getting past the first page. But every night, it was returned to the same spot on your shelf, remaining untouched.

With a quiet sigh, you force yourself to crawl out of bed, leaving behind the comfortable warmth of your blankets. You drag your feet as you walk over to the door, dreading the imminent conversation you’re about to have.

To be honest, you’d rather he just leave you alone to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of your own room. You knew he had good intentions, but you dreaded his frequent check-ins with you. If he had no good news to deliver, you didn’t want to see him. And there had been no good news for the past three months.

You have no expectations that today will be any different.

With a hesitant hand on the doorknob, you take a deep breath and try to suppress the bitterness you feel towards the person on the other side of the door. Once prepared, you open the door with a wide grin and a bright twinkle in your eyes.

“Hi Dad!” You greet him with a high-pitched, chipper voice.

Your father looks pleased to see your lively expression. “Good morning, princess. Do you mind if I come in?”

You manage to hide your surprise. Most of his visits consist of a quick hello just to confirm you’re alive in your room, but he heads off to go back to work. If he intends to enter your room, there must be something serious he wishes to discuss. You try to ignore the small glimmer of hope that flutters in your chest. 

“Of course!” You waltz over to your bed and sit down, patting the space next to you. Your father sits on the plush bed beside you, twiddling his thumbs idly in his lap.

“I’m aware these past three months have been hard on you, princess,” he begins.

You dig your nails into the palm of your hands and bite your tongue to prevent yourself from spitting out a harsh retort.

Yeah, no kidding.

“They’ve been tough for me too.” He pats your leg comfortingly, giving you a sincere, apologetic look. “I hate seeing you stuck in your room all day, but you know I only do this because I love you and because I want to keep you safe.”

Your father’s words are genuinely heartfelt. There’s no doubt he cares for your well-being and bemoans the unfortunate situation, but you’re not in the mood to be swayed by his guilt.

After all, it’s because of him that you’ve been trapped inside for three long months.

“It’s okay, Dad. I don’t blame you.” You try your best to act like a caring daughter who wants to console her father and assuage his fears that you despise him for his actions. “I know it’s for my own good.”

Three months ago, your father fired your personal bodyguard. 

This also meant that three months ago, your father shredded your only ticket to the outside world.

You can only venture outside the family’s property lines if a trained professional, tasked with keeping you safe from potential harm, accompanies you to pre-approved destinations.

Your father worries about your safety in public, because he often does business with local mafia groups in the area. He is not an influential or well-known member of the underground economy, but in this line of work, it isn’t unusual to piss off the wrong person in a deal gone bad. Family members are the most common targets, so you are a natural choice for disgruntled clients to take their frustrations out on. 

On one hand, you believe it is unfair that you are forced to live a restricted life under the constant protection of a bodyguard because of your father. You have nothing to do with his business, yet you must suffer from the consequences of it.

On the other hand, there is no doubt that you reap the benefits from the success of your father’s career. You had never worked a day in your life and always received any material goods you asked for, so perhaps you do deserve to face at least a share of the consequences.

Your father is insistent that you must have your own personal bodyguard after an incident involving your mother that occurred when you were just a baby. There was an altercation when she had encountered one of your father’s enemies while doing some errands alone in the city.

It hadn’t ended well, to say the least.

So for three long months, you were stuck inside. To his credit, your father had immediately begun the search for a new bodyguard, but his vetting process was so rigorous that it was not a timely process. There had been some mishaps in the past with previous guardians, and your father had vowed to never let those mistakes happen again.

You know you should be grateful that your father cared about your safety enough to have a dedicated group of his team spend endless hours thoroughly investigating each and every potential candidate. You also know you shouldn’t complain about being trapped in a luxurious mansion, but you hate being at home.

You hate seeing your father’s workers around the premises.

You hate thinking about what sort of shady business deals are happening just a floor below you.

You want nothing to do with it. You don’t even want to think about it, which is why you prefer to spend as much time as possible away from home. 

“I’m so glad you understand,” your father says with a relieved sigh. “But I have some good news this time.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. The moment feels almost surreal. You had been waiting to hear those words for so long, you almost thought it would never happen.

“I approved your new bodyguard.”

This time, you didn’t have to fake your excitement.

“Really?” you gasp, looking at your father with wide eyes.

He nods at you.

Unable to contain your burst of elation, you throw your arms around your father with a squeal, giving him a fierce hug. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Your father lets out a hearty laugh, patting your back as he revels in seeing your utter joy. “He starts tomorrow, so you may leave the property again in the morning.”

In less than 24 hours, you are free to once again explore the city, visit popular shops, and stop by your favorite restaurants. You can barely contain your enthusiasm as your heartbeat drums in your chest from the rush of adrenaline after hearing such wonderful news. Pulling away from your father, you continue to beam at him, feeling an unusual wave of gratitude towards the man.

A loud beep disrupts the heartfelt moment.

Your father looks at his smartwatch with a tight frown. “I’m so sorry, princess, but I have to go to a meeting now.” He gets off the bed and gives you a small smile. “I’m glad I could finally give you some good news. I’ll hopefully see you for dinner tonight.”

Before your father can leave, you reel in your scattered thoughts after being almost too excited to think straight. “Dad, before you go, can I at least ask for this name?”

You cannot believe you almost forgot to ask such a crucial question.

“Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You nod at him. “Thank you! Good luck at your meeting!”

Alone once again, you throw yourself a little celebration which consists of childishly dancing around the room blasting your favorite “good vibes” playlist. Afterward, you grab your laptop and plop onto your bed with a satisfied grin. You crack your knuckles. 

It’s time to get to work. 

In order to maximize your free time tomorrow, you need to have a rough idea about what you want to do and where you want to go. But before you start the task, you need to make one important phone call.

“Hey, Itadori.”

Itadori Yuuji is one of your father’s henchmen, but he’s a sweet boy who had nowhere else to go when his grandfather died. Luckily, he isn’t directly involved in the main operations of your father’s business. Known for his fast feet and powerful arms, he is mostly used as a source of manual labor to move heavy boxes that are brought in or shipped out of the various underground warehouses scattered throughout the property.

The two of you had become friends when you saw him trying to sneak food out of the main kitchen during the late hours of the night. Only your family and your father’s trusted confidants had permission to be in this part of the mansion.

Itadori immediately got on his knees and begged you not to tell anyone that he was stealing food, but you just laughed and showed him where the good snacks were located. Together, the two of you had a mini feast using the leftovers from the culinary staff. It was the first of many secret dinners to be held.

“Hey. What’s up?” he answers.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Can you sneak into my father’s office and copy a file for me? It’s someone named Nanami Kento.”

There’s a groan. “Seriously? But you know how hard it is to sneak into his office,” he whines over the phone.

“I’m sorry, Itadori,” you apologize. You know you aren’t making his life any easier, but you need him to do this for you. “But I know you can do it. You’ve done it plenty of times before without a problem.”

Itadori sighs. He knows he can’t refuse you, not because he’s afraid that you’ll turn him in for punishment (or worse). No, Itadori genuinely likes you, and he’s grateful for your presence in his life for many reasons. Therefore, he does whatever he can to help you out whenever you ask.

“Alright. You got it.”

“Thanks, Itadori.”

Several hours later, a manila folder is slipped underneath your door. With a victorious grin, you grab the folder and set it on your desk. You shoot Itadori a quick text confirming that you got the delivery and thanking him once again for his help.

Quivering in anticipation, you open the folder and see a grainy, black and white copy of a man’s photo on top of the stack of papers. Even with the image’s poor quality, you can see the man’s sharp cheekbones and styled, light-colored hair. You think he looks rather handsome, but you’re not quite sure with the fuzziness of the copy.

Setting the photo aside, you read his file with an interested hum. Because of your father’s rigorous vetting process, the folder is stuffed full of numerous background reports. You vaguely wonder how Itadori slid such a large stack of papers under your door.

Nanami Kento, huh.

You flip over a page and continue reading.

What an interesting man.

“Did you finally accept a new job?” Gojo asks curiously, craning his neck to get a better look at the papers spread about on Nanami’s desk. He spots a photo of a woman among the various files that catches his attention. “Who’s that?”

Nanami rubs his face with an exasperated groan, wishing his coworker would mind his own business for once. He tries to hide the photo under other papers, but Gojo is too quick. The white-haired man easily snatches the photo off the desk before Nanami can touch it and waves it in front of him in a teasing manner.

“Nice try,” he grins, pulling back to observe the photo up close. “Oh, she’s pretty cute. I’m guessing she’s your new client?”

“No,” Nanami answers begrudgingly. He knows Gojo won’t return the photo or leave him alone unless he partakes in the conversation. “Technically her father is, but she’ll be the one under my protection.”

“Oh, so you did accept a new job then.” Gojo returns the photo with a satisfied grin now that his original question had been answered. “Surprised it took you this long to choose one. How long has it been since you finished your last assignment?”

“About three months. I wasn’t in a rush to start a new job.”

Nanami can afford to be picky about his assignments now. Over the years, he has built a strong reputation as a proficient bodyguard who always follows orders and always gets the job done. Now that he is well-known in the industry with a long list of satisfied clients, Nanami no longer has to scramble to accept any odd job. Plus, as part of Gojo’s renowned bodyguard service agency, he can rely on the secretaries to filter out any scams or seemingly impossible requests before they reach his desk.

Nanami is now constantly flooded with inquiries from influential celebrities, notorious mafia members, and other wealthy figures. These people are always willing to pay big bucks for an extra sense of security as they go about their lives, but Nanami is no longer interested in solely the money now that his multiple bank accounts are flush with cash. Instead, he wants to take it easy with a simple, straightforward assignment that won’t involve a lot of gunfire, blood, or death. 

Being a bodyguard is a lucrative career, but it is also both physically and mentally taxing.

Simply put, Nanami is tired.

This is why he waited three long months to find his next job. With each additional request, he ignored how many zeros were listed as compensation and instead took his time to scrutinize the client, their family, and their motivations in seeking a bodyguard. He had a mental image of what he was looking for in his “perfect” job and much to his surprise, he stumbled upon a request that checked almost every box.

While Nanami was lost in his thoughts, Gojo had secretly snatched your file from the desk and had been skimming through it. He couldn’t resist learning more about this new client.

When Nanami returbs to his senses, he sees the missing file on his desk and glares at his white-haired coworker. Gojo just laughs in response. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just curious to see what kind of person would pique your interest after all this time, Mr. Picky.” He purses his lips. “Hmm, she’s not much younger than us. Surprised she’s still single too. Aren’t most women in these sorts of families forced to marry early to strengthen business ties? Oh, maybe her personality is so bad her father can’t marry her off to anyone!”

Nanami rips the file out of Gojo’s hands with a scowl. “None of that concerns me.”

“Aww, come on, Nanami,” the white-haired man pouts. “You’re going to be spending a lot of time with her. What is she’s a demon in disguise? Women are pretty scary, you know.”

Nanami figures Gojo skipped the part in the file where your father had described you as a “bright, bubbly young woman who loves to shop and eat”.

“I think I can handle it,” Nanami responds flatly. “After all, I can reasonably get along with everyone except you.”

Gojo clutches his chest dramatically, acting like he had just been shot. “Nanami, you’re so cruel to me!” He then drops his hands and places them on his hips with a devious grin. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone now. Good luck! And don’t fall in love!” He lowers his sunglasses and winks. Gojo can’t help but get in one last jab to irk his coworker.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

Nanami is a serious professional, one who always plays by the rules. He adheres to a certain set of principles in order to remain successful in this line of work. Without them, situations can get messy, and he has all too often witnessed other bodyguards make the mistake of deviating from protocol and facing the consequences.

There are three fundamental rules that Nanami always follows without fail:

Never go above and beyond what a job asks you to do.

Once a job is finished, leave immediately.

Never get personally involved with a client.

And under no circumstances would he ever disregard any of these rules.

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Plus One, Ch. 2

Previously on Plus One

It oscillated every other minute between being an amazing idea, but also being the worst idea of all time, and Lexa was mostly exhausted of bouncing back and forth. It might be easier, she decided, if she just got herself on board with it being a good idea, but a deep, gnawing hole seemed to manifest itself in her gut at the very thought of seeing her ex. 

As she went through the motions of finishing the day, of doing inventory because it was Wednesday, Lexa tried not to distract herself with the thoughts of her impending trip. In just forty-eight hours, she’d be face to face with Costia, who she hadn’t seen in months, who she avoided before occasionally running awkwardly into each other at mutual friends’ events. She’d come face to face with her ex who was getting married. 

And she was going to do it with a complete stranger on her arm. 

With a heavy sigh, Lexa tossed her clipboard on her tiny desk in the storage closet and plopped down in the squeaky chair, tipping it back with a wail. Her sister was the worst. 

It was quiet in the shop, closed for just a handful of hours, Lexa always took a day to inventory and repair the damage of the week. She enjoyed the late evening work, when her workers were gone, and the shop was empty and full of dreams. No one knew how the cabinets stayed so clean, or how the scratches on table tops got sanded and fixed, or how the wobbly table by the window was miraculous cured one day, or how the ceiling fans got dusted, just that it all happened, and Lexa was off, meaning she didn’t come in until at least ten, the following morning. 

But Lexa sat in the chair and let her brain do the same mental gymnastics it always seemed to do in the new quiet she found herself craving. She opened her laptop and ignored the awaiting spreadsheet, and instead opted to look over the answer Clarke had given her to the “Know your partner” quiz Clarke googled and made them both do. A mix of basic information and Newlywed Game style innuendos, Lexa filled hers out after a bottle of wine and anxiously waited for Clarke’s. 

That was what started the daydreaming. She scrolled through Clarke’s answers and furrowed, doing her best to memorizing all that she could, as if she’d be tested on it all, as if it’d be impossible to believe she could be happy with someone like Clarke. 

And when those thoughts started to seep into her brain, Lexa leaned back again and dug the tips of her fingers into her eyes. 

In a week it’d be over. 

And with that and a deep, heavy sigh, Lexa looked at the screen again and went about learning Clarke. 

She started professionally, of course, looking at her corporate page and resume, because this was, if not anything, simply a business transaction and Lexa thought it was easier to parse a person if she didn’t actually have to fall for her. 

A graphic designer at Anya’s firm, Clarke held accolades and a long list of references. The link to her work showed a wide range of commercial campaigns and a certain amount of talent evident by her list of upcoming projects. A graduate of a small, private, liberal arts university, her academics leaned heavily scientific, which was a surprise until Lexa read some of the answers in the survey about a degree in physics given up for art. 

Lexa promised that she wouldn’t have looked at Clarke’s Instagram if Clarke hadn’t requested her first. She wasn’t someone who lurked, or at least she thought she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, digging through someone’s past, analyzing every filter and caption like a private investigator. But then Clarke appeared. 

And there were pictures of Clarke with friends getting drinks on a rooftop. And then the one with her laughing and baking. Or the Christmas party where she was on a corporate Santa’s lap, smiling so wide her eyes were shut. Despite herself Lexa found herself smiling along with the girl in the pictures. The one who went hiking with a pack of dogs, and the one who seemed to always be eating something. The one who had a lot of friends and enjoyed making them smile and laugh. The girl who posted storie about her morning run, and the girl who seemed to have a healthy work life balance. 

Lexa closed the webpages and stared at her inventory for exactly two seconds before curiosity won again and Lexa started looking at Costia’s account. There were the standard pictures of her pre-wedding planning. There was Costia working out. There was her new bride-to-be, happy and smiling at a gift for her birthday. 

And then a throwback that made Lexa’s stomach drop as she stared at a familiar image of Costia smiling in a bikini on a beach. It was from the last trip they took. Lexa was the one behind the camera. 

Three weeks after that picture was taken, Lexa walked in on Costia and a girl in the middle of the afternoon. Right in their own bed. Only to then discover it’d been going on for months. And it wasn’t the first. And then, Lexa didn’t remember much except that she moved into the apartment above her coffee shop and woke up one morning alone on sheets that weren’t familiar, in a room full of boxes. 

It seemed even more difficult to start inventory after that shot to the gut. 

But her phone went off, and Lexa leaned back in her chair after shutting the laptop again, wondering if that sinking feeling ever went away when it came to someone you love, or loved, or once loved, even for a moment. She didn’t have anything to compare it to, and she didn’t have any idea what love really was. 

It felt like a deep wound was scratched open, the scab pulled back, and a burning numbness gnawing at the bottom of her spine. It felt like it would swallow her whole, and Lexa hated, more than anything, giving anyone the power to do anything as such over her. 

Hey! Do you think this will go with your outfit?

An image came next, of Clarke in a dressing room wearing a very pretty dress, with very messy hair with her tongue sticking out. Lexa didn’t notice the gnawing feeling disappear. 

We don’t have to match completely. 

We do! Don’t you know how to date?

Not really. 

Another picture of another dress came a moment later. Clarke was pretty. She was happy and silly and kind. It felt oddly normal, for as crazy as the whole scheme actually was. 

I like that one, Lexa wrote, making sure to add a heart-eyed emoji to emphasize her point. Maybe that was flirting. Maybe she was allowed. She definitely needed more rules. 

Good, I do too. It matches your tie, you know? And these heels will still leave you a little taller than me. 

Sounds good to me!

Kind of excited. I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow. 

I’ll be the one at the bar. 

I’ve heard it’s possible to find your soulmate at the airport. Something about the crossing of paths and time and space. 

If my soulmate is a bottle of wine, then I reckon I might. 

A love story for the ages. 

Lexa smiled once more at her phone before tossing it to the side and letting her head drop to the desk. With a groan she growled into her hands and broke it down. She just needed to make it seventy-two hours. That was it. She could sleep for about twenty of those. She could drink for another twenty or more, if she really tried. 

But this was it. This was the end. 

And regardless of the weight of everything else, there was something satisfying about knowing it was almost over. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The airport was absolutely teaming with bodies and people, weaving their way through the swelling crowds, loading and unloading the terminals at a constant, steady thumping rate, so regular one could set a watch to the heartbeat of the building. 

Clarke adjusted her bag on her shoulder and tapped the ticket against her thigh as she moved through the security line. The nerves were coming for some reason. That was why she was at the airport three hours before the flight. She was anxious and needed a stiff drink and a few moments to catch her breath. She needed to escape the whirlwind she’d allowed herself to create. 

Carefully, she made her way through the airport, checking the boards and finding her way to a seat in the empty waiting room. Not even an attendant waited at the kiosk. 

Once again, she let herself awkwardly scroll on her phone, learning everything she could about her future date and weekend plans. 

Lexa was nearly non-existent online. She didn’t have any pictures of herself. She rarely posted anything on her personal account, and when she did, it was just a book or a coffee or from a trip. She wasn’t one to enjoy being the center of attention, but when it came to her shop, she made sure to post almost daily, highlighting her employees and their recommendations, she made share to highlight events, she made sure to be as active as possible. 

Anya had already warned Clarke that her sister was devoted to her work. She’d poured all of her effort into being successful and part of the community, and Clarke admired it, she just wished that there was more for her to see. 

And so, once more, she flipped back to the long line of questions they’d filled out before giving up and gazing out the window at the planes coming and going. 

For a moment, she allowed herself to think that she was doing something nice and good. It was an act of charity. It was the shake up Clarke needed and was selfishly trying to package as benevolent. 

“You beat me, and I’m usually the first one here for a flight,” Lexa observed, walking up to Clarke, stealing her from her reverie. 

“I like airports. Just waiting for true love to stroll up and introduce themselves.”

Lexa shoved her hands in her pockets, her bag balanced on her shoulder as she cautiously looked around, surveying the empty terminal slowly. Clarke watched her look around, smiled at the innocence of it. Enjoyed the way she ran her hand through her hair, mussing it up a bit and tossing it to another side. 

“No one likes airports,” Lexa shook her head before taking the seat beside her. 

“I do. They’re romantic.” 

“Romantic?” 

“You can get onto a plane, and a few hours later, you’re hundred of miles away, and it’s different weather, and it’s a different time zone. You can go to sleep in a different state. How can you not be romantic about that.”

“It’s a tin can filled with recycle air.” 

“But there are peanuts.” 

That did it. Lexa cracked a smile to herself and relaxed a little. 

“I was going to be the first one here. Surprise you with coffee, but you beat me to it.” 

“You are quite a good girlfriend. Someone clearly trained you well.” 

Lexa shook her head, somewhat bashful, somewhat reserved. There was always something right there, just below the surface, obfuscated by a kind of resolve to never give anything away, not at any price. Clarke read it between words in their texts and emails, a glaring finality in the simple pixel of a period. 

“Can I get you a coffee? Two creams, two sugar right?”

“You don’t have to--”

“It’s early and I’m trying to be charming. Allow me to somewhat repay you for this whole endeavour.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, darling.” 

With the term of endearment, Lexa nodded, grinning into her chest as she stood and made her way across the terminal in search of sustenance. Clarke watched her take out her phone, texting her sister no doubt. 

Once more, Clarke resumed the digging on her own, scrolling on her own phone at old pictures on Lexa’s profile. She was ready for fun, and she was ready to crack at that facade. 

“I don’t know if this will help,” Lexa sighed as she sat down. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.” 

“Oh this won’t be good for me either,” Clarke said as she took a sip. “I’m a fairly nervous flyer.”

“And yet you let me get us both coffee.” 

“You made a good point, and I’m prepared to be paid back all weekend.” 

With another grin, Lexa leaned back, her arm going on the back of the chair that Clarke inhabited, naturally, with ease, with a level of comfort. 

“Are you ready to tell me the story?” 

“Which one is that?” Clarke turned to look at her date, returned from an absent moment. 

“How we met.” 

“How we met,” she nodded, her smile bordering on mischievous. “That’s simple. Don’t you remember? It was a very blustery Tuesday, and I was trying to escape the wind and rain. I almost tripped coming into your coffee shop, but you happened to be sweeping, and were kind enough to catch me.”

“You’re severely overestimating my reflexes.” 

“Fine. I ran you over and we both ended up on our asses in the middle of the coffee shop. Coffee everywhere.” 

“Sounds pretty likely.” 

“And I knew right there, I was hooked. Those eyes, all angry and annoyed at me for not looking where I was going, despite my persistent defense that I’d been assaulted by the weather.” 

“Why do I have to be the angry one?” 

“Wouldn’t you be though?” Clarke returned, daring her to be contradicted.

“Maybe,” Lexa agreed over the lid of her cup, fretting with it nervously. 

“So I crashed into you, and you bought be a coffee. I turned up every day after that until I finally asked you out. You took longer than I would have liked to answer me, but I accepted it anyway, and we’ve been madly in love ever since.” 

“And when was this?” 

“About eight months ago.” 

“How’s it going so far?” 

“Splendidly. I’ve already met your sister, who it happens that I work with, which is super convenient for everyone.” 

Quietly, Lexa sat there, going over the story, going over all of the past eight months of apparent bliss in her head. Clarke watched her furrow before softening, her eyes not seeing, but rather looking through the window as a plane took off and another landed. The softening of her features was soon met with a perplexion, a slight, gentle contortion of the brow and the lips, a tightening as a kind of confusion overtook the ease of the entire story. 

“Is it that easy?” Lexa asked quietly, turning her head toward her date. Clarke cocked her head, waiting for more. “Is all of it… just… a wind? Waiting for someone to just ask you out? Is it that easy? Does that happen to people?” 

“It can. How does anything happen in the world? It just… does. The universe is just a series of things happening, all of the time, right?”

“But is it that easy?”

To her credit, Clarke thought about it. She flexed her jaw and took a deep breath before slowing letting it go as she wondered if it really was. 

“I don’t know. Maybe it can be.” 

“How?”

“I guess there has to be a balance to making things happen and letting things happen.” 

“I don’t know if I’m good at either of those things,” Lexa confessed. She sat up straighter a moment later, afraid of her honesty, and surprised more by how easily it came out. 

“I think you can be.”

“That’s probably too kind.” 

“We’ll see.” 

Clarke rubbed Lexa’s shoulder, rubbed the middle of her back between her shoulder blades until she reached the collar of her shirt, where she massaged her neck. She tensed before relaxing, and Clarke didn’t stop, just rubbed there gently, slowly until she knew it was enough and she trailed her palm back toward the seat. 

It was right there, they just didn’t know it.