#anyways this is like one of my only complaints about this show. it's still very good. please watch it if you want to.

[dreamyinwriting]

Whatever I’m still living in the (better) alternate universe where Do Hae-soo was the accomplice

[hannieehaee]

BITE

18+ / mdi

summary: keeping appearances as an idol was already hard enough, but it becomes even worse upon finding a forlorn jeonghan with need of assistance with the company's faulty security system, instantly becoming endeared with the idol who refused to take no for an answer — not that you'd ever want him to.

content: idol!jeonghan x hybeidol!reader, f2l, meet-cute, very unrealistic schedules for idols lol, jeonghan is a menace, a lot of will they wont they, reader plays hard to get, afab reader, small age gap implied, one mention of the word oppa as a honorific (sorry</3), reader is mentioned to be international (no specific race, just not born in korea), smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 11.7k

a/n: this fic is based on this scenario, except i decided to expand on it and make it into a full fic!!

masterlist | patreon

"Hey, is that Yoon Jeonghan from Seventeen?", asked Minji as she patted your shoulder, finger pointing towards your right.

"Who?", you wondered, attempting to make sense of the distressed man standing in front of the main artist elevators in the building, "Oh, yeah, I think that's him," you said once you spotted his face, deeming it impossible to not recognize a face such as his.

"Why is he just standing there?", she wondered, holding onto your arm in the affectionate manner she usually did, "Do you think it's that elevator thing again?" she faced you to ask.

"What elevator thing?"

"Apparently he went on a variety show and complained about the company's security system. It was a whole controversy, but I guess the facial recognition doesn't work for him for some reason," she informed you before chuckling at the sight of Jeonghan sighing in defeat at yet another failed attempt at utilizing the aforementioned system, "I thought it was a bit, but I guess he was for real."

"Huh," you hummed, having been unaware of the issue. The system worked just fine for you and all your members, so you never had any motive to question it. Your senior, however, had clear issues with the system. Within the two minutes you had noticed his presence, he had already attempted the facial recognition three times, getting rejected every single one of them.

"You should help him," your groupmate suggested, "I would, but my manager will be here soon for my shoot. You only have rehearsals today, right? You're heading that way anyway."

"What? No!" you declined, "I always get anxious around our seniors. I've never even met him," you added, far too shy to even face the pretty boy during his predicament.

Disconnecting from you, she grabbed onto your shoulders, scolding you, "Dude, just go help him! This is how you make connections. You give him a hand and then he gives you one back," she said, physically turning you around so you could face his direction, hands still on your shoulders, "Go! My ride's probably already here anyways. Good luck," she encouraged as she pushed you forward, making you absentmindedly begin walking towards the boy.

Taking a breath, you began to walk towards the boy who seemed to grow more and more frustrated at the faulty security system. The closer you got, the more you could hear his whines in complaint. It appeared that he had taken up a phone call during the time you'd been talking to your friend, frustratedly arguing with whoever was on the other line.

"Seokminnie, c'mon! Just come down! I'll buy you soju after practice," he whined, groaning at whatever response his groupmate had given him in return, "My manager already left ... Yeah .... No! Stop! Just come down! I'm your senior and- Wait! Don't hang up!", he groaned at last upon hearing the classic sound of a disconnected line invade his ears.

It was only then that he seemed to notice your presence, widening his eyes momentarily before offering you a brief bow to acknowledge your presence. Moving aside, he gave you enough space to stand in front of the elevator, quietly awaiting for you to utilize the security system, likely assuming you had not heard his prior predicament. He gestured for you to move forward, acting as if he were being a gentleman in allowing you to go first.

You approached the small facial recognition screen, about to scan your face before turning to him, finding the boy staring at you expectantly, "You need me in order to use the elevator, don't you?", you asked him, amused.

"Huh?", he gaped at you, tsk'ing afterward and making an odd 'Eyyy' sound, "I'm just being a gentleman. Go ahead," he gave you a tight yet amused smile.

You chuckled in return, "Liar," you were surprised at how easy it was to be informal with him, but he was immediately likable, "Ask me to help you and maybe I might," you added, giving him a satisfied smile.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I'm your senior — Whatever happened to respect?", he joked, tsk'ing at you once more. He proceeded to walk towards you, pushing his face onto the scanner and ignoring your presence altogether, "I'll do it, see," he practically challenged, attempting the scanner once more.

Unsurprisingly, he was met with a red X and a beeping sound that indicated yet another failure to be recognized by the system. This caused him to stand there in silence for a few seconds before whining 'Yah!' and cursing out the security system.

Clearing his throat, he straightened up again, facing you once more, "Sorry about that. Your turn," he gestured to you to move forward again, stepping out of your way.

Both amused and surprised, you decided to finally utilize the scanner on yourself, smiling at him with a satisfied look when it immediately allowed you in. Turning to him, you nodded at him to get in before you, only for him to gesture for you to go first. Something about 'ladies first.'

"You owe me one," you said once you were both in the elevator again, standing side by side as you faced the closing door.

"Nuh-uh. This was just a coincidence. You needed to head upstairs anyways," he rebutted petulantly.

"Yeah? So you don't need me to help you get to your floor, then, right?", you questioned mockingly, knowing he would also have to work the scanner in order to get the door to open to Seventeen's designated floor. There were far too many steps to get to the artists' floors, but it made sense to you by now.

Upon the realization, he groaned, letting himself throw his head back against the wall behind him as he earned a giggle from you. He frowned in your direction at your laugh, though he joined you with a chuckle just mere seconds later.

"Okay, fine. I owe you," he gave up, still leaning against the wall behind but turning his head to look at you, "What can Yoon Jeonghan do for you?"

You pretended to mull over it for a few seconds, finger on your chin as you thought it over, "I have no idea. I'll let you know," you finally responded, "Okay, so, what floor?", you asked as your finger moved to the buttons on the elevator door.

"13th," he responded, now casually leaning back against the wall.

"Oh? The second highest floor. You're an important man, aren't you?", you teased, pressing his button before moving onto your group's number 9.

"Nine?," he gaped, "Seems I'm higher on the company hierarchy than you, yet you show me no respect," he joked back.

"Shut up. I'm going out of my way for you. Senior or not, you owe me. Those are the rules of all civilized society," you argued back.

"Okay, how about," he began, pressing his hands together as if making a proposition, "I see you downstairs every morning bright and early with a fresh cup of coffee in exchange for your face — y'know, for the scanner. How's that sound?", he proposed, a pleased smile on his face at your agape mouth.

"Every morning? Do you not have any friends?", you asked as the elevator continued to move up.

"Do you see anyone here? They all get here before me. You seem pretty friendless. C'mon. Free coffee, good company. I'll even play one of your group's songs in my next Welive. See? Can't get any better than that," he continued to sell his idea as the elevator came to a stop, now at his floor but demanding yet another facial scan to even exit the elevator.

"God, the security's too much," he groaned upon noticing the prompt on the small screen inside the elevator, "C'mon!", he turned to you, "Try to tell me that's not unnecessary."

You gave up, nodding as you chuckled, though not making a move to scan your face.

"Say yes. Please," he dragged the e for an annoyingly long amount of time, grinning when you rolled your eyes but laughed, "I'll keep going. Just agree. What better way to spend your time than with Yoon Jeonghan?"

"What makes you think I even knew that name before today?", you challenged.

"You do. Don't lie to me, it won't work," he smirked back before going back to being annoying again, "Come on-"

"Fine! I'll meet you downstairs every morning expecting a fresh matcha in hand — I don't drink coffee. But you still owe me," you agreed, extending your hand to him to solidify the agreement.

"No coffee? Ew. But okay, deal," he returned your handshake, holding onto your hand for an annoying amount of time, pretending as if he were unaware of when to let go and waiting for you to pull his hand off yours with another eye roll. He chuckled any time he managed to get a reaction out of you, leading you to realize he must be an absolute menace to every person he comes across. Sadly, he was charmingly entertaining, leaving you with no complaints.

Finally, you scanned your face on the screen, letting him walk in front of you to head out. Before the elevator doors could close and separate again, he held his arm out to stop them, nodding towards you.

"What's your name? I like you," he said plainly, head tilted in curiosity.

"Y/N," you said, "Please don't introduce yourself again-"

"Yoon Jeonghan," he interrupted anyways, "Remember that. We'll be having fun in the near future," were his last words before removing his hand and allowing the elevator doors to separate you, likely heading over to his groupmates upon leaving your line of sight.

Silver doors closed in front of you, now leaving you to your own company. Dumbfounded yet amused by the interaction, you stood there as you waited for the elevator to arrive to your floor, robotically scanning your face on the door once you made it there and exiting the square-shaped room upon arrival. There, you stood with the remnant of a shocked smile on your face, surprised at how easy it had been to put any concept of age or seniority aside when interacting with Yoon Jeonghan. While you always had the tendency of being overly formal with your seniors, you had spoken to Jeonghan like you would any guy your age, disregarding formalities as soon as he'd spoken to you.

You didn't truly need any convincing to agree to see him again. On the contrary, had he not suggested as such, you would've remained with an itch to find a reason for a re-encounter. Like any other junior idol at a company with big names such as BTS and Seventeen, developing a slight crush on your seniors was the normalcy — your groupmates Minji and Lila had crushes on BTS' V and Seventeen's Vernon, respectively — and it appeared that you were now joining them in the list of girls with unrequited crushes.

Jeonghan was, what, maybe five or so years older than you? The age difference alone was enough for you to chalk this up to a mindless crush. That, and the kindergarten teacher voice he had put on while speaking to you — clearly he made a very obvious distinction about your age difference right off the bat.

As of now, all you could do was hope to see him again (which, thankfully, you would) and retain the fun back and forth he'd welcomed you in on. Friendzone was one thing, but junior-zone? At least you now had a story to let your members in on next dance practice.

"Hey, it's you again."

"God, announce yourself next time," you groaned, hand clutching your heart at the short-lived shock of Yoon Jeonghan suddenly bumping your shoulder whilst walking down one of the many endless hallways of the Hybe building.

"I said 'hey,'" he shrugged, continuing to walk by your side, "So, where are we going?"

"Who's 'we,'" you scoffed, "I'm going to buy lunch," you said, continuing to walk as he remained by your side.

"Great, I was thinking of getting something to eat too," he agreed, humming to himself afterwards.

"Okay, so I guess we're having lunch together, then," you hummed back, resigned to your senior's company.

"You catch on quickly, I like that," he gave you a closed-lip grin, "We're going to be seeing each other quite often, might as well start now."

Crossing the doors to the cafeteria, you headed to the lunch area to pick up something to eat, Jeonghan following right behind you and annoyingly picking out the same exact lunch as you, piece by piece. You simply looked back at him with a menacing stare, only causing a bigger grin out of him. Once you made it to the cashier area, your hand made its way to your bag with the intent to pull out your card only to be stopped by one Yoon Jeonghan who had been quicker to scan his own. You had had no plans of preventing him from buying his own meal, but you had also not expected him to pay for your own.

"Wait, you don't have to-"

"Too late," he grinned, walking past you before looking over his shoulder and nodding at you to follow him.

Heading over to a two-seater table, you followed him, taking a seat right across from him. The place was empty sans another duo of two idols eating on the opposite side of the large cafeteria, so you didn't feel too strange at the idea of being spotted with a senior idol.

Sitting across from him, you took note of how lax and confident his demeanor was. It must be nice, you thought. It was quite the opposite for you, especially considering the dynamic between you. This wad a first for you — the whole sharing a meal with a senior from one of the groups that inspired you to become an idol in the first place. You had interacted with some of your seniors before, but you had not had the chance of befriending any of them thus far, much less grab their attention in the same way you had caught Jeonghan's.

It made you feel anxious to be one-on-one with him in such an exposed setting. You knew that within the walls of Hybe, interacting with idols was not seen as odd nor would it lead to any sort of scandal, but you also worried that it might seem strange due to your gender and age difference. However, Jeonghan somehow managed to make you feel more relaxed and less proper than you likely would with any other idol.

"What are you thinking about?" he nodded at you as he sipped at his water, interrupting your thoughts.

"Nothing," you replied, beginning to pay mind to the food in front of you, "You didn't have to pay for my meal, by the way."

"You're clearly thinking about something. I can hear those thoughts cooking in there all the way from here," he chuckled, " — and I'm a gentleman and your senior, of course I had to pay," he shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing.

"Don't you have friends?", you asked bluntly, forking at your meal as he snickered at you.

"This is the second time you come after my social life, okay ... Ignoring your disrespect, I do have friends. Twelve of them, actually, maybe even more," he informs you in a 'ha, told you so!' type of tone.

Now was your turn to laugh, unable to take him too seriously, "So, does their facial recognition not work either? Are you so annoying they won't share a meal with you?," you tilted your head mockingly.

"You're better company," he shrugged at you, "Not sure how I never noticed you before, but hey, never too late, right?"

"You barely know me," you grumbled.

"Yeah, and I'm working on that. Keep up!", he chastised, tapping the table.

"You're gonna get me into a scandal for hanging out with me so shamelessly," you reminded him, but made no attempt to leave the situation.

"Who's going to see us?", he looked around, spotting the two other people (sans staff) in the room, "Hanjin from TWS? That's my junior, he'd never say a word. Plus, this is just innocent senior-junior fraternizing, don't worry too much," he tsk'd, leaning back against his seat in a relaxed manner once more.

"You're too relaxed for your own good. How have you never been in a scandal before?", you gaped at him, swatting his hand when his hand made its way to your plate, grabbing at a fry, "Are you like this with all your juniors?"

"Oh? You've been keeping up with me? How do you know im scandal-less? And nope, I already told you — I like you."

"Is it surprising to you that I'd keep up with one of the biggest groups in Kpop?," you feigned disinterest, "Okay, if you like me so much, can I drop the honorifics, then?", you tried, matching the amused grin he gave you.

"Hmm," he pondered for a moment, "I'll let you speak to me informally if you make a compromise with me," he paused, waiting for you to nod for him to continue, "I want you to call me oppa," he grinned.

His shit-eating grin reached all the way to his ears, making you scowl at him. Due to your age difference and the overall senior-junior dynamic of your relationship, it was not an ordinary request for a senior to ask you to call him oppa, thus causing his amusement at his own request. Usually, you'd call seniors like him sunbae or by their full name considering that you were nowhere close enough to him to call him oppa, but his grin told you that he'd be far too pleased to have you calling him by that honorific rather than a more formal alternative.

"No," you deadpanned, "Anything else, just-"

"Fine. Since we're officially friends now, you can call me what all my friends call me; Jeonghannie — Hannie if you're feeling particularly friendly," he continued grinning at you with a pleased look in his eye.

"Hold on, since when are we friends?", you chuckled slapping his hand away from your plate once more, "God! Was there any point in buying my meal if you're just gonna keep eating from it?", you groaned, not truly annoyed but still bugged by the man.

"You've got a short fuse," he noted, "That only makes this even more fun, you realize that, right?" he said as he chewed on what were formerly your fries.

"You're going to be trouble for me at some point, aren't you?", you wondered out loud, chuckling at how pleased he was.

"No, you are — trust me," he said almost to himself.

God damn him, was he flirting with you? Throughout the past few hours of knowing him, you'd been pretty sure he just enjoyed banter by nature, not that he was just singling you out in order to flirt with you. Maybe he was just a flirtatious person by nature? Regardless, your original statement was correct — he was going to cause you trouble one way or another.

Unfortunately to all, the rest of your day was not nearly as eventful as the first few hours (courtesy of Yoon Jeonghan). Leaving the artist designated floors did not require face-scanning, so your duties for the man ended quickly after your lunch together.

For the remainder of the day, you engaged in your diligent idol duties as you practiced and recorded with your groupmates. You'd hoped to catch another glimpse of the flirtatious boy who had caught your attention earlier, but you went home without any more contact. You would've been disheartened by this had you not known he'd be waiting for you by the elevators the following morning.

You had chosen not to tell your bandmates about your interactions with Jeonghan. Although he had been right about you being safe to interact with each other inside the walls of Hybe, you were only on your first year after debut, so the paranoia of insisting your first scandal was far too big to risk anything. Still, you were not about to actually deny him of more time spent together; you'd grown to enjoy his company too much for that.

In your seemingly endless train of thought, you're startled by the sudden presence next to you as you stand by the Hybe elevators. You'd arrived at the same time you had yesterday, assuming Jeonghan would also be present as he was the day prior. After waiting for ten minutes, you were rewarded with another mini heart attack caused by him.

"You're kinda skittish, aren't you?", he laughed, hand giving you a pat on the shoulder as a form of greeting, "Waited for me long?"

"Nope," you responded, turning to look at him, finding him holding two cups on a single, strangely large hand, "Is that my matcha?", you asked, hand reaching out to grab it from him only to be met with resistance from the boy.

"Aht aht," he chastised, "No 'good morning'? No 'you look really handsome today, oppa'? Where did your manners go?", he bit his lip in amusement at himself (and likely at the scowl that formed on your face).

"Yoon Jeonghan, if you don't give me that damn drink I'm leaving you stranded down here," you threatened, snatching the drink from his hand and sipping it with annoyance.

"You wouldn't," he mocked, "Anyways, go on," he gestured for you to step forward in order to scan your face, raising his eyebrows when you didn't make a move to help, "I can get even more annoying," he threatened.

"Fine," you grumbled, scanning your face and stepping into the elevator.

Once settled inside the small box, Jeonghan stood next to you, taking micro side steps in order for his shoulder to brush against yours. When that didn't get your attention, he opted to clear his throat, chuckling at the glimpse of an eye roll he got from where he was standing. As a last effort, his shoulder bumped yours in a more notorious way, finally grabbing your annoyed attention.

"What?," you hissed.

"Okay, first of all, let's calm down. Second of all, I need your face for a little longer today," he winced at your reaction, "I know, I know, but you promised," he reminded you.

"I never promised anything," you scowled, although interested in the idea of seeing him outside of the elevator again, "What do you want?"

"Just need to stop by to see Mingyu in floor 11 for a few minutes — Mingyu, you know him, right? All your friends are probably crushing on him, everyone is. Anyways, it'll be just five minutes and then I'll leave you alone," he went on, hand on your shoulder as he gave you those gigantic and irresistible bug eyes of his.

"What if I'm busy?", you asked, knowing you truly weren't.

"You're not. Senior or not, you would've already told me to fuck myself if I were getting in the way of your work," he said with confidence.

"Fine," you sighed as you dragged out the e, pressing the correct button in order to take Jeonghan to his destination. The elevator ride was short but taken up by Jeonghan making short quips in order to make you laugh. Unfortunately, he was too naturally charismatic for his own good.

Finally stopping at the correct floor, Jeonghan got off the elevator while you remained inside, thinking that maybe it was a good idea to just wait for him in there. This wasn't a common hour for other idols to head in or out of the building anyway, so the elevators would likely remain unused while you waited.

Jeonghan had a different idea, however, standing at the entrance of the elevator as he looked back at you expectantly, nodding his head for you to follow him. When you silently shook your head at him, he groaned annoyingly, reaching to grab onto your hand and pull you to him.

"If you wanted me to hold your hand so badly you could've just said so," he mocked, squeezing it as he pulled you to him. You attempted to let go of his hand, but his grip was too harsh. It's not that you didn't want to hold it, but more like you were too nervous to do so, which he likely caught on to but didn't care for.

"What, scared someone will see us?", he snickered, "Would it be that terrible to be spotted holding hands with me? I'd be the best dating scandal of your life," he giggled, voice growing louder when you laughed along with him, "Oh! A smile? So you do like me, huh?"

"God, are you this flirty with everyone?", you groaned, squeezing his hand extra hard until he winced, giggling at your attempt to harm him.

"You're just fun to rile up," he confessed, leading you to a door you'd never seen before, "This is a shared studio a few Seventeen members use. Ever met any of them?", he asked as he stopped in front of the door, still not letting go of your hand.

"Am I meeting them now?", your eyes widened, "We did a dance challenge with Seungkwan and Vernon, but that's it," you revealed, using the correct honorifics for both that you did not use for Jeonghan.

"So formal. Cute," he snickered, "Well, you're about to meet a few more. Don't be nervous," he started, "If you're able to keep up with me, they'll like you. You're hard not to like," he smiled in a comforting way, not snickering at you for the first time ever.

Before you could respond, the door opened from the other side, revealing who you knew to be Boo Seungkwan of Seventeen with an annoyed scowl on his face, only dropping it upon seeing you.

"Yah! Yoon Jeongha- Oh, hi!", he interrupted himself halfway through his nagging as soon as he saw you, eyes going from Jeonghan's to yours to your interlocked hands, causing his head to tilt in curiosity, "We've met, right?," he bowed, uttering your name and offering you a smile, "Are you holding her hostage?", he asked towards Jeonghan, noting his tight grip on your hand.

"This is my new friend," Jeonghan introduced you despite Seungkwan having already said your name, gesturing towards your interlocked hands, "She's helping me out lately."

Without further explanation, Seungkwan moved aside in order to let the two of you in. Throughout it all, Jeonghan refused to let go of your hand, toying with your fingers at times. Inside were three more members who you could recognize to be Kim Mingyu, Jeon Wonwoo and Lee Jihoon. As a fresh junior in the company, the name of every single senior was common knowledge to you. Not only was Seventeen a huge name in the industry, but they were one of the biggest names within the company itself. You'd also spotted their loud interactions throughout the building a few times in the past.

— This was one of the reasons as to why your heart began going a mile a minute the moment you walked in to the room to find the three men (along with Jeonghan and Seungkwan) staring at you with a curious look in their eye.

Bowing at every member, you meep'd out a quick 'hello' and stalked behind Jeonghan, who only chuckled at your shy demeanor, "Don't be shy. They don't bite," he squeezed your hand.

"Uh, Jeonghan? Do you have a hostage?", asked Wonwoo, reaching out to you to shake your free hand in introduction, "Hi, I'm Wonwoo. Sorry about him," he gestured towards Jeonghan with a chuckle.

"Your emotional support toys weren't enough? Upgraded to a human now?", Mingyu joined in, also offering you a handshake, "I saw your group's last comeback. Great job," he praised, offering you a genuine smile.

Jihoon remained silent as he sat with his eyes glued to his equipment, simply humming and nodding along to every statement leaving their lips. He seemed slightly disinterested, but not rude about it. Jihoon appeared more so amused by Jeonghan's shenanigans, not questioning your presence whilst remaining welcoming of it.

"I'm just here to record my part. Jihoon's been nagging me for a week," he whined, moving to drop himself on the couch and pulling you along with him by the hand. Your interlocked hands began to become clammy, but Jeonghan made no move nor mention to fix that, so you simply ignored it too.

"You're mean," said Wonwoo, "Be mindful of your junior, she looks nervous," he scolded lightheartedly, "You okay? Want a water or something? Did he just steal you or is there a story behind this?", he nodded towards your hands, voice soothing your nerves.

They were all overly likable, which made sense considering their decade-long career as idols. Their fan service must be amazing, you thought to yourself.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan interrupted, "I'm borrowing her face for the scanner in the artists' elevator," he explained, "It's an exchange of goods and services, no hostages here," he nodded to himself, "And we're new best friends, clearly," he grinned as he gestured to your hands, squeezing once again.

Seungkwan chuckled, "There'd be no need for that if you just rode with me in the mornings," he rolled his eyes, taking a seat to the other side of you on the couch.

"You get up at four in the morning, I'm not insane," whined Jeonghan, "and this way I get to hang out with my new friend. Win-win."

You gave a tight-lipped smile in response, rolling your eyes at him and earning a chuckle from the other boys in the room.

"You're going to have to let go of her hand to go into the recording room," Jihoon spoke up, turning around on his chair to look at Jeonghan on the couch and chuckling lowly when his reaction was an exaggerated groan.

"I take what I said back; you are a hostage. Don't leave, I'll be right back," he turned to you before heading over to the small recording room located inside the studio.

Laughing, you nodded, settling comfortably on the couch as you watched him from your spot. The other two men who remained standing made their way to the couch sitting near you as Wonwoo handed you a cold water bottle with a smile. Meanwhile, you watched Jeonghan head into the room, making his way to the mic and putting on the large headphones hanging nearby.

With a few coughs to clear his throat, he began harmonizing with the melody Jihoon turned on as soon as he stepped foot in the small room. Jeonghan's voice immediately flowed perfectly with the music, following Jihoon's directions to perfection as he recorded the lines instructed to him. You were completely distracted by the sight of him in his element that you were unable to pay attention to your surroundings. There were no nerves in you at your current predicament when you were so absorbed by him.

But as soon as he started singing, he finished, letting out another loud cough before exiting the room and making his way to your side again, practically demanding your hand once more.

"They were right," he nodded once you gave him your hand, looking down at you from your seat on the couch, "You're my new emotional support object, sorry," he shrugged, helping you up by pulling at your hand.

With goodbyes as quick as your introduction had been, Jeonghan led you to the door before being interrupted by Jihoon speaking up, "Bring her around more often. You were way more efficient and less annoying this time," he hummed to himself, laughing when Seungkwan began to laugh at his statement. Before you could leave, Seungkwan offered you a hug, though your hand remained on Jeonghan's.

Once in the hallway, Jeonghan turned to you and laughed, "They like you," he sing-sang, "Guess I get to keep you around."

"Is it up to me at all?", you huffed half-heartedly.

"Nope. Let's go," he grinned once more, pulling another laugh from you.

Jeonghan's shenanigans and your daily meetings every morning continued very consistently. It was rare when you'd show up at the elevators at the exact same agreed time and not find him there waiting for you with a drink in hand.

Your interactions only grew more and more friendly with time, with you rolling your eyes at him time and time again and him insisting on dragging you with him for other errands every so often. Fortunately, the news of you two being on friendly terms did not seem to go past a few other idols in the building. Strangely enough, it was rare to actually bump into other artists in the vast space that Hybe covered.

Only a few weeks into knowing Jeonghan and the annual Hybe Game Caterers event came up. This was something he brought up occasionally whilst sharing an elevator ride with you — and even through text every so often, as he had charmed you for your phone number just a few days in.

Being Hybe's newest group, you couldn't help the nerves you felt in appearing at Hybe's second ever Game Caterers event. With big names such as Seventeen, BTS, TXT and such, you felt completely out of your league even being present. You knew it was an amazing opportunity to get new audiences interested in your group, but you barely knew any other groups or idols on a personal level. It wasn't as if you could stalk behind Jeonghan during the event, which meant you'd simply have to rely on your own charm in order to gain some screen time.

Jeonghan, in the meantime, insisted you team up with him in any games that may allow for it. Despite your insistence that he pretend not to know you during the event, he'd cackle and promise he'd make sure to gift you some of his own screen time — how? he didn't explain, which made you even more anxious at the idea.

Once the day of the games came, you felt far more relaxed. This was your first time seeing such popular faces so up close, not having had the chance to attend any comeback shows nor award shows at the same time as the bigger names in Kpop. However, despite all nerves you could've felt, they were all far too charismatic, making you realize that Jeonghan's personality was simply an outlier; he had his own charm, but overall he was a menace to your sanity.

He continued to prove this to you throughout the event, constantly keeping his eyes on you and winking any time it was his turn to do something that might entertain you. Unfortunately for yourself, it worked every time, making you cackle at all his dumb acts for your attention.

That was not where he stopped, however. It seemed as if Jeonghan wanted people to know he was seeking out reactions from you. Occasionally, he'd walk over to your group's table, sitting with you all too casually, earning some nervous giggles from your group mates. He played this out by dragging Seungkwan with him and hitting a few other tables afterward. However, you knew his goal had been to be in close proximity with you.

The worst of all had been when teams were assigned randomly, in which Jeonghan had somehow managed to cheat in order to be placed in your team. You were unsure how exactly he had managed to do this, but from your understanding it seemed like his groupmate, Joshua, had gotten assigned to your team, only to be nagged into giving away his spot to Jeonghan.

And so now you stood in a single file line with a red vest laying on your chest, matching with that of Yoon Jeonghan's, who was standing right behind you with a pleased smile on his face.

"Jeonghan," you groaned, turning around to finally acknowledge his presence.

"What?", he feigned dumb, doing his classic cackle at your annoyed expression.

"You really want to ruin my career, don't you?", you scowled, squinting your eyes over the heavy sun shining from behind Jeonghan.

Detecting your discomfort from the sun, Jeonghan grabbed onto your shoulders, side stepping the two of you until it hit his face rather than yours. No word is uttered about his act of kindness as he continued to grin at you in a satisfied manner.

"I'm helping you, c'mon," he tsk'd, "Ever watched Going Seventeen? Well— Okay, don't make that face, I know you've seen it, all of Korea has seen it. I can win you any game and get you all the screen time possible," he held his pinky up to you, nudging you until you budged and intertwined yours with his own, "Then you'll be, uh, what are you, fourth gen?," he waited for your reluctant nod, "Okay, you'll be fourth gen's It Girl," his hand went up to ruffle your hair, earning something akin to a growl from you, "We'll be the inter-generational It Couple."

"Couple?," you tilted your head in wonder, "You're an idiot," you murmured, having a hard time hiding your smile at his masterplan.

"It was bound to happen. This whole 'will they won't they' thing we have going on is too good to pass up on," he continued, "C'mon, let's use today as a test-run," he insisted, earning another annoyed reaction from you, this time in the form of a half-hearted fist bump. With one last 'Eyyy' from him, he turned back around to pay attention to the rules of the following game.

Various games came and went, with some being in co-ed groups and others within your already-established groups, but with all of them (without fail) involving some sort of interaction between you and Jeonghan. Continuously aware of the cameras recording, you worried about how your constant interactions would be taken by audiences once the show was edited and posted, but his easy-going disposition made it difficult for you to actually do anything about it.

By the time the recording was over, Jeonghan had made it clear to all his members and yours (and anyone who was paying attention, really) that he had some sort of interest in you. No words nor statements had been needed as his actions made his intentions extremely obvious. You'd received a few teasing glances from his group mates at times (though you were sure they were probably meant for the man in question), making you shy away from Jeonghan, but he never strayed away for too long.

The aftermath of the show was different for everyone involved. Some groups left for other schedules while others went out for a meal with a few staff members. Then there was Jeonghan, who had decided to skip out on a meal with his friends and staff in order to stalk after you and your own group, not saying a word as he followed you to the entrance of Hybe, disregarding any teasing giggles coming from your groupmates. You'd occasionally look back at him, rolling your eyes at him as you held back an entertained smile.

Even as you got into the elevator, he silently followed with a pleased smile, still not speaking a word to justify his presence. It wasn't until your groupmates got off the elevator that Jeonghan actively tried to catch your attention by physically holding you back from exiting the elevator, waving your friends goodbye for you as the doors closed behind them.

With his arms wrapped around your middle, he practically bear-hugged you in order to keep you from leaving, laughing when you half-heartedly attempted to make it out of his hold in order to escape.

"You don't really wanna leave, stop fighting it," he whined, letting you go when you finally halted your attempts, groaning jokingly at his victory.

"Why'd you kidnap me this time?", you asked once you turned around to face him.

He shrugged, "I dunno. Company? Take us to my floor. I have some ramen and beer stashed away in the dressing room," he coerced, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"You're bribing me with food again," you noted, crossing your arms as you pretended to mull it over.

"Well, it appears like that's the only way to get you to hang out with me," he booped your nose, giggling when you scowled at him.

"You have that hard of a time getting girls to give you attention?"

"Hah," he exclaimed, "Girls love me. Not my fault the one I'm into needs to be coerced into spending time with me," he said as the most casual statement uttered by man.

He appeared entirely unaffected by his statement, as if this was not news to you. His flirting had gotten more and more blatant throughout the short time you'd known him, but he had never professed his affections so blatantly. It made sense for him to be so forward now that he had shown everyone his clear interest in you, but having the words said to your face still made you lose your breath for a short moment.

"Ah, speechless, huh?", he grinned, "You can't tell me this comes as a surprise to you," he tilted his head to the side in curiosity, "You're a smart girl, c'mon," he took a few short steps to you, hand coming to push your hair out of your face as you continued to stare at him with a semi-shocked look in your face.

Still inside a closed, yet unmoving elevator, you smacked his hand away in a friendly yet bratty matter, making him chuckle, "Stop, you're gonna get me in trouble," you complained.

Stepping even closer to you, he backed you against a wall, the grin on his face never leaving him. Meanwhile, your brain was overriding itself in figuring out how to react. You let him back you against the wall whilst his hands remained to his sides, not actually caging you and allowing you escape if you really wished for it. Leaning down a bit, he stood face to face with you, once again pushing your hair out of your face before running a lone finger down your cheek as he pouted down at you, cooing in a way some may read as condescending, but actually loving coming from someone like Jeonghan.

"You know that if you actually tell me to fuck off, I will, right?" he muttered, eyes fluttering for the first time ever. His eye contact was usually unmatched, but this time his eyes seemed to begin getting hooded; likely due to the proximity of your faces.

"Yes," you nodded quietly, breath caught in your throat.

"And you know if you stop me right now, I won't go through with this, right?", he followed up, face somehow even closer.

"Uh-huh," you nodded again, eyes matching his own hooded ones.

Nodding to himself, he grinned for a split second before closing the gap, soft and slow in his movements as he pressed his lips to your awaiting ones. The kiss was a mere peck at first, lacking any fluidity or movement. It took your reciprocation for it to become something more, as Jeonghan waited for your arms to make their way to his flat chest before he finally put his hands on you, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you to him.

Finally, his lips moved, opening and wrapping around yours, tongue entering your mouth and coaxing yours to play with his own. Soft yet high sighs left his lips as he hummed into your mouth, kissing you in a way far too sensual for an elevator located in your shared workplace.

A large hand went up to your cheek, holding it delicately as he tilted your face upwards in order to gain optimal access to your mouth. Similarly, your hands traveled north, finding their way to his long hair and pulling at it every time he did something particularly enticing with his tongue. Without your hands on his chest, the empty space between you was reduced when he pulled you closer in order to press your chests together, sighing when he felt your hardened nipples through your lack of bra.

Before it could go too far, however, the menace of a man decided to pull away, chuckling when you followed his lips, still in the daze he'd put you in.

"You didn't push me away," he whispered with a breathy laugh, thumb playing with your bottom lip up until you childishly nibbled at it, getting a 'Yah!' from him and another laugh.

"Count your blessings, I still could," you challenged, knowing you did not mean it at all.

"Are you sure?", he leaned close once more, "So you don't want me to do this again?" he murmured as he lightly pressed his lips to yours again, immediately putting you in another daze.

He pulled away even quicker this time around, laughing at the defeated look on your face at your lack of ability to staying true to your word when it concerned him.

"That's what I thought," chuckled Jeonghan, finally putting some decent space between you, "So, ramen and beer?", he asked, holding his hand up as an offer for you to hold it, humming with a smile when you grabbed it and intertwined your fingers.

"Ramen and beer," you agreed, unable to hold back a smile as you stood side by side once again.

"Ever gonna let me take you on a date outside of this place?", asked Jeonghan a few days after that day in the elevator.

No more kissing had occurred between the two of you, though hand holding remained pretty present in your relationship — though that was a strong word to use. His flirting continued to get worse, and so did the attention he gave you around staff and other idols, but he had not kissed you again nor had he done anything you'd expect from someone who had been quite adamant about his intentions with you.

You hadn't questioned it, simply enjoying it when he did things slightly out of your comfort zone in order to demonstrate his interest. Could you be blamed? It was The Yoon Jeonghan who was after you, after all.

But a few days had been more than enough to drive you up a wall.

Spending almost every day in that elevator with him, at such close proximity, — pondering about when the next kiss would be — was driving you insane. It was obvious to you by now that he wanted you to make the first move when it came to that area of your relationship. As far as he was concerned, he'd simply continue to buy you meals and take up your time (and mind) as much as possible.

This was why you completely ignored his initial question and rebutted with your own.

"Date? When are you going to explain that kiss?," you practically defied him, staring him down as he gave you one of his usual satisfied smiles.

"Explain it? I wanted to kiss you, so I did," he shrugged, popping a grape into his mouth before mouth-feeding you one, "If you want more of that, you're going to have to let me take you on a date."

"Jeonghan," you began, "You know we can't do anything outside these walls. If we get spotted, we're fucked," you stated the obvious.

"C'mon, just let me make you dinner in my apartment. I'll even kick Seungkwan out so we can have some privacy," he smirked, hand reaching out to yours in order to try and entice you further.

"Are you propositioning yourself to me?", you smiled at him, mouth open and tongue touching the roof of your mouth in amusement.

"Good, you're catching on," he smirked to himself, taking a short pause to cough as a way to clear his throat, shaking his head and trying again, "I meant as a date. I'm not that crude."

You sighed again, "Fine," you began, rolling your eyes at the way his face suddenly lit up, "but you have to actually make me dinner. If I show up and there's no candlelit dinner on your table, I'm leaving," you threatened jokingly, unable to picture Jeonghan hosting a date so fancy. He pegged you more as the casual date type of guy.

"Candlelit? I can work with that. Wear something pretty for me then," he added as a condition, poking you with his chopstick to emphasize his point, "If I'm making a fancy dinner, then we need to look the part.

"Okay, then wear something other than sweats. I swear I've never seen you wear anything that's not three times your size," you pointed out his usual fashion style, even referring to this moment in which he was wearing an oversized shirt and oversized sweats to match.

"I'll dress up for you, baby, no need to beg," his lips drew up into a smirk that seemed to never leave his lips for too long, putting down his chopsticks in favor of offering you his pinky, "I'll have my driver take us tomorrow after you're done at the company," he said as you linked fingers, pressing his thumb against your own.

"You better not ruin my career, Yoon Jeonghan," left your mouth, though with mere entertainment in your tone.

~

"God, you took it really seriously, didn't you?" you gaped at the dapper Yoon Jeonghan standing in front of you, holding the door open as he reached for your hand in order to let you in.

At the end of the day, your plan had changed a bit, deciding that Jeonghan needed some extra time to get the meal and himself ready for you, and that he wanted you to have time to 'doll yourself up for him' (his words, not yours). And so you went home the following day, took an embarrassing three hours to dress up as pretty as you could — as that strange feminine urge to groom yourself to perfection took over — and had your driver drop you off at the luxury apartment you knew Jeonghan and Seungkwan shared at around 8pm.

The first thing that welcomed you into his home was Jeonghan himself, except he looked very different. You had seen pictures and videos of him dressed to the nines for music videos, awards shows, you name it, but you had never seen the man so insanely put together in the flesh until this moment. Yoon Jeonghan was always a sight to behold, no matter if he was makeup-less and donning a messing man-bun, but the sight in front of you left your mouth agape. He had decided to go for a three-piece suit (too fancy for your taste, but that was likely his intent), chuckling when you rolled your eyes at the bowtie. His makeup was done and his hair beautifully styled. The jury was out on who had out-dressed the other (though it was likely it was Jeonghan).

"Okay, so no bowtie?", he giggled as he closed the door behind you, ripping it off with an ease that was only achievable due to the fact that it was apparently a clip-in and not a real bowtie. As per usual, this caused you to laugh, achieving the goal of its presence.

His hand made its way to your lower back, leading you further into his house as he walked you. It took him an appalling thirty seconds to move closer to you and whisper in your ear how beautiful you looked, granting you a moment of full sincerity with zero banter behind it.

You'd chosen to don a red slip dress, with a red lip and winged eyeliner to match. It wasn't too elegant of a look, but it was perfect for either a candlelit dinner or a night clubbing; you went for versatility, unsure of Jeonghan's unpredictable behavior.

Before you could thank him or blush at his comment, you'd completed the short distance to his dining room that had been just one room away from the entrance. The sight made any other reaction from his compliment leave you, distracting you completely.

It wasn't too elegant nor abnormal for a candlelit dinner, but it still surprised you that Jeonghan had actually followed along with what you'd meant as simple banter — he had actually cooked you and amazing-smelling dinner and lit a few candles throughout the room.

"Dude, this is too much," you gaped, turning back to him, only to be trapped by his arms wrapping around your waist. There was a pleased smile on his face at your astonished reaction.

"You challenged me," he said, eyes squinting at you, "You know better than to challenge me," it was said in a serious tone, though fully in jest, "Can I tell you that you look beautiful again, or would that be cheesy?"

"You can say it as many times as you want," you gave into him, wrapping your hands behind his neck, pulling him a little lower in your direction. He accepted this with no complaint, intertwining his own hands around the small of your back.

"God, stop looking at me like that," he groaned at the smile you were giving him as you looked up at him, his hands continuing to run up and down the small of your back, clearly picking it as a favorite part of your body at the moment.

"Why? What are you gonna do about it?", you challenged him.

"It might've taken me two hours and one extinguisher to cook that dinner, but I'd be willing to let it go to waste," he warned, front teeth digging into the plush of his bottom lip as he stared you down with defiance in his eyes.

You pouted petulantly at him, giving in to his banter for the nth time, "Oh, so you really were propositioning yourself to me the other day, huh?", you cocked your head to the side, raising your brows in challenging manner, "I thought this was meant to be a date and nothing more?"

His hands tightened around you, pulling you close enough for your chests to rub together, huffing out an annoyed breath, "Believe it or not, I don't have enough ingenious in me to keep this conversation going forever. Are you going to let me kiss you or are you going to force us through a subpar dinner I burnt three separate times?", he whined, chuckling halfway through when you giggled at his statement.

"I'm not stopping you," you murmured, leaning up and rubbing your nose against his own as if to dare him to take action.

Never a man to back away from a challenge, Jeonghan's speech ended there, closing the gap between you as his lips landed on your own with a mixture of sensuality and roughness. Loyal to their fidgeting habits, his hands remained on your hips, fingers squeezing the plush there every so often as you let out tiny breaths into his mouth.

It was embarrassing to count the times you'd thought about kissing him ever since that first time, having it invade your mind more often than not in the short period of time between then and now. The soft sounds he'd made into your mouth and the touches of his hands had been imprinted in you, making you silently and pathetically yearn for more as he continued his usual flirtations. Finally arriving at a point where he finally had you completely alone and with no distance imaginable, you let yourself go into the kiss, hoping it would go further than last time. The circumstances were more than agreeable this time around, anyway.

Seemingly, Jeonghan agreed with your silent pleas, slowly walking you over to the couch located somewhere in the large combination of dining room and living room inside his apartment. No words were exchanged, as they would've interrupted the consistent locking of lips, but your gasp was still registered by him when you suddenly felt yourself dip and be manhandled into lying horizontally on the couch.

Now lying down, it was easy for Jeonghan to truly invade all your senses. Still fully clothed, he laid on top of you, knees settling on both sides of your hips as to not lay his entire weight on you. The locking of lips did not seize, continuing as you pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt. The cocky man chuckled into your mouth at how insistent you seemed in kissing him, but that was the least of your worries at the moment. He had opted for close-mouthed kisses, making you groan at every silent denial for you to deepen the kiss.

"Stop being a little shit," you groaned when he refused to let your tongue enter his mouth for the nth time.

"You want me sooo bad," he grinned, kissing at your cheek as your eyes rolled once more.

"Are you going to be this annoying when you're inside me?," your head turned to the side, making you be the one to avoid his kisses this time around, but that didn't bode well for the boy.

"Yah," he whined, "It's not fun when you do it. Just let me kiss you," he slurred, repositioning himself slightly to let his hips find the height of your own, finally kissing you how you'd been wanting. He disconnected his lips momentarily just a few seconds after, pushing his hips against yours decidedly, "And, for the record, I'll be everything but annoying while I'm fucking you," he murmured as his last words.

That's when his kiss became intense and decided, exploring every inch of your mouth while his hips chased your own with a passion you did not believe Jeonghan could possess. He'd always seemed like the lazier of his members, like he'd he the type to lay back and unbuckle his pants for whoever was lucky enough to get him in bed. However, he had proved to you time and time again that he was actively interested in pursuing you — especially now as he held onto your legs, wrapping them around his waist to ensure his hardness could hit perfectly against the very thin cloth of the panties under your ridden up dress.

"Fuck, you already feel so good," he rasped, lips finding your neck, "Take this pretty dress off for me, yeah?", he nudged at the strap of your dress with his nose, kissing the bare skin he found there.

With only a nod and a whine from you, he got to business, hands reaching behind your back as you arched it to grant him access, blindly unzipping it and lowering the straps from your arms whilst still laying down. An uncharacteristically low groan left him upon discovering your lack of bra, making him look to you with a pained look in his eye before dipping down to kiss at your breasts.

Nimble fingers graced the length of your arms, creating goosebumps in their wake as they one of them reached your breast while the other squeezed at your hip intermittently. One of your breasts was trapped by his hand, the nipple tortured by his thumb while your other breast suffered through licks and nips from his mouth. Heavy sighs were breathed out against your tit m, mixed with the occasional groan as his hips continued canting onto your own. Your dress was uncomfortably bunching at your middle, but it remained in the back of your mind as Jeonghan occupied the rest of it.

It didn't take long for you to grow frustrated at the lack of nudity demonstrated by the man on top of you. Your hands mindlessly pulled at his suit jacket and began pulling it off, only getting it down to his elbows due to his lack of aid in removing it. Next was his button-up, which you fully unbuttoned as his lips came back up to your own, chuckling at your insistence. Once almost undressing him, he finally disconnected your lips, hastily throwing off his top and unbuttoning his pants. He looked down at you with heavy lids as he pulled his pants low enough to uncover his thighs and remain in nothing but his boxers. Next came your panties, which he slowly traced his the tips of his fingers, toying at your puffy cunt through the fabric long enough for you to release a few tortured whines.

"Jeonghan!", you scolded, getting a snicker from him before he actually aided you in the removal of your panties. Lifting your hips, you silently instructed him to throw off your dress the rest of the way, now fully nude under him.

The last piece of clothing separating you were his boxers, much to your despair. Your ached to reach up to a kneeling Jeonghan who continued to stand almost completely still above you, hand pressing at his cock through the cloth as he peered at you as if he wanted to swallow you whole.

"Are you going to do anything?", you complained from under him, hands attempting to reach his cock but being prevented by him, too occupied in taking you in to allow you to touch him.

"I'm enjoying the sight," he hummed, eyes taking turns between your open legs, damp breasts and desperate eyes, "God, I don't even know where to start," he groaned, sounding genuinely pained.

Pained? You could work with that. Maybe this was your turn to tease him as he always did ti you.

Sitting up as best you could whilst under him, you reached up to him, running your hands from his pelvis to his chest, fingers shyly pinching at his nipples. Your mouth found his neck, licking its way to his ear to nibble at the lobe. Within seconds Jeonghan was putty under you, with one of his hands wrapping around you to pull you closer. You kissed sensually at his ear, whispering unspeakable filth into it that had him groaning. Tilting your head to the side, you took a peak at his face. He had a satisfied yet pained look painting his pretty features. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth agape, hiccuping a groan at your words.

"Should've known you were filthy," he grunted, burying his face in your neck, helping you back into your lying position so he could truly bury himself in you, "It's in your eyes ... Always looked at me like you wanted me to take you right in that elevator," he added, hands coming down to messily rid himself of his boxers.

His hips were leveled with your own, almost touching your cunt but not just yet. Without thinking, you canted your hips upward, managing to get his hardness to grace at your cunt just perfectly. This drew a matching groan from both your lips, making Jeonghan cough halfway through his dirty talk.

"Oh, you're that desperate? Okay, pretty, I'll fuck you. Don't need to beg me so much," he mocked, positioning himself to finally enter you, but unable to help himself in teasing your clit with his tip for a few moments in order to draw just a couple more cries from you. With a chuckle, he finally began entering you, gasping a silent groan at the feeling of finally being enveloped by you.

"God," he grumbled, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure, "Tell me when I can move," he practically pleaded.

"Just move," you whined, "It's already good."

Your green light was all he needed to begin pumping in and out of you, gasping out praise every so often. His hands remained on your hips, squeezing at the skin whenever it felt extra good to fuck into you. Clammy skin and lewd sounds of slapping took up all your senses, making you almost miss Jeonghan's words as he began low rambles into your ear.

"Do you even know how long I've wanted you?", he started, breath heavy against your ear, making you want to bury yourself in his skin, "Always wanted to talk to you, but- fuck- but the guys told me I shouldn't as- as your senior," he stuttered in between groans, "But I couldn't let my chance pass when you helped me that day ... We just clicked," he confessed, groaning loudly when you tightened at his unexpected confession.

"Han ...", you sighed, gripping his shoulders as if your life depended on it, "I, fuck, really?"

He nodded against you, kissing the skin he could reach, "I like you so much, you have no idea," he continued, speeding up his hips, "Tell me you like me back," he whined with a bit of humor in his voice. It was impossible for him to let things become too serious for too long — something you really liked about him.

"I like you, Hannie," you humored him, using the nickname he'd asked you to use all those weeks ago, giggling in between sighs of pleasures when he groaned at it.

"Don't call me that right now, you're so mean," he whined, biting lightly at your skin in defiance, "I'm trying to make this fun for you."

"Then keep fucking me," you insisted, "Hannie," you couldn't help but add with a girlish and exaggerated moan.

"You're provoking me? Really? Again? Okay, brat," he huffed, hands finding the back of your legs to wrap them higher on his waist, ensuring his cock could now piston in and out of you in a way that had your eyes rolling back.

Despite his lazy persona, he was a beast as he fucked you, specially after you'd invoked that bratty side of him that couldn't allow you to out-brat him. It was toe-curling to think about how having you under him provoked this side of him to come out; the side that made him lose all inhibitions and break him down to his most animalistic desires as he fucked you. Any lack of energy was replaced by a stamina that made the slapping of skin so embarrassingly loud you couldn't help but blush. That, combined with his nonexistent shyness in letting out every moan threatening to leave his lips made it the most pleasurable experience for you.

"Sound so pretty ... You're driving me crazy," he grunted in a pained chuckle, "Gonna make me cum ... Fuck, come with me? Yeah, pretty? Need to feel you cum around me before I fill you up," he rambled, hand suddenly sneaking between your bodies and attacking your clit without any warning. You could no longer banter with him, too drunk on the feeling to vocalize anything other than mewls of pleasure.

Jeonghan's hips combined with the feeling of his fingers assaulting your clit were all you needed to lose yourself to your orgasm, almost dragging him down with you as you tightened around him.

"F-fuck, you're cumming? Is it that good, baby? Shit, took it so good for me, hmm?", he continued talking you through it, humming back a groan when you tightened just enough for him to reach his own high, "O-oh, God ... C-cumming, shit. Where?", he was frantic in asking, his gigantic eyes growing two times bigger as he looked to yours for guidance, eyebrows furrowing further at every passing second his orgasm threatened to take him down.

"Inside, H-hannie," you sighed out, mellowing out from your former orgasm. Another whine exited your lips at the breathiest cry leaving the pretty boy above you, whining out desperate praise at the privilege it was to cum inside you. It was likely Jeonghan knew about the birth control idols were usually put under, but his reaction told you he was appreciative nonetheless.

"So fucking good .... God, you're so good, so pretty, so perfect," the praise was endless, making you want to be the sole cause of his pleasure until the end of time.

Once finally emptied out, his energetic persona died out quite quickly, instantly morphing himself to your side as he nudged you aside to make space for him on the couch. Being large enough to fit you both, you snuggled together, Jeonghan nuzzling that pointy nose into your hair as you two regained consciousness. It was amusing how easily he morphed into his usual touchy and lazy persona just seconds after fucking you an inch of your life.

"Hmph," he hummed into your skin, nuzzling so much it seemed he was trying to enter your skin, "You're soft after sex, y'know that?", he thought out loud, leaving mindless kisses behind.

"You're so weird," you huffed, jokingly pushing him away but adoring the warmth that pooled in your heart at his whine in complaint, accompanied by him pulling you even closer.

"Yeah, but you like me weird," he reminded you.

You allowed a beat or two of silence to consume you before turning further toward his side, cuddling into him in as the comfort between lovers after sex invaded the room.

"Did you mean what you said?"

He hummed questioningly, too lost in the comfort to think back to what you meant.

"Did you like me before we met in that elevator?", your voice was meek, reminiscent of those mere five minutes of shyness you felt when you first met Jeonghan, soon overtaken by the natural comfort his presence brought upon such a short time.

"Yeah," he stated simply, "Seungkwan sent me a video of your group covering one of our songs in your debut showcase and I thought you were cute," he chuckled fondly at the memory, "Then I saw you at the company a few times and thought you were the cutest thing," he booped your nose annoyingly, "I wasn't planning on doing anything about it, but like I said, we clicked. You looked shy, but the moment I spoke to you, you were fed up of my shit. I liked that about you," he hummed.

You couldn't help laughing at that, "You liked me because I was rude to you?"

"I mean, it's not often that my juniors speak to me like that. It's always so formal," he blegh'd in an exaggerated manner, "I can't really explained it. It was just a gut feeling, y'know?"

You thought back to how comfortable you felt in his presence that first day, nodding in agreement, "Yeah, I know," you smiled as you reached over to find his lips, pecking them sweetly.

"Dinner's probably gone bad by now, by the way," he spoke up after the kiss, guiding your hand to his head for self-indulgent scratches.

"You didn't actually invite me over to have dinner," you reminded him humorously.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I didn't."

to read short 2.4k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, lots of banter with the rest of seventeen, jeonghan is bullied by you and his members, mentions of oppa (only once and in a teasing way), small age gap, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1004 (teaser); 2484 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"You're going to get me in so much tro- Stop!", you couldn't help the girlish squeal that left your mouth at Jeonghan's careless roughhousing.

His hands wouldn't leave your waist, glued to the dip of your waist as he followed you around Seventeen's floor as you attempted to leave.

After the ruse to keep you around for his elevator rides died down, now becoming Jeonghan's official girlfriend (his words), the menacing boy continued to play dumb, insisting that there was just no one else he entrusted with the task of helping him up and down the elevator. It was a dumb inside joke between you, but it made your insides giggle like a madwoman every time you thought about his insistence to keep you around as much as humanly possible, even now as you engaged in a formal and exclusive relationship.

Hanging out with him in the comfort of your group's floor was fine. Your group was a mere few months old, meaning there wasn't too much traffic from other groups or any outsiders there. However, the halls of Seventeen's floor always made you nervous. You always insisted on being behind closed doors when it came to Jeonghan's floor, knowing that Seventeen were incredibly popular, which resulted in their floor of the building being far more trafficked than your own.

As far as you were aware, only your respective groups, managers, and a few staff members were aware of your relationship. Many simply assumed there was something going on, but due to any lack of announcement of your relationship, there was no way to confirm it. That, and the many people who ended up shipping you after the release of Hybe's Game Caterers due to how insistent on sticking by your side Jeonghan had been during recording (damn you, Yoon Jeonghan).

"Bunny, c'mon," he whined, nuzzling his head in your neck as you continued to walk down the hallway, attempting to reach their practice room, "What's the point in dating if I can't even enjoy you at work?", he protested, feet bumping into yours due to the continuous proximity between your bodies.

"Han, if someone catches us-"

"I don't care. You know that," his touches finally halted as soon as you made it to the door, holding it open for you in a classic act of gallantry often displayed by him. It was always unspoken and casual, but you came to learn that Jeonghan was naturally caring for those around him, especially you. Doors were opened, oranges peeled, laces tied, you name it.

"Sure, you don't care," you started, crossing the small dressing room that connected the hallway and the practice room, Jeonghan behind you, "You're like fifty, you've been in the industry forever now. A measly dating rumor with your junior would do nothing to your career. I'd get accused of sleeping my way up and fuck everything up for my members," you argued back, not seriously mad nor argumentative, just continuing the thread of conversation.

Finally in the practice room, Jeonghan gaped at you, amused yet offended, "Fifty?", he gasped, getting the attention of a fellow Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan who just so happened to be sitting by nearby, "You're calling me old? I'm 28!," he insisted, whining at you and pulling at your arm as a child would.

Feigning annoyance, you held in your laugh at his childishness, knowing that this was always the result any time you attempted to tease him back. Before you could retaliate again, you were interrupted by the other men present in the room, having interrupted whatever conversation they were having with Jeonghan's loudness.

"You're the most lethargic man I know," said Chan with complete seriousness in his face, causing Seungkwan to burst laughing.

Dokyeom seemingly compartmentalized out of nowhere, also joining in as he crossed the door you'd just come in from, close enough to have heard the conversation, "Cradle robber," he teased as he walked by, sticking out his tongue at Jeonghan as the elder did it first.

Jeonghan gaped at all four of you, exasperated in his response, "We're like five years apart!," he whined in reference to your age difference, "If I'm lethargic, then what are you?", he yelled, pointing at Seokmin who had already walked away, still grinning in satisfaction at Jeonghan from his side of the room, beginning to join other members in their stretching.

Laughing throughout it all, you relished on Jeonghan's members ganging up on him, knowing it was usually him who teased the others. Ever since your relationship had become official, you spent more and more time around his groupmates — groupmates who found great enjoyment in teasing him over your relationship. You were never the butt of the joke. On the contrary, they'd encourage you to join in, knowing you were Jeonghan's one and only weakness.

Suddenly, Jeonghan turned to you, annoyed scowl on his face, "You! You don't get to join in and mock me. They're insulting your boyfriend, defend me!", he demanded, pouts and whines never leaving him.

You huffed, "Why should I defend you? I'm your junior, oppa," you used that term very strategically, only ever saving it to tease him or make him embarrassed in front of whoever was around.

Seungkwan all but cackled at the way Jeonghan stopped his annoyed rambling with a swiftness, gaping at you with his eyebrows all the way to his hairline. His mouth opened and closed, likely pondering a comeback for you. Within the short time you'd dated, Jeonghan's insistence that you call him by the correct honorific only got worse, but your denials remained. You calling him oppa at this moment meant only one thing to him: You wanted war.

Without further words, he grabbed you by the wrist, ignoring your surprised yelp as he pulled you with him towards the door you'd barely crossed mere minutes ago. Not really fighting him, you stumbled as you trailed behind him, waving a quick bye to his friends while Seungkwan whined at Jeonghan for his sudden exit.

...

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[tadpolesonalgae]

Bound And Discarded To Be Treasured And Known[*]

Azriel x reader

Day 3 of @acotar-omegaverse-week — All Tied Up: Oh, you’re tied up so you don’t do anything you’ll regret during your heat? Would be a shame if someone… came along and messed up that plan for you :)

a/n: my eyelids are so heavy—most of this is proofread but there are sections I’ll be checking over come morning

Warnings: smut; pussy-eating; technically dubcon since reader’s in heat; overstim?; bdsm themes; cockwarming; knots; soft Dom Az?; fluff; they’re kinda adorable; very light breeding kink; implied incorrect use of a dagger’s hilt

word count: 6,507

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“I could show you, if you’d like…?” 

Pause. 

Steady…

Deep inhale.

Okay, resume. 

Your throat rolls, wetting parched lips with a flick of your tongue as your eyes momentarily drop away from the alpha’s hazel set. There’s nothing inappropriate about what he’s offering, and yet… 

And yet.  

And yet your toes are curling in your boots and there’s molten syrup stirring in the pit of your belly. Any kind of heat is far from normal, living up here in the desolate Illyrian Steppes, and the kind that’s gently simmering within your abdomen is as normal as spotting two suns in the sky.  

“You mean…now?” That’s definitely a hint of breathlessness in your tone. A puff of mist uncurling from your lips and carried away on an icy wind slicing between you. 

Azriel rolls his shoulders carelessly, though you doubt he so much as glances about without intention. Pointed; decisive; certain. Centuries worth of lived experience and warrior training under his belt. Is there space for you to slip in, too? 

“We could meet tomorrow, if that would work better for you?” Hazel eyes rest over your features, his irises set and still. Taking you in like an expert sommelier, savouring his time distinguishing the floral notes from the bitter or sweet undertones. Swishing you around in his glass before tilting the flute upright and letting you flow across his tongue. He clears his throat. “After training, I mean. One requires a flight back up, so I’ll be here anyway.” 

“I’m not sure,” you hedge, teeth clasping at the interior of your lower lip, glancing away from what feels like an all-knowing gaze. “Starting next week I’m going to be pretty busy…”

“Busy?” Something in Azriel’s eyes changes. 

“Right.” You nod. “Baeril is flying North for a week so I’ll be cleaning things up while I have the chance.” But there’s no way he didn’t already know that. It was the General who gave him that task. Also the reason his mood has been so poor lately, given your heat is supposed to… 

You swallow, pushing the thought away. 

“I see.” The alpha before you dips his head once. “Another time, then.” He takes it smoothly, without complaint; you wish Baeril was more like him. If only he could have half the composure Azriel has, things would be significantly better. As it is though Azriel’s head dips slightly, lowering his chin to look properly at you, a smile softening the edges of his mouth. “May I walk you back?” 

You allow yourself to return his smile but it lasts for less than a second, realising where you’re going back to. “Thank you. That would be lovely.” 

“My pleasure.” 

————

There are no lingering touches on the doorstep of your home. No wash of heat where he’d usually wrap you to his chest, nor a last surge of warmth before the cool creeps in and you’re returned to the dim dampness of your house. Instead you give less than a tight smile, and it seems even Azriel’s lips contain ounces of strain as he yields you once again. 

Returning you to your husband’s uncaring grip. 

————

Busy, she had told him. Busy cleaning the house. 

Azriel knows her husband has been sent off to check in on his relatives throughout the inner camps, so by all means she should be going with him. Not that he’s complaining that her husband might be loosening his grip on the treasure that is his wife. Azriel’ll happily swoop in the moment he senses an opening. It’s not like he’s made it this far through hesitating. 

Though it is out of character for her husband to leave her. While there’s little romance between them, there is still possession. So why leave her? 

————

It’s been two days since her husband had initially set off, and three days since he’s last seen her. Ordinarily Azriel would have no cause for concern—there are days when one of them is busier than usual—but this is preciously unregulated time with her husband entirely out of the picture. 

Not that he’d had plans. The closest he’s gotten is a late night a month and a half ago, the sky having fallen to a dusky blue and the air containing the evening scent of woodsmoke. There’d been a celebration amongst the male Illyrians, cause for bonfires and ale and mead, salted meats with rosemary and indulging in crisped potatoes the size of one’s fist. Her husband had been out and both of them had known he wouldn’t be back for while. 

His fingers had found their way to her cheek, pushing at a stray hair, and then her eyes had fluttered shut. Her hands had been clasped before her chest and her chin had lifted ever so slightly. Then his head had dipped but their mouths barely even touched before a stray breeze had her eyes snapping open, a look of peril on her features. She’d taken a step back, and then another, and then she’d been muttering an apology under her breath and turning for her house. 

They haven’t spoken of it since. 

Azriel had thought he might have a chance to bring it up when he saw her next… Is she avoiding him? The thought doesn’t sit well in his gut. Surely she would have no reason to. And yet, as far as he can tell, she would’ve had no reason to pull away the night he almost kissed her. 

Wings shifting once at his back, Azriel steers his course to pass by her house. Evening is swiftly setting in, and if he isn’t quick he’ll miss his chance for the day—even he can’t deny it would be inappropriate to call in after dark, knowing she was on her own, and Azriel doesn’t want to bring any more trouble her way. Light is fading, the temperature steadily dropping with the dwindling of the sun, and the war camp is quiet as it hasn’t yet reached time for the males to sojourn down to an inn for post-dinner chatter. 

Her house is the one at the end of the street, plenty of space kept between builds to allow room for gardens where veg will spring in the summer. There are no lights on that he can see, windows dark and seemingly empty. His brow furrows. Did her husband have a change of heart and bring her along as a last minute decision? Surely he would have known. 

Keeping his pace steady, Azriel sends his shadows far on ahead, letting them curl around the back of the house, peering in dark glass to a darker interior. Empty. Strange. Surely, Azriel would have known if she’d ended up going with him… That’s her dressing robe hanging from the door; all her shoes by the front entrance, tucked between her husbands boots; the fleeced cloak she would take if she really was to travel deeper into the brutal terrain further north. Hair prickles at the nape of his neck. 

Azriel allows his shadows to sweep the area, senses on high alert as he scans for any watchful eyes. When he finds none, he walks to her front door. 

Locked. That’s fine.

Keeping his shadows aware, he calmly walks to the side, finding the large windows that let light into their living room—large enough for him to climb through, once the latch is…perfect. Shadows slip between the wood holding the glass and flip the latch open, pushing the windows ajar. 

No sooner than he’s inside, a thick scent nearly chokes him, so concentrated and sweet he has to cover the lower portion of his face at first. The window clicks shut, and hazel eyes scan the vacant interior of their sitting room. Nothing is out of place, no shattered vases or broken plates, no blood stains on the floor, but that scent. Cautiously, Azriel sniffs once, bringing it into his lungs, filling them up and spreading into his bloodstream. Whatever is producing that smell, he can feel as it courses through his body, pulse kicking up. It’s unusually hot for a house built in Illyria. It should be much more draughty, not toeing the line of sweltering. Where’s all this heat coming from? 

Not hearing any approaching footsteps, Azriel enters further into the enclosure, keeping his shadows ahead of him, patrolling corridors and doorways to keep himself hidden. 

The scent builds, so dense he wonders if he’s even breathing air anymore or whether it’s pure… His tongue shifts in his mouth, throat rolling. His mouth is watering. 

Azriel stiffens. 

An increase in temperature. Prickling skin. Excessive working of salivary glands. Blood rushing with increased fervour. …This strangely sweet scent. Azriel inhales sharply, a faint tremble in his knuckles as he wraps his hand around the bedroom’s door handle. The door opens. 

Azriel’s spine turns rigid…the scent is so much stronger. So strong his head is hurting.

But then his eyes find the bed, and his thoughts eddy away. 

Her wings are bound at her back, rendered immobile and useless; coarse, thick rope has been tied around her wrists, wrapping around her forearms so they’re pulled together at the base of her spine, so tightly snared her shoulders are taut where they’re being wrenched back from her chest; darkened fabric has been tied at the back of her head, biting into her cheeks where it’s been slipped through her mouth, wet with saliva; rope has been wound around her ankles, knees, and thighs, making it impossible for her to move save for light circles of her hips. 

The scent is coming from her. 

She’s gone into heat. 

————

How much longer? How much longer until it’s over? 

You can’t even rub your thighs together from how closely they’re bound, not even an ounce of friction to soothe the aches riddling your body. Your arms have long since turned numb, though the edges of your mouth are rubbed raw and sore. Heat swelters beneath your skin, temples dewy and a thick gleam coats your body where sweat has permeated through the pores of your flesh. 

It’s pure hell. 

Exactly what Baeril had intended when he’d tied you up before departing for the innermost camps set up in the frozen mountains of Illyria. After all, he wouldn’t be able to be with you after the task he’d been assigned with would take up almost all of his time, and if he was going to have to suffer through the absence of sex, then he was going to make it ten-times as torturous for you. No romance, no love; just pure possession. Your pleasure is something of his—something he wouldn’t allow you to have unless it was from him. 

A floorboard creaks behind you, and you whimper into the rag. Is he finally back? 

Your hips wind in a circle, weakly shifting in the bed as you try to do whatever you can to lure him closer, to relieve you of the ties, or at least remove the ones from your legs so he can slide between them. With the angle of your head on the pillow you can’t see him, but you try to lift onto your knees only to find yourself too weak to manage anything more than raising an inch from the mattress. 

The slicing of steel through coarse strands of rope snickers through the room and you find your ankles free, circling your feet as they tingle with feeling. You whine into the rag, squirming desperately beneath your bonds. Your knees part next, and the waves of heat increase the more freedom you’re allowed, the closer you come to being able to move and receive. A rough hand wraps around the top of your thigh, holding you in place as the blade slips beneath the rope, severing the final tie.

With a pained whimper, your legs press together, managing to half-roll onto your side, thighs rubbing against one another to invite more of that delicious heat to gather. A calloused palm wraps around your upper arm, probably to sever the ropes binding your upper body but you shift before he can continue. 

You don’t need any more freedom—you just need him to fuck you. 

————

Azriel’s back teeth might split beneath the tension that’s clenching in his jaw. 

Now her legs are free, she’s managed to work herself into what she deems an ample position: knees pushing into the cushioning of the mattress a little further than shoulder width apart, her spine curving to invite him closer, face pressing deeper into the pillows. He can’t imagine the rope around her wings or arms being anything less than painful, but it seems her heat is taking priority. 

He could instruct her to lie down, to let him cut the ropes on her body, but he doesn’t want to alarm her. She’ll be expecting her husband, not him. What if she doesn’t want him now she’s in heat? Fuck, they haven’t even had their first kiss, and yet he’s on his knees behind her and trying not to think about how perfectly they’re aligned. All he’d need to do is push her dress up, loosen the ties of his leathers, and that would be it. 

The only problem is that it would be unforgivably wrong. 

Her legs are open, her hips circling faintly, needy sounds pouring into that gag, but none of it is for him. He needs to cut her free. 

Gritting his teeth tighter, he leans over her enough to slide the cold steel of the blade between the first three coils of rope, severing them like fabric scissors through silk. No sooner than her arms are freed, her legs have wrapped themselves around his hips, her left shin and foot wrapping around his back so she can haul her right to lock at his back. Muscles flex in her wings as her arms push beneath her, lifting herself up as she squeezes with her legs, aligning his hips with her centre, thighs working to keep them flush tight together. 

Azriel exhales harshly, his palms working to disentangle her legs from his waist but it’s like she’s locked in, having grown impossibly strong in order to gain what she wants. She squeezes him once more, and her grip is tight enough he’s pulled forward, hands slamming down either side of her in the mattress, narrowly avoiding knocking her wings. 

He can hear the whimpers stuck in her throat, the way her body is shifting beneath her own, and he forces himself to get a grip. He has to keep steady. He’s working to help you, not take advantage of you. Shadows curl, and he retains enough control over himself to have the steel blade slicing through the ropes around your wings before pushing himself away, ripping from your grip. 

A pained noise moans from behind the rag, and Azriel watches as she tries to weakly shift upright, her upper arms shaking as pheromones filter through the already thickly sweet air. His mouth opens in preparation to explain, but she’s already turned around on her knees, fingers splayed delicately between the sheets, her pupils dilated and lips parted as they try to work around the gag. 

Both of them freeze when their eyes lock, neither having been prepared for the current situation. 

————

Azriel. 

His name alone provides more comfort and relief than you’ve received in the past week, a cool sweep of lightheadedness coursing through your body. 

It’s Azriel, and everything’s okay. 

You manage to sit back on your knees, hands trying to release the gag from your mouth and you could cry from frustration when your fingers fumble, being unfamiliar with whatever way he’d tied the pieces together. 

Azriel’s throat rolls once. “Here.” He says. “Let me.” 

Your hands fall away, shuffling closer so he can work on the tie. Your chest rises up and down, eyes flitting from his dilated hazel set to the inviting heat of his soft mouth, how good his lips will feel. 

The gag loosens, and Azriel meets your gaze, a deep apology already held on the tip of his tongue. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice thick and heavy, scratching at your ears, “I’ll find you some medicine, just—” 

Your arms lock over his shoulders, flinging your weight into his chest, mouth colliding with his own. Gods, if your eyes were open they would have rolled to the back of your skull, indulging in the heaven of his hair between your fingers, soft and smooth and silky. Clean and taken care of. Need pounds between your legs, pressing your hips tight to his front as your nails scrape up the nape of his neck, scratching just beneath his jaw as your teeth tug on his lower lip, dragging on it sultrily. 

Hazel eyes widen by an almost imperceptible margin, fingers enclosing around your wrists but not yet making any moves. Caught between pulling you away and pushing you into the bed.

“Azriel,” you pant, retracting enough for words to narrowly fit between your mouths. A shudder of pleasure zips up your spine from the taste of his name, a flutter of arousal spasming in your lower belly. “Azriel…” It comes out more high-pitched the second time, more desperate and hoarse. What a state you must be in. How long have you even been lying there? 

You don’t think about it. You just want to taste his name once more. 

But, “Wait,” he instructs, forcing himself to retreat. A noise of pure pain breaks from your chest, nails finding purchase in his well-muscled shoulders, trying to keep him from leaving as you shake your head. “Azriel, please. Please don’t…” You stare up at him, palms gripping onto him in supplication. “Please…” Hot water drips down your cheek, overwhelmed by wild hormones gushing through your bloodstream, making everything too much and so, so, confusing. 

“I just need to find you medicine,” he tries to reason but you can hear the unsteady inhale of breath, the heightened staccato of his pulse. “Then you’ll be thinking clearly again. A little.” 

“Fuck me,” you breathe, ignoring what he’s trying to tell you. “Please.” You push your bodies closer, certain he’ll be able to feel the full press of your breasts to his chest, the inviting softness of your body and… Your mouth opens in a moan when you feel the hard outline of him digging into your lower stomach. That needs to be inside of you. Right now. 

“I can’t,” he whispers, his eyes shining at the hurt you’re clearly experiencing. “I— That would be wrong. Let me find you—”

“There’s none in the house. No one will have any up here. It’ll take hours. Help me.” You don’t know where the reasoning comes from, but maybe the desperation is making your mind work more efficiently to provide a succinct, compelling argument. “You know me. I want you. I wanted you before this. I’ll want you after. Please.” 

“Are you—”

“Yes. Please.” 

His wings have lifted at his back—perhaps he’s not even aware of it himself—looming over the broad set of his shoulders, and you just know you need them to be flared while he’s on top of you. Holding you down in the bed. His weight keeping you pinned. 

Then you’re being forcefully pushed down into the mattress, his mouth atop your own, and heat bursts throughout your body. Your thighs part, legs eager to wrap around his hips, and you—ohh. That’s good. 

A moan spills from your lips when you managed to rub against him, the thick length of him pushing at the delicate part between your legs. “Azriel,” you pant, chest heaving up and down, “Azriel I need you. Now.” 

“Right now?” 

You swirl your hips, knowing it will feel torturous to him but he clearly needs the incentive of arousal to have him acting. “Don’t hold back,” you whisper, grinding up against him, already fantasising about how good he’ll feel inside of you. How full you’ll be. His wingspan alone is promising you pleasure, but he’s also an alpha, so… Your throat rolls, wondering if you might have bitten off more than you can chew. Alphas are notoriously…well off. 

Azriel pulls back as far as you’ll. Let him, looking down at you with colour high on his cheekbones. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he pants. 

“You won’t,” you assure, cupping his jaw, squeezing his hips. His throat rolls, and you want to bite him. Lick and nip and bite. 

“Give me a safe word,” Azriel demands, his voice rough and coarse. “You need to have… So I can be sure.” He’s just as breathless as you are. “Choose one.” 

You say the first word that comes into your head. “Knot.” 

Azriel’s head falls to the crook of your shoulder and neck, groaning audibly beside your ear, his hips lazily grinding against your clothed sex. Hot breath fans your bare skin, and you incline your chin for him to access your throat but his hands are fisted in the sheets, tension lining his powerful body. “Pick a different one,” he grits out. “You’re not having knot as your—”

Your hand has slipped between your bodies, cupping him before palming carefully at the large outline in his leathers. His tension rises, his whole body going rigid before he pulls far enough back to snarl, glaring down at you. Arousal floods between your thighs, squirming beneath the heated look. “Pick a godsdamned safe word or I’m tying you back up and getting that medicine.” 

The ropes had hurt. A lot. 

So why is your skin only growing hotter at the suggestion? 

“Rope,” you manage to get out. It doesn’t make much sense but as far as safe words go, it’ll do. Azriel seems to find it satisfactory, dipping his head once. “Say ‘rope’ if it gets too much then. I’ll stop.” 

“Mhmm.” You nod instantly, whimpering when he pulls back to untie his leathers. The whimpers turn into a moan when shadow crawl up your calves, looping around your knees to keep them spread, carefully pulling away the fabric of your skirts until you’re almost bare. 

Your head tips back into the cushions when the darkness swipes up the centre of your sex, flicking over your clit. They make to curl around the band at your hips but Azriel curses foully under his breath, hazel eyes so dark they’re nearly black as he gazes between your parted thighs. You’d gone into heat the day Baeril had left, cunt practically drooling slick every minute of every hour since then. The sheets are more than soaked, and your underwear is practically suctioned to your sex, strands of arousal webbing between your thighs. 

Azriel groans softly before both his palms are wrapping beneath your knees, allowing their underside to slot between his thumbs and second fingers. Your spine arches, thighs trembling as he buries his face between your legs creating a wild fluttering sensation in your lower belly, hips circling as you rub against whatever friction he’ll provide even if it means soaking his face in the process. If he likes it then you’re fine to adhere. Who are you to refuse pleasure?

The orgasm breaks across your skin with violent force, your breathing stuttering as your spine arcs off the bed, cunt fluttering around nothing as he licks up the wet mess between your thighs. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking tenderly on the sensitive part and you could cry from satisfaction. How relieved you are he innately knows where to touch. Even after the orgasm has finished washing through your body, it feels like only a few litres of pleasure have been released from behind a one-hundred foot tall dam. 

“Azriel,” you pant, tugging at his hair. “More. I need more. Please.”

“So quickly?” He drawls, though it comes out breathless. You squirm, trying to free your legs from his grip, your knees still practically shoved to your chest to make room for him. “You’re being cruel,” you cry, winding your hips, needing him inside. He seems to take pity on you there, releasing your legs to prowl up your torso, taking your dress with him, nearly tearing it clean from your body—you wouldn’t have minded. But now you’re naked and completely exposed save for the underwear at your hips, and Azriel’s looking like he might try and make you cum from licking and playing with your breasts alone. Then again with the aid of your heat, anything’s possible. 

Almost reverently, Azriel thumbs across one of your nipples, watching your reactions with a keenness that has a fire simmering in the pit of your stomach. But, “Azriel…” you whimper. “Not now…” 

Hazel eyes soften, then he’s nodding his head. Swallowing. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Breaths pant between you and your tongue wets your lips when you see his hand wrapped around his cock, the tip holding a bead of precum and your cunt aches as it swells with liquid before drizzling down his tip. You need to taste him. Gods he’s going to feel so good inside of you, and you hold your legs apart to make room for him. 

“You’re going to tell me if you need time, okay?” Azriel instructs, drawing your attention to his eyes. “We can go slower if it’s too much. Take as much time as you need.” 

“Put it inside,” you beg, hips shifting eagerly, ready to take him. “It’ll fit.” Azriel pauses, glancing at you doubtfully, “I’ve barely touched you. If it’s too much you’re taking my fingers instead. I’m not going to hurt you.” But you shake your head, need coursing through your veins, and he’s right there. 

“You wouldn’t have been made that big if you wouldn’t fit me.” 

Azriel groans, but it’s clear he’s struggling. Why is he struggling, he just needs to slide in. It’ll be fine. Why’s he waiting? What’s taking him so long? Why’s he not going in? 

His tip presses to your entrance and you freeze with anticipation. Almost there. 

Scar-roughened fingers lace with your own, gently pinning your hands to the bed as he leans his weight over you. 

He goes slowly as he’d told you he would. Inch by inch. Sliding deeper, and deeper. Air is pushed from your lungs, and even while he’s still you can feel his cock pushing upward against that spot. A few strokes of his thumb over your clit and you’ll be gone. Hazel eyes lock with yours, blinking before his brows raise, glancing lower as his hand slides between you. One. Two…

“Oh.” 

————

Azriel’s breath is trapped in his lungs as she flutters around him.

He hasn’t even moved yet and she’s coming on his cock. 

Her lips are parted and she looks like she’s in heaven right now. 

And she did say to not hold back. 

————

You don’t get a chance to hold onto anything when he draws his hips back and suddenly pushes back in before the aftershocks have even properly faded. 

You don’t have room to moan when he repeats the action but harder. 

You don’t have space for thought when he makes it a regular pace, fingers digging into your hips to angle them up from the bed so his cock can rub against that spot that had you coming so fast before. 

You don’t get a chance to fully acclimatise to the onslaught of pleasure. 

He’s perfect. 

Your hips lift in time to meet his thrusts, winding and bucking to take everything he can give, eager to have him filling you up until he’s making the sheets as wet as you are. Your spine arches as he holds your legs apart, roughly slamming into you over and over, hitting that spot again and again until you’re screaming with pleasure, head tipped back and mouth completely open, being fucked further up the mattress with every snap of his hips. 

“Is that better?” He asks and you’re astounded by the mild tone. He’s currently obliterating your world and yet he sounds completely in control. You manage a nod and he lowers his mouth to the hollow of your throat, halting the sharp thrusts but keeping you tightly pulled to his hips as he licks up the side of your throat. You feel more down-to-earth than you have over the past two days, and you’re approaching the peak of your heat right now. He’s keeping up with you. 

“Sit in my lap for a bit?” 

You hear the question but can manage little more than a series of dazed blinks. Then a vacant nod. 

His lips curve and hazel eyes twinkle, then his powerful arms are sliding beneath your back and hauling you upright, shifting the both of you so his back is against the headboard and you’re straddling his lap. Your knees sink down into the bed and his cock presses against your inner walls. 

“I can see you…you’re inside of me.” Your palm tentatively settles over the bump in your lower belly, shifting your hips faintly over his lap to feel him rub against you. “Az…you…oh.” 

His shadows wrap around your middle, stroking your sides soothingly as they squeeze your abdomen, the pressure having your eyes flutter with pleasure. “You feel so good,” you breathe, lips staying parted on the exhale, a blissed out heaviness to your half-open eyes. “So right, inside.” 

“You’re adorable,” he chuckles breathily into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning ticklishly across the intimate expanse, fangs dragging teasingly along. His lips curve against your throat, and a small, needful hum simmers in your chest. “So perfect.” 

Teeth prod into your lower lip, fingers tangling in the silky strands of his hair. He smells delicious. Clean but distinctly male. Distinctly himself. “You’re perfect,” you argue back, hardly louder than a murmur. You pull back to look at one another, your skin heating with the strange intimacy. 

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, playing with the ends of his hair. Azriel doesn’t avert his gaze, palms spanning the sweep of your hips, thumbs stroking faintly. “Lift up,” he tells you, softer than a whisper; a gently uttered command. You flush at his low cadence, but obey. 

Try to obey. 

You’re stuck. 

Azriel groans softly when you squeeze him, fingers digging into your hips when you try to start riding him, instincts urging you to have him releasing. 

“Az, why-”

“Slow down. It’s okay.” His palm settles atop the crown of your head, stroking gently. “I should have pulled out before it formed. Just wait until it goes away then I promise we can start again.” 

“But I want to take it,” you insist, leaning into his chest. “I want your knot.” His throat rolls but he doesn’t relent. “I don’t regularly take a tonic, pretty thing.”

“That’s fine. I still want it.” 

“You want it now,” he stresses that last part, still remaining steady. You don’t feel like he’s chastising you. “What about when you’re not in heat?” 

“I’ll still want it. Please.” 

Azriel shakes his head, eyes still soft despite their hunger. “When your heat passes we can talk more about…what will happen between us. For now…”

“Us?” You ask, pulse spiking. 

“Is that… Do you not want an us?” 

“I want an us. What about-”

“Please don’t say his name right now.” You flush, tightening around him, shifting in his lap. “Well, what about that? I’m married…” 

“It’s illegal to confine someone in the way he did to you. Especially since I’m assuming he knew you were going into heat?” You nod your head, choosing not to think about what could have happened had Azriel not shown up. A muscle feathers in his jaw before he continues. “Then that’s a kind of torture. More than enough ground for departure.” His throat rolls. “If you…?”

“Are you sure?” 

He stares at you. 

You glance away. “You aren’t-…I mean, this isn’t lust speaking, is it? You’ll mean what you’re saying once you’re done with me?”

“Done with you?” 

“Once my heat is passed…” 

He’s still staring.

“Have I said something wrong?” You ask, once again shifting in his lap. 

Scar-roughened palms cup your cheeks, hazel eyes shining as he pulls you closer. “I’ve been hoping to take you from him for the past three years.” Your heart flutters in your chest, leaning into the solid heat of his chest. “Once your heat is passed, it’s your choice what to do, but know I’d like to be part of it still. In whatever way you might let me.” 

“Are you…”

“I’m serious.” His thumb swipes across the crest of your cheek. “I can tell you this all again once your heat is passed, if that will help. I want to… I want to be with you.” 

You’re too stunned to speak, heart about ready to grow its own set of wings and fly far away. Flutter to the skies and float away on a warm breeze. 

You shift in his lap once more, still able to feel his knot inside of you—not as big as before but definitely still there. Your tongue swipes across your lips. “Emerie…will have something. To prevent pregnancy, I mean.” His throat rolls, and your teeth tug at the interior of your lower lip. “So, as long as I can take that within the next day…” You roll your hips gently over his own, tightening around him as your hands slowly glide up his chest. 

“When I leave to get…a tonic.” He seems to be having a hard time getting through this one. “Will you be okay?” You blink, averting your eyes as you consider. You’d rather he didn’t leave…you don’t want to endure any more of that heat without reprieve, but you so badly want to take his knot. To feel him spill inside of you. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive without that. 

Your eyes catch on a sheath strapped to his thigh. The smooth metal handle of the dagger he’d used to cut you free. Curved and cylindrical. 

You clear your throat, feeling the heat begin to return. “Is that clean?” 

Beneath you Azriel freezes. “…Yes.” 

“And…so…would you mind if I…” 

“No.” He tries to clear his throat. Swallows. “No, it’s fine. You can use it.” His voice strains over that last part. “I’ll clean it again, before leaving you. But yes. You’re more than- I mean, I don’t mind. If it will help you, then please-”

Your lips press to his, and the rigidity begins to thaw. Gently circling your hips, you want to entice him to make you move, to angle and direct you as he pleases. The thought alone of having him guide you has wild butterflies coming alive between your legs.

“Give it to me,” you whisper, nails scratching lightly beneath his jaw. “Let me take it.” Azriel nods, looking up at you as though dazed. His eyes are glazed, lips parted, fingers skimming over your skin. “I want…I want you to use me to get there,” you utter softly, unsure whether to be embarrassed over the admission. When he twitches inside of you, you decide you’re proud of your decision.

“You want me…? To…?”

Teeth prod at your lip, and you nod your head. “I want you… To…”

Azriel swallows thickly but nods nonetheless. “Okay.”

Hands readjust their grip on your hips, fingers spanning up to your waist before he lifts you from his lap—as far as you can go—then sliding you back down. His breathing stutters and you try to vaguely follow his directions, lifting up, then down, using the muscles in your legs to ride him as much as you can.

He’s growing bigger inside of you. Swelling at the base of his cock. Locking you tighter together until it’s impossible to slide much up or down. Instead he inclines your body into him, breasts pressing flush to his chest, your fingers scrambling at the hem of his clothes, encouraging them away so he’s bare.

Powerful arms wrap around your back, minding your wings while keeping you plastered to his front. It feels good, to be held like this during sex. The tenderness is something you hadn’t known was an option, but now he’s so freely offering it to you you’re taking it with both hands, arms wrapping over his shoulders.

A moan is pushed from your chest when he bucks his hips, his arms keeping you strapped to his torso, shadows delicately snaring your forearms to bind them as they’d been when he found you.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, lips tickling the shell of your ear. “It’s good,” you reassure, too caught up in pleasure to really think.

Azriel bites his lip as he holds you upright, letting his shadows roam across your front, his palms playing with your breasts, thumbing across your nipples before trailing back down to your hips. Bucking up into you. Guiding you to rock back and forth, your clit rubbing over his abdomen.

“Azriel…I’m…”

He nods. “Good.”

“But what about you…?”

“I’m nearly there…just keep…” He cuts himself off with a deep groan, one you can feel vibrating through your own body, sending tremors up your thighs.

He twitches twice, then he’s filling you up, knot swollen to its full size so it’s impossible to lift off him, locked together while he empties himself inside. Your lips part with pleasure, another orgasm rolling through your limbs, spreading to your tip toes and fingertips. It’s the most powerful one yet, ecstasy heightened by his own orgasm, feeling as he fills you up so perfectly.

Azriel holds you all the way through it, shadows stroking tenderly up and down over your body, putting soothing touches into your skin before eventually unraveling from your arms, allowing you to reach out for him. Fingers interleaf with your own, squeezing faintly.

It’s different knowing this isn’t temporary. That it’s not just sex. That there is romance, and it’s not just possession.

Maybe it’s more than just romance. He had almost kissed you before you’d run away…

You’ll just have to trust that he’ll keep caring after this immediate heat is passed. That he really does want to take you away, and be with you. And looking at him now…feeling the gentle touch, the light patterns he’s drawing on your skin, waiting patiently for you to signal whether you want more or a break…

You smile, inclining your head until your noses are brushing. Close enough to feel the stutter of air his lashes send your way. “I want you to stay with me. After this is passed.”

Hazel eyes blink, his lips softening at their corners. “I’d wish for nothing more.”

Your toes curl, a fluttery feeling in your heart, and you press a small kiss to his mouth.

His knuckles graze your cheek before cupping you jaw, indulging in the sweet press of you lips.

Perfection.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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[sirfrogsworth]

These folks watched a whole ass movie not realizing the main character was transgender and it was a 2 second kiss between men that made them lose their ever-loving minds.

It's amazing to me that if it weren't for those 2 seconds, many of these folks would have given this movie a 4 or 5 star review. But two seconds of the most vanilla, non-sexy, yet genuine and loving kiss somehow ruined every moment of enjoyment the previous 90 minutes brought them.

Imagine if they realized the trans allegory. I wish I had a way to tell them. I wish I had a way to make them realize they related to a trans character. That they rooted for them. That they accidentally empathized with a trans story.

This was a beautiful movie. In every sense. I really hope between this and Spider-Verse, we can have a moratorium on every 3D animated movie using this style of character design.

It's time to let go of the rubber toy look.

I love Toy Story, but its success kind of doomed 3D animation to never take any risks. I thought maybe it was just a limitation of the medium, and perhaps it was for a time... but after seeing Love Death + Robots and Arcane...

I realized they can make 3D animation look however the hell they want now.

The rubber people were just risk avoidance.

"That's what people are used to and so we're sticking with it."

But the real beauty of Nimona was the story. I won't spoil it but the plot is pretty much, "If you get to know a trans person, you probably won't hate them anymore."

Not knowing any trans people is one of the biggest factors in anti-trans bigotry. And so this movie uses allegory to let an audience get to know a trans person. And you get to experience someone slowly start to understand what it is to be trans from an outside perspective.

It's sad that will probably be lost on those folks above because all they will remember is the kiss. Seriously, it was such a harmless, mundane, blink-and-you-miss-it kiss. But I'm hoping that others will take the lesson of this movie to heart. That you should get to know people before you judge them.

Part of me does wish we could tell trans stories without allegory. That we could just have overt trans characters. But I think this is the best representation possible right now.

It's crazy that Supergirl was one of the bravest shows as far as modern trans representation. It wasn't an edgy HBO drama trying to push boundaries. It was a family-friendly superhero show and they were just like, "Here is a transgender woman with superpowers and it's fine." And I loved that it was part of the character but it wasn't all the character was. Though I think they just missed the manufactured "moral panic" window where that choice would have been extremely controversial causing boycotts of Warner Bros. and whatnot.

My only complaint about Nimona was a small penis joke. It went by very quickly and many may even miss it. But I was surprised to see it in this movie in particular. Especially since those jokes can have collateral damage toward trans folks. With all of the positive messages, wasting a joke on body shaming was a tad disappointing. I mean, it was a fairly lighthearted "Is it cold in here?" joke. I don't want to make it sound worse than it was. But it still registered on my Richter scale of things that bother me.

Anyway, I wholeheartedly give Nimona a 5 out of 5. It helped me understand my friends on a deeper level and it was warm and funny and entertaining. There was a scene at the end that was so beautiful and heart-wrenching and I was crying my eyes out. The animation and the symbolism and the acting were just so perfect.

It's a shame Disney tried to kill this movie. But I am so glad it was allowed to exist despite that.

[mysi101]

Are Katara stans more likely to become Zutara?

To be fair: I also saw Kataangers, other- or non-shippers who care at least a little about Katara and did complain about the nerfing of her character. But still…maybe it is because of the communities I visit, but it appears to me that most Katara stans are more likely to become Zutara.

The reason I prefer this ship is that I’ve become a Katara stan first. I love every side of her, the loud one precisely, when she stands up for her ideals. And, as for Zutara: There is a deep understanding of each other’s needs along with mutual respect and a special bond those two share with no one else in the Gaang. They are equals—Zuko respects, accepts and loves Katara as a whole, and the same goes the other way around (canon-platonically or headcanon/ship-baiting-romantically doesn’t matter).

So, here’s what I don’t understand: if someone ships, I would assume they care about both characters and how they fit with each other. Yet, I’ve seen many Kataangers care only about Aang: What Aang wants. What his intensions are. That he is just flawed when he kisses Katara without consent…never how Katara feels about his actions, never how she is presented at the end of the OG, in the comics and in Korra.

Regarding The Southern Raiders in this case: I truly believe that Aang just wants to help, as many Kataangers argue in defense of his behavior. The teachings of the monks helped him during his dark times, plus, he is just a kid. He panicked, bc he thought Katara would follow the same dark path, and didn’t know how to express his worries. However, this is also my point against Kataang: He is just a kid. He still has so much to learn before even thinking about a serious relationship; especially with Katara whom he still sees through rose-tinted glasses—including that forgiveness to receive closure is not the right path for everyone.

If you mention this to some Kataangers, even very carefully, they immediately become defensive, saying that it’s just about making Zutara look better and demonizing Aang. And don’t get me started on the kiss by the end. 🙄 I’ve never read anything from them beyond “Katara is clearly happy.” But what makes you think she is happy? No explanation. People who agree with me, showing that they care about Katara, are mostly Zutara- or non-shippers.

Me, on the other hand: I can easily say that Katara has every right to hold a grudge against Zuko after The Crossroads of Destiny, bc he wronged her the most. Totally understandable that he had to go the extra mile with her to receive her forgiveness. I won’t sugar coat his actions to make him or Zutara look better, so much for their complaints—that isn’t necessary anyway. The difference: Zuko stood up for his mistakes, helps Katara to find her closure without asking for forgiveness, even if that is what he hopes. Let’s not forget how she opens up to him, even during this process; more than she did to anyone else.

Aang’s mistakes weren’t that huge, and it would take a scene of maybe a minute or two to truly show the regret of his actions towards Katara.

I believe that if you care about a character like Katara with such huge beliefs and intensions to create a better world, you wouldn’t be okay with reducing her to nothing more than an attachment whose world revolves around her boyfriend/husband—or her sweetie *ugh*. Yet, some Aang-stans seem not to care about this side of Katara and really consider her happy when her life is nothing more than pampering her partner.

[bendyartistic]

Be aware of alexbstudios.

Over the course of what I believe a few months maybe, Alex has been harassing me with strange behavior and as of recent hurtful remarks too. He's been bothering other people as well from what I've seen. Probably going to say I should've just blocked him, but I wanted to keep an eye on things just in case. Today was the point in time after everything that I realized I should let people know about this kid.

I want to show from the beginning to present time of the interactions he's done with me. And maybe something can be done about getting him off the platform...

Firstly I want to say Alex has admitted to being 12 years old... apparently. I know this from this reblog. This already is a very large red flag. Considering the young age, no a callout doesn't seem right but I still want to warn people regardless since he's still active on the platform.

Though I am uncertain if this is true, he did not confirm nor deny my question about it.

Now lets get to the start of things. I don't like people reposting my art anywhere without credit, surely that can be said for everyone.

Randomly in May Alex reposted my art, no credit, mention of who made it, or where it came from. I should mention Alex had been following me well before this post, so he knew who I was. Rightfully I responded with a request to take it down as I didn't appreciate this.

Upon making this request he made a small complaint about it, which was unneeded. While he did "delete" the post, it still technically there, just edited. Therefore never officially removed like I had asked.

He also uploaded two other drawings I did, but he did not remove those ones.

Not too long ago on a post I made showcasing my Chris model, as it had been a while since I posted it, and I wanted to let people see it.

Alex later said some... questionable things about it. And it really made me uncomfortable to say the least.

For context in my AU, my Chris is 29. This has been stated before a few times.

I want to get to the biggest thing here however, as this is what drove me to make this post. The consistent weird and hateful DM's he has sent me.

I have told Alex to leave me alone on several different occasions and he has refused to do so. Again I know I should've blocked but as I said, just wanted to wait in case. Truth is I don't like blocking people, never have, I feel weird doing it. But anyways Alex made a poll a week ago if I recall correctly of whether or not he should keep or delete his account. The poll won on keep. No sooner did this happen, Alex was in my DM's bothering me about it after I again told him to leave me alone.

The DM's are as followed with context and info:

He responded with something along the lines of "Then my account would become lost media!" to which I only responded "No one really cares."

Next post is where Alex starts to mock me for being slow with my replies. I don't quite understand what speed he expects me to write my replies at, I guess 5 seconds?

So as you have noticed Alex is now making fun of my autism, and it's going to continue in this unfortunately. Bringing up a disability in an argument should not happen. However at some point Alex accused me of creating alts to vote against his poll, I have none.

I'm not sure why me specifically... and I hate how me being "slow" keeps getting brought up. Also racism is somehow brought into this as well.

He spammed me with the same image repeatedly, and it continued for a while. Passing that, he wanted me to run the same poll he did on if I should keep or delete my account. I obviously declined.

He then blocked me after this.

Alex in the past DM'd me, when he made those remarks about my Chris model. I wasn't happy then and I'm still not about it.

I'm still puzzled as to why he calls being blocked as banned. Besides that this comes to the end of the DM ark. Alex has done other things, such as suggest people to draw strange stuff, edited other peoples work, steal other peoples work, and tried to stir up drama at one point.

In conclusion,

Alex is immature. And should not be here, especially this fandom. But in general he should not be online, it is clear he has unlimited access to whatever he wants.

I am sorry to my friends and others who have had to deal with him. That is all I have to say.

Any questions or whatnot is fine. Reblogs are appreciated in order to spread the word.

[cuubism]

Dream makes Hob Prince Consort in the Dreaming, but does not tell Hob because why would he ever communicate anything. It's just ceremonial anyway. Right? Right.

Anyway Hob lives in blissful ignorance for several years. Sure all the Dreaming denizens are super nice to him but that's just how dreams are, right? It's cool. Nothing weird here.

Then Dream goes missing. Hob's freaking the fuck out -- the last time Dream went missing was fucking Not Good after all -- and as if that wasn't bad enough, Lucienne comes up to him and is like, so... Lord Morpheus left you in charge of the Dreaming in his absence.

Hob: this better be a fucking joke

Lucienne: no, you're prince consort so according to the royal scriptures of the Dreaming you're in charge.

Hob: hang on I'm WHAT so I'm WHAT

Hob: was Dream AWARE of this when he made me consort

Lucienne: *derisive look*

Hob: but I'm just a GUY I can't run a dream realm *shakes fist at absent Dream* my beloved asshole you can't just drop this shit on me oh my GOD

Lucienne: well someone's gotta do it. To be honest I'm still tired from last time.

Hob: well. Uh. *shrugs* guess I'm running the Dreaming now?

----

A year later Dream returns. Hob's been looking for him the whole time but it was kind of fucking difficult when he also had to run a whole REALM.

Turns out Dream was fine he just went on like, a jaunt to another galaxy for dream inspiration and forgot about time dilation in space travel. No big deal. Anyway.

Dream gets back and he's like oops hope Hob hasn't struggled too much, that was only supposed to be three days... lol...

So turns out Hob is not very good at being a King in the way Dream is but he IS very good at just bringing major Dad Energy to all the little dreams and nightmares, just being like the Cool University Professor of the entire Dreaming. So Dream gets back and Hob has managed to befriend EVERYONE in the Dreaming. He's hosting "family dinner" at the palace? He's doing Forums where people can bring their complaints? He instituted set work hours to create work life balance?

Dream is like What In The Democracy Is This. What have you done to my realm.

Hob's like We're Vibing! :) Come on we're having a blast!

And drags Dream to a fucking party going on at the palace? There are drinks? They're doing karaoke? Is Dream having a stroke?

It's all so foreign that he almost calls down a tornado and just obliterates the palace. But Hob pulls him close and makes him dance to the music, and leans in and says, "You know it doesn't have to be all fire and brimstone and seriousness all the time. It's okay to show them you love them."

And Dream is like "I DO love them they're my creations."

And Hob is like, "I know but it's also okay for them to SEE it."

Dream looks around at the ridiculous party. True to Hob's words, the dreams and nightmares look more relaxed and happier than they've been in a while-- at least, when Dream's been around. He wonders what else he doesn't get to see. What they're afraid to show him.

He says, "I went to the Andromeda galaxy for new dream inspiration, but perhaps I should have been looking in you, Hob Gadling."

Hob's like "aw that's sweet-- hang on you went to the WHERE???"

Dream just chuckles and doesn't elaborate, and Hob gives up and pulls him close again, holds him and dances them to the beat of the swing music one of the Music Dreams has just put on. Dream says, "I see that while your leadership skills are... unconventional... I made the right choice in leaving you in charge of the Dreaming."

"Yeah, about that, next time you're gonna spontaneously make me Prime Minister of some place can you let me know in ADVANCE??"

"Well, you wanted fun. Where would the fun be in that?"

[utilitycaster]

what are those 5 things? 👀

Seeing people start admit that maybe Imogen and Laudna did in fact pressure Fearne excessively hard to take the shard. I think it's good Fearne took it in the end, but yeah they really made it difficult for her to express her doubts and that was shitty of them. I got extensive hate for saying that at the time from people who are literally saying the same thing now. It's very funny.

The (entirely valid) complaints I've seen that people care more about imo/dna as a ship than Laudna as a character and are making her book solely about the fact that Imogen will show up in it. I pointed out this exact same problem occurring while Laudna was dead, almost two years ago.

Caleb considering leaving the Nein means they aren't really bonded. Imogen considering leaving Bells Hells means she's so perfect and caring and selfless and noble and good. Anyway yeah sure I definitely believe that if Imogen were a man played by Liam everyone would definitely be totally uncritical and love everything she did. (This is also a layered one, given how Twitter has been bashing Orym nonstop for over a year).

I know it's been a month and I've said this repeatedly so this is a bit tacky but I'm still riding the absolute Irony High of people being like "STOP TALKING ABOUT HUBRIS STOP TALKING ABOUT HUBRIS anyway of COURSE Bells Hells would NEVER see the gods as a messed up family, just like them" and then jump cut to Laudna literally saying that. It's just genuinely so funny that people mad at everyone calling Aeor full of hubris proceeded to get their wax wings straight up vaporized at the top of episode 102.

People calling imo/dna the bestest most organic most slow-burn sapphic ship ever (it's not even the longest slow-burn f/f ship on Critical Role; even if you're stupid enough to count the two years we know virtually nothing about just for the purposes of padding out the time to eliminate Beauyasha on a technicality - nevermind that slowburn is about the length of the story itself and not the length of time the characters have known each other, since it's obvious that if someone said 'here's Jane and Kate, they've known each other for 300 years, now they are kissing' this would not be a satisfying slowburn unless like, you went back and filled in the 300 years - Kimallura STILL wins) but as someone who received a decent amount of harassment for saying it wasn't very interesting and as such kept tabs on the people engaging in that harassment...they've been dropping like flies. If it's the best sapphic ship ever and it's canon and you're in the top 5 ships for the show of all time on ao3 and Delilah's gone and they're going to get their cottage, funny how a good chunk of the shippers haven't even managed to stay interested in CR. Also why are half the people who HAVE kept up like hmmmm what if I threw Fearne or Ashton in there. Like believe me, I support a poly hells situation, but uh. quite a tumble for what people used to call the Beating Heart Of The Campaign (TM).

Bonus! This is below a cut because it has spoilers for next week's Re-Slayer's Take that's only out for Beacon subscribers but

we see Devexian, and he meets Frog (an aeormaton PC) and his overall statement on Aeor is "it created us to serve, and we fought for our autonomy. It was both a beautiful and terrible place. Anyway the past is past, what's important is that we as aeormatons take our chance to live now, and my personal goal is not just to bring back as many aeormatons as I can, but learn how to make more aeormatons." He is completely uninterested, at least in 839 PD, in any sort of action against the gods. Like, I think he regrets the fall of Aeor because a lot of Aeormatons and knowledge died in it but he literally is like "your life is defined by your own choices, not your designation at the time of Aeor." The actual survivors of the fall of Aeor are like anyway, we want acceptance, autonomy, and the means to control our own production in modern day Exandria. Ludinus whomst.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 16.

Summary: In which we observe a few nights during the first week of the Summer at Saltburn while you set your plan into motion for putting on a show for Oliver. You don't tell Farleigh about the plan despite definitely using him in it, because you reason that he'd only object because he still loudly hates Oliver whenever he can. You... don't think too hard about all of the ethics of this. But there's also a lot you don't think about. Anyways, what Farleigh doesn't know won't hurt him.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; Farleigh/Reader(/Oliver kind of). Dom!Reader, praise kink, no AGAB specified for the reader, brief mention of oral (M receiving), implied voyeurism and also implied non-consensual voyeurism, degradation, choking, discussions about the reader's sex life and about whether or not their partners get them off.

A/N: 3193 words. not to be hit by the fic writer's curse but sorry this chapter is late i had a seizure for the first time in my life on a main road by the bus stop and was hospitalized for four days. this was going to be longer but i wrote and rewrote the "ending" and neither fit right so i said fuck it. very nsfw chapter and we get to love farleigh a bit more. LOVE YOU!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

So it was definitely working.

And after you'd explained it to Felix, he was more than on board.

Farleigh was of the opinion that Felix monopolized too much of your time whenever you were away from the Estate, so he would never complain about your sudden increased desire to be pressed against him as you lay about the property. Likewise, Venetia had absolutely no complaints about the contact. Venetia relishes the contact, and not that she'd ever say it, but she'd wrap herself around your shoulders like a mink coat for hours at a time if you'd let her.

You know Oliver's eyes are on you often in the early days, the first week at Saltburn. His gaze burns you in the days, and he finds you in the lilac study at night.

At first it's innocent enough; you'd left a copy of Saltburn: The Art of Saltburn House, The Catton Collection on his bedside, to help him familiarise himself with the history of the Estate and the antiquities therein. You sit at the desk, looking through your dossier, he curls up like a cat on one end of the off-white, leather sofa beneath the window. He looks beautiful in the moonlight.

"You're watching me," Oliver murmurs. He looks like a dream, shirtless, relaxed against the sofa, painted beautiful and blue by the clear night sky. You sigh softly, apologising faintly but insincerely as you reach past your dossier to the pack of cigarettes resting there. Its Oliver's turn to watch you once more, book closed in his lap where he waits for you to join him. You open the window, sitting on the back of the sofa, half on the windowsill.

Oliver leans forward, looking up at you with those beautiful blue eyes of his as he asks you about the dossier. You explain about the various events, big and small, that Saltburn plays host to over the Summer. You explain rather clinically about your interest in the guests, while keeping your mouth shut on any information about your own parents out of habit.

The next night, you forgo the desk entirely and simply sit on the sofa, window open, lamp on behind you. Oliver sits, and you stretch your legs out over him, invading his space without looking up, but blithely telling him that he's free to ask you to move. One of his hands holds your ankles, crossed in his lap, secure as he braces his book against your shins.

You've become acutely attuned to the way Oliver thinks he's skulking around Saltburn. As quiet as he tries to be, he'll never be able to out-fox you here. The Cattons and Farleigh? Most definitely, but you? Well, not since you spent a full year trying to convince Duncan to let you join the staff for events. Neither he nor Elspeth had agreed, but the skills you'd taught yourself made you a sometimes uncanny presence in the house even to this day.

But you appreciate that Oliver's aiming for subtlety, even if he doesn't meet his mark; it makes him easier to ignore on purpose.

There's the barest shift and creak outside of Farleigh's room the night he invites you back to drink wine and hang out. Considering the artistic inclinations of his own immediate family, Farleigh had often found a great deal of solace in you and the stories you could tell him if your grandmother, a great artist in her own right. Many nights were spent in Farleigh's room, drinking, listening to music, and painting across each other's skin before it devolved into a mess of another kind.

This third night, you hear the faint groan of the floorboards, the creak of the barest weight against the other side of the door. You tell Farleigh he's beautiful as you ride him, rocking back and forth in his lap, and you wonder if Oliver can tell the painting on your back is a dreamy field of wildflowers through the keyhole.

Gorgeous boy, so good - fuck Fars, you feel so good - you tell him as he grips you tight, paint smearing across your hips and thighs. You're the one covered in his art, but you call him breath-taking with absolute sincerity. Part of it is of course a show for Oliver, but you can't deny your genuine affection for Farleigh. His bitchy shell gave way to so few people that you considered the moments in which he'd relinquish control to you to be rather special.

Plucking control and responsibility from him while lavishing him with affection was something you delighted in. The shallow doting of fair-weather friends and short term partners was something Farleigh was used to, but you knew he was worth - and capable of - so much more than that.

While you were more than capable - and he was more than willing - for you to bark orders, push him around, make him kneel and obey your every whim, you knew all too well that you had all Summer to show off. Not that you wanted these games to drag on that long.

The bed rocks with your consistent rhythm, so you can hear the way weight shifts just outside the door, but doesn't move. A thought occurs to you, a new script, a new hook -

"Ollie thinks you treat me badly," you tease loud enough you know your voice will carry, but leaning in to press yourself to Farleigh, braced over him to keep him on his back despite the irritation in his eyes the minute they flick open. Still, you carry on before he can comment, despite how much you know he wants to, "he even asked how we got -" you moaned faintly for effect, settling yourself on him for the moment, hips pressed flush, his hands on your ass, "close," your smile widens, "considering, how awfully mean you can be to me." You pout, putting on the act thickly enough that it gets Farleigh to smile despite himself.

"You need to tell me this now?" Hands sliding up your body, Farleigh's hips begin to roll, taking over from you, fucking you softly as he takes your face in his hands. The touch is tender, more gentle than he'd ever allow if he knew he had an actual audience. Perhaps you should feel bad for using him like this, but you tell yourself that Farleigh will understand. If he ever finds out.

Still, the more you think about it, the more it... bothers you. Oliver's voice in your ear.

You need to be needed. Want to be wanted.

Farleigh stops. There's genuine concern in his face as he holds your face close. But it's his voice too, casually cruel to the entire roster of your past sexual exploits without giving you a moment to really think about it.

You rate sex by how good you can make your partner feel.

Maybe that's all you were to Farleigh, just like Venetia; a warm body you weren't related to. Be a partner in crime, someone he could bitch to about the finer irritations he suffered under the Cattons, someone he could fuck when he felt bored or unwanted. An affectionate little imp who'd accept his every apology, who'd still let him get away with feeling like he had the moral high ground. The dog forever at the foot of his metaphorical bed.

But was that not enough? How could you say he did not love you, not care about you, not look out for you? It's there in his eyes in this moment, these brief few seconds that to you have felt like a lifetime.

Pushing down the urge to ask the kinds of questions that would give real answers, but would complicate things tremendously, you let yourself lean into the messy, shameful lust that pits low in your belly, burning as you think of Oliver, though you've lost track of if he was still there, you have hope. It's his voice once more, from this morning this time, the praise he'd so casually offered. It that spurs you on.

"Tell me I'm good," shifting your focus back onto Farleigh, it comes out as almost an order. Your companion takes a moment to reassess the situation, smile lighting up his face when he's finally sure your behaviour isn't worrying.

"Of course you're good, you're you -" he laughs, but you sit back up, taller this time and out of his grip, hand braced on his chest as you level thin, cold smile at him, playing far more into the dominant role than you had been earlier.

"Exactly," and your hips begin to move again; you think you can actually feel Farleigh shiver with sudden anticipation, "tell me I'm good, Farleigh," you drag your nails down his chest, "make me believe it." The words escape him in a hiss as you clench down on him, tight and sensitive as your hips pick up the pace. Hearing the words begin to spill from him like a prayer unlocks something deep within you, a want you hadn't even realised you had. Recognition. Praise.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Farleigh," hand finding his throat, you press firmly to the sensitive pulse points in the way you know he likes, and he actually whimpers, tries to shake his head that he's not. Agonisingly slowly, you leaned in. You know he's close, he's begging and whining as much as he's affording you praise, so you dare not stop. It's a messy kiss that you plant on him, all teeth and shared, desperate breath, his lip between your teeth to the point he actually yelps and you let go.

"You ever call me a dog again," you whisper into his ear dangerous and seductive all at once as you have him where you want him, "you'd better make sure you call me a good one," and you bite gently at his ear as he swears, "now it's your turn to be good for me."

Reaching between you both, as you pull yourself off of Farleigh's desperate, all but twitching cock, your hand takes over for the half second it takes you to move down him, to let him finish in your mouth, all but singing your praises.

Farleigh's quiet and rather giggly in the afterglow, sharing a cigarette with you. The tension leaves you as his fond teasing returns. You don't hear any sign of Oliver beyond the door in these moments; you don't think you hear him leave, so he must be gone already. You wonder just how much he stuck around for; you wonder if he'll ever let on.

That night you stay with him, talking and joking about nothing and everything, and the fears you had about your place in his life matter less and less with each passing moment. Head on his shoulder, reading the last Harry Potter book with him in the early hours of the morning, you think any pet should feel lucky to be half as loved as you were by Farleigh and Venetia. Even if they had a strange way of showing it.

Ever true to form, there's absolutely no indication at breakfast that anything remotely note worthy happened the night before. These trysts had been occurring for so long at this point that as long as it was confined to the private quarters of one of the four - now five, you supposed - youth of Saltburn, everyone else pretended to feign ignorance. It was simply a truth of life at Saltburn; death, taxes, and you knowing Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh biblically since high school. So if there was to be a reaction, it would be from the exact person you were hoping would give one.

Oliver.

His gaze does linger on you over breakfast, but it's strangely unreadable. For a long while he watches your hands, but you don't call him out, or draw attention to the fact that you know; you let him stare. You let him watch as you have resolved to do.

Okay, there is one point where your hands drift into a lewd, sexual gesture while you're busy making plans with the others to head to the field for the day, and when you glance back at Oliver he's pink around the ears when he guiltily meets your gaze. The smile you flash him, so quickly that no-one else sees it, is wicked. Even if he seems to grow further embarrassed, you're pretty sure he's focusing straight down on his food to hide a smile.

"What kind of pervert do you take me for?" Felix mutters, despite the flush on his cheeks in the golden afternoon sunshine as Farleigh continues to tease him while you three and Venetia settled into the field, waiting for Oliver.

"Like you aren't even the slightest bit curious about the only other dick to get Y/N off besides you," Farleigh smirked, even as Venetia gasped with a kind of scandalised glee, and you practically screeched with fury, berating him with a flurry of smacks against his shoulder.

"Not true!" You clarified immediately, looking to Felix, who had slid his sunglasses down his nose to give you an incredulously amused look. You could feel yourself growing more flustered by the moment, but you're not exactly sure why. Surely - if it were true, which it decidedly is not - it would be just an awful reflection on your past partners, "and if it were, which it... mostly isn't," you stuck your nose in the air, giving Farleigh a final shove, "wouldn't you just be writing your own shit review with that lie?"

"How can it be mostly true?" Venetia's eyes are alight with intrigue as she fully rolls over to get closer to you and the boys, propping her chin on her hand as she dedicates her focus to you. Farleigh's actually kicking his feet and giggling, the bloody shit-stirrer.

"I told you that in fucking confidence," you snapped to Farleigh in what was more a stage whisper than anything else. Farleigh's giggling turns to cackling.

"So what I was told," Felix sits back with a smug little smile and a tone that you knew could only mean he was about to be a menace, "was that Ollie was so good that none of our friends," his grin grows wider in the face of your pouting, "Farleigh included, I'd assume, would believe you if you'd told them." Smug bastard; if he put half as much effort into studying as he did to remembering stupid shit you say about your hook ups, you wouldn't have had to go in and change nearly as many of his marks in the system.

"I get off!" You defended your past self, though it almost sounds embarrassed, but the ridiculousness of the situation sets the others off snickering, "people other than Fi, and, yeah, Ollie," you admitted awkwardly, "get me off- have gotten me off! Both of you cunts have gotten me off! You were there!" By now they're all practically cackling, and you let your embarrassment wane and let yourself get caught up in the laughter too.

As your coming down, it's a lot easier to admit without feeling self conscious.

"He got me off first is all," you lay back in the tall grass, lighting up a cigarette with an easy smile, "which, yeah, is admittedly a rare enough occurrence that it made whatever counts as mine and Farleigh's news cycle," you snorted.

"Seriously?" You hear Felix's incredulous voice and you sigh, admitting that while, yeah, that list consists of him and Oliver, it's also not that big of a deal, that you have your fun. But Felix isn't talking to you; "no, seriously," he's looking between Venetia and Farleigh like he's personally offended, "how long have you two been fucking my best mate and you haven't even had the decency to -"

"I keep track," Farleigh insists, which, yeah he actually did, "I repay back every one that I promise," his hand over his heart like this is anything close to serious. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you see Felix is still wearing a severely unimpressed look at them both, and despite the ludicrous situation, something about his indignation on your behalf melts something in your heart. It's almost like he can tell; without even looking at you he reaches out and rests a hand on your shin beside him.

"And a very worked up lesbian in Montreal told me I was a pillow princess," Venetia says in that same tone as Farleigh, as if her words were any kind of justification.

"I have follow up questions," Farleigh, however, immediately takes the bait, if only to steer the conversation away from Felix's frustration at them both, "how did you know she was a lesbian and why were you arguing?"

"The answer to both is that we weren't arguing," Venetia tells him smugly, voice laden thick with inuendo. Felix makes a face, but lets them go about their conversation without further interruption from him, despite his continued discomfort with the news he'd just learned about you.

Sitting up beside him, you mirror him, knees up to your chest, but you tuck your arm in his and bump your forehead against his cheek.

"Feels kinda gross to know about you," you hear Felix mumble, though almost immediately he clarifies, "you're not gross," he's speaking low enough that only you can hear, "everyone else is," he jerks his head towards Venetia and Farleigh before he leans back against you, "they're gross."

"Lucky I have you and Ollie then," you murmur with a chuckle, but are met with silence. Felix lets out a long sigh, and you know him well enough to know what's on his mind, "you so are curious about Ollie," you poked him in the ribs with a sly grin. Felix snorted, pressing a kiss to your forehead instead of answering. You know all too well that he's blushing by now, attempting to hide most of it from his perverse family members by keeping close to you.

Venetia and Farleigh for their part have shifted over, given you both more space as the gossiping had come to an end. As it always seemed to be, the last two to remain unreasonably close were you and Felix.

"What made him different from everyone else wasn't his dick, for the record," you murmured as you were going through the picnic basket, searching for something cold in the afternoon heat. Felix the only one close enough to have heard your quiet aside, looks at you with intrigue; how does he not get it? You give him a strange little smile, "it's... that he was Oliver." Felix frowns a little, as if trying to decipher what you're trying to tell him. Instead you shrug and unwrap and ice lolly, gaze focusing on where you can finally see Oliver on the horizon; you wave, but keep your voice low as you add to Felix.

"There's no dick that's going to cure world hunger by itself, you know?"

And no, at the time Felix doesn't exactly understand what you mean by that. Yet.

[sociopathicartist]

“vanilla?”

“No.”

“lavender?”

“No!”

“i give up.” Sans tossed his hands up in defeat, falling back onto the couch to sink into.

You rolled your eyes, lighting up a tea light candle you had and setting it on the coffee table. “You only guessed two times. It’s coconut.”

“how the hell was i supposed to guess coconut? we aren’t in hawaii, babe.” He complained, unamused by the scent of your candles.

There had been a power outage about an hour ago due to the storms outside. While you weren’t scared of the storms you did happen to be a bit scared of your entire house being pitch black, so you turned on the flashlight to your phone and started setting out tea light candles everywhere in your house. You saved them up since power outages happened a lot during the stormy summer weather.

As you had been lighting up the kitchen, your boyfriend suddenly appeared. You freaked out and almost whacked him across the skull with the lighter, which he backed up and tried to ease your freak out with a simple ‘ let’s not get things too heated, babe. ‘

Naturally, he was very amused by how you had managed to light up almost every main area in your house with little candles. He kept wandering around your house to see all the lights and would blow one or two out to annoy you, but stopped after that. Now he was just occupying himself with asking random questions while you were putting the candles out, like what their scent was.

“okay okay, you get to be alone with me for the whole week or get one dinner with ryan gosling.” Sans questioned, waving his hand up at the ceiling while he spoke.

You sighed as you placed two more candles on your TV stand. “You already know my answer. You, obviously. Even before dating you, I wasn't appealed much at the thought of dating a man.”

Sans snorted, a small twinge of blue coming up on his face. “awww, really? i guess you’re really into skeletons, you necrophile.”

“Human fetish.”

“maybe. me personally, i would choose ryan gosling.”

You turned around to walk over to him on the couch, setting the lighter down on the coffee table. “You’re a big liar and you know it. Now move or be moved.”

Sans chuckled and sat up, scooting a bit to the side as you wormed your way next to him on the couch. The layout didn’t work at first, and you both exchanged an awkward look before you moved to sit in between his legs, your back resting against his ribs. His arms rested over your chest, his mandible sitting on the top of your head. Comfortable.

“you know, i’m not critiquing your choices here, but you lit up the whole house when we won't be anywhere but the living room and bedroom,” Sans spoke to you, his voice lowered down to an attractively quiet tone which only assisted with how correct his words were.

You shook your head, your hands going to rest over his. Why did he have his mittens on right now? “Nuh-uh. Who said I was taking you up to my bedroom?”

Sans scoffed, but you could tell he was being facetious. “i was meaning to sleep, you perv.”

“Sure you were. And my candles my choices, pal. You showed up out of nowhere and choose to sit here and make fun of me for being scared of the dark.” You paused your complaints, leaning forward a bit to turn your head and look back at him. “Why did you come over here out of nowhere again?”

Sans took one of his hands off your chest, bringing it up to brush some hair out of your face while he spoke to you. “just thought you’d want the company. i know you don’t like the dark, and paps is sleeping anyway.”

You smiled and leaned your face into his hand, a bit glad he was thinking of you. There wasn’t a moment where he wasn’t, but it still made you happy nonetheless. “It was a very nice surprise. I’m glad you showed up to protect me from the hallway demons.”

There was an attempt from Sans to run his hand through your hair while he listened to you, but since he had his mittens on it was just slipping over the top of your head and making your hair all staticky. He found it a bit amusing to do even after you tried batting his hand away.

“you didn’t need to light the candles you know.” He suggested another solution, successfully nagging your attention.

You know him well enough for it to only take 3 seconds to realize what he was getting behind.

“i have something that glows.” He was holding back laughter, partially from his upcoming joke and partially because of your expression.

“Shaddap. You come over to my house and make disgusting jokes. How sick.” You moved your head away from his hand, trying to pat down the static he was causing.

Sans’ hand kept trying to rub on your hair, his mitten charged up with electric static now.

He snickered, both his hands cupping your face to make you look at him. “deez nuts.”

“Out of my house.” You let him hold onto your face, enjoying the little shenanigans he was up to.

He didn’t answer back with a witty pun or joke, instead just pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. “there there. it must be so hard having such a hilarious boyfriend.”

“No.” You wrapped your arms around him in an attempt to snuggle into his embrace.

It was hard to cuddle up to him sometimes because he was always shifting around or letting his hands roam on you until you had to call him out to stop so that you could both go to sleep. Unless he was sleeping or pretending to sleep, he seemed to have a difficult time staying in one place for too long. Sometimes though, you’d catch him after he had an exhausting day and you’d both just hold each other in comfortable silence, not moving an inch or saying a word for hours. Those were some of your favorite days.

“Sans?” You called out his name after a few minutes of quiet.

“yeah, babe?” He answered immediately, one of his hands gently rubbing up and down your back while the other petted your hair.

You thought for a few moments about your question. “How did you first know when you liked me?”

Sans inhaled deeply. He loved asking and answering these silly little romance questions with you, but sometimes it was difficult to find the correct words for an answer.

“i just knew. i looked over to you and the realization hit me. there were no second thoughts or doubts about it.”

You stared at the wall for a few moments, your thumb rubbing small circles on the back of his vertebrae just above the hood on his jacket. Your candles were starting to burn out. You needed to light up new ones in a bit.

You kept your voice quiet to match his, acting as if speaking too loud would break the moment. “Do you remember when it was?”

“oh, yeah.” His smile tugged up a bit on the ends, his genuine smile showing through at the thought of the memory. “you want me to tell you about it so that i can gush over you?”

“Yes, please.”

“okay, uhhh,” He paused before recapping his memory with you. “you were at my house. in my room to be more specific. i was showing you through one of my video games since you hadn’t played it before, but i was kinda off that day.”

It was weird to him to think about because he didn’t remember why he wasn’t feeling well that day, or what video game he was showing you. He just remembered you.

“you somehow noticed, and you asked me what was up. whenever i told you nothing was up except for the ceiling, you told me to stop lying. you said you could tell by the way my voice sounded, and how my smile drooped down just a tad. i don’t even remember if i ended up answering you, but i know i was quiet for a while. nobody had ever uh… ever seen me like that before.”

You listened to him speak. His hands had stopped moving around on you entirely, just resting on the small of your back comfortably. “Yeah?”

“yeah. i don’t know why it was like that, but it was like i was dragged out of the little reality in my head where i was noticed by everyone but not noticed enough to be cared about like that. and the worry in your voice. you just looked like a different person in that moment and from then on. it was like i saw you clearly after looking through fogged glass.”

Sans always had a really good use of his words whenever he chose to use them instead of being silly. This was one of those moments where you were fully convinced that you could listen to him talk for hours.

“I love you.”

“i love you too.”

You weren’t sure if the rush of being able to tell him that you loved him and having him respond with such little hesitation would ever go away. Sans wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to it either.

All your candles had begun to burn out since they were just little tea lights, leaving you and Sans to succumb to a slow progression of darkness.

His voice broke the silence first, as it usually did. He always had lots of things to say to you. “all your candles are burning out, babe. you wanna light up some more? the power probably won't come back on for the rest of the night.”

The power probably wouldn’t come back on for a while, he was right. “Why don’t we just go to bed? It seems like a waste to light everything again when it’s so late at night, and I know you’re tired.”

“up to bed?” His voice took back a joking tone, and you braced yourself for the devious intentions behind his words. “no need for a candle, i know something that glows, hehe.”

“Sans… Don’t say it. It doesn’t get funnier the more that you say it.”

“deez nuts in your face.”

thanks for reading:3 it’s been storming really bad down where i live, so i wanted to write a little drabble for it. uploads might be a bit slow since finals during school r catching up to me, sorry! have a lovely night:)

[whohasthecards]

What if Goose was alive and eventually, after the mission, he meets the Dagger squad, and although he is enamored with all of them ("You can't fucking talk Mav, you literally already have adoption papers drafted-", "You're just as bad as your husband, Ice."), everyone notices how he's very fond of Hangman.

Bradley especially doesn't understand as he has told his dad about the incident during the mission training where he almost threw hands with the younger man, Hangman did apologize to Rooster and Maverick after the mission, but still-

Deep inside, he knows that his dad was never the type to hold on to grudges harshly. (Unless it's about pranks. That's a different story.)

---

"Sir?" A voice behind Goose meekly asks while he was stirring a big pot of stew to feed all the old and baby aviators he decided to feed today.

Goose put a lid to leave the stew to simmer as he turned and smiled at Hangman, the younger man hunched over himself and fidgeting, a far cry from the cocky aviator his son and his friends talks about.

"What can I do for you, son? Also, no need for that formal sir nonsense, I'm retired now," Goose says smiling, hoping to ease the kid.

It seems to make the kid tense up even worst, but the kid inhaled and, "I would like to apologize for my comments towards Rooster regarding you and their relationship with one another. I was out of line, and I'm sorry. Thank you for inviting me to your home despite my actions. I understand that you may have only invited me, so that I won't be left out when you invited the whole squad, and I would just like to let you know that that's unnecessary so if you would like me to leav-"

"Woah, woah, kid, slow down," Goose said as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on his shoulder, "Thank you for your apology, I already forgave you when you saved my son and best friend's lives, you're a good man, and I knew you were a great man when you apologized to them. I invited you because I wanted you to be here, son, and don't tell them I said this," Goose leaned forward letting his voice become a soft whisper, "Mav, Rooster, and Ice wanted you to be here too, you're wanted here, kid." Goose said squeezing his shoulder. "I should actually be thanking you even more for saving my son and his stupid godfather's lives, 'smile and wave' tactic, my ass," Goose said chuckling a bit and shaking his head.

He had a front row seat to see Hangman's dumbfounded face transformed a light shade of pink as he averted his eyes.

"I don't like leaving my team behind," Hangman muttered shuffling his feet. "I didn't want to, but I was spare, I left them to go, but my job was to make them come home, I'm glad I was able too." Seresin said looking at his feet.

"I was in the navy, son, pretty sure launching against orders wasn't your job," Goose said smiling softly, "but thank you for doing it anyways."

Seresin shuffled his feet, as he went back to fiddling with his fingers, before he straightened up and look at the older man in the eye. "Well, a proper thank you involves gifts, right? How about I eat everythin' your cooking, hell, even give me first dibs as one of the stars the the show," Hangman said smirking, a confident mask settling into place.

Reminded Goose of a certain aviator.

Goose simply chuckled at that and patted the boy's shoulder one more time before turning back to the food.

"You can get first dibs if you start throwing the salad together," Goose said nodding his head to the kitchen counter beside him with the ingredients for the salad. "Get to chopping and throwing lieutenant," Goose said teasingly.

Seresin put a heart to his chest and gasps, "Making your guest work for his food? Blasphemy. Goes against my heart-core beliefs." Despite the complaints, Seresin grabbed the knife and started unwrapping the vegetables.

"Does hard work go against your beliefs?" Goose teased as he grabbed more ingredients from the fridge.

"Nope, but I didn't think I was the host for the day. Your old age catching up to you, old man?"

Goose huffed out a breathe as he passed by Seresin on the way back to the stove, "Sure, kid, let's go with that," he humored. He set the new ingredients down and ruffled the brat's hair, ignoring the squawk of protest. "Don't forget to rinse the vegetables before chopping."

---

The dagger squad started growing closer to one another, they were on leave and from what he knew, they would be stationed on the same side of the country. He told Bradley that they were invited to come over to his house, and he knew that Ice and Mav have offered their house and hangar to the squad as well.

It ended up with the Daggers seeing each other several times a week.

It was adorable how close they are.

("They keep on getting into stupid arguments and rough housing one another," Mav complained dramatically from Goose's couch. "Nearly took out my table!"

Goose raised a brow at him, "Gee wonder who that reminds me off."

"Makes me wonder if they're grown, sometimes," Mav said shaking his head.

"Kids will be kids, at least they're comfortable with you to show it, plus you were much worst when you were their age, and still worst now."

"Rude.")

He and Jake started cooking more, the kid was an excellent cook, especially behind the grill.

"Jake! I bought some steak for dinner tonight, want to help me grill it up for you and the team?" Goose said, smiling and waving his fresh catch from the grocery store.

"Too much steak is bad for your cholesterol, ya know," Jake drawled but went closer to grab the food, anyways.

"Rude, I'm not that old," Goose said rolling his eyes.

"You were alive and thriving in the 80s," Jake snarked back.

He gave the boy a light head swap for that muttering how the younger generation had no manners these days-

---

"You ever interested in reading comics?" Goose asked one day when Jake was sitting on his sofa.

"Uhhh, like the movies?" Jake said frowning looking up from his phone.

"Blasphemous, stand up, they are not like the movies, they are a different form of art."

---

"You ever baked a cake before?" Goose asked letting Jake into his home.

"I feel like this is going to become another case of me and experiencing unpaid labor," Jake drawled.

"Your payment will be in mocha-extra-chocolate cake, is that acceptable?" Goose said moving towards the kitchen, smirking as he heard the boy's footsteps following him.

"Can we put cherries in them?" Jake asked moving to clear the counter.

"Sure, son," Goose said smiling.

---

"Why is he wearing my shirt!" Bradley exclaimed pointing at Jake who was chewing cereal at the kitchen table.

"He came here after his jog, and his shirt was drenched with sweat, we wouldn't want him to get sick, would we?" Goose said setting another bowl for his son, as he sipped on his coffee.

He didn't know how those two had so much energy in the morning.

Bradley pouted and sat down, "He better not touch my other stuff."

"Why would I want to touch your other stuff, I don't want anymore chicken feathers on me," Jake said wrinkling his nose.

"Asshole."

"Dickwad."

"Jerk."

"Chicken shit."

"Okay boys, enough, and eat your cereal. Go play nice or something after breakfast," Goose said rolling his eyes as he ruffled both of their hairs as he walked to the living room to watch the morning news. Leaving the sounds of protest behind him.

Children.

[hannieehaee]

Can I request this? A wonwoo oneshot where they had a fight at the company which leads to the oc to storm out and later wonwoo finds out that on the way home she got really sick but at the moment the oc is in the library. So wonwoo mission is to get the oc out of there but she’s giving him the silent treatment somehow😁

content: established relationship, idol!wonwoo, afab reader, public argument, angst, fluff, etc.

wc: 987

a/n: i did my best to include all the main details of the prompt into a short drabble i hope u enjoy<3

masterlist

you knew you were being quite immature.

yeah, it was just a small altercation with wonwoo over some small thing, but that had just been what it snowballed into.

it had only been a few days since wonwoo got back from tour, having been gone for a few weeks with limited contact with you due to timezones and his packed schedule. you understood. you were no newbie at this. by now it had been a while since you had began dating wonwoo, so you were already an expert on the ins and outs of dating an idol. however, you still demanded some type of attention.

when wonwoo finally arrived, you had expected that maybe he'd try a little harder to spend time with you. while you understood that he was likely very tired from touring, seeing the way in which he isolated himself rather than dedicate at least a bit of his free time to you did hurt your feelings.

had he not missed you as much as you did him?

this led to a one-sided silent treatment. he, of course, didn't really notice as the two of you weren't spending much time together anyways. though you were still on speaking terms with him, you were very curt and short in your interactions. something which he, yet again, had no reaction to.

which is what led to an embarrassing argument just a few hours ago. at the company. in front of his members.

it wasn't anything too big. it was mostly complaints about his terrible time management when it cane to sustaining your relationship. already hurt and having made the mistake of not communicating your issues to your boyfriend, you snapped when you stopped by the company to get lunch with him, only to be told he already had plans with his members.

after an embarrassing rant in front of half of seventeen, you stormed out, leaving a very confused wonwoo behind and finally allowing him to realize that he had unknowingly iced you out.

it felt like shit, to be quite honest. you felt invisible to him. was picking a fight the only way to get him to react?

things weren't always like this. wonwoo had always been the most comforting person you'd known. maybe he was a little reserved and shy at times, but he was always showing you his unconditional love. whether it was through his words or through silent acts of affection, he had never made you feel unwanted or ignored.

even when he'd return from a tiring tour, he'd isolate himself with you. you'd lock yourselves away from the world and simply exist with one another, encompassing each other in the love you shared. this time around, wonwoo had somehow forgotten about you, simply sharing a living space with you rather than being your home.

the worst thing was that he was entirely unaware. the moment you confronted him, you could see the shock in his eyes. wonwoo hadn't even realized he had been withholding himself from you emotionally. the more frustrated your voice grew as you ranted, the more his confusion transformed into hurt. he was hurt at the realization that you'd been hurting because of him – all while he thought everything was fine.

this made you feel miserable as soon as you made your way out of the company. fully aware that you should've communicated your distress to him earlier, you still left, embarrassed at the scene you caused and hurt that he hadn't considered your feelings until you shoved them in his face.

was it so wrong of you to have wanted him to realize on his own? you thought he knew you better than anyone, so it shouldn't have been too difficult a task to realize. right?

and now you were alone.

upon leaving the scene, teary eyed and embarrassed that you had shown such a vulnerable part of yourself in such a public setting, – in front of some of his friends, at that – you went to the place that brought you most comfort. you needed silence, so you went to a secluded library in town.

you and wonwoo would sometimes frequent this place. as both a bookworm and the girlfriend of a popular idol, this was one of the only places you could really go with wonwoo. it was secluded and quiet, meaning that you could simply exist around each other while not being perceived by anyone else. the memory of your times together there made you feel unable to concentrate, so you simply sat in silence for a while.

it wasn't too difficult for wonwoo to find you there. he had assumed you wouldn't just go back home, so he searched from you in places he knew you loved. this had been his second guess, right after the han river, where you would sometimes walk together at night.

sitting in your usual spot, wonwoo quietly approached you, sitting next to you. neither of you said anything. the first contact between you two came in the form of wonwoo's pinky seeking your own, twisting it with yours in a sweet manner. there was no way for you to deny him, so you humored him, eventually holding his hand as his fingers graced your own.

"im sorry," he whispered, looking down at his lap.

"yeah?", you whispered back.

"i take you for granted sometimes. you wait for me here and you put up with my hectic life and i ... i forget that i should reassure you of my love. im so sure of how i feel about you that i forget to let you know every single day. it wont happen again," he finished, eyes now boring into yours.

"can you say it?"

"i love you. you'll never have to ask me again. okay? i love you."

"i love you too."

"let me take you home?" he asked, leaning into you as you sat side by side.

"yeah."

[obae-me]

I am so sad that I'm not a Solomon fucker, because if I was, I would have actually cared about the Bon Voyage event. It's kind of cute, but I am very apathetic towards good old Sol. What are your thoughts on it?

Sorry for getting to this late! I wanted to actually complete the event before I responded, and I got to it very last minute! (Since I have low-key kind of hated the events lately. I hate spending 2-6 minutes doing the songs only for five lines of text as a reward, it's almost painful, but anyways...)

Now, Solomon as a character, I love. I was very meh towards him in the original Shall We Date, but they really started working on his character towards the end, and in Nightbringer they really pulled it home! Now I love Solomon! Before, he was just kind of some sketchy little sorcerer that they usually brought in to help solve plot devices- and don't get me wrong, he's still like that, but we definitely get a deeper look into *why*.

He's an immortal human whose desire for power and knowledge was so great, he somehow went head on with nearly the entire Devildom, convinced Barbatos to make a pact with him, and then made Barbatos show him every experience he could, at least, that's what I remember from the lore dropped thus far. And what do you usually get when you get a human that knows and sees too much? A broken human. A human who feels like there is no purpose left. A human with mixed morals and a shattered ego.

Now, this part is just my own personal thoughts and theories, but Thirteen talks about how Solomon's soul used to be beautiful like MC's, but then it became ruined. I imagine it's because he 'flew to close to the sun' and it nearly broke him. MC has hope, has love, has so much to learn still, so much to give. I imagine when Solomon learned and saw everything he could, he had hardly any hope left. Nothing was new to him anymore. He spent so much of his life seeking knowledge, and once he finally got it all...what was left? It corrupted him, surely. But then, clearly, somewhere along the line, his new purpose was to protect and stand for the human realm. Then his dealings with demons began.

The game always talks about how Solomon is now closer to a demon than a human. But I think that's because he *had* to "become" a demon. He has so many pacts, had so many exchanges with the Devildom, he had to learn how to survive amongst them. The way he withholds key information until the crucial moments. The way his "accidents" always seem to line up in his favor. The way his generous actions typically end up satisfying something of his as well. Exactly what a demon does. Exactly what someone would learn spending so much time around demons. I mean, that's exactly what MC learns how to do throughout the entire game! Play it smart, do whatever you can to earn the Brother's favors, and get their pacts. And then when MC throws that concept out the window and does things just to be selfless and then gets their pacts anyway? It almost breaks the "law" of the world that Solomon has come to know.

I'd like to think that maybe that's the reason why Solomon was sent to live with Simeon and Luke in Shall We Date. He needed to learn how to be around other beings, and maybe being around angels could correct some of that.

Now, about the event, the event was actually pretty cute. And while I have my general complaints about the events being very short and shallow, this one wasn't the worst of the bunch. Solomon getting some of the demon brothers together to give you a really nice dream is such a cute thing to do (even if he went behind your back to cast a spell on you). And also I'm not sure if it was stated specifically, but I'm like 98% sure MC and Solomon shared a bed at the end there, which is really adorable. I love sleepy bed cuddles.

This kind of ties back to my insights into his character, where he's spent so long being around demons that he's not really sure how to be a normal human anymore. He spends so much of his time planning and prepping how to do something for you when all he really needed to do was ask. All he wanted was a cute little date and to watch the sunset with MC and went through like a 100 step plan just to get it. And MC's little options to scold him for his schemes is really adorable in my opinion. Essentially it boiled down to them just saying "just ask next time, you idiot!". And Solomon being one of the smartest characters in the game being so lost and confused in terms of relationships and romance is really...very cute, which is why I think I like the concept of his character so much. I love when super overpowered characters have weaknesses like this, or learning new lessons.

I also loved the concept of just Lucifer, Asmo, Luke, Belphie, and Satan all just really hamming it up for MC. They preformed for them all just as a little thank you, and when they clarified, it wasn't really for anything huge. Shopping, helping them with decisions, just spending time with them, that was enough to fully convince them to pick up this dream-world-improv. Which...is really sweet.

Man I love these boys.

[vhagarlovebot]

JUST THE TWO OF US.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairing: modern!aemond x fem!reader

summary: you end up sharing the bed with aemond.

content warnings: one bed trope, pinning, kind of cheeky aemond.

note: i don't like how this turned out but i thought about sharing it with you guys anyways. in this they all are a happy family because that is what i choose to believe. if there are any mistakes i apologize but as some of you may know english is not my first language. hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

AFTER A THEEE HOUR CAR RIDE and complaints from your friends, you finally arrive at the cabin you'll be spending the next four days.

"thank god!" aegon exclaims, jumping out of the car the second helaena parks. "i'll never let you drive again."

"don't be such a baby!" his sister laughs at him, only for aegon to show her the finger.

“i just need to get some rest," you say, yawning.

leaving everyone behind you enter the cabin, you've been here before, a few years ago with jace and his parents, and nothing has changed; the smell of cedar wood and vanilla is still there, as well as the hundreds of family photos.

"just keep that away from me." you hear aegon say, rushing inside.

"it's just a little spider." helaena has a big black spider with huge legs on her hand and is gently patting it.

"i'm sorry but i am not sleeping with that thing in the room." you slowly move away. you love her and her love for all kind of insects, but you cross the line there.

"you can sleep in aemond's room," jace pats your shoulder, a smile on his lips as he sees haleana playing with the big spider. "luke has a waterbed and i don't think you'd like that."

according to aegon, his brother couldn't make it because he had a big paper due this same week. and you'd be lying if you say you didn't feel disappointed. you were actually looking forward to this trip because you were going to see him after he went to college. also you were hoping his presence there would help you resolve your feelings about him.

it's no secret that you've been in love with aemond targaryen since you were a little girl. his silver hair and pretty smile making you feel butterflies in your tummy. and everyone knows about your infatuation. everyone but aemond. he's always been oblivious to your feelings.

"who's going to sleep in my room?" his voice startles you, turning around immediately.

his hair is a little longer, almost brushing his neck, and you don't know if it is possible but he looks taller. and just as handsome as the last time you saw him, waving goodbye at the train station.

he reads the surprise on your faces. "i finished early." he shrugs and his gaze meets yours.

"i–i was..." you lift your finger, suddenly feeling shy. "it was just because helaena has a new spider and you were not here, but i can sleep in luke's room." he just hums, taking his bag and going upstairs.

no one dares to speak but you can feel their eyes on you, so you try to hide how affected you are that he showed up by simply smiling and grabbing your own bags.

"as i said, i need to get some rest."

it was easier said than done.

luke's waterbed is very uncomfortable, making it impossible for you to sleep, and as you roll over on the bed you decide that maybe a cup of hot milk could help.

you try to be quiet, however, you bump into a chair as you enter the kitchen.

"yeah, i'm sure you didn't wake anyone up."

once again his voice startles you, heart beating really fast. aemond is leaning on the countertop, a cup of hot milk in his hands. "couldn't sleep?" he hands you his cup, a friendly smile on his face, and you accept it.

"luke's bed is horrible." you complain, thinking about how you'll have to sleep there for the next three nights. helaena's not getting rid of her new friend, and you're are not going into her room with that there.

"mmh," you take a sip without taking your eyes off of him. he seems to think while you drink the milk, feeling warmth all over your body, wanting to just curl up under the sheets. "come, let's take you to bed."

his words makes you think a bunch of obscenities but you are quick to hide the blush and smile on your face behind the cup.

aemond softly grabs your wrist, taking you with him to the second floor, past luke's bedroom and into his own.

"we can share the bed, is big enough for the both of us."

you have to bite your lower lip to stop you from smiling. any other person wouldn't have cared that you couldn't sleep, but not him. he's willing to sleep next to you if that means you can rest. and even if that makes you feel incredibly nervous, your heart yearns for him.

aemond doesn't wait for your answer, he just walks to his side of the bed to start undressing.

"what are you doing?!" you look away, cheeks heating up.

he laughs, "nothing you haven't seen before." you can pass out at any moment, that's why you choose to ignore whatever it is you're feeling and just go to sleep.

"if you snore, i'll kick you." you wish he doesn't hear how hard your heart beats.

"same thing for you."

you try to take up little space but aemond is having none of it, because he grabs you by the waist to draw you closer to him; your whole body is burning, and you don't dare to breathe.

"i won't bite." he says mischievously, and you are sure he can hear how your heart skips a beat.

faster than you would like you stop feeling his warmth on your back, as he has move away from you.

you try to regulate your breathing, ignoring the silver haired man next to you, and soon enough you are falling into a well-deserved sleep.

you don't really know how long has it been since you fell asleep but a loud noise wakes you, making you move closer to aemond, who doesn't waste a second putting his arm around your body, chest to your back and breath tickling your neck.

"if you wanted to cuddle, you should have just said it." you elbowed him, and he leaves a kiss on the top of your head. "go to sleep."

easier said than done.

you can’t close your eyes nor calm your nerves, even less regulate your breathing. and aemond notices that too.

“are you feeling alright? you’re breathing too fast,” you don’t trust your voice, so instead you hum as an answer. and even though aemond doesn’t believe you, he does not say anything and simply starts drawing circles on your waist in hopes to calm you down. “i’ll always take care of you.”

“you can’t,” you state. “you are far away in college all year.”

“and even far away in college i’ll always take care of you.” you sigh loudly, closing your eyes.

you thought you couldn't be able to sleep having him so close to you, his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine, but it takes you just a couple of minutes in his arms to fall asleep again.

[inkdemonapologist]

nobody asked but since I've seen a lil chatter on the DCTL Graphic Novel on tumblr too, here's the thread I posted on twitter, speaking as someone who's done a little freelance work as a comic artist, under the jump:

Main thought about the DCTL graphic novel preview is: yeah, I've made designs like that when I was being paid by the page and expected to just throw in extra design work for free and I have a deadline and no time to scour the source material or really put my heart into the design No shade to the artist; every complaint I have about the pages we've seen is that this looks like someone who was just working (quickly) from a script. The artist is likely not a Big Fan, so they only know the info and descriptions they're given. And the artist's portfolio shows they're capable of the kind of designs and dynamics this comic needed. its possible they phoned it in for no reason, but feels more likely to be "not enough time/not paid enough/not given enough info to give it that level of care." Which, don't get me wrong; an important level of craftsmanship and care is missing and im not gonna blame the artist but i AM gonna be a hater abt it lmao It's not just about designs; the convo with Joey is another good example. It's a literal illustration of the things Joey said and did in that scene, but it's missing the point -- that scene is our introduction to the way Joey throws Buddy off-balance. That energy is missing. And that's the sort of thing that needs the script to convey this purpose well to the artist, that needs the artist to have time & freedom to invest in portraying it, that needs time & investment & knowledge to ask for adjustments at early stages and get the page right one more note: begging batim fans 2 think abt the plot of DCTL and realise why "maybe we will not make the creepy guy who dies at the end a black man in this" is perhaps a reasonable choice. like im a fan of poc norman headcanons too but pls recognise this would be a tough call!! anyway, genuinely cannot wait to see how off sammy is gonna be in this lmao. will he be a mid non-design like norman or will he be conventionally handsome or will he get graphic novel dave miller vibes b/c hes an antagonist? will we get the fabled black hair sammy??? i cant wait

TL;DR I strongly suspect this was an issue of not enough time/not enough money. That design looks nothing like the description of Norman, right? Like, there's hundreds of different AU designs of all shapes, colours and sizes that you could create that would still look like Norman Polk, but somehow they managed to make a character that isnt ANY of them, lmao??? So... how could that happen, unless nobody gave the artist a description of Norman? Or if they did, how did that design make it past anyone else, unless there wasn't time for revisions or a system worked out for revisions, unless whoever was managing the comic project thought it was fine if the designs didn't fit with the descriptions in the book? If everyone is doing their job, then the artist is given the information they need without having to go do unpaid YA novel research before they can start drawing. That's why you have a writer adapting it!!

("they should hire fans, a fan would've done a better job" OK BUT THATS B/C FANS ARE MORE LIKELY TO ALLOW THEMSELVES TO BE EXPLOITED AND DO EXTRA UNPAID WORK B/C THEY CARE!! THATS NOT A SOLUTION!!!! THATS A JOEY DREW STRAT!!!!!!!)

Anyway I could yell about this for 15 years so I'm going to shush for now BUT I JUST FEEL VERY STRONGLY ABOUT IT LMAO.

[missadangel]

Little Bird in a Cage (Javier Peña x Reader)

Part 15: Under Arrest (WARNING +18, Smut)

it was pain in the ass to write this episode guys, enjoy :)

----------- All episodes here --------------

It was one of those days in Laredo that spring shows all its beauty, son shines hot, wind blows cold mostly at night.

Javi has been at DEA headquarters in D.C. for two days. You didn't go with him, as it would have been better for him to go alone to make arrangements for his new assignment and plan to settle down. So you just had to wait for him return.

Anyway, you knew the town better now, you have walked along streets, visited shops several times. Sometimes you went with Chucho for groceries and sometimes on your own.

Today was one of the days you went with Chucho. After grocery shopping Chucho invited you to join him for lunch at his favourite restaurant, you gladly accepted. But you had to buy personal and girly things, so after lunch, you excused yourself, left the restaurant to meet him later.

Your relationship with Chucho is becoming more and more like a father-daughter relationship such that you were scolded by him when he wanted to give you money and you didn't take it. In Javi’s absence he wanted to look after you which was so cute.

In fact, you had absolutely no need for his money or anyone else's. Your father was a man who thinks and planning everything in detail so he made sure Dolores put stack of US dollars -enough to buy a house- and valuables in your suitcase before you left. It was more than you needed, so everytime Javi or Chucho wanted to give you money, you didn't want to take it. Eventually Javi has stopped asking, but you didn't want to offend Chucho.

With the money he gives, you only buying house needs, making the house look like a woman lives inside. Everytime he realizes new kitchen utensils at home, he complaines at first but later liked it, and then he just let it go.

Looks like he has no complaints about change.

As you walked past the shops, you stopped, a big smile settled on your face, it was an art and hobby shop.

Paints, pads, papers, canvas, brushes, you realised how much you missed them all. You have been feeling bored lately because you already have too much free time, so it was a tempting idea to buy a few things.

You went straight in, it wasn't a very big shop, but there were lots of different types of paint you needed. There was no one inside, just a noise coming from behind the door, so you decided to check the paints until the shopkeeper came. Then you noticed a canvas and paints with the lid open, someone had just been painting here.

According to the painting on the canvas, the artist was not yet very successful and obviously lacked technical skills. It was none of your business, but you were eager to correct it or give advice.

‘May I help you?’

Suddenly, the shopkeeper's voice startled you and you looked at him. He was a man about your age, and as soon as he saw your face, his hard gaze gave way to surprise and then shyness.

‘I'm sorry, I was just observing, it seems to be missing a few things so,’ your voice soft as velvet.

The young man blushed, he looked like embarrassed, but in what way?

'Yes, I'm still working on it. So, I guess, you are an artist?

'As an amateur, yes,' you said with a smile. ‘I have technical training though, I even had a few exhibitions.’

'Really?' he came closer. ‘You must be famous or well-known?’

'Here, no, but in my town, in my country, a little, yes.’

He raised his eyebrows.

'You must be the girl, the Colombian Beauty everyone has been talking about,' he tilted his head and smiled.

You let out a deep sigh, rolled your eyes.

Did they give you a fucking nickname now?

‘I guess that's my reputation here,’ you murmured.

‘People here love to talk about others especially the new ones and their appearance,’ he came over and looked at the paint in your hand. ‘What is it you need?’

‘Well, everything actually, I've left all behind, so I need new materials.’

‘Sure,’ he smiled and packed a bunch of paints in primary colours, then brushes and two different size of canvas.

A teenager boy came into the shop and looked at you with wide eyes. You frowned.

‘You? Hola señorita, we met again,’ he giggled, very excited.

‘Do you know each other?’ asked the shop owner.

When you look carefully at his face, you recognized him.

‘Ah, tequila boy,’ you smiled, and he laughed hard.

‘Anton, but you can call me whatever you like,’ he smirked.

You smiled but felt weird.

‘What are you doing here, Anton?’

‘My silly brother.”

Anton rolled his eyes. You turned to shop owner.

‘I'm Juan, by the way,’ he said, holding out his hand.

Suddenly you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

The two of them looked at you with surprise, also amazed when heard your voice like ringing, dancing in the air. You realized Juan’s hand was in the air too.

You felt ashamed, covered your mouth with hand.

‘Oh I'm so sorry your name reminds me of someone I met back in Colombia,’ you shook his hand.

‘You know someone called Juan there?’

You bit your lip, ‘Yes.’

You felt your heart starts beating fast when you remember that night.

‘I suppose he was someone important to you?’

He was suddenly very curious.

‘She's got a boyfriend here,’ Anton muttered, sounding upset.

You came to your senses, raised your eyebrows, looking at him.

‘Well, it's none of my business,’ he said then and sheepishly walked out of the shop.

You got confused.

“Please excuse my brother, I think he's experiencing his emotions on the edge because of puberty problems or hormones,” Juan sighed. “He thinks he's in love with you, stupid kid.”

“What?”

“I mean he hasn't stopped talking since the wedding day, you've met him there.”

Suddenly you remembered everything you have done.

“Oh I'm so sorry, it's all my fault,” you felt really sorry.

“It's nothing to do with you, your beauty is not a crime, after all,” he said with smile.

You blushed, but feeling guilty.

“But I'm sure he will have a girlfriend some day, so this will help him to get over.”

“I hope so,” he said with a sigh. “By the way, that's ninety dollars señorita.”

----

The underwear you brought with you were no longer usable, thanks to the all hot rough sex, you and Javi had -almost every night-, so it was urgently needed. To buy new fancy ones, you entered a lingerie boutique and bought lots of pairs. Feeling impatient for his return and excited to see his expression when he see you wearing them.

Next, you went at the pharmacy to buy tampons and personal products. As you reached for the shelf, someone reached for it at the same time you did, and when you looked up you realized it was Lorraine.

You were still nervous and surprised to see her standing in front of you. It was awkward, but it would be even more awkward if you act it’s normal.

No way.

“How's it going?” she was taking a painkiller from the shelf, her younger son was with her.

“Fine, thanks, you?” moving your hair behind your ear.

“I'm fine.”

You wanted to grab a contraceptive pill from the shelf but you felt embarrassed. You turned your head to her son, looking at you curiously. You smiled at him.

“How you doing handsome?” you blinked, he bowed his head smiling shyly but then ran towards another boy who had just walked into the shop.

“Andre!”

You looked at the boy and your gaze locked on him, this was the boy you have seen back the wedding.

Forgetting what you were doing for a moment, you walked towards to him, Lorraine murmured something meanwhile but you ignored her. The boy was smiling as he talked to his friend, but there were bruises on his face and some wounds on his arm. You swallowed hard. As you approached, the boy lowered his head, avoided eye contact. You crouched down to his level.

"Hello, is your name Andre?"

"Yes," he said in low tone.

"Nice to meet you Andre, are you all right? How did this happen?"

He covered his arm with his hand and ran out of the shop. "He's always like that," Lorraine's son whined.

"How well do you know him? Is his face and arms always like this, does he fight a lot?"

"Fight? Never, he's a fool, a coward."

"Matt! We talked about this. You shouldn't say things like that about your friends." Lorraine grabbed his hand angrily, then looked at you. "Why are you asking about Andre?"

"Do you know his family?" you lowered your voice. "Do you think he might be abused by parents?"

She said nothing, as if she'd seen this question coming.

"His mother died, I saw his dad beat him once after school for stealing money from-," she pulled his hand to make him shut up.

You got angry.

"Look, you shouldn't mind other people's business in this town," Lorraine warned you. "Especially families."

"So what, people like to gossip about other people, but they can't say anything about a little boy being abused by his parents? Really?" your voice was louder than you wanted it to be.

"It's a family matter," she'd obviously been through something like this before. "Don't mess with his dad. Come on Matt, let's go."

As you walked out of the shop, all you could think about was the boy's face and his scars, wounds. You couldn't believe it, how could a father do this to his child?

Your first instinct was to go to the sheriff's station, yes, where Javi used to be a deputy sheriff. But you didn't have any evidence or witnesses or anything. You had no choice but to wait for Javi to return.

Suddenly you realised you'd forgotten to buy the contraceptive pill and turned to go back to the pharmacy. Just then, Andre came around the other corner, back to get what he needed from the pharmacy. You waited for him to go inside and hurried in after him.

You took your medicine from the shelf and watched him as he bought a plaster and a gauze bandage. After he paid and left, you did the same before following him. As you rounded the corner, you quickened your pace and stepped in front of him.

He was surprised and stopped. You leaned down and looked at him, gently grabbing his shoulders when he looked like he was going to run back.

‘Andre, look, I want to help you, you can tell me everything, I promise I'll help you.’

He shook his head, 'No, nobody can help me.’

‘What do you mean? Of course they can, please tell me. Or why don't we go to the Sheriff’s station? I promise your father will never find out.’

The boy didn't react, you've never seen anyone look so hopeless.

You felt like something was stabbing you in the heart.

‘Mind your own business, miss, you can't help me anyway.’

'I'm not like the others in town, I'll help you no matter what, let me...'

‘No, please leave me alone,' he said and ran off.

You couldn't hold back your tears as you watched him running away. You had no intention of letting this go, you were going to help him no matter what.

----

When you told Chucho what had happened, he was surprised and angry. The next day you went to the sheriff's station together, but they couldn't help you, they wouldn't do anything without a complaint or evidence. All they could do was open an investigation.

Another day, you and Chucho went to the house where the boy lived with the deputy, as you approached the house he told you to stay in the car. He talked to him about complaints, asked Andre about his dad and all, unfortunately, this only upset Andre's father more.

You had no choice but leave them alone.

You hated that.

Before you left, you noticed the new bruise on Andre's face from distance.

It was haunting you, breaking your heart into pieces.

On the way home you were both quiet in the car, even if he’s hard-headed type, Chucho was so good-hearted man inside, that’s why he was angry as much as you were.

After a mile he suddenly hit the breaks, stopped the car. You were startled as hell, could have hit your head on the dashboard if you haven't been wearing your seatbelt, looking at him in surprise.

But he didn't look at you was busy with reversing the car.

‘Chucho, what are you doing?’

'What I’m supposed to do,' he muttered.

He was furious as he drove the car back to town at high speed. You’ve never seen him like this.

It was dark when he parked near Andre's house.

'Chucho, what are you planning?’

'I don't want to keep the poor kid around that scum for a minute,’ he growled.

'Me neither, but the cops said...'

'The boy, I mean, Andre, his mother, she,' he took a deep breath. 'She was niece of my late wife, Javi's mother. She married this man while she was pregnant had no other choice you know, that poor girl...’ his voice cracks.

You were shocked, Andre’s mother was Javi’s cousin?

‘Stepfather?’ you asked after a moment.

‘Yes, the child is the only memory that I have of that poor girl. She and Javi used to play on our porch when they were kids.’

Chucho got sad suddenly remembering his wife and her niece, Javi never talked about his mother before neither you’ve asked, so hearing from his dad, broke your heart badly, you were familiar with this feeling, you touched his hand.

‘I'm sorry, Chucho,’ you said sincerely. ‘I lost my mother when I was little too. My dad had promised her to look after me. He's a very good father, even though made some mistakes. But Andre, he isn't as lucky as me, so I wanted to help him so badly.’

He turned his head to you patting your shoulder.

‘We will, but you wait here, okay?’

‘But Chucho-’

‘Do as I say,’ he hissed.

You nodded, but having bad feeling about this.

He got out of the car and approached the porch. Your heart started beating fast. You were worried about him. The situation or danger you were in was nothing compared to the cartels or guerillas but you weren’t worry about yourself.

Chucho became someone important for you now, if something happens to him you’d never forgive yourself.

As he knocked the door Andre's father opened, but when he wouldn't let him in, Chucho pushed him back, he staggered, you got out of the car immediately, ran into the house to help him. When Chucho saw you, got angry, reminds you of Javi.

‘Take the kid and get out!’ he yelled, grabs his dad by neck but he hit his face hard.

You did as he said and looked for Andre, saw poor boy was lying unconscious on the floor. You almost fainted from anxiety, immediately picked him up, his weight made you staggered a little but you held him tight.

As you were about to get out, his dad pulled you by the hair and made you fell down. Andre fell too. Seeing him like that, you forgot your head hurts by hit, took him in your arms again with all your strength, you had to get him out of here no matter what.

Chucho has managed to punch him and knock him down, he came running to help you. He put Andre in the back seat and you sat next to him. Chucho started the engine.

‘Chucho, we need to go to the hospital right now,’ you said, Andre was mumbling but can’t open his eyes. You were scared to know why.

Chucho stopped the car in front of the emergency entrance, tires whining so loud.

The paramedics rushed Andre out, asked you a lot of questions and then called the police.

‘Your head, are you okay?’

‘Hm?’

Chucho touched your forehead with his finger, it covered with blood.

‘Come with me,’ he said, grabbing your wrist, heading inside but at that moment a police car came nowhere, two cops got out and rushed towards you.

Before you could understand why, they grabbed both of your arms behind your back.

‘Chucho F. Peña, and Y/N Botero Llano, you are under arrest for trespassing, kidnapping and wounding a child.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about, son?’ Chucho yelled at them. “You’re making a huge mistake!”

‘We rescued the boy from his cruel father, you need to arrest him, not us!’ You struggled, but they didn’t give a shit, they handcuffed you two and put you in the car.

----

Around the same time Javi arrived in Texas and was on his way home. He has missed you so much, all he could think about was holding you in his arms and touching you again.

But unfortunately he had no idea what was going on, so when he parked the car in the yard,  he was surprised to see that the lights weren't on. He looked at the clock on his wrist, it was only nine o'clock. He got worried when he found no one at home, surprised because he told Chucho two days ago that he is coming today.

He decided to get back in the car and drive into town. The stores were closed but the restaurants were still open, there was no sign of his father's car or the two of you.

But in a small town like this, word of mouth travels fast, so it was only a matter of time before he found out. He frowned when he saw a few people staring at him whispering.

He stopped by his father's favorite restaurant and asked his friend there if he has seen you two, the man told him everything.

His heart was racing as he hurried to the police station where he used to work as a deputy sheriff.

You were sitting on the floor in a temporary detention cell with two women, and one of them was asking you a lot of questions. You didn't know what her crime was, but she looked very scary face, probably a street prostitute. And unfortunately she seemed obsessed with you.

“If I was as beautiful as you, I'd make tons of money, rich as fuck,” she laughed so hard that you shuddered. The other woman, who you guessed was her friend or collogue, joined in her laughter.

Still, they were nothing compared to all the bad guys you've met, so you just ignored them.

“Honestly, what are you doing here, you don't look like a criminal.”

You preferred to keep silent and turned your head, but they didn't like it.

“Do you think she's latino?” other woman asked her friend as she grabbed your chin and examined your face. You felt nauseous not because you scared, she was smelling bad.

“Look at her face, so small and cheekbones, fuck, just like models, even I, as a woman, would like to kiss you.”

You were disgusted as she came closer to kiss you.

“Hey, get your hands off her, don't you fucking touch her!”

Your heart pounding with joy when you saw Javi. The woman snickered and stepped back.

“The handsome knight has arrives to save his lady,” they laughed again.

You ignored them, stood up and grabbed the bars.

“Are you all right?” he asked with massive concern.

You missed his voice so much.

“Yes, I am, how's Chucho?”

“He's fine, what happened to your head?” he put his hand through the bars and touched your head.

“Nothing serious, I guess.”

“You know you scared the shit out of me, what the fuck happened?”

“I'm sorry, it was my fault.”

He shook his head, “Chucho told me everything, the boy needs to come to his senses and tell cops what his father did and they will take his statement.”

“I hope he does,” you bowed your head, can’t anything but hope.

Javi put his other hand through the bars and took your face in his hands. His brown eyes look like molten chocolate.

“Look at me, I'm going to get you out of here, okay?”

You nodded, “Okay.”

“I want to kiss you so badly right now,” he murmured, his finger running over your soft lips, you blushed.

“Hey, get a room!”

You startled with their loud laughter, forgetting for a moment that they were behind you.

Javi gave them a menacing look.

“I'll be right back,” he walked out the door and closed it again, you felt abandoned when he left.

But as he said, he came back immediately, accompanied by the deputy sheriff. He opened the cell door and Javi grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out and hugged you quickly. It felt so good to hugged by him.

But the deputy opened the door to the next cell for you.

“Javi, man,” he warned.

Javi kissed the top of your head and stepped back.

“You'll be more comfortable here.”

“But,” for a moment you thought you are free.

“That's all I can do, man,” the deputy said with sad voice looking two of you.

“Thanks Frank,” Javi said without looking at him as he walked into the cell with you, kissed you on the cheek, stepped back out, you and Javi looked at each other helplessly as the deputy locked your cell.

“I'll give you two more minutes,” he said and left.

“I'll do whatever it takes to get you out, I promise,” his voice cracked.

“I know, Javi,” you said with half smile.

He stroked your cheek with his warm fingers one last time then deputy called him out and he has left.

----

During the 48 hours of detention, Javi really did everything he could.

First they released Chucho after 24 hours because Andre came to his senses and told them what his father has done to him, everything, and they prepared his statement and sent it to the court. So far so good, but it was difficult for them to release you because you were not a US citizen.

Chucho scolded Javi for not marrying you before coming here. So it would have been easier for you to become a citizen.

After long phone calls from Javi to the relevant authorities and diplomatic talks and visits, including from Steve, your sentence is commuted to a fine by court, wasn't more than you could afford though.

Javi felt like won a victory when he opened your cell, you’ll finally be released after 48 hours, he missed you so much. You were no different, 48 hours felt like 48 days, every second without him was a torture.

When you came out, you run towards him as he opens his arms for you, wrapping around you, burying his face in your hair, then held your face in his palms to touch your lips with his.

When he kissed you, you never wanted him to stop, you needed him, you needed his warm breath, his tongue tastes like honey-like and his strong arms around your waist, damn you missed those arms the most.

If you weren't still at the police station, you'd have him already, you needed him so badly. Luckily, Chucho stayed in town to accompany him while Andre placed in foster care. He wanted to take special care of him from now on, but the authorities couldn't just give him, provides temporary care until a more permanent solution can be found. He had to wait.

“Javi, I missed you so much,” you said as he drives, on your way to home, his free hand already rubbing your knee.

“Not as much as me, baby,” his eyes on you, then road, but mostly you.

He started driving faster, getting more and more impatient. You took his free hand, guiding it under your dress, then up to your chest, he felt your breasts beneath the fabric, lick his lips.

When you finally arrived the house he just parked the car, and rushed out.

He opened your door, he leaned his head towards you to met your eyes, you gazed at each other first then he kissed you on the lips.

You giggled when his mustache tickled your cheeks and he responds you by sniggering beneath your lips. The kiss deepened and you put your arms around his neck and he quickly pulled you out of the car and took you in his arms. You were unbuttoning his shirt as he carried you into the house without breaking the kiss.

You barely had time to look around before Javi slams you on the bed hard you nearly loosing your breath but you liked that much. He is on top of you immediately, pinning your wrists above your head as he kisses you roughly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your skirt slipping down so that your bare skin and your womanhood is pressing against his jeans. You felt so excited and clumsy as if doing this for the first time.

As he pulled back, you felt the hardness of him beneath his pants. He freed your wrists so he can grab your hips and you can take his shirt off. Your hands on his muscular chest, your thin fingers running through, feeling every inch of his torso.

It was beautiful.

Then he grabbed the bottom of your dress, pulling it up over your head to leave you lying beneath him naked but panties and bra, and now it is his turn to stare at your body, his brown eyes were bright and greedy. He kissed you again, this time with more passion than before with more lust than before. You felt the wetness around your inner thighs and wanted to desperately clench them together. But you couldn’t, because Javi’s leg is already in between them.

Javi grinned at your expression, “What do you want me to do, baby, tell me?” he whispered in your ear as his long fingers quickly undid your bra and threw it who knows where. Now he slipped his fingers into the hem of your panties you felt them inside your walls covering with your wetness, and bit your lip hard.

“Tell me, hermosa,” he whispered again.

“I want you, Javi,” you moaned as his fingers goes deep. “Please.”

“Where?” his low voice and his hot breathe were driving you crazy.

“Inside me, please, now!”

He snickered and took off his pants, grabs your ass with both hands and moves his face beside yours to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll give you what you want baby.”

His voice sent electricity down your spine. You could probably cum from his words.

Without a word, spreading your legs for him. He bites his lower lip in a sweet way, and positioning himself, enters inside with little moan, and starts moving faster, you feel him so deep inside you but it wasn’t enough, you wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as you pushed him deeper inside you with your heels.

You wanted him inside you up to your ribs. It wasn’t impossible but you just wanted him so badly.

He puts one hand under your ass to support you and, with the other, rubs your breasts, licking in process, it was driving you insane.

He realises this and smiles to himself as if he is proud of every feeling he caused. Seeing your slim body writhing with pleasure under his strong body is a priceless sight for him.

When your walls clinging to his every thrust, your body tingled as you feel the edge of orgasm approaching.

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispers into your ear, you could tell he’s on the edge.

You moan his name as your walls clench around his cock so hard he groans.

You came twice for him as your arms wrapped around his back and your nails dig into him.

“Fuck,” he groaned then laughed.

“Now your turn Javi, make me yours,” whispering into his ear.

With another groan he grabbed you by waist with his one arm and sat you on his lap to feel your walls tighter around his cock, grabbing your chin with the other hand, bites your bottom lip and sucks your chin as he came inside you, filling every inch up.

His moan music to your ears as he rides out remaining waves of orgasm. He eventually slows down and stops, breathing heavily, enjoying the moment between you, pressing his forehead to yours. He pulls out slowly, smirks while enjoying the sight of you, running his fingers through his hair trying to cool off, and you enjoyed seeing him with messy hair like that, even looks curly now.

He’s honestly so beautiful.

He leans on you closer to tuck your messy hair behind your ears. His warm brown eyes locked yours.

“Marry me,” his voice caresses your ears.

You raised your eyebrows. “Javi…” You wouldn’t except him to say that so sudden.

He bent down to find his trousers, grabbing and took out a black velvet ring box from the pocket, your heart started beating fast with excitement, as if it hadn't been beating fast enough from the orgasm you had earlier.

He opened the ring box and put it on the bed and slid it towards you. A ring that rests gracefully inside.

‘Marry me,’ he said again. ‘Will you marry me?’

‘Yes!’ your voice ringed like a bell.

He smiled and buried his head into you hair, you wrapped your arms around his neck, closed your eyes to savoring the moment.