#best drones to buy

[techtoio]

How to Choose the Best Drone for Your Aerial Photography

Introduction

In the dynamic world of aerial photography, drones have revolutionized how we capture stunning landscapes, events, and unique perspectives from above. Whether you are a hobbyist or a professional photographer, choosing the right drone is crucial for achieving the best results. With a myriad of options available, making an informed decision can be overwhelming. This guide from TechtoIO aims to simplify the process, providing you with comprehensive insights on how to choose the best drone for your aerial photography needs. Read to continue link

[dontforgetukraine]

Ukraine Donation Guide Master Post

(Ver. 2 updated Aug 13th, 2024) I will be reformatting this and adding more in the future when I have time.

Also a quick note, all of the groups I have found through twitter have been around long enough for them to be vetted by each other and the brigades they work with. In fact, a lot of these groups collaborate with each other too. Those that are in the fight for Ukraine have been diligent in calling out those that are grifters. Word spreads around quickly if an organization doesn't show up with what they promised. They also use their social media (often Twitter) as a means of transparency for their work.

Remember: When considering on whether to donate, always use your best judgement and donate to those you trust if you do not see what is listed is up to your standards.

Multi-Purpose

United 24 has various fundraisers dedicated to defense and drones, medical aid, rebuilding Ukraine, humanitarian demining, and science and education. You can pick which one you want to contribute to under their various projects.

Liberty Ukraine uses funds for humanitarian aid, medical supplies, protective gear and equipment, and rehabilitation therapy. You can choose which campaign of theirs to donate to.

Come Back Alive is a charitable foundation that supports Ukraine's military with competent assistance while also focusing on security and defense. They also have projects that use sports to help veterans rehabilitate. You can choose which campaign to donate to.

Serhiy Prytula Charity Foundation works to help both civilians and Ukraine's army. You can choose to donate to an active project or any of their general campaigns. Civilian aid campaigns cover temporary housing, supporting crisis and emergency responses, schools, demining, and healthcare. Military aid campaigns cover drones, optics units, communications equipment, and support of air defense teams.

Food Aid

World Central Kitchen works with local partners wherever they are providing food aid. They make sure meals and meal kits are what the local population eats. Even though there is no separate fundraising campaign for Ukraine (that I can see), they still do great work.

Animal Rescue

Hachiko Foundation works to help displaced pets and strays in frontline areas. They help with veterinary care, outdoor shelters, setting up feeding stations, and rehoming animals.

Medical Aid

Hospitallers (Website) is a volunteer organization of paramedics that was founded in 2014. They evacuate the wounded, provide medical aid on the frontlines, assist in rehabilitation, and transfer of the deceased to burial sites. They are also supported by Ukraine Charity. Visit Hospitallers' website to see how many they have evacuated, different methods you can donate, and more information about them.

Other

Saint Javelin (Twitter; Website) is a great place to get apparel, gear, and other cool loot to show your support for Ukraine. They don't take donations, but instead raise funds through their shop with a portion of their sales going towards humanitarian aid and critical items needed by the defenders (generators, pick-up trucks, medical supplies etc). Part of their shop has items made in Ukraine to support Ukrainian businesses. Overall, their products are high-quality. I include them due to their impactful presence in the Twitter community I follow and how they make Ukraine visible in an alternative way. Consider buying someone a gift from their shop.

The Kyiv Independent (Twitter; Website) is a great English language resource for news about Ukraine. I include them because I think supporting good journalism is incredibly important, especially now when the information space is fraught with Russian propaganda, misinformation, and disinformation. My followers have probably noticed I've pulled a lot of quotes from their stories in an effort to amplify Ukrainian voices and experiences. Look on their website for more information on different way to support them, such as their Patreon.

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If you're on twitter, there are a number of groups and people that fundraise for Ukraine and for specific units fighting on the frontlines. If there is no official website, a PayPal for donations is listed in their profiles. When considering on whether to donate, always use your best judgement and donate to those you trust if you do not see what is listed is up to your standards.

@/Teoyaomiquu almost always has a fundraiser for Liberty Ukraine with a specified purpose. At the time of writing this, he is currently raising funds for engineering equipment such as excavators. One such excavator is already in Kursk. Follow him to stay up to date with what he's fundraising for.

Dyga's Paw (Twitter: @/dzygaspaw) is a smaller group that has recently raised funds for starlinks, drones, batteries, and Ecoflow generators. You can look at the fundraising campaigns they currently have on their website.

@/DefactoHumanity represents and founded Planet of the People with their website U(a)nited for Freedom. She frequently posts updates about their fundraisers and what their partners need. They are known for providing Frontline medical aid supplies, protective equipment and other military aid, technical equipment (starlinks, drones, scopes, etc), and infrastructure equipment (generators, vehicles, power stations, etc). They even have a merch store of the battalions they partner with if that's your jam. Here is their link tree if you wish to explore more. And in case you're curious, there is an article bout the founder here.

@/wilendhornets (Website) specialize in making high quality drones that have gotten a lot of praise from Ukraine's army. They have attracted a lot of media attention too. Check out their website for the list of articles that have been written about them. Their Twitter is very active with strike footage.

Ants Kitchen Hub (@/ants_kyiv) is a volunteer kitchen that makes dry rations for the Ukrainian army. They are more active on their other social media. To learn more about them, check out their link tree.

@/frontlinekit (Front Line Kitchen) is represented by Richard Woodruff. Originally they made shelf stable food for the Ukrainian army, but now their fundraising has branched out to other campaigns such as raising funds for medical supplies and drones. They are a well known group that many battalions have come to for help.

@/bekamaciorowski (Rebekah Maciorowski) is as combat medic and nurse who helps provide medical care to soldiers and civillians at the frontlines. She raises funds for medical supplies and other equipment, but also helps train soldiers in first aid. More of her social media that features her work can be found in her link tree.

@/UkraineAidOps (Website) is another organization battalions frequently go to for help. They fundraise for all sorts of equipment from medical supplies to drones. If you're interested, they also have a shop with patches from different brigades and flags signed by soldiers. Their shop also includes a separate section called the Victory Gallery where artifacts from the war are turned into art. This includes shells that are painted on, scrap metal from downed enemy planes are turned into keychains, and pieces of a rocket are turned into lamps.

Chris Garrett is the co-founder of Prevail. His organization deals with humanitarian demining as well as training for trauma care, training of bomb disposal, and education to the public. Prevail works with local agencies in Ukraine as well as the army.

Project Konstantin (Twitter; Website; Linktree) is still going strong after the death of their founder, British paramedic Peter Fouché. His digital ghost can be found here. They collaborate with the military, thus giving them an insight into what is dearly needed. They often raise funds for starlinks, personalized first aid kits (IFAKs), generators, portable power stations, and other nonlethal military equipment. I regret forgetting them the first time this post went around. Visit their website to see everything they have done and more. It has more information on what and how they do it than this post can cover.

One Team One Fight (Twitter; Website; Linktree) has some of the original members that worked for Ukraine Aid Ops. They formed their own group after differences with the previous one, and are still helping Ukraine. They are very visible on various social media showing what they have accomplished in their deliveries to various brigades. They're another group that seeks to bring starlinks, drones, medical supplies and protective gear to the battalions that come to them for help. Check out their website for more information on their current fundraisers, their achievements, and received recognition.

NAFO 69th Sniffing Brigade (Twitter; Website) Another small group that focuses their funds on delivering drones, generators, vehicles, and saving the occasional furry companion. They are very diligent in their updates for their fundraising campaigns. Check out their website for more information and the articles written about them.

Postmaster General Boomer (Twitter; Website) focuses on humanitarian aid, animal aid, and logistics. Boomer is the beloved pet of one of the founders and the secret boss/mascot. They have many transparency reports and are diligent in reporting the various "tours" they do in getting supplies where they are needed to go. They are based in Germany but have built up many connections during their existence. They have also worked closely with Ukraine Aid Ops.

--

I am sure I have forgotten some, so please reply or comment with any more I should add to this master post. I will edit and update as I see and evaluate more.

Last updated: Aug. 13th, 2024

Version updates listed below

August 13th, 2024 Added:

Hospitallers

Saint Javelin

The Kyiv Independent

Project Konstantin

1 Team 1 Fight

NAFO 69th Sniffing Brigade

Post Master General Boomer

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Month - August 2024

1.Negative Power Prices Hit Europe as Renewable Energy Floods the Grid

European power markets are experiencing a notable shift as renewable energy sources, particularly wind and solar, become a larger part of the energy mix. On Wednesday, power prices in several European markets, including Germany, dipped below zero due to a surge in green electricity production.

2. Taiwan introduces ban on performances by captive wild animals

Live performances by wild animals held in captivity, including performances by dolphins, tigers, and other non-domesticated mammals, will no longer be permitted in Taiwan under new Ministry of Agriculture (MOA) regulations.

3. FTC bans fake online reviews, inflated social media influence; rule takes effect in October

The FTC voted unanimously to ban marketers from using fake reviews, such as those generated with AI technology, and other misleading advertising practices.

The ban also forbids marketers from exaggerating their own influence by, for example, paying for bots to inflate their follower count.

4. Chinese drones will fly trash out of Everest slopes

Come autumn, Nepal will deploy heavy lifter drones to transport garbage from the 6,812-metre tall Ama Dablam, south of Everest. This will be the first commercial work an unmanned aerial vehicle does in Nepal’s high-altitude zone.

The heavy lifter from China’s biggest drone maker, Da Jiang Innovations (DJI), will take on tasks traditionally handled by Sherpas. Officials believe it will help reduce casualties on Everest.

5. Swiss scientists have found a way to use the whole cocoa fruit to make chocolate and not just taking beans and discarding the rest.

Kim Mishra (L) and Anian Schreiber (R) cooperated on the new chocolate making process

Food scientists in Switzerland have come up with a way to make chocolate using the entire cocoa fruit rather than just the beans - and without using sugar.

The chocolate, developed at Zurich’s prestigious Federal Institute of Technology by scientist Kim Mishra and his team includes the cocoa fruit pulp, the juice, and the husk, or endocarp.

6. Six-year-old boy found in Vietnam forest after five days

A six-year-old boy who was missing for five days has been found deep in a forest in Vietnam. Dang Tien Lam, who lives in the northwestern Yen Bai province, was playing in a stream with his nine siblings on 17 August when he wandered into the hills and got lost, local reports said.

He was found on Wednesday by local farmers who heard a child's cry while they were clearing a cinnamon field close to the forest.

7. Lego plans to make half the plastic in bricks from renewable materials by 2026

Lego plans to make half the plastic in its bricks from renewable or recycled material rather than fossil fuels by 2026, in its latest effort to ensure its toys are more environmentally friendly.

The Danish company last year ditched efforts to make bricks entirely from recycled bottles because of cost and production issues. At the moment, 22% of the material in its colourful bricks is not made from fossil fuels.

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That's it for this month :)

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[taylrswiftbf]

Beantech Foldable GPS Drone with 4K UHD EIS Camera for Adults, 5G Transmission Drones with Brushless Motor, Follow Me, Auto Return Home, Encircling Flight Quadcopter with 3-Axis Gimbal Camera

purchase link: https://amzn.to/3Tqs93O

About this item

4K CAMERA WITH EIS & 3 AXIS GIMBAL: Speedbird I63E drones for adults with 4K UHD camera and 3-Axis Motorized Gimbal can freely be adjusted different shooting angle to get a clear video or images with deep contrast and vivid colors. Built-in EIS (Electronic Image Stabilization) can achieve reduces blurring and ensures video quality to maximize this effect. It ensures shooting images and videos stably even when working fast at high altitude. SUPERIOR 5G SEAMLESS TRANSMISSION : The headless aircraft supports 5G WiFi transmission that can save 4K video at 30 frames per second. Guarantees longer and smooth image & video transmission and show you real time picture or video in your phone. On-board memory card reader can also record your experiences. HIGH ALTITUDE & POWERFUL PERFORMANCE: With a max altitude of 394 ft and a flight time of 25 mins. Our rc quadcopters has a maximum takeoff altitude of 10,000 ft. Let you explore to your heart’s content and reach new heights. Our helicopter not only capture great video at slow speeds but also race across the sky at speeds up to 25mph. And it withstand up to level 4 winds allowing you to make the most of any day whether you’re flying along a windy beach or soaring high above the trees. INTELLIGENT FLIGHT FEATURES: GPS drones for adults, multiple GPS functions such as Follow Me, Waypoint Flight, Tap Fly and Point of Interest enable the drone to fly automatically and free your hands. Never lose the airplane. It returns automatically whenever you press one key return, low battery or lost signal. Let your family enjoy the creative fun of flight together! PROFESSIONAL DRONES: For professional personnel, The Speedbird I63E is undoubtedly a reliable professional drone with camera,4K camera lens, Ultra high-definition picture quality, GPS intelligent function, all will enhance your flying experience.

[ickadori]

OMG I love you mean reader au, I have a question!!

¿Does the reader ever makes Yuuji jealous on purpose? Maybe with someone they don't see as often because everyone close knows Yuujis girl backs and also bites , so I can see her doing it with maybe someone from Kyoto.

I feel Yuuji is the kind to let it pass or act oblivious cuz he knows I would piss her off but when they are on private he let's her know that playing stupid games lead you to win stupid prices.

Anyways as you can see I'm super super invested in you au, you are an amazing writer❤️

[cws] fem reader. i named the kyoto student ryo. sukuna takes over at the end. anal at the end. overstimulation. half a sprinkle of impact play -> like 2 spanks.

You’re always so dismissive to everyone, especially to those who aren’t in your inner circle. If you don’t interact with them on a daily basis, you couldn’t care less to hear what they have to say, and it’s not an unusual sight to see you rudely walk away mid conversation.

The same could be said for the Kyoto students.

You weren’t friendly with any of them, and had even ended up on bad terms with a few due to your nature. Yuji had been sure he was going to have to intervene in at least five times with the same person in order to keep the peace during their impromptu visit, but to his surprise, to everyone’s surprise, you had been on your best behavior.

You had greeted everyone, albeit with an annoyed ‘hey’ followed by a roll of your eyes, but that was leagues better than what you had done last year! When Todo had intruded on you and Yuji’s conversation, you hadn’t tried to smash Maki’s cursed tool against his head like you usually do, but had rather pursed your lips and excused yourself from the conversation, leaving him to listen to tales about Takada and other nonsensical things.

All in all, the day was going alright. You hadn’t gotten into a heated argument with anyone, nor had he sensed any spikes in cursed energy for the last hour or so that you had been out of his sight. Deciding that he’d just about enough of Todo droning on and on about the feeling of Takada’s hand in his own, Yuji begins to plot his escape.”

“It was a riveting—”

“You heard that?” Yuji cuts Todo off, eyebrows furrowed as he cups his hand to his ear. “I think that’s my girlfriend screaming in agonizing pain—gotta go.” He jogs away, ignoring the call of his name, and snickers to himself as he rounds the corner, one hand slipping into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

Just where are you, he thinks to himself as he scrolls to your contact, a smile breaking out onto his face at the sight of your contact picture. It showcased you giving him an annoyed look, face scrunched up cutely as you had your hand raised, a failed attempt to block your face from the camera. He shoots you a quick text asking where you are, followed by a barrage of heart emojis and kiss emojis, and he stops in front of the vending machine as he waits for your reply, deciding to buy himself and you a drink.

He’s halfway through his soda when you suddenly come rounding the corner, and he smiles as he pockets his phone, only for his smile to falter a bit when he notices that you’re smiling too, at someone that isn’t him—which isn’t a problem in and of itself! Yuji isn’t some crazy jealous guy, but it’s weird to see you look so… jolly. Who are you talking to?

A second person comes around the corner, and his face sours as he recognizes it as Kyoto’s newest 3rd year, Ryo. Yuji tries to be friendly with everyone, but he written the man off from the moment he saw him, not liking the way his eyes had raked you up and down while you had standing right beside Yuji—what was he, blind? It had been so obvious the two of you were together, what with the way Yuji had been trying to fuse your mouths together.

“Yuji,” you call, eyes crinkling as you grab ahold of Ryo’s wrist and pulls him over. Yuji takes another sip of his soda, cursing to himself when he feels Sukuna start to stir inside him. “You remember Ryo, right?”

It’s a tease—he knows it is. He had spent the better half of an hour that day complaining to you about him, while Sukuna had laughed and suggested he ‘pluck his fucking eyes out next time, brat, problem solved’, which he would never do, obviously, but the idea was a bit enticing…especially now, as Yuji is forced to watch the way Ryo takes in your ass when you stretch up to place a kiss on his cheek while you take your drink from his hand.

“He says he’s been thinking about transferring here, right?” You direct your attention to Ryo as you spin around, his eyes darting up to your face, and Yuji can’t keep his clear annoyance off his face.

“Right. I’m really liking the vibe here for some reason.” He grins, and Yuji nearly drags you away in response.

“Hm. Wonder why that is?” You giggle, fucking giggle, and an anger that’s part his own and part his curse’s begins to fester in his gut. Yuji sees the two of you stiffen, no doubt due to Sukuna’s sudden spike in energy, and he gathers the back of your shirt in his hand, the veins along the back of his hand protruding as he tugs you back into him. “Y… Yuji?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His chin hovers over your shoulder as he stares Ryo down, and something must show in his eyes then, because Ryo is flinching back and stuttering over his words as he takes slow steps back. “Did you want Sukuna?”

“No.” You hastily reply, and the bottle in your hand crinkles as your grip on it tightens.

“‘S that because you think I’m gonna go easy on you?”

“…”

“Because I’m not.”

~

The unmistakable ‘plap plap’ of Yuji’s hips snapping into your own is loud in the confined space, and you lift a shaky hand, intending on using it to push at his stomach. It’s snatched and pushed down against your chest before you can even fully raise it, and your mouth opens on a silent cry when he slams his cock into you.

“Yu—!”

He grunts, the hand that had been holding him above you moving to cover your mouth, leaving him no choice but to crush you with his weight. “Don’t -shit- call my name.” He rasps, beads of sweat rolling down the slope of his nose just as he rolls his hips into your, pelvis grinding down against your clit with every movement.

You’re sensitive, sore, and every touch, every stroke, sends a pleasurable pain zapping through your body. You don’t know how many times you’ve come, or how long it’s been since Yuji practically dragged you into a supply closet and got you down on your back, with Sukuna goading him on the entire time.

‘You gonna finally put her in her place, brat?’

‘Y’know she’s gonna do it again unless you punish her.’

‘Look how she was smiling. She did it on purpose. You’re too soft on her - let me deal with it.’

‘What’re you doing, idiot? Get your mouth off her cunt. Is this a fucking reward or a punishment?’

‘Slap her around—shut up, girl. Do it. She likes it, see? Look at the mess she’s making on our cock.’

A particularly hard thrust has your eyes rolling and your toes curling in your loafers, and your mouth falls open when he brushes against that spot, eyebrows pulling together as a fresh bout of tears spring to your eyes.

“You crying now?” Sukuna snarks, and Yuji falters, his eyes popping open from where they had been squeezed shut to look at your face. “Don’t fucking stop, she’s fine, she’s—”

“Yuji.”

“Sweet girl,” he answers, hands moving to cup the sides of your face. “Don’t cry - are you sensitive?” You weakly nod, cunt fluttering as he runs his nose along your cheek. “Do you want me to be softer? Just tell…” Yuji goes slack against you, and your eyes widen, hands moving to push at his shoulders, only for them to tense under your grip as a low laugh leaves him.

“Sukuna,” it comes out in a pitiful whine, and you wince at the slow drag of his cock along your walls as he pulls out, thick shaft sliding up between your folds as he bumps the head against your clit.

“It’s been a while,” his head pulls back, allowing you to see the grin stretched across his face, and you drop your gaze as you keep your mouth, earning another laugh. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared.” His touch is rough as he grips at your sides, nails biting into your skin, and you gasp when he’s suddenly flipping you over, one hand leaving your waist to smack at your ass. “Do it how I like it.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you shuffle so you’re up on your knees, butt lifted into the air while your chest is flush to the floor. Sukuna smacks you again, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, and you can’t help the moan that slips out when he spreads you open, his hips jutting forward so he can rut his cock against your cunt, a jolt racing up your spine when he goes over your clit.

“Ah, poor pussy is sensitive, yeah?” His tone is mocking, but you nod nonetheless. “Hm.” He pops the tip into your hole, fucking it in just a bit before pulling it back out to continue what he was doing. “Guess we’ve gotta pick another hole then, don’t we?”

“Suku—ah!” His hand reaches underneath you to deliver a swift slap to your cunt, fingers catching your clit, and you let out a pitiful little whimper.

“Quiet.” He spreads you open further, and a shaky breath leaves you when a glob of split lands on your puckered hole, his thumb spreading the wetness around before slowly pushing it in. “Only the good little girls get to speak.”

His cockhead replaces his thumb, and your breath comes out in pants as he eases himself in, stretching you impossibly wide as he forces himself to fit.

“I hope you’re watching, brat — no worries if you aren’t, I don’t mind repeating the lesson later.”

[highvern]

Patterns I

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (21+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: fuckboy(ish) wonwoo, friends(?) with benefits, multiple sex scenes, oral (f. & m. receiving), choking, face fucking, penetrative sex

Length: ~10k

Note: woooohoooo part 1 done. let me know what you guys think! thank you @gyuswhore for being my beta and talking me down from a complete meltdown lmao

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“And if you look at this chart, you can see profit margins over the past three quarters have steadily increased…”

Mona drones on and on. You try to listen and nod along but there’s only so much enthusiasm that can be faked for a last minute afternoon meeting on a Friday. Maybe if she was saying anything with an ounce of meaning you’d pay attention. But the numbers she spout off on record profits only confirm what the company who hired your team already knows: if they give their employees more work for less pay, they’ll make more money.

The vibration of your phone wakes you up. Peering into your lap under the table, you see your roommate’s name flash across the screen.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: ruby’s tonight Y/N: Do I have a choice?

You don’t even lock your phone before she responds.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: nope!

“Y/N, do you mind sharing the latest reports?” 

Head jerking up, you meet Mona’s gaze across the room. She flashes a tight smile, clearly having caught your moment of distraction. Lucky for you, you could recite the reports in your sleep.

You smile and say all the right things; make all the right jokes. Just enough personality they feel special but not so much they feel like you’re a real human being outside of your job.

“All right. I think we’ve covered everything.” Mona claps. “Edgar and I will be on call this weekend if anything comes up.”

Shuffling out with the rest of your coworkers, you beeline back to your desk. 

Mona breezes by, slamming the door to her office shut.

“Do you think Mona has eyes in the back of her head?” Edgar asks, peeking over the wall dividing your cubicles.

Without looking away from the email crowding your screen you quip, “No, but I hear she sleeps in a coffin.”

“Huh. I thought that was just the hottest office furniture tread for execs.”

You snort in response. 

Mona was a hard ass but she was good at her job. 

“Anyway, any plans this weekend?”

“Get drunk and watch Love Island.”

Edgar gasps, hand to his chest like a scandalized debutant. “You wild woman.”

The next two hours crawl by. Not even the usual side projects keep you entertained, giving you time to research the new art installation downtown Lisa mentioned visiting. 

Hopefully buying tickets as her early birthday present will get you off the hook for tonight.

In true Lisa fashion, a surprise gift means celebration. And the best place to celebrate is Ruby’s.

Smoke chokes the air, bodies upon bodies packed into the space of the dingy bar on a Friday night. The chill of the outside stops at the threshold of the door, sweltering heat greeting you and your friends as you join the crows eager to celebrate the weekend.

It’s almost too dark to see faces but Mingyu’s head of dark hair stands above the rest from his perch in the corner. Lisa’s hand finds yours, and your other hand find’s Amina as you shoulder towards the table he’s claimed for the night. The bass of whatever remix blaring through the DJ’s speakers thrums through the crush of drunk patrons like a frantic heartbeat, rattling your bones with each step deeper into the space.

The glossy surface of the table is already littered with cups and beer bottles. Mingyu cuts his conversation with Wonwoo short to greet your group, smiling over Lisa’s head already buried in his chest. Wonwoo's only acknowledgement is a short nod over the top of the bottle he lifts to his lips. 

A pair of not so sly eyes wander down your front, tracing across the deep v of your top, baring your sternum between the swell of your breasts. You burn under Wonwoo’s blatant gawking, breath stalled and face hot but none of your friends appear to notice the electricity crackling between you two, intoxicated brains filling with lewd ideas. 

Needing a reprieve, you slither to the bar in search of a drink. Slipping between the sweaty bodies as they part, Amina follows close behind. A few shots and a beer later, you stumble towards the dance floor with laughter on your lips and the bitter singe of alcohol on your tongue.

The crowd of strangers accepts you, swallowing you into the churning chaos immediately. A few familiar faces stand out in the crowd as you shift through the sway.

Looking over the shoulder of the random person in front of you, a mess of limbs better known as Lisa and Mingyu flashes into view; Soonyoung and Eva no better next to them. Over their embrace, you spot Amina dancing with a pretty stranger of her own, both of them with drunk smiles plastered on their faces. 

Head dizzily bobbing to the music, your eyes slip shut. You know it's Wonwoo at your back, hips following closely, one hand around your waist and the other dragging a path of fire across your thigh. 

This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in this particular position. Since your roommates started dating, and whenever alcohol was close enough to serve as a believable excuse, you managed to find each other like super charged magnets; gluing together and drowning heady touches.

It wasn’t like anything more happened. That was the excuse you told yourself after the first time. A girls night out Mingyu and Wonwoo happened to stumble upon. You’d still been upset about the breakup with Seungcheol two months prior, indulging in the shitty white wine that only served to fuel your boldness.

You’d never admit seeking out Wonwoo with the knowledge Seungcheol couldn’t stand him; taking sick satisfaction in imagining the look on Seungcheol’s face as you let Wonwoo touch the way previously reserved for him. You pressed against Wonwoo’s front with little care for who saw; a challenging gleam in your glassy eyes, daring him to push away. Not one to be bested, Wonwoo pressed back, and the rest is history.

After the first night of the new game, you went home and came embarrassingly fast to the fantasy of what would have inevitably happened if he’d followed. The week after consisted of staunchly avoiding Wonwoo. Guilt and disgust plagued every waking moment, and if you had to look at him you knew you’d feel worse. 

Your only real connection was your roommate Lisa dating his roommate Mingyu which meant your evasiveness went undetected for nearly a month before Wonwoo managed to corner you at a party and demand to know what your “fucking problem” was. It was then you realized he either didn’t remember what happened or didn’t think it was anything to make such a big deal about. You never asked for specifics but came to the conclusion: If he didn’t care, then why should you? It was just a bit of fun. A game of chicken neither intended to end. 

Each time you came across each other on the weekends after, the stakes increased. One night, you let wandering hands catalog the planes hard muscle hidden underneath the fabric of his shirt. The next, you followed a trail of goosebumps across his neck with tongue and teeth. 

And Wonwoo called your bluff everytime. His thumb tracing against the underside of your breast while delivering a particularly harsh grind of his hips, leaving very little to the imagination of what hid behind the zipper of his jeans. Or when he spun you around, hypnotizing you with his eyes while pawing your ass, dragging your core across his thigh wedged between your legs.

But whatever transpired fizzled away by the time the night ended, both of you content to go separate ways and ignore whatever was left on the dance floor (or occasionally a wall). Tonight would be no different. It never was. It never would be.

Wonwoo was fun to play with but that's all. Throw him flirty smiles, indulge in the bold touches, take a thrill in the chase and then retreat to the safety of the bar or drag one of your friends to the bathroom for a break. He let go without any argument; something you found disappointing much to your own chagrin. But Wonwoo’s eyes never left your figure the second it left his arms. Even if he found a new partner, he would watch you while he did everything he had already done and then all the things he would have done if you stayed.

“Come home with me,” he whispers in your ear, more of a command than a question, breaking the delicate silence surrounding your unspoken attraction.

The air in your chest thickens to a sludge. For a second, you think you misheard him, possibly hallucinating that he’s spoken at all. With the thrum of music and shouts it’s not out of the question.

Unable to turn in his tight grip, you settle for leaning back against his shoulder, neck stretching, giving him a direct view down your top, his eyes privy to the fact that you hadn’t worn a bra. His chest plastered against your back heaves with a heavy breath as you continue to move against him. 

Wonwoo tries again, his hand squeezing your waist gently, pulling you closer to his body to feel the evidence of his arousal. “Come home with me.” 

It's just the next level to the game, you think. The fantasy is tempting; taking you back to his apartment, spreading you out across his bed and making good on all the promises he’s teased into your skin for months.

If he wants to play, you’ll play too.

“What’s in it for me?” you hum, lips brushing his ear in a mimic of his motion moments ago. 

Wonwoo responds with another curl of his hips against your ass.

God, he’s good at this. Wonwoo is the only guy to spark any kind of interest since Seungcheol left months ago. Not for lack of trying but they were either too tall, too short, weird hair, awful laugh. The list of excuses goes on and on. Subconsciously, you’d been comparing them all to the man behind you and found each of them lacking. But if Wonwoo wants to progress to the next level, he’ll need to work for it.

“Not convincing enough,” you chide.

The hand on your thigh pauses, taking a second to squeeze the supple flesh before setting a new course. Wonwoo moves slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop his advance if you wish. Not sensing an objection, he pushes forward. Even over the thick denim of your jeans, Wonwoo’s palm scorches against the zipper. Continuing lower, he grinds the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, nothing more than mockery of the real thing but it has you shuddering all the same. The slope of your shoulder stings under his mouth, licking waves of fire across the nerves with each nip of his teeth. 

Wonwoo pants against the shell of your ear on the next rock of his hand, laughing as your nails dig into his wrist before he whispers, “Unless you want our friends to watch, trust me.” 

You need to see his face; need to look in Wonwoo’s eyes and find out if he’s trying to rile you up or if he’s serious.

This time when you move, Wonwoo allows you to turn in his hold. The look in his eyes tells you he would take you right here if he thought for a second you’d let him. He isn’t trying to just get a rise out of you and see you squirm. Wonwoo isn’t playing a game anymore. 

He wants you.

You nod once and Wonwoo has you both out the door and on the way to his place before the song ends.

The cold metal of the door bites into your skin, bowing your chest straight into Wonwoo’s as he crowds against you, arms caging you in on both sides. His lips are busy surveying the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping until he pauses at the hollow of your throat. His teeth raze against the sensitive skin, tongue darting out to lave against the marks he’s determined to leave. Wonwoo listens closely to the sounds leaving your throat, focusing his ministrations whenever an exceptionally satisfied purr slips out.

He takes a step forward at the feel of your hand pushing its way into his jacket, rewarding the tease of your fingers across his stomach with a suck against your jaw. The sharp pain of your nails across his scalp forces a quiet groan out his lips; something you file away for later. 

“Get us inside before your neighbors catch us with my hand down your pants,” you gasp, giving his hair a particularly harsh yank to pull him away from your breasts peeking out from the low cut of your top.

“Wouldn’t mind that,” he mumbles, diving back. 

But Wonwoo concedes, grabbing his keys from his pocket while remaining focused on leaving his mark on your sternum. 

Despite your request, you do everything but make it easier for him; thumb dipping into the waistband of his boxers before slipping inside, cupping the straining bulge confined under the tight fabric. Wonwoo falters under your attention, pressing his hips into you until you're crushed between his body and the door. When Wonwoo finally fumbles the key into the lock, the door flies open under your combined weight.

Using the momentum, Wonwoo crowds you back to the wall just inside, slamming the door shut with his foot, returning where he left off without missing a beat. A hand tilts your chin back to give him more room, and you realize he hasn’t kissed you yet. Twisting the front of his shirt, you resolve to change that.

Pulling back, Wonwoo’s brows arching in confusion, mouth falling opening to complain at being interrupted again but snapping shut when you attempt to pull him forward. 

But a hair's breadth away Wonwoo stops.

“What do you want?”

You won’t beg. If anyone is cracking first it’ll be Wonwoo. Just like he did at the bar not too long ago. 

“If you won’t tell me then I can’t give it to you.” He moves forward, nose tracing along your throat, breath fanning across your neck. One of his arms moves to the space between your body and the wall, pulling until his thigh is bracketed by yours. The hard muscle is nothing short heaven against the seam of your jeans, invoking a traitorous whimper from your throat.

You manage a chaste kiss against the side of his mouth before he darts out of range. 

“Tell me and you can have it,”  Wonwoo says, cocking his head back, looking down his nose at you from behind the wire frames of his glasses; pupils blown. His eyes close and he leans forward again before continuing, “Tell me what you want, and you can have everything.”

His teeth trail across the shell of your ear on the last word and suddenly it's all too much. The rasp of his voice, the flex of his thigh, the layers of clothing separating your bodies. If you don’t get relief soon you’ll both implode.

“Kiss me.”

You feel Wonwoo’s satisfied smile a second before your lips meet, lighting the fuse for what's to come. There’s no gentleness in the connection, instead, months of insatiable need leads the way. Parting your lips, you suck his own between your teeth until it's swollen in retaliation. Wonwoo angles your head back with a gentle tug of your hair, immediately swallowing your gasp at his roughness. The hand wrapped around the middle of your back flexes, urging, no, begging you to grind against him. You oblige with embarrassing eagerness.

Your hand finds its way down Wonwoo’s front again, fingers firm and demanding. Tracing the zipper of his jeans up and down in time with your movement against his leg, the heel of your hand presses forward, causing his hips to cant up against the pressure. The motion is a mock of what he was doing in the crowded bar minutes ago. Just enough to rile him up and to piss him off until his hands drop and squeeze your ass so hard it hurts.

Refusing to let your mouths part, Wonwoo drags you down the hallway towards his room. It takes longer than it should, both of you stopping to force the other into the wall, bodies writhing against one another in search of friction and pleasure. At one point you consider letting him fuck you right their on the floor but he pushes through the door to his room just before you can unzip his pants.

Finally inside, Wonwoo herds you towards the bed in the corner. The back of your knees hit the side, bending as you land with a soft bounce. Wonwoo follows swiftly, settling himself on his elbows before diving back into your neck again. His hips slot into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing forward to search for the heat he knows is there. You greedily return the movement, hips curling up, savoring the drag of his hard cock. Wonwoo sucks another bruise onto your neck, high enough you’ll have to hide it in the morning but you're so drunk on the idea of what is going to happen next you can’t even feign outrage. 

The strap of your flimsy top falls down and Wonwoo moves to explore the new span of skin. His lips drag over the uncovered swell of your breast, sloppy kisses trailing over the silky skin. Cocking his head to the side, he sucks a nipple through the thin black fabric. Your hips buck, back arching at the new sensation. The angle of Wonwoo’s cock is just right, pulling moan after moan from your throat. He’s so focused on what he’s doing he can’t be bothered to snicker at how he turns you into an aching puddle of want.

Clothes come off in a blur. You watch his abs flex as he rips his shirt over his head, eyes tracing the dark thatch of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants. Soon, yours is gone too, lost on the floor. Wonwoo's eyes delight in the sight of you bare before him, with nipples puckered and breasts heavy with excitement. He ducks back down, mouthing at the sensitive bud, drowning in your breathy whines and whimpers. Using his hand, his calloused thumb massages the one his mouth had abandoned, pinching and flicking until you’re left raw and aching.

“Wonwoo,” you cry, hands ripping at the sheets when his teeth come out to play. 

He pulls back from your breasts, in a frenzy to remove your pants while his knees fall to the ground on the side of the bed. You arch up to help him rip the damning fabric away. An ember of fury sparks, furious with yourself for wearing jeans over the skimpy skirt Lisa had offered.

None the wiser, Wonwoo looks between your legs like he’s found an oasis in a desert. You realize too late they’re nothing impressive. Pale pink cotton; simple, practical. Just like your pants, since getting fucked tonight wasn’t even a remote possibility when you left your apartment. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t even seem to care. When you dare to look at his face, worried by the sudden pause in his actions, you find he’s not even blinking. His thumb finds your entrance through the fabric, shallowly dipping inside before moving back and massaging teasing circles over the damp spot.

Pride and ego long forgotten, you beg. “Wonwoo, please.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t give in. Focusing on the curve of your thigh, nose etching along the strained muscle while he continues teasing touches over your underwear. The wet of his tongue comes out when he reaches the hem of your underwear. So close to where you want him but not close enough.

“Please.”

The pathetic crack of your voice is rewarded with firmer fingers and his lips against the sticky crotch of your panties; the heat of his mouth right over your entrance as he laps at your release.

Another beg and he moves aside the thin strip of fabric, curling his tongue into your entrance before sucking at your swollen clit. 

The relief is short lived. Somehow, Wonwoo knows exactly how to touch and tease you, driving you up the wall only to pull you back down. One hand finds your knee, forcing it away when you try to crush his head between your thighs at the first prod of his long fingers inside you.

He slips another finger inside, his tongue continuing to swipe at your bundle of nerves, just as desperate to give you what you want as you are to receive it. Glancing down at him again, you find a scene worthy of being immortalized in a painting. His brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes pinched tight while he works to get you off. 

A pause to take a breath is all the reprieve you’re granted before Wonwoo dives back in, moaning under the sting of your nails on his scalp; encouraging you to hold him there and use him, to come for him. The symphony of your combined noises floods the room. The squelch of his fingers, rubbing up against the place that drives you mad. The wet noises of his mouth, your arousal mixing with his spit; his noises when you pull at his hair, vibrating against your cunt and pulling your spine into a harsh curve. 

You can’t help but watch him. Enamoured with how right he looks between your legs, skin slips together where his shoulders hold your legs up. Even the contrast of his hand on your knee fuels the fire.

He peers up at you when you call his name again. Eyes burning into your own. Like he can read your mind. Like he agrees this is the best place for him to be.

You hear yourself far away, chanting his name as you shatter into a million pieces. Clenching around Wonwoo’s fingers with a strength you didn't know you possessed, your hips ride them until your muscles lock and jerk. The smear of fluid across your thighs, slipping your ass and onto the bed is lewd. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t stop, working you through it like his own release is on the line. Licking and sucking and fucking you with his fingers until you finally manage to pull him away with a choked cry of his name. Even then, his hand continues pistoning into you as your mouths find one another hungrily. 

There's a sick satisfaction in your gut at the taste on his mouth. Your arousal coats his chin, his cheeks, even the tip of his nose is wet where it digs into your face as you suck his tongue.

Moving to his feet, Wonwoo bends over you, lips never straying from yours. He fails to crowd you down into the mattress like he intends. Freezing when your hands pushing his pants down the rest of the way. His cock bobs, the nearly purple head leaking. If there was any doubt he didn’t find pleasure going down on you before, the evidence of his enjoyment sits hard and heavy in your palm. An exploratory squeeze has Wonwoo’s chin dropping to his chest, a sharp breath leaving his nose.

Sliding off the bed and to your knees, you peek up at him through your lashes, letting the tip rest against parted lips. When Wonwoo drags his head back up, looking down his nose, your tongue darts out to catch some of his pre-cum, receiving another groan in response. A thought that has you blushing rears its head. 

He’ll probably like it, you think.

You let one of her hands trail down while kissing across the velvety shaft his length. Wonwoo watches closely, eyes widening for a second when you find the apex of your thighs, dipping down to collect the lingering slickness. Once satisfied, you exchange your grip on his cock and quirk an eyebrow. Stroking him coyly.

You don’t look away from his eyes even though every instinct tells you to hide from the heat in his gaze. Your palm catches at the tip, thumb brushing his leaking slit. More evidence of his arousal trickles out and you lap it up quickly.

“Shit,” Wonwoo hisses. “Fuck, you’re so good.” 

One of Wonwoo’s hands finds your cheek, helping you find a comfortable pace. Settling the back of your head against the bed, drag him forward by his ass, content to let him use your mouth the way you used his. Wonwoo stumbles for a second at the sudden movement, hands finding the bed to prevent himself from collapsing. He peers down in question. 

“Want you to fuck my mouth,” you pant, quickly taking him back in, going as deep as possible without gagging.

“Fuuuuck,” Wonwoo rasps, moving the hand on the side of your face to the back of your head. He pins you in place with his hips, giving a shallow, almost hesitant thrust as he discovers your limits.

You zone out when he finds a rhythm, hand at the base of his cock to keep him from bottoming out in your throat, the one cradling his balls dropping to trace the inside of his thigh. Eventually, Wonwoo lets himself go, savoring the pressure of your tongue when you lap against the tip as he pulls out. His abs twitch at the sight of drool leaking from the corners of your stuffed mouth, lips stretched and bruised around his cock. 

Opening your eyes, you look right at him; punching the air from his chest as you moan around his cock, the vibration forcing his head back, neck bared again as a bead of sweat settles in the hollow of his throat.

“Touch yourself,” Wonwoo commands, breaking the melody of whimpers and groans.

You disregard his command, content with focusing on untying him from his loose tether to sanity.

Not one to be ignored, Wonwoo pulls away on the next stroke. You follow, attempting to trail forward and suck him back down your throat but Wonwoo’s hand knots in your hair. He yanks your head back until his cock is just out of range. Looking up at him, you do nothing to hide the annoyance at such a sudden disruption.

“Touch. Yourself. ” he lets out tightly, enunciating each syllable. Equally annoyed but willing to make a point. 

“Wanna watch me?” you goad, smug as the tips of his ears redden. 

Instead of brushing it off, Wonwoo takes the bait.

“Yeah I do,” he says, one hand leaving your hair, guiding the tip of his cock across the seam of your lips, letting out a humorless laugh when your tongue reaches out to meet it on instinct. “Wanna watch while you suck my cock because you’re a good girl.” 

He lets you take the head, teeth grinding under the dig of your tongue into the slit. But any attempt to take more is punished with another tug of your hair. Until his hand circles your throat and he pulls you off completely. 

“Right, Y/N?”

The praise goes straight to your head, breath stunted. You barely nod before Wonwoo moves his hips forward again, slowly resuming their previous rhythm at the promise of seeing you put on a show. Two fingers slip in with ease, disappointment bubbling when the stretch doesn’t come anywhere close to his but you’ll play along for now if it means getting to feel his cum on your tongue.

Wet, messy noises echo in the room. You hollow your cheeks, hand acting as a bumper while letting his cock kiss the back of your throat. Wonwoo’s hips stutter when you swallow around him. The tension in his muscles doubles your effort, set on the satisfaction of making him cum from just your mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Wonwoo hisses, pulling you off.

Wonwoo hauls you up into the bed, aggressively crowding you towards the pillows. The cool sheets sting against your back, but you focus on getting another fist around his cock. Wonwoo intercepts your plans before you can make it below his navel. He pins the offending appendage next to your head; grip loose enough you could break if you wanted, but the tease of his dominance turns you on even more and it's not long before he has both hands above your head, and a disapproving look on his face.

“If you don’t want me to come on your thigh, I suggest keeping your hands to yourself,” he states, leaning towards the bedside table, searching for a condom.

“Didn’t think you’d be that easy,” you bite back. Planting your feet on the bed, your hips grind up into his. 

“Says the woman who begged for my cock,” Wonwoo grinds out, flattening his chest into yours, teasing with exactly what you asked for.

You're suddenly hit by how much stronger Wonwoo is than you. Able to have your entire body pinned like it’s nothing while working the condom on at the same time. You knew he worked out, broad shoulders and narrow waist giving him away; but having that strength used you sends a swirl of butterflies through your stomach.

Wonwoo resorts to ripping open the packet with his teeth, hips easing up to quickly roll it down his length. He rubs himself through your folds, collecting the wetness and repeatedly tapping himself to your clit. You’re about to flip him around and take matters into your own hands when he catches on your entrance and presses home in a slow thrust.

He slides deep. Deeper than Seungcheol, deeper than anyone you’ve ever been with. You barely get a chance to savor it before he’s moving, wasting no time before working up a pace meant to drive you both mad. 

“Shit,” you curse.

Wonwoo huffs into your neck, tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “Yeah? Feel good?”

“Soooo good.” 

Wonwoo lets go of your hands, tangling one the sheets, the other searching for the top of the metal headboard. The change in position folds you in half, giving him the leverage to fuck as deep as possible. Finding your hands free, one claws at his back, leaving bright red lines in its wake. The other grabs for his ass, squeezing the muscle there, helping him press forward. His balls clapping against the swell of your ass drives you closer to hysteria. 

Your second orgasm rushes forward, resting on his lips finding yours. The connection is bruising, all teeth and tongues. The hand on his ass falls to play with yourself and Wonwoo breaks away to watch.

“Like that, Y/N?” Wonwoo bites, whispering right into your ear. “Fuck, you're so tight, baby.”

His words only add to the inferno. The need to come overwhelms you, demanding satisfaction to the point it hurts. But you need more. Needs something you can’t name and only Wonwoo can give. 

Frustration twists your features, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tense. Almost as if he senses your oncoming tantrum, Wonwoo drops more of his weight, pressing you into the mattress and filling you to the brink.

 “Be a good girl,” Wonwoo coos, hip punctuating each word while his teeth tug at your earlobe. “Come for me.”

His permission is the key. Bombs explode behind your eyelids, cascading colors against the black and white. Loud moans rush from your throat to fill his room, muscles locked, body convulsing with endorphins. You want to kiss him again, until you can’t breathe, until you stop needing oxygen and adapt to survive on the taste of his mouth. 

Wonwoo must feel the same, meeting you in a lazy kiss, too fucked out to put in more effort. He swallows every whimper, the syllables of his name while he fucks you through your high. The wetness smeared between your bodies echoes all the motions, his pistoning hips driving more and more from your worn cunt. 

His own high rushes for him at light speed. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours. You burn the last bit of energy you possess to open your eyes and find his. Wonwoo’s face is tight as a thin sheen of sweat covers his body. All you want now is to see him cum, give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. Reaching up, your lips brush his ear one last time.

“Wanna feel you come,” you sigh. “Please, Woo.”

The responding groan signals success. His hips stutter forward, a deep grunt bursts from his chest. If you weren’t exhausted, you’d demand to go again; to fuck him again and again just to see the twitch of his lips as he empties himself into you, the grind of his teeth, and shudder of his chest. But Wonwoo gives one more hard drive of his hips before collapsing, completely spent.

You don't know how long you stay like that, drifting in and out of consciousness as sweat dries, and your thighs becoming uncomfortably sticky. When Wonwoo moves to pull out, a surprising whine rips from your throat. 

“Shower?” he asks, husky voice breaking the lingering silence.

You finally crack an eye open at Wonwoo’s voice, and find him looking at you with soft eyes. Uh oh. Warning bells fire but you’re too tired to care. A shower sounds lovely.

Wonwoo hauls you up, leading you into his small bathroom. The water in the shower is already running, steam escaping the stall as he ushers you under. The scratches at his back contrast brightly against his pale skin, a few bite marks spattered across his chest. You know you look equally debauched but the lull of warm water calms any concerns. The silence is comfortable, thick as you move like zombies. Wonwoo passes his body wash without a word, moving to shampoo his hair. Swapping between the brutally frigid air and the comforting warm water under the shower head, you both race to finish up quickly. Once satisfied, Wonwoo shuts off the faucet and grabs the towels from the hook on the wall. He hands you one before stepping out to dry himself. A spare toothbrush waits on the counter when you exit the stall.

Wonwoo leaves first, heading back to his room to dress. It gives you the opportunity to look in the mirror for the first time. Your skin glows, both from the steam and Wonwoo’s attention. Across your throat, bruises cluster like a necklace, splotches of darkness maring the skin. Unfolding the towel, you find more littered across your breasts, and an impressive one on the inside of your thigh. 

After the shock fades, exhaustion creeps back in. It had to be far into the early hours of the morning. You hope Mingyu stayed with Lisa at your shared apartment. Having to face Wonwoo in the morning was enough horror, but if Mingyu heard anything then you would never be able to look him in the eye again despite having heard your roommate and him more times than you can count.

Returning to Wonwoo’s room, you see him already under the covers, spread out on his stomach with his face squashed into the pillow. On his desk sits a tshirt and a pair of old shorts. Hanging the towel up in his bathroom, you snag the shirt and pull it on.

Finding your pants, you fish out your phone and see the time: 3:47AM. A few missed calls from Amina, several dozen texts from the group chat, and one from Lisa that reads “You better not be where I think you are” clutter the screen. 

There's no point in arguing the accusation. She has your location, you know she checked it before she went to bed. And in the morning you’ll have to answer every inane question that pops into her head. But for now, you need to sleep.

Sliding open the group text, you send a quick “I'm alive, see u in the morning for brunch?” tossing your phone aside.

Your head hits the pillow and you’re out like a light.

The dream you’re lost in is lovely. A faceless figure bends you over a desk, your heated face pressed against the glossy wood. Naked as the day you were born, nothing protecting your nipples from rubbing against the cold surface, hardening until you hiss from sensitivity. Large warm palms massage your ass, hands pushing upwards, lightly parting the cheeks to give him more leverage to lick at your leaking hole. You can feel him moan, echoing your own sounds of pleasure as he indulges. One hand finds its way back to his head, fingers tangling in his short hair, holding him in place as you rise on tiptoes to move against his mouth. He feels familiar but it doesn’t matter who he is, more so what he plans to do. Just as a thumb swipes against your other hole, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips, it all comes crashing down.

You claw at the tendrils of pleasure slipping past to no avail. Harsh whispers outside your door pull you awake as they gain volume. It isn’t out of the ordinary to hear snippets of your roommates’ conversations as they pass down the hall towards their own rooms. Having the first room off the kitchen was the sacrifice you made to have a bigger closet and a better view. Usually though, Lisa and Amina had the decency to not have a full blowout so early, and on a weekend no less.

As the whispers crescendo into a one sided screaming match, you make out Lisa and Mingyu’s voices on the other side of the thin wood. 

“Mingyu if you don’t move out of my way there will be TWO BODIES TO CLEAN UP.” 

Lisa is pissed, using a tone of voice saved for rare occasions. Occasions you rarely witnessed Mingyu be on the receiving end of. Whatever he had done, he better pray Lisa forgives him. He also better pray you forgive him for working Lisa’s temper up so early in the morning.

“Shut the fuck up!” you yell, voice thick with sleep, refusing to open your eyes against the light trickling in from the window above. Snuggling deeper in the soft covers, you try to force yourself back asleep, hoping to reunite with the anonymous dream man.

When did the window get above your bed? 

You shoot up, instantly regretting the decision. Splinters of pain shoot behind your left eye causing you to collapse back into the pillows to find reprieve. The grumble next to you sends your heart racing.

“I’m going to kill her,” a gravely male voice threatens.

Turning on your side, you brave the torturous sunlight to catch Wonwoo’s profile. His face is scrunched in annoyance, eyes shut as he too tries to get lost in the blankets. He drags the comforter over your heads, pulling you towards him to hide in the curve of your throat.

It all comes rushing back. Going home with him, your dirty deeds, the shared shower. You beg the powers that be to kill you when you remember how you begged with embarrassing ease.

Outside his door, Lisa bellows and forces the door open; sending it cracking against the wall with the force. 

The blanket rips down, uncovering who's hiding underneath. She only manages to pull it below your shoulder before you and Wonwoo realize what's happening and clutch at the fabric. Thank god you both are wearing clothes.

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo’s voice is acidic as he looks to Mingyu over Lisa’s head. Mingyu at least has the decency to look apologetic as Lisa acts like an overly concerned mother who just found her daughter with a boy in her bed.

“See? Y/N is alive, we can leave now,” Mingyu tries in vain to placate his girlfriend. Lisa snatches her hand away from him when he attempts to pull her out of Wonwoo’s room.

Lisa’s eyes take in your tousled hair, the bruises at both your necks, the clothes littered on the floor haphazardly. She isn’t stupid, she knows exactly what has happened. Lisa also knows Wonwoo wouldn’t take advantage of you, but she is still protective nonetheless. The amused look spreading across her face nearly sends you out the window and to the cement several stories below.

“Oh my god, are you fifteen?” Her question is pointed at Wonwoo, catching the string of hickies marking your neck.

“How about you get the fuck out of my room?” Wonwoo bites, raising his voice. He burrows under your chin, dragging the blanket over his head once again.

“We’ll talk about this later!” Lisa calls as Mingyu finally drags her out the door, her voice is muffled by the slam of it shutting but you clearly hear her yell, “Brunch is in an hour!” 

Finally left alone, you mind races to prepare for the interrogation waiting for you. Wonwoo appears to be unaware of any such troubles. Cuddling down into the swell of your breasts, he’s already trailing back towards sleep. 

Despite yourself, the hand stuck under him rises up to gently trace shapes across the expanse of his back. The warm skin lulls you into a trance as the memories from the hours prior replay.

“Are you sure I can stay?” A deep yawn warps your voice. You’re  already halfway under the covers, hoping he doesn’t change his mind. If you have to stay awake any longer you’ll have a meltdown.

“Yes.” His face is still pushed into his pillow, voice distorted by the barrier and slurred with his sleep. “Now shut up and sleep.”

And you do just that. Shocking, given you’re a horrible bed partner; tossing and turning most of the night, waking frequently. Seungcheol experienced many grumpy mornings courtesy of your poor sleep hygiene after a sleepover. But in Wonwoo’s bed, your restlessness decides to take the night off, allowing you to sleep like a rock.

It can’t have been more than a couple hours before you awake again. Despite the short snooze, you’re more rested than you’ve been in months. Stretching with a yawn, you find what roused you awake. 

Somehow Wonwoo found you in his sleep, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, body firm against your back. He’s hot skin and hard muscle, the tent in his boxers sliding roughly across the naked skin of your thighs. Cursing yourself for forgoing the shorts he laid out, you try and twist away only for Wonwoo’s length to settle between the dip of your ass.

You freeze solid. Listening to the sound of his breathing stop then even out once again. Waiting to confirm he’s still asleep, you try moving away again only for his hips to press against you once you wiggle against him. Body acting on its own, your spine curls, sending your ass back into his crotch. 

And then Wonwoo’s arm around your waist flexes and he thrusts forward. 

Shit.

“Can I help you?” he asks, face buried somewhere between your shoulder blades, nose tracing your spine until he finds the bare skin of your neck to leave heated gossamer kisses.

There’s nothing left to lose. You’ve already fucked. Wonwoo face to face with your most intimate parts, and you the same. You begged him to cum inside you for Christ's sake. Giving another curl of your hips, you decide to meet his challenge.

“Can you?” you whisper into the darkness, eyes sliding close again as a tired breath leaves your nose. It's less of a goad, and more of a subtle beg for his attention.

Wonwoo drags the hand wrapped around your waist downward, wedging it between your thighs gently. You’re already wet from the brief movements against one another. He wastes no time, immediately framing your clit with two fingers, teasing friction to warm you up. The first twitch into his hand has his fingers dropping, pushing into your entrance as you parts your legs to make more room. His movements are sluggish but he placates your want the best he can.

One of your hands slides under the covers, moving behind your back to grab him. The unmistakable heat greets you through the fabric of his underwear. His breath stutters against your back, his chest pressed tightly against your back like a second skin. Wonwoo jerks forward through your fist, clothed tip prodding against the soft curve of your ass when you reach the base.

Continuing to move just like that, you both are more than content to get off like this, much too tired to put in any real effort. But when you push down his boxer just enough to feel the hot velvet skin of his tip against the dip of your spine, leaking from light touches, Wonwoo decides he wants more. Needs more. 

He pushes your hand away, directing himself between your legs, resting his tip at your entrance. With shallow thrusts forward, he lets himself catch on the ring of muscle just inside, barely parting your walls. The thought of him returning deep inside you, condom nowhere to be found, makes you drool. At some point Wonwoo’s hand finds your waist again, this time under the fabric of the flimsy t-shirt. The thick cotton bunches across your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples while his hand splays between and pulls you against him.

You have half a mind to let him fuck you like this, raw, half asleep, tucked under the covers in the silence of his room. The other half blares with sirens and red lights flashing DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! 

The louder part of your brain, the one that sounds suspiciously like when Amina scolded you for not using condoms with Seungcheol after getting an IUD, wins. 

It takes all the strength you possess  to break the trance Wonwoo has. His lips have taken to mouthing at the back of your neck, his nose tracing the notches of your spine while his tongue sends goosebumps blooming.

“Condom.” you finally manage to breathe out, voice pushing past the thick blanket of lust and fatigue.

The hand on your chest flies off, moving in the direction of the bedside table. Within seconds Wonwoo wraps himself in the latex and pushes inside.

The stretch is perfect, muscles already accommodating his languid thrusts inside you. His hips are tucked tightly along your ass, barely a sliver of space between your bodies. One of Wonwoo’s hands reaches back under your shirt to thumb your sore nipples, letting a heavy flesh rest in his palm. The arm propped under your head reaches out, Wonwoo’s fingers twisting in the pillow cases. The web of veins and muscles flex with each cant, almost ripping the fabric of the sheet apart when you clench around him. 

As if having a mind of its own, a hand trails up his neck, cradling the back of his head and tangling in short locks of hair. Wonwoo hitches his chin over your shoulder, leaning forward to moan right into your ear. Your other hand takes the abandoned post at your clit, determined to make yourself cum and pass back out in the next five minutes. 

Unlike the explosions earlier, your orgasm crawls up slowly, bubbling to the surface in a smooth simmer. Your thighs tighten, twitching as the pot boils over and melting you into Wonwoo’s chest. He follows you over the edge quickly, hips continuing their fluid rhythm until they stutter against your ass; shuddering breaths leaving his chest, a quiet groan of satisfaction punctuating his content. You can’t move even if your life depends on it, heaviness settling in your muscles like concrete.

You're already descending back into the realm of dreams when Wonwoo slips away.

Wonwoo’s soft snores jolt you back. You’re far too awake to try joining him. And you can’t just stay in his room forever. Glancing around the room, you devise an escape plan. Wonwoo’s position doesn’t lend any subtlety, any effort to move from under him requires you to lift his entire weight.

You sit still for another minute, contemplating the potential pros and cons if he is awake to see you run, away from the sanctuary of his room and into the reality sitting beyond the door. Precisely as you decide to deal with whatever teasing he’ll no doubt hurl your way, Wonwoo shifts, burrowing back into the pillow on his side to provide easy access. Waiting with bated breath, you’re relieved when the muscles of his back expand with a deep inhale as he settles in slumber once again.

Springing out of bed, you collect your phone and wrinkled clothes. The shocking level of cleanliness and organization the room possesses for a man his age aids your quest. However, your underwear appears to be a lost cause. With haste, you search under the bed, eyes scouring the area around his desk, even sneaking a quick glance back towards him to see if the missing garment is mixed with the pillows. All is fruitless as the bright pink garments have disappeared, gone without a trace.

After slipping on your pants with impressive speed, you're out of his bedroom and into the hallway. Body on autopilot, you tiptoe towards the front door.  

The cracked door of Mingyu’s room where Lisa is no doubt waiting to ambush lingers just ahead. You don’t dare to breathe as you breeze past and ruin her plans. The heavy metal of the front door groans at your pull, tensing as noise echoes in the hallway behind you. You’re swift, slipping between the crack in the door frame and into the stairwell before Lisa can even call out your name. By the time Lisa is able to pull the front door back open, you’re down the stairs and halfway through the lobby, beelining for the busy street outside.

Everyone on the street can tell you’re taking a walk of shame; their judgment burning into your skull with each step closer to home. The tale tell signs are clear as day: messy hair, t-shirt clearly belonging to someone else, eyes downcast as you move along the congested sidewalk of a Saturday morning. The only solace is the neck of Wonwoo's shirt covering a majority of the marks staining your skin. 

You don’t breathe until you round the block of your apartment. Thankfully the lobby is empty and so is the elevator as you ride up in stifling silence. Slipping through the crack of the sliding doors, you rush the remaining distance and finally find your way into sanctuary.

The door clicks shut, and the dull thud of your head meeting metal rings a second later; the cool melt against the sweat on your brow is a lovely reprieve.

The sound of a throat clearing down the hall less so.

Glaring over your shoulder, you find Amina leaning over the kitchen island, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Lisa clearly informed her of the morning's findings.

Her lips twitch with humor, choking out, “Have a good night?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, launching off the door and to your room. Sharp laughter meets your back.

Hiding away in the bathroom, you cloak yourself in steam and scrub away any remnants of the night. Starting with the piney smell of Wonwoo’s body wash. 

You run through the facts despite wanting nothing more than forgetting the entire ordeal. 

Fact: Wonwoo isn’t as horrible as Seungcheol made you believe.

Opinion: He’s still infuriating.

Fact: You slept with Wonwoo.

Opinion: It wasn’t half bad.

Fact: You won’t do it again.

Thirty minutes later, the hot water runs out and you’re forced back into reality.

She can’t look in the mirror, knowing exactly what you’ll see. The proof that can’t be scrubbed away, the proof that the you let Wonwoo fuck you silly, and that you wouldn’t mind if it happened again. 

Some time later, hidden amongst the piles of blankets littering your bed, you mope. The hood of your sweatshirt tied tightly around your head leaving only your face visible. The TV hums with the drunk gibberish of the reality tv show cast as they laugh and cry over something innocuous.

A soft knock on the door breaks your focus, Amina appearing in the opening.

“Are you still coming to breakfast?” She asks.

“Don’t feel good.”

“Y/N,” Amina sighs, sitting on the edge of your bed. “It’s not that bad.”

You almost swallow your tongue. Of all your friends, Amina dislikes Wonwoo the most. She’s polite as she can be for Lisa and Mingyu’s sake, but everyone knows they get on as well as fire and water. 

“Who are you?” you question, eyes widening at the impersonator perched at your feet.

Amina cackles in response, and you can’t help but join. 

“You had fun, right?” Amina asks, waiting for your nod before continuing.“Okay, then who cares?”

“You don’t?” 

“No,” Amina sighs. “You’ve been…” 

She pauses, weighing her next words. “...down, since Seungcheol left. Maybe this is what you needed to get back out there.”

You start to object but fail to find any evidence against her claim. Seungcheol leaving turned your world upside down. You couldn’t hate him. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to make things work. But there was nothing for you in Seattle, just like there was nothing for him in New York. Other than each other. Somehow it’s much harder when no one is to blame other than unchangeable circumstances.

Amina rubs your knee over the covers. “It’s not my business who you sleep with. Unless you bring him here and I hear you, then I reserve the right to kill you both.” 

“Trust me, it won’t be happening again.”

“Why?” Now it’s Amina’s turn to be shocked. “Was it that bad?”

“No!” You blurt, face heating at the sudden outburst. “It was just a one time thing. Get it out of the system.”

Amina hums. Silence falling between you.

“So… was he better than Seungcheol?” Amina asks like she doesn’t care either way but you know she’s curious. She heard enough times about the lack of chemistry between you and Seungcheol for to have a vested interest in your sex life.

Truthfully, he was. The best experience with Seungcheol paled in comparison next to your night with Wonwoo. 

Taking silence as an answer, Amina stands.

“Get dressed. Eva is already on the way here to pick us up.” 

She leaves with out another word.

Across town, Wonwoo contemplates the ramifications of murder. 

The morning after a night like his should have him walking around like the sun shined out of his ass. Instead, the most annoying person in the city chose to rain on his parade. That person is coincidentally his best friend's girlfriend.

If it hadn’t been for Lisa’s shouts this morning, he’s more than confident you would have agreed to a repeat of the nights events. Maybe even two or three if he was lucky.

But no, you sprinted from his bed the second he feigned sleep. Watching through barely cracked eyes, he almost broke his cover when you nearly fell head first into the door knob, hastily trying to pull your pants up and walk at the same time. 

Wonwoo let you go, no snide comments or crude remarks. He knew if he wanted you to return to his bed then the best way was to bite his tongue. Goading had worked the first time, now he’d have to let your curiosity get the better of you. You would come back sooner or later, and he'd be ready when it happened.

He’d given you a few minutes to find your way out, hoping you avoided Lisa and saved you both the embarrassment. The slam of the front door and lack of screaming informed him of your success. Wanting to make sure you were long gone before he exited his room, Wonwoo took his time brushing his teeth. Catching himself in the mirror, his reflection gave a self-satisfied smirk. The stain of your teeth and lips contrasted against his skin and his back stung along the raised red welts from your nails.

Flicking off the light, Wonwoo heads towards back to his room. Lisa will demand audience sooner or later and it's better if he rips the bandaid off now. In his peripheral, a swatch of pale pink fabric tucked underneath one of the legs of his dresser catches his attention. Ducking down, he puls at the stretch of cotton. Lifting them up to inspect the out of place garment, Wonwoo finds himself face to face with your panties. He huffs a laugh before crumbling them in his hand, and tossing them in the hamper on the way out of his room. 

Lisa waits for him at the dining table; commanding the head seat like a mob boss.

From her perch, she watches him with keen interest that makes his bowl of cereal taste like mush. Mingyu already excused himself to take a shower before Wonwoo sat down, attempting to avoid the ensuing blow out. 

Every question is answered with one word answers or dismissive grunts. Even Lisa’s attempts to bait him into unrelated arguments roll off. Lisa chisels away at any sign of weakness but Wonwoo refuses to give her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. It’s none of her business. Even if you’re her best friend.

Wonwoo counts his blessings when a call comes through her phone, the vibration on the table interrupting her attempt to burn a hole through his skull. Lisa rises to answer, pacing the kitchen while the feminine voice coming out the receiver chatters on. She ducks her head into Mingyu’s room, bidding him farewell. As she passes Wonwoo again on her way out, she gives him another furious look to let him know she isn’t done with their “conversation”. 

To rub salt in the wound, Wonwoo sends her off with an overly friendly smile and a wiggle of his fingers. He wipes down his face when the door slam shuts, shoulders dropping.  He knew hooking up with you might cause problems. He didn’t know they would become evident so quickly, but problems nonetheless. 

Worth it, he thinks 

The look on her face when she came for him made anything Lisa planned to throw his worth the price.

Wonwoo didn’t care what any of them had to say, you both were grown adults. He wanted to sleep with and you wanted to sleep with him. End of conversation. Anyone else’s opinion meant nothing.

And if things go the way he thinks they will, he’ll get to see you in his bed again.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho

�� highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[bella-goths-wife]

How do the Vees react to their pet playing favorites? Like, one moment they like Vox the most but next Velvette is the favorite?

How would the Vs react to pet playing favourites?

Warnings: abuse, Valentino, SA mentions, punishments but not specified

Vox:

I feel like Vox would be your favourite just by default

Favourite is used very loosely here, it’s more like he’s probably the one you could stand to be around for longer periods of time

And Vox already thinks he’s your favourite because he’s your main provider and soul owner, so he just assumes

But if you were to be outwardly showing favouritism to him then I think you’d gain a few more privileges then normal

Like if you started asking to schedule to work with him more, started being more receptive to his affection and you started asking to do stuff with him then he’d definitely be more open to letting you break rules

So he’d buy you more gifts or if he was especially pleased he’d take you with him to club openings or restaurants, just generally get you out the tower more and doing more things that a normal person would

He’d even let you drink or do certain substances, but he has to be around you to supervise

You’d just generally be allowed to get away with more, if you kept it going for at least a year you’d be able to score the ability to leave the tower by yourself

You’d have his drone following you around but you don’t need to know that

But if he saw you showing favouritism towards the other Vs then he’d be outraged

You made a deal with him, not them!

He’d give your leash an extra tug to show you who you belong to as a warning but if you still show favouritism to the others then he’s upping your workload and stealing you away from the other two on their days

Hes probably the best one to have as a favourite since he can gain you the most privileges and you could probably play into the daughter thing to manipulate him

Start calling him dad and your getting loads of perks, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you

Velvette:

If you started having velvette as your favourite, it would be a massive ego boost for her

She’s always been jealous that Vox was the one to find you first and made a deal with you

It just wasn’t fair, she wanted to own you and have Vox pushed into her position of having to ask permission all the time

But if you started requesting to work more stuff with her or you just request to be in her presence more then she’ll feel like she’s high on an ego boost

Bonus points if you do it in front of Vox

If you started acting like velvette was your favourite then she’d be much less cruel to you and insult you less

She’d ask (demand) for you to hang out with her but it would give off vibes of an older sister asking a younger sister to hangout in a super awkward way

She’d take you to fashion shows and she’d invest more time into making you clothes that flatter you and would even dress you in a style that makes you comfortable

She’d also take you to parties, but she can’t allow you to drink since she needs voxs permission

She’d definitely sneak you drinks behind his back though

She’d sit with you in the mornings and do your hair and makeup and would commit to it no matter how early she has to wake up

It’d be almost sweet if she wasn’t complaining all the time

She’d still be semi cruel to you and would still punish you but at least now you’d have softer moments to look forward to

She’d even call out Valentino for his inappropriate behaviour, not that much but enough to make sure he’s not doing it when she’s in the room

But if she saw you favouring the other two instead of her she would not be happy

She’d be less upset then Vox because you mean less to her then you mean to Vox, but she’d still be angry

She’d mock you more and insult you all the time while your working for her, and she’ll give you an impossible workload

She’ll also make you abuse your power to the point that your tired and overworked and exhausted

She’d also be way quicker to punish you for the tiniest things

So it’s best not to show outward favouritism to any one in front of her

Valentino:

You’d probably never ever ever ever choose to have Valentino as your favourite

He’s just so… him

But let’s say in some kind of delusional state you choose to show favouritism towards Valentino

He wouldn’t offer you very many perks if I’m being honest, he’d give you some gifts but they wouldn’t be stuff that you really enjoy because he doesn’t know you enough to know what you enjoy

He’d be more respectful of your boundaries if you showed outward favouritism to him since it would humanise you more in his eyes

But as I’ve established in previous fics, humanising you only makes Valentino aware of his actions and he hates that

So he may actually push you away if you start to bond with him

You’d see a more vulnerable side to him but that’s not always a good thing

You’d see him sob after his drug induced panics or his come down but you’d also see him angry and screaming in your face because something small inconvenienced him

All it would do is make you feel more scared of him for different reasons

You used to be scared of him because of how uncomfortable he made you, now your scared your gonna be pulled into a room with him any moment and he forced to comfort him from his sobbing or his angry rants

It would make you closer to angel dust though, since Valentino would “want his two favourite people to spend time with him”

You’d be able to have a public friendship with angel dust which would be nice if it didn’t put him at threat of Vox or velvette

You two would wait until Valentino passes out from drinking and then you’d both gossip and chat until he woke up

If you showed favouritism towards the other two then Valentino wouldn’t really care

Sure he’s obsessed with you but it’s in the same way he’d be obsessed with one of his favourite guns or toys, so he can share you with friends and not others

He just wouldn’t care because he doesn’t care for you very much

He also knows that there is nothing he can do since the other two would challenge him on his behaviour if he started acting worse to you

He’d be a bit peeved if it took your attention from him for too long so he would punish you but it’d be a minor one at best and all you’d have to do is spend a day stroking his ego

We all know that deep down angel dust is your favourite in every scenario :)

Tag list:

@the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @buttercupfangirl @sparkleyfishies @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @repostingmyfavs @idontreallyexistyet @perkypeony @aroomofmyown24 @hazbinhotelxreader @ivebeenthearchersstuff

[pinkslaystation]

His name is Ghost.

Toxic!Ghost and ...not you

You're friend wants you to meet a special someone, and he happens to be closer to you than you think. Literally. Word Count: 4.3k

"Yeah he's great, you should come meet him! Although I dunno, he said he wanted to keep 'us' a secret..."

You look up from your laptop at your best friend Michaela, who has blabbering about her new fling for an hour now. You hum in acknowledgment, but come on ... you're not really listening.

"And he has a sick motorcycle, but he's never let me on it..." She drones on.

"Uh huh."

"And he said I would look prettier with longer hair! Which I think means he finds me already a little pretty...?"

"Wow, I agree..."

"And- YO ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?"

You shut your laptop and focus wholly on her. "Mickey I love you, but this is the eighth guy you've loved this year. Whose to say this is gonna work out?"

Mickey sulks into your bed as you lecture her, finally being able to pour out your emotions.

"The last guy, who you planned a wedding for, you ended up dumping 'cos he reminded you of wet ketchup." You complain, moving your hands around over-dramatically. "And the dick before that, couldn't even pronounce your name correctly-"

"To be fair, Mickey is quite a hard name-" She butts in.

"It's a fucking Disney character, for Christs sake, who the fucks Missy? Listen, Mick, I'm happy for you, but you keep on dating douches, and then a month later, you come back crying to me about it. This isn't good for you or for me, you know how busy I am on this thesis."

Mickey's face contorts to a look of displeasure and betrayal, her eyes squinting as if she's trying to restraint the tears that look like they're about to burst in a moment.

She looks away before recollecting her thoughts, "I- I just thought you'd be happy for me-"

"I am Mickey! I really am! But it's like you search up 'world's most toxic asshat' and decide to bone the dude. They never treat you well Mick...come on, even a blind guy can see that..."

Your friend looks down, playing with the hem of her jumper, as if she's carefully considering your words, but you know her enough to know that she doesn't care for her advice. 4 weeks from now, and shes going to be sitting on your bed bawling her eyes out over another prick.

"You really are the worst, you know that?" She mumbles almost inaudibly, before getting up and heading towards the door of your dingy flat. You call out her name, telling her to come back, but give it a month, she'll come back trying over a different person.

It's a dark stormy Friday night, not even a week since your last contact with her, and there's already a brash pattern of knocks bombarding at your door. You look up from your laptop, almost a quarter into your thesis.

I swear if it's my fucking landlord again... You think as you grab a bat to protect yourself with, Mickey always complains about how dangerous your neighbourhood is.

You sigh out of relief when you peer through the peephole, it's Michaela...but she looks hysterical.

"Mickey...hey listen, I didn't mean what I said..." You start when you open the door to her furrowed eyebrows and hiccuped sobs.

"H- He- He keeps ghosting me-" She tries.

"Mickey, what's going on, who-"

She digs her face into the nook of your right shoulder, and your sharp nose detected the slight smell of booze, "Saw him at the grocery store, b-but he ignored me."

"Michaela honey, sit down. Okay what's going on." You bring her to your bed.

And so she tells you all about it. About the new guy that she's been seeing for 2 weeks now, how she met him at a new bar opening in your area, about how he sweet talked her into buying her a few drinks, and how he drove her home like a real gentleman. Your face scrunches when she accidentally spills about the part how rough he pounded her in her bedroom, with both her wrists tightly gripped and bound by one of his large callous hands, as he bent her over her desk.

The skillful way in which he dug his hips into her ass, 'thrusting into her like God told him to' as she put it. You mumble a little blasphemous when you hear that part.

A few more, 'Oh the dick was so good, I can't, I'm obsessed' and 'He fucked me like my future husband would', and she finally stops, her train of tears coming to a halt and she blankly stares at your ceiling, laying on your bed.

You nod dimly, not knowing whether to use the pep talk that you'd used for the last guy.

"What's this guy's name again?" You question her.

She shrugs, without energy, and the idea of injecting with a tranquiliser faintly disappears from your mind.

You look at her with amusement. "What do you mean-" you shrug, mocking her actions, "Does he have an ugly name like the other guy...what was...oh, Lester?"

Mickey snorts, looking up at you, "Lester didn't know how to eat me out, like he did."

"You don't need to bring up every sexual detail, Mick..."

"Sorry virgin..." She huffs.

You cringe at her, "Okay, so what's his name, it can't be as bad as Lester." She doesn't respond, her eyes tearing up again, "Um, okay, Imma say some names, tell me if I get it. James, John, Joseph, Jeremy, Jeremia-"

"Why are they all J names?" She mutters.

"Uh hello, you barged into my flat at 11 P.M. and you're drunk, considering how toxic this guy is, it's gotta be a J name. Jerome, Jude, Javon, Julius, Jason-"

"G." She stops you.

"G? Jason with a G...what the...Gason? Yeah, girl, if his name was that ugly, I'd be crying just as hard at you-"

"NO UH." She shouts so loudly, dragging her words, that even the gust of wind stops in fright. "His name starts with G...I think it does at least. He wouldn't tell me his real name...just a nickname."

You nod, as if in agreement, but you stop yourself because you've never been in a similar situation. As much as you love Michaela, you despise almost everything she does.

Like how in 2nd year of university, she missed an exam just so she could go on a date with a guy she was seeing. And she wonders why she had to retake that module over the summer.

There was also the time at your 20th birthday dinner, where she uninvitingly decided to bring her fling for the month, and no, you couldn't the food given the amount of time they decided to share saliva right in front of you.

"Wow Mick, your standards be dropping like this economy." You kid, although some part of you really questions how much truth lied behind that, "So, hit me. Who's this guy you've been seeing. Tell me about him."

"You for real?" She smiles sweetly at you, and for a second, every bone of hate towards her actions wash away. At the end of the day, she still is your best friend, and you should support her decision no matter what. That's what friends do, no?

"Yeah. I'm sorry. What's his name...or nickname? What do you call him?" You hold her hands, rubbing above her thumbs.

She sniffs a bit, but her smile doesn't falter, and her cheek blushes at the mere thought of him.

"His name is Ghost."

It's official. This was the worst guy Mickey has dated.

You've made a list of all people she's been with, ranking them with how well they'd treated her.

Okay so, Derek was a pass, he cheated on her with the Philosophy professor...literally worst degree ever. What kinda dumb career can you even go into with that.

Then there's Jonah, reaaaal bad boy, but he screamed like a girl and was way too deep into feminism. Pass, how do you manage to mansplain feminism??

Marc, aspiring footballer. You know what, smash, he was fine, I'll give her that. But then he left to play for Spain and never texted back... But he had dimples, so I'd forgive him.

Oh how did I forget Oliver. Auditioned to be a k-pop idol but lied about being Korean the entire time...pass for sure.

GAAH! There all so trash!

And yet there's another member on this list. Nameless, faceless 'Ghost'.

"What does he look like?" You begin your interrogation.

"Dunno." Mickey shrugs.

"How old is he?"

"Dunno."

"...Career?"

"Dunno."

"Dunno as in you don't know, or dunno as in this freak's unemployed?" You rub your temples in frustration.

Mickey sighs seeing how annoyed you are, she begged and dragged you out of your flat into the bright lights and atmosphere of a cafe.

"I think he's loaded, he-"

You sigh, "You said that about the last guy, and that was just because you couldn't see the minus sign on his online banking app."

"Can you not get annoyed at me for a second? This is my potential husband for all I know." She says exasperatingly.

"Ah yes! Your husband is a nameless, faceless, jobless knobhead who you've had sex with once, talked to...ONCE. Remind me why you're so hooked on this guy? Here's a challenge, don't mention his dick."

An elderly lady sitting on the table besides you two, grumbles and leaves after hearing that.

"...Can I have a sip of your frappe?"

"Oh would you look at that! Princess Mickey DOES know how to ask a question! You couldn't just, I don't know....ASK for his name? Don't act like this was the hardest thing you've done, remember when you considered proposing TO A MAN-"

"The only hard thing about Ghost...was his penis."

The cafe goes silent when she blurts that out.

You sigh for what felt like the 100th time that hour, and you lean in to whisper to Mickey, "Mick, it's been just over a week since you've last seen him- whose to say you'll see him again?"

She rests her head in her hands, clenching her eyes shut at the thought. "I thought I'd run into him again, I don't know...Am I stupid for wanting him so bad?"

Yes, yes you are. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.

"nOoOoO, oF cOuRsE nOt, gah, why'd you say tha- yes. Yes, you are." So much for trying, "You don't even remember what he looks like, are you sure we're not stuck looking for a character out of one of your sex dreams?"

Mickey leans in so close to you, that you can smell the coffee breath.

"I know I was drunk, but I swear, I woke up and there was hickeys all over my neck-"

"But you said he was wearing a mask-" You're interrupting her and you can tell it irritates her, with her eyebrow twitching.

"Yes, but I don't remember-"

"What colour was the mask?"

"Uh, black."

"Was it a surgical mask or a balaclava?"

"Um, a baklava."

"Bitch, that's a pastry dish."

"I CAN'T! I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!" Mickey screams, standing up so abruptly, everyone in the cafe stops and turns.

You gasp, purposely loud so everyone can hear, "Are you breaking up with me...because I'm homeless?" All of the cafe goers murmur to each other at the scene in front of them.

"We were at your flat an hour ago, you fool- come on we're going." Mickey hisses, dragging you out the cafe, uncomfortably smiling at all the people that looked at you with sympathy, "No, don't feel bad, apparently a thesis is more to important than my future husband."

The walk home was pleasant, with Mickey hooking her arms around of yours, onlookers may have assumed that you two were a couple. But overall, it was nice being in her presence without the mention of any men.

"Hey look, the room next to yours is vacant. Maybe I should move in!" Mickey points out, when both of you have made it down the stairs of your building.

"I don't want you that often, jeez." You joke.

And for a while, your days do seem to be getting better.

It's been a month since your little cafe date, and you're still stuck at home grovelling through your tedious thesis.

The good news is, you're about 3 quarters in, the bad news is, your new neighbour has no apparent spatial awareness, having blasted his rock music through the floor. Unlucky for you, there's only 3 apartments on the floor of your building: you, Mr Feldman (who you're sure is deaf considering he hasn't made any complaint from the noise) and you're new neighbour, whom you've never met but already hate.

"TURN DOWN YOUR MUSIC DUMBASS." You bang on the door of your neighbour.

Yet no one opens the door and apologises.

In the evening, the noises get worse. Instead of rock, it's a combination of Weeknd songs and the loud female moans and bed shaking next door. Once you'd heard voices that had belonged to 2 women, so you deduced that you lived next to a sex-crazed lesbian.

"Mr Feldman, how are you okay with it?!" You complain. You've had enough of the noise, especially the headboard banging since it seems your neighbours bedroom is just a wall away from yours.

"Okay with what, sweetheart?" The elderly gentleman croaks out, standing at his doorstep.

"The noise! You don't hear the loud ass music?" You groan, having being repeating yourself for a 2nd time.

"Yes, the music is ass, but it isn't loud." Mr Feldman says, his finger tapping at his chin, comically pondering with his jurassic-age brain.

You roll your eyes, walking away and towards your own room, "How- I feel forgetting how old you truly are...."

"I heard that."

"I really doubt you did." You shut the door on him.

This is a real issue, not like the ones Mickey has with men, you can't focus on your thesis, this could seriously jeopardise your education.

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: have u talked to ur landlord

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: duh i unleashed my inner karen, but he isnt doing anything cos this dick offered to pay almost double the rent for his flat

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: damn he loaded

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: yet he cant afford earphones apparently

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: why dont u get him some

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: wat

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: as a joke

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: hm thats funny mickey

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: thanks who am i talking to again

So you did just that, you placed a pair of pink wired earphones in his mailbox... which happened to be right next to yours. And you waited.

And waited.

And a week later, and no response.

Your neighbour definitely doesn't know that he has a mailbox does he? A week since you're little prank, and yet you can still hear the music through the walls so loud, you think you've developed tinnitus. The throbbing in your ears is so painful, sometimes you feel phantom drips of blood running down your ear.

"Asshole doesn't even turn down the music. Come on, play some Beyonce at least."

Mickey snickers, she's on your bed texting other people.

"You're not even listening, are you?" You throw a pillow at her playfully to get her attention.

"Babe, it's 1 in the afternoon and I can't hear any music now, let's not start the day like this. Say, there's a lil get together in that bar down the road, you there?" She says, but you're not even sure she's talking to you as she hadn't looked up to you since saying that.

You crack your neck from exhaustion, "Nah I'll pass, need to finish a draft of my thesis and sen-"

"Blah blah blah, all I hear are excuses, thesis this thesis that." She rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, well you would have failed high school and university if not for me. So you paying with cash or card?" You boast.

Mickey gets up, dusting herself, "Listen I gotta dash, but I better see you there- it starts at 11."

"Woah, wait, which bar, who's going, what's the dress code- Okay you're gone."

And for a first time in a while, you're stuck in your room alone, without the loud obnoxious music and without anyone constantly whining at you. Peace and silence-

Hold on, what's that?

You press your ear against your bedroom wall, which is funny considering you usually complain about the noise. It's not music, it's more sultry and sexual. Deep and gruff moans escaping someone, and this time it's actually enjoyable to listen to. Nothing like those pornstar like squeals you were used to, no. This was more raw.

The way his voice broke at certain points combined with the lazy irregular slick noises, which you imagined to be his dick slipping through his tight, cocooned fist.

"Fuck, mhm."

That voice.

If this was the voice of your neighbour, you would have never complained about the commotion. Was this why Mr Feldman has no issue with the noise? Was he blessed with the intimidating whimpers next door?

You press further, ignoring the growing wetness pooling at your underwear. You could tell he started thrusting faster, his voice increasing in volume just a little bit.

You could tell he's close.

But some part of you wanted to deny him of this pleasure.

So instead of touching yourself with your neighbour, you're standing right in front of his door, banging against the door frame with all the might you can muster, you fear you might break it down.

The door opens.

And you're face to face with your neighbour.

And a minute the warmth between your legs actually makes sense. Because you're neighbour isn't a sex crazed lesbian...you're neighbour is a-

"Sex God,"

"Excuse me?" His voice is deeper when he's talking.

"... I said, oh God. Can you keep the music down?" You reroute your words, drinking in the appearance of this beast in front of you.

He's tall, maybe a few inches taller than 6 foot, with short dusty blonde hair, and a prominent scar running through his thin but well moisturised lips. And his jawline, wow, the Gods above must have spent eons perfecting his jaw structure-

"'m sorry. But uh, hey thanks for the earphones." He pulls out one of the hot pink earbud from his ear.

You blush, he had seen his gift, "Uh huh, how'd you know it's from me?"

"Y' think old man Feldman's gonna buy a bloke hello kitty earphones?" He kids.

"Maybe, it's 2024. Live and let live. Don't be shocked if you see Feldman walking around in a skirt." And you're surprised he laughs your joke, admiring the crease lines by his mouth when he smiles, almost forgetting that you had an imagine in your head that he was the worst possible neighbour alive...

"Cute." He comments, looking down at you.

"Me...? Or are you visualising Feldman....." You drag your words, until he laughs again, leaning onto his door frame and just then you understand why Mickey would chase guys the way she does.

"No, please, he's not my type. I lean towards um...cute, short neighbours."

"You're literally just describing Feldman, dude,"

"That's on me," he smiles widely at you, "If I had known it was you banging on my door, I'd 'ave opened it a while back." He flirts.

You blink at him, no ones ever flirted with you. What would Mickey do? No, she'd just snog him this very moment. I mean, what's stopping you?

"If I'd known you were my neighbour, I'd be banging you a while back. Wait."

There's a pause in the conversation and you're too scared to correct yourself. "I-"

But he cuts you off, letting out the loudest laughs at that you'd ever heard, almost as if he was cursed not to laugh and it had finally been broken. The type where he hand gently grabs your shoulder and you could almost feel the vibrations from his broad chest.

What a sight.

"You know what I meant." You giggle, wait, when did you start giggling?

His laugh ends in a fit of small coughs, "Didn't catch your name, dove."

You introduce yourself, opting not to sticking your hand out like you're in a job interview.

But he does it for you, placing one large callous hand in front of you, for you to shake.

"Simon." He says as he kisses the back of your hand.

You thought when you met Simon, that you two had bonded, like he was about to ask you out bonded, but alas you were wrong.

You laid in bed the rest of the day, intending to complete a draft for your thesis, yet instead you found yourself on Sims creating a family for you and your beloved Simon. And a short nap later, you wait up to over 20 notifications from your friend.

4 missed calls from ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: yoooo wru??? its 11:30

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: HOEEEE WAKE UP

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: fuck ur thesis come hereee im drunk

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: BABE THE GHOST GUY IS HERE NO JOKE

5 missed calls from ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: you better be dead

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: oml he saw me

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: black baklava btw

2 missed calls from ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: hehehehe im going back to his place

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: if i die yk where im at yh

Oh shit. It's past midnight, you try calling Mickey but her phone goes straight to voicemail, curse her and her DND.

You start looking for your keys, there's no way you're attending the party, you're just going to pick her up from whomever's place she's at and take her home.

"Mhm, doll, jus' like that."

You pause in your step. Mickey's safe right? A quick listen wont hurt anyone.

"'lil deeper pretty girl, yeah, like that."

Some part of you wishes it was porn Simon was watching, and that God was playing a cruel joke on you, introducing you to the prettiest guy you've seen, and now suddenly you're stuck hearing him fuck someone else? Yeah, you've heard it before but...this time it made you feel uneasy.

This time you knew who was behind the voice, you knew who was moaning. And forgive me, but you thought you had a connection, no? That talk earlier today...did it mean nothing?

And when did he suddenly become so vocal? What was so special about this girl than the others?

You stand still, with your ear pressed so tightly against the wall, you've probably left a mark against it. And his moans never stop.

And hers start. For a second you feel like you recognise the female voice, but through the slurs and hand-covered whimpers (you presume), you can't figure out if it was familiar to you or not.

You flinch when the head boards banging, and you feel yourself throwing every romantic thought you've had of this man when you hear his degrading tone towards her.

"C’mon, make yourself cum on my cock, dove."

You gulp hearing him use the nickname he gave you on someone else.

30 minutes of torture.

You stood against that wall, with your ear so firmly pressed, someone might have thought it was glued on. The only sounds you were focused on was his whimpers and you caught the way his voice broke when he spoke, and your infrequent breathes.

When the noises stopped, you stepped back in embarrassment. You felt so shameful practically peering into a man's sex life. How disgusting are you truly?

You reach into your pockets, feeling for your keys and your phone, suddenly remembering Mickey's whereabouts.

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: just woke up

You lied. You couldn't ever tell someone of today.

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: omw wru

You open your door, feeling the abrupt urge to surround yourself within nature after doing something so distasteful. And if it couldn't get any worse...

Simon's door opens.

One part of you wants to turn and see which lucky girl had the opportunity to getting plowed by him, and yet the other part knew you'd immediately crumble at the thought of it not being you.

"Oh my god! That's why this place looks so familiar....!"

You widen your eyes, your breathe getting caught once again.

"Mickey...?" You whisper, not even turning your head to look at the horror next door.

"Yes, it's me silly. Come here, want you to meet someon- oh can't walk, fuck." She giggles, barely conscious.

You turn your head towards her slowly, like a movie character.

It's Mickey in the flesh, wearing jeans and a black tube top that had been worn so sloppily, you were almost scared you were going to get flashed. She smiles innocently at you were half lidded eyes.

"Oh...I-"

A figure walks out, dressed in a blue-gray 3/4 sweater and a hood, and you swear you feel yourself sinking into the ground. Could this get any worse.

And your wishes were answered. Mickey turns back to press a vulgar, almost cringe-worthy kiss against his clothed jaw, and you shift your eyes down... to see his dark jeans... and the zip undone. You turn your head around, almost debating to ignore the couple and lock yourself into your bedroom until death overcomes you. Your darting eyes rest on his face, begging for him to say something to remove the awkwardness.

Yet, something about Simon was different...

His eyes bore deeply into your soul as if trying to read you, his once kind face contorted into a look of pure disgust, like he were looking into the eyes of a killer. This didn't look like the man you talked to this morning...

His eyes drag down over your crooked frame, a raised eyebrow twitching almost in mock sympathy. To make it worse, he had his arms crossed so tightly around him, he looked like the human epitome of a 'side eye'.

You pray to God it's the effects of alcohol. Or maybe you're the drunk one! Maybe you're sleeping and this is all just a dream, or nightmare...

You put your hands on the doorknob, wanting to resign yourself from this situation when your eyes drift back to Mickey, who seems to have taken the liberty of speaking.

"I want you meet the guy I was talking to you about. His name is Ghost."

First of all, thank you all for 6200 likes and 300 followers?!!!! THE BEST <3 Also, my writing schedule is so poor, I'll try to update as much as possible!! tags -> @lilliumrorum , @kxtz3 , @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk , @spankmydepression , @yourfavbabigirl

[kiwanopie]

Strawberry Jam

Your best friend has a sweet tooth.

cw: college!bokuto, oral(f!receving), dubcon, manhandling if you squint. 1.3k

“Ah shit!” Bokuto frowns. “I dropped my pencil.”

You absently hum at the sound of his voice from the ledge of your laptop. “Hm-?”

The sound of a skidding chair barely disrupts your line of focus from where it’s locked on your midterm - but the sound of his head knocking a bit against the underside of the table does pull a little chuckle from you. You glance at your keyboard through a few dull taps on your mousepad, but at the very least you’re considerate enough to mumble a quiet ‘You okay?’

Bokuto makes a huffy little whining sound that you opt to ignore in favor of letting your best friend crawl about the carpet like a mouse. Patting his palms against the plush nylon of your bedroom floor as he searches for his pencil, and you’re really no help when you make less than an effort to move your legs as he knocks against them.

The blue light turns the darkening room behind you a washed navy, whatever he just knocked his back against just unplugged the desk light. “You can just borrow one of mine y’know.”

“But this one’s special! It has my name engraved on it and everything!”

“Why would you-“ You spam the backspace bar for a loud couple clicks. “Why would you buy something like that if you know it’s gonna get shaved away anyway?”

“Because it’s cool… And I’ll know if someone steals it!”

Bokuto roots for the little punctures on the outlet through a few messy jabs of his fingers. “Your room eats up all my stuff.”

The fact that you can physically hear him pouting is enough to make you wanna audibly scoff. Especially when his little nest across the hall has already swallowed up a pair of your headphones, a few mismatched socks, and a volume of that manga you’ve been collecting since last spring. And anyways, it’s totally his fault. He’s the one who keeps treating your room like a second bedroom. You can’t even sift through your hamper without finding some of your clothes mixed up with his.

But instead of making that point, you pull a little piece of skin off your bottom lip that tastes metallic when you tuck it under your tongue, switching tabs to double check your sources and mumble a little sarcastically under your breath. “Sorry ‘bout my room eating your stuff.”

The way the room bursts into a warm haze barely phases you anymore than the hollow tap of thin wood clinking just before your feet. If Bokuto’s gasp should mean anything, a number two pencil gets to live to see another day.

“Find it?”

“I found it!”

Bokuto snorts at your halfhearted ‘Hoorah.” as he turns on his knees to crawl out from under the table. Blithely grunting his way through the cramped little space, but stopping on the heel of his palm when he notices something.

“Oh, hey!”

“Hmm?”

He ducks his head for a better view of your skirt. “What’s up with these undies?”

“Hm? Oh.” You lift your back a little, even still your eyes are locked on the screen. “You got a problem with Strawberry Shortcake?”

“No, I like them! They’re cute.”

You blow a tickled breath out through your nose. You should kick him for being a perv and peeking up your skirt. But really you’re just thankful he didn’t tease you for being childish after you just ragged on his special pencil.

Your elbow digs into the desk with a squeak as you rest your jaw in your palm, your voice is an absent drone. “Thanks, they’re strawberry flavored.”

The shift key clicks as you start a new paragraph.

And then your knees are colliding with the table. “Wha- They’re not actually strawberry flavored!”

The way you startledly flinch is hardly enough to deter Bokuto’s hot mouth from the front side of your panties, but the way he hums - runs a thorough lick through your clothed slit and pulls away, makes it hard for you not to outwardly shutter. “They’re not? No way, I totally taste it.”

“Bokut-“ You lay your hand against his scalp when he leans in to dig his nose in. “Don’t just start doing something like that out of nowhere!”

Wow, he’s really slobbering all over those poor things isn’t he? “Y’want me to stop?”

“N-…No, but-”

He digs his tongue in with a fervor.

It’s a few tempered licks before he’s finally reaching forward to tug your panties to the side, molten tongue massaging attentively over your clit as the way he’s all but mushing his head into your soaked cunt inclines you to scoot into your seat. - Although the distance is short lived. You’re helpless to stop him when he uses his weight to push the chair back enough to lift his head freely, and you're all but yanked onto your back as he secures your legs over his shoulders, lifting on his knees to eat you out from a better angle.

The position is a little awkward but the sensation is incredible. This guy is drinking you up like it’s all he knows how to do. The angle opens you up from top to bottom, his tongue doesn’t leave a spot untouched. You’d almost be embarrassed with all the noise you’re making, but his drunken moans are a contest to yours.

“Ko, you’re-“ Oh god, your poor chair. “You’re… making such a mess…!”

He makes a gluttonned sound of indignation. “S’your fault. ‘Pussy tastes so good…”

You whine. That’s your best friend talking to you like that. You don’t even know where this came from. One minute he’s a bumbling teddy bear, rooting around your carpet for his stupid novelty pencil, the next he’s-

“You’re g’nna cum in my mouth?” He noses your clit. “Gonna let me drink your cum? Yeah?”

You claw at the arms locked over your thighs. “Koutarou! K-Ko! Fuck… Oh my god…”

“You taste so fucking sweet. What kind of friend holds out on another when they know they’ve got the-“ The way he spits on your messy cunt makes your pretty eyes roll. “Most perfectest pussy in the whole wide world?”

That’s not a word. But you get the sentiment. Especially when he punctuates it by circling his middle finger around your tight little hole and eases it in with his tongue pressed against your clit. Deep guttural groan that reverberates throughout your entire body at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, gushing for him so eagerly that you start to drip down his arm. Your pretty pussy seems intent on making him fall in love with it. Love struck even when he slides another finger in. And it’s all he can do not go mad when you start to drunkenly hump into his face.

“Oh god, Ko! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

Bokuto moans as your legs lock behind his shoulders, you’re so fucking hot he could die. “Mhm! Mhm!”

He’s rocking into you so thoroughly with his fingers that the chair starts to creek. The way the veins in his arm deliciously pop is enough to send you over the edge. “Ohhhh fuck! Cumming! m’ cumming!”

Bokuto sloshes his tongue over your clit as you spasm around his fingers. Wet noises double in volume as he continues to fuck into you, even when your leg kicks up from the amount of overstimulation. He just barely gives when you start to push his head away.

“Sorry, sorry!” Bokuto raises his head. “You’re just too fucking good.”

He helps you shimmy your sodden panties down your legs as you tiredly upright yourself in your seat, kissing your knee for good measure. “Hey, we’re still friends right?”

You nod. Though your throbbing clit says otherwise. “Yeah, you’re still my buddy.”

“Yay!” And you could almost giggle at how happy-go-lucky he can still look with your cum all over his face.

He holds your soaked underwear in his hand and they squish a little in his palm. “Can I keep these?”

reblog for our specialized pencil sale! now starting at 5.99 30$

[hazelfoureyes]

Wrapped Around Your Finger (part 2)

He couldn’t stay away, and you didn’t mind the arrangement. But it was a little exhausting how much he pushed and pulled whenever he needed a little reminder of his own weaknesses.

I don’t even know man lol

「Warnings/Promises: 🗣️ EATING OUT THE DEER MAN, fucking him with a dildo, Gender Neutral Reader x Alastor smut, hate fucking??, humiliation I guess idk he loves it that little slut, kinda dubcon, mentions of blood, scratching, kinda degradation kink, cumming on his own face lmao, choking but his heart isn’t in it :(, kinda angsty?, Lighthouse are not beacons to home but warnings you’re near danger people always seem to forget that 」

Minors…………. Minors

hey

Dont interact like these characters it’s not cool or attractive in real life

“I hate you.” Cried into a pillow between pleasured sobs.

“I know.” You replied softy, barely reaching Alastor’s ears from under the thick cushion he was gripping against his face. Even if the sound had made it firmly, it would have to get past the overwhelming drone of his own blood rushing through his body and humming in his ears.

Angel had been so kind to suggest to you some toys when you asked for advice on buying the right things. Nothing too big, but something that would leave a burning stretch even after it was taken back. Something for a beginner whose eyes were bigger than their stomach, so to speak.  You hadn’t told him why you needed them, which was for the best. Humiliating Alastor was more satisfying in your bed than in front of others. 

Your hand slowed it’s push and pull, distracted as your eyes fell to the heaving, fluffy chest of your indignant and infrequent lover. “You’re vile. A curse.” He said it much clearer now as he dropped the pillow. 

What an odd creature he was. A deer and a man and a demon. Both impractically weak in spirit yet remarkably powerful in brute strength. Clever yet unwise. Handsome and unkempt. 

His hips rutting back onto the glass dildo brought your eyes to his. Shining and wet as they peeked over the pillow. 

A fierce look betrayed by a knit brows that told you he was almost worried you were done.

Every time you took his control from him he seemed to melt further into your hands than the last time. 

Inversely, the time between visits was shortening. You didn’t mind it, but the spontaneity of his need was getting a little tiresome. He’d push you and you’d push back, you’d strip him bear and spread him open, and then he’d disappear in a huff. 

Though…. As his eyes rolled back in his skull you felt a tremor run down your spine. It wasn’t embarrassing him with his own base wants that was so enjoyable. Putting him in his place was great but no, that wasn’t entirely the main attraction.

The duality of man had always been of interest to you. Watching him pester and tease others was made so much more tolerable knowing he’d soon be crying for you to unravel him. Knowing how he shook and whimpered for you when no one else was around to hear it. Another shiver, such a powerful demon twitching in your fist. 

Since the first time you entered him you hadn’t been bothered with him fucking you. Which is what it was; fucking. Seraphim could appreciate pleasure but, well, it wasn’t much to a being who’d witnessed the creation of time. A lovely perk of existence, to be clear. But the high you could gather and ride from watching that cocky and oversure overlord wither under you was unmatched. 

You didn’t need him to touch you. You needed him to need you. Charlie was quite capable all on her own of reforming sinners, so you’d found yourself quite…aimless in hell. But when Alastor glared at you from across the room, cheeks an equally beaming red as his eyes, you felt a little more real. An angry lighthouse whose rocky shores you were happily sailing directly onto. A hopeful shipwreck. Stranded on his little island of self loathing and pride.

Alastor hated how little you spoke to him. Everywhere, not just when he was on his back or his knees. When your attention was fully on him he felt his skin burning with that golden light of your soul. Finally, the fires of hell had found him. 

An inferno cleansing him of his regrets and memories. How much more could he accomplish when the baggage of his human life was turned to ash?

Making you whine under him had proven fruitless. The blood was sweet but the wounds he left down your body healed too quickly for him to ever get his fill. Even then, you barely flinched. Though he did find the way you clawed at his flesh to stifle your moans was exhilirating. Never in life had he harmed someone good by any measure. But you weren’t good. You were, at best, complacent to Heaven’s cruelty. No matter how perfect your movements as you glided around the halls of the hotel, or how sweetly your voice formed every syllable of every stupid little thing you said to others, you were pure but not good. 

The sweetness of your voice was very rarely there for him in private. Saccharine tones crackled like gravel under his heels. Something just for him, a side of you that no one else had seen. A side you always turned on him when he acted up. 

He had been quite content to just annoy before your arrival. Then he was cruel to others, but that made you angry in a way that threatened to make you shut him out. 

So now he just haranged you and made underhanded comments that irked you. And then, when he was sure you were alone, he’d corner you and say something particularly sharp into your ear, hands gripping at whatever part of him he could get to first. 

And you’d push him down, and he’d fight knowing fully well it was pointless against your particular skills, and he’d ripped the carpets and the sheets as he scrambled from your touch….but never too far. Always making sure your long fingers could still reach him. A game. One where he was, for once, the prey. The hunted on purpose, not at the decision of anyone else but himself. 

How terribly he just wanted you to break him apart, fill him with your light and form him back again around you. Remake him in your image. 

The few people in hell who offered him a challenge were people he genuinely couldn’t stand being bested by. But for some reason, when your eyes lit up and your aura shattered all of his minions and appendages, it was satisfying. Finally. 

And when your hands ran down his stomach and kept going, he found his body responding eagerly. His mind got so quiet. His worries about power were taken from him with gentle fingers. He couldn’t best you, so why not relax? No way he could win so he just lied back and let go. 

In the silence and darkness of the headspace you offered him he found pleasure. He was small in your grasp. Not physically, of course. He could transform to stories above you. No, he was small in other ways. 

He worried endlessly how long he could keep you willing to play with him. Anger was exhausting, and he only ever seemed to need your wrath and control to get off properly. 

A worry you saw on his face before you began to move the toy in and out again quickly. Three large bumps that made every single thrust feel like three. A toy Alastor hated the sight of but loved the sensation of. 

He’d grown hard in your hand, dripping and twitching into you. A painful looking red as blood was rushing to his cock. It was so pretty on him. A color that suited Alastor. You gave him a squeeze, toy sunk to the hilt. You then gave it a shake, knocking against his spot with one of those bumps. A pained cry tore through the room before he returned the pillow to his face. 

You smiled, he was concerned someone would hear him. Would anyone even recognize it was him, given how no one in hell had ever heard such a sound come from Alastor?

“You’ve been less venomous today, Alastor. Haven’t called me a whore or trash a single time.” The toy pulled out so cleanly, his taut hole slipping over the clear glass effortlessly. Well, not effortlessly. The loud moans with every pull made sure you knew he could still feel everything perfectly fine. 

“Fuck you.” 

You hummed, squeezing again before leaving his cock entirely to hold up his thigh. Pushing his left leg up for stability, to began a much harsher pace with your toy. Stare fixated on the pillow, you wondered if you could make it combust with just the intense desire to see his expression in that moment. 

“Slower!” The word got louder as his head craned backward and partially escaped from under the soft shield he was gripping so tightly. When you didn’t reply or slow down Alastor tried to turn onto his side.

Your hand on his leg gripped the meat of his inner thigh and pulled him back down onto his back. Another whine, “It’s too fast.”

“Hmm, you didn’t listen to me earlier why should I listen now?”

He tried to sneer but you forced the dildo in deep, hilt flush and pressing into his skin with force. A moan so sweet and high you felt like you were watching a choir of one. Alastor hadn’t listened earlier when you told him he’d hurt Husker. He called him a gambling addicted kitty cat in front of the others, embarrassing him in front of Angel Dust. You told him he should apologize for it. He laughed and asked why he’d say sorry to a possession. 

And your ever present smile, the soft and sweet side of his sharp and wicked one, stayed sure as you logged the comment away. 

Now the words were in your muscles as you barely withdrew the toy before thrusting it back in harshly.

“He’s pathetic, and I own him. I can say and do what I want.” He fell back into the bed with a tremble down his chest. 

Your little chuckle brought his eyes to yours. The golden light they always shone on to him in the dim light of your room reminded him of summer days at noon. Everything went dark around you as he stared back, damaging his vision as he was blinded by your power. 

“Being unkind is not necessary, Alastor. I was just thinking the same about you, though.” You slid your hand down the back of his thigh to his ass and held him there. 

“You don’t own me.” 

Could you though? Was that an option?

“No?” Your smile glistened as he felt your hand go furhter down the curve of his cheeks, now onto his lower back, “Is this not mine?” Leaving the toy buried in him, your pointer finger dragged down his leaking cock head and shaft. “You hump into my hand so often I assumed you were giving it to me.”

With both hands under him and on his back, you lifted his hips off the bed and folded him in half. His lower body held up with your chest as you knelt against him, his hips nearly over his face as his body made a C shape. Your left hand pulled the dildo out entirely by the heart shaped handle, causing Alastor’s hands to fly to the pillow, teeth ripping into it.

“The lord’s voice makes the deer calve,” Your head lowered, tongue dragging over his used and puffy hole. A strident groan, bits of feather peaking out of the torn fabric of the pillowcase. He was bent deeper in half as you reached over and grabbed the pillow from his grasp. Tearing completely, it rained white feathers down onto the crumpled man. They stuck to the sweat slicked skin of his neck and forehead, but you couldn’t appreciate him for long as you lost sight of him from the angle. Your mouth returned to his twitching entrance, prodding roughly. 

His hands scrambled for something to grab ahold of, finding the blanket and digging claws deep enough to cut into the mattress itself. 

“And strips the forests bare.” Your left hand hand began to pump quickly and evenly on his member, already weeping and dropping precum onto his chest. 

The realization of what this position would do hit Alastor so quickly that he pulled a muscle in his back when he tried to sit up. Your free hand found one of his and settled over it, shushing him. His vision was just his own cock over him and your light filled expression from between his thighs. 

“In his temple everything says, ‘Glory.’” 

Returning your focus and tongue to him, you pressed in repeatedly. No resistance, your muscle much smaller than the widest point of the glass toy you’d been using. 

“Don’t-”, his hand was trembling under yours, words ground out as he clenched his teeth. 

Your tongue flattened and lapped salaciously between his cheeks, the unpleasant taste of lube disappearing as you licked him clean. Following up, you sucked one then both of his rising balls into your mouth. 

“Ffuuu-”, a silent scream as his body tensed. You felt the strong twitches rock your hand before he came. Just as he feared and you had intended, his thick seed fell onto his chest and chin. 

Lazily you licked up and to his swollen slit, sucking it clean as you lowered his body. As soon as he was down, both physically and physiologically, he pounced forward and knocked you back onto the bed. 

One hand on your neck, one wiping the cum off his face with the back of his hand, “You know I hate touching-,”

You smiled, “I do.”

His other hand came to your throat, but no pressure. He looked down at you, and you up at him. Grin manic, his shadow appendages whipped from his back and pinned your limbs down. But as they tightened and twisted around you, his hands stayed docile. 

“Should I not do that again?” Your face roamed his, his flash of anger only skin deep. A show, an act to keep up appearances for…well, no one. 

That smirk wilted on his face. 

You tested the strength of his tentacles on your arm but found he was genuinely restraining you, “If you don’t want me to do that again, just say so. I won’t.”

Alastor searched his mind for something, anything. But once again, like every time you spoke to him with an even and clear tone, he found nothing in his head at all. A flash of your eyes between his legs, the sensation of your tongue in places he hadn’t ever considered was all that seemed to answer him.

Your own smile widened, where the darkness of his power touched your skin a yellow light erupted. The shadows dissolved. Just a man holding you at the neck now. 

“You still can’t say what you want. It’s just us here. Are you truly so prideful? Even now, covered in your own seed?” 

A testing squeeze to your neck.

“Ah, I see. Back to playing Mr. Radio Demon. Well, if thats all then.” Too easily you sat up, knocking him off of you. 

A flourish of darkness, a pop of static and he sank away and out of your bed. Your eyes wandered over to his clothes on your floor. 

Clever but unwise. 

༻Masterlist༺

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel l , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @whateverlololo    , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

[literaila]

were there any occurrences back in the day where gojo and reader almost kissed?

“i’m not helping you with this.”

gojo is sprawled across the bleachers, his limbs way too long, his hair getting all over your notebook. “please,” he repeats, for the fifth time, “he’s going to kill me if i turn it in late again.”

“maybe go ask one of your friends,” you suggest, idly, not even bothering to pull on the white mop that is currently smudging your neat writing. “oh wait. you can’t.”

there’s a smirk on your face because you quite like it when gojo begs

“is this another—“

“‘cause you don’t have any.”

two otherworldly eyes meet yours. gojo glances up at you with a sort of irritation you rarely get to see on him. “how many times are you going to make that joke?” he asks, grumbling. “it’s getting old.”

you grin. “not to me.”

and then you push him away and he sighs as he lays on the bench, one leg propped in front of you, the other folded almost underneath his torso.

“can you go now? i actually need to finish my assignment.”

gojo makes another pathetic noise. “yaga said no more missions until i turn it in, though,” he pokes you with a shoe. “how am i supposed to buy more pocky if i can’t leave school grounds?”

“bribe suguru to buy some for you.”

“that doesn’t work anymore.”

you raise a brow, pushing his foot away. “what’d you do?”

“i didn’t do anything,” he pouts at you, leaning up. “who ever said a verbal contract was binding?”

“mm… the civil code, i think.”

gojo scoffs. “well, i’m still not paying him.”

“what a shame,” you sigh, abandoning your paperwork—how are you supposed to focus with his syrupy voice droning on, anyway? “i guess the next week will be filled with your sugar withdrawals.”

“or…” gojo sits up, smiling at you—his most irritating one, of course, like he knows some secret. “you could help me with this assignment.”

“i’m not cheating for you.”

“‘help,’” he repeats, “do you know what ‘help’ is?”

“your version of help is having me give you all of the answers and then purposefully misspelling some words so yaga won’t notice.”

“do you think i’m illiterate?” gojo asks, mock hurt.

you laugh. “aren’t you?”

he frowns. “now you have to help me.”

“go ask geto, or shoko, or literally anyone else. why am i your first choice whenever you want to annoy someone?”

you see his eyelashes flutter from the tips of his glasses. “because you have the best reactions,” he answers, slyly.

you look away, shaking your head.

“and you’re the smartest. and meanest. i like it when you’re mean to me.”

you look back over, scoffing. “yeah, i know,” you slide over, just a bit. “you freak.”

who said kissing ass never worked?

you really need to work on setting some boundaries with him. or your own idiocy. maybe you should ask shoko if you got a concussion last time you sparred with nanami.

“what’s the assignment?” you ask, making sure not to look at gojo’s face.

he grins, leaning down anyway. as if he doesn’t know what you’re doing. as if he’s not aware that his grins are your breaking point—that they’ll either push you further away or draw you in so close that you can taste his breath.

as if he can’t feel it too.

“you’re going to help me?” he asks, far too proud. “really?”

“you’re buying me lunch next time we have a mission together,” you tell him. “and dinner.”

“am i?”

you look up at him, eyes sharp, mouth ready to—

but he’s right there, and gojo doesn’t know a single thing about personal space.

and you thought that you were used to this. used to feeling like you can see his eyes, even with his blacked out shades. used to the glimmering edges of his teeth, and the smooth shine to his skin.

used to him and his words and..

god damn it. why does he have to make everything so difficult?

and really, it’s not your fault when you lean forward a little bit—because there’s a slight breeze and you were pushed. because you just lost your balance for a second and you just need to straight out again.

and it’s not even you leaning in at all. it’s gojo—it’s always gojo. it’s always satoru making the wrong moves and pushing these things too far, and it’s not your fault that his lips are pink and your eyes are drawn to them, or that everything about him is so hard and soft and—

you flinch away when a bird sings, or when the wind changes, or when you finally catch on to the tone of your own thoughts.

you lean back again, hating yourself for every moment that you didn’t before.

“i—“ you clear your throat. “you are. buying me things, i mean. you are.”

gojo swallows. “okay.”

“okay.”

he doesn’t look at you and you don’t look at him. the two of you pause for a moment, the silence entirely too loud.

“okay,” you repeat. “what’s it about, again?”

[nalooksthrough]

Dale Dimmadome Analysis (with screenshots)

Dale is one of my favourite characters on the show. He's a funny evil man, that amuses me with his antics and his role as a child slave/kidnap victim in the original series leaves a lot to be explored.

This analysis will be talking about his attachment to money which trust me is a lot more interesting than it sounds. This will be quite a long post. I'll put a cut under this paragraph, so that the people who aren't interested don't have to scroll through the whole post.

Going to assume that since you decided to keep reading, that your interested in what I have to say. This analysis will only be covering "Stanky Danky" and "Lost and Founder's Day" with a brief mention of "Operation Birthday Takeback". I think those two episodes are more than sufficient enough to convey my point.

When we first meet Dale in "Stanky Danky" he's seen coming down from a helicopter, onto a big stage to sell products to people. He appears to be level headed with confidence oozing out of him. But this changes the moment he realises that people aren't going to buy anything.

He almost immediately starts to panic.

He starts shuttering as he calls out to the crowd to buy more things.

His panic becomes anger. Briefly switching back to panic before fully settling into anger. His anger then becomes targeted at the person whose telling these people not to buy from him. He questions who this girl is, what's her name.

Once he's learnt her name. He starts thinking up a way he can stop her and get the customer's interest back.

And once he's found it he strikes.

Going as far as to kidnap Danky and emotionally manipulate him just so he can get what he wants.

Leaving the monster in an isolated area of his estate when he's not of any current use to him. I mean talk about becoming your abuser.

And when Hazel and Danky leave he rushes out calling out to the trash monster, saying that he was "like a son" to him. Trying to appeal to Danky's emotions, desperately trying to get him back. All so he doesn't lose that source of profit.

And when he starts losing all his profits at the end of the episode he falls to his knees, wailing in a fit of despair. He's obsessed with money, he needs it and he's willing to do anything to get it. This obsession of his is best shown in "Lost and Founder's Day"

He spends the first portion of the episode happily monologing as he explains how his Dim Watches "tickle" a child's brain to indicate when they want something. Everything is going exactly as he planned.

Until it isn't.

The moment he spots someone not buying anything he starts getting angry. Ranting at the screen.

His anger only growing more when he realises that this "anomaly" is stopping other people from buying things too.

And when Dev points out that stuff is still getting sold and they are still earning money. He shuts him down.

Stating that while yes people are still buying things. The profit he's making from the festival in going down. And he is not happy about it.

In fact he's so enraged by this that he starts to send drones and his son after it so that he can "learn it's secrets". He can't handle the idea that someone doesn't want to buy anything from him.

And when that doesn't work, he activates the statues. Putting the whole festival on lock down until he can track down the "anomaly".

And when a drone points out how counter productive terrorising the festival attendees is to earning money and making a profit. He quite literally shuts it down.

And at the end of the episode, when the statues are put to a stop and everyone leaves.

He's back in that pit of despair. A literal stream of tears flowing out of his eyes. And he so affected by this that he spent literal months studying this "anomaly" figuring out why it didn't seem interested in buying anything during the festival. And the thing is. If he had just left it alone. The festival would have gone on without much of a hitch. But he just couldn't, because it was never about the money. Not really. It was about him.

It's clear that he puts a lot of value onto money. More than most. With money being tied directly to his identity and sense of security. The more money he makes, the better he feels about himself and when he starts to lose money, he takes it as a direct attack on him. He knows what it's like to have nothing and he doesn't ever want to be in that state again. So he obsessively tries to earn more and more in order feel secure in himself. But it's never enough. And when someone threatens that security he goes on the defence. Even at the cost of the losing other potential sales.

And when he loses all his profits and is no longer generating money, he breaks. And for a brief moment, he's no longer Dale Dimmadome owner of Dimmadome G0bal.

He's Dale. A frighten young boy working in a factory underneath a lemonade stand, whose only wish is for his father to come and rescue him.