#downside is I keep looking at it like hmm...... could make more!

[starlingskulls]

also one of the cats i work with really fucked my shit up last shift and i feel very upset about it One because uhmm. rude. but also because ohhh that's deeper than i've ever gone and it didn't hurt that bad .. very interesting information

[bitchlessdino]

put it in writing (m)

In collaboration with @camandemstudios Pairing: college student!seungkwan x Fem!TA!reader Genre: humor, smut Word count: 7.8k tags: college au, TA x student dynamic, push-and-pull, mentions of TXT's soobin, mentions of Ryan Gosling, a lot of fucking lying, explicit content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cream pies, oral, cum-consumption, pet names (baby, good boy), praise kink Summary: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you. a/n: thank you @highvern @sluttyminghao and @strxwberry-skiess for beta reading <3 (late note: I wanna thank @gyuswhore @highvern and @haologram for the brainstorming if I forgot to mention anyone I’m sorry. They’ve been a really big help and we’re super motivating and supportive the entire process I love yall 💕)

You don’t go out. Period. As simple as that.

Until tonight. 

Summer is almost over, and once it ends, you’ll be Professor Yoo’s newest TA. You've worked hard to get to this point and despite the inevitable late-night grading sessions, you expect the experience to be rewarding and maybe even inspirational. You’re sure this achievement would make your academic-forward parents proud. Their daughter, at the top of her class, brimming with excitement and potential, jobs coming in from left and right, all while on her way to...a Writing degree. 

The one downside: they didn’t believe a writing degree would lead to anything substantial. Not like Biomedical engineering or Accounting. The one degree worse than Art. You almost forgot that writing was useless in their eyes because who couldn’t just pick up a pen and paper to scribble some words down?

You down another cheap shot of tequila, muttering your grievances under your breath as your friends revel in the club's pulsating atmosphere. They are only mildly concerned with your drinking habits, accustomed to your tightly wound, studious nature. Typically, you are the one buried in textbooks, rarely venturing into the party scene. Yet tonight, you surprise them all with your ironclad liver, effortlessly downing shots without a hint of a stumble.

“You, okay?”

You scoff, taking yet another shot, “Really depends what that means. ‘Okay’ as in life or ‘okay’ as in financially, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and-slash-or physically fulfilled with proud parents that love me unconditionally?”

“Oh, boy.” Hyeri tries to tear you away from any more alcohol and lays you flat against the back of the leather booth, twisting the top of a water bottle before putting it on your lips. “Let's get you hydrated, hmm? Can’t have you hungover the next day. I’ll be the one you’re complaining to.”

“Suffer my consequences!”

“Of course, darling.”

Hyeri, your steadfast friend since high school and now a new TA from another university, is like a sister to you. She knows your every habit and inclination, no matter how shit-faced you decide to get. “Don’t look, but there’s supple skin, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile looking directly at you.”

You subtly fix your gaze and accidentally meet the young man’s eyes as he nurses a highball glass between his lips. His eyes narrow back at you with interest. You muse back at him, mimicking his action with the water bottle in your grasp. As you drink with your eyes glued on his expression, the water passes over your lips, with the excess trickling suggestively down your chin and neck, your skin glistening in its sheen.

His lips part, dropping in a smug smile–and my, was it prettier than anticipated–and tilt his head as if quietly beckoning you closer. 

“I’m going over there.” 

Before you could get up from your booth, Hyeri is there to immediately tug you back down, eyes full of concern. “Are you sure, hon? You had quite a bit to drink.”

Your eyes crease as you smile back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“He looks young, he probably doesn't even know what a 401k is.”

“Do any of us?” You leave off before striding in the direction of the pretty boy, who still can’t keep his eyes off you.

You weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, sidestepping spilled drinks and the pulsating lights of the dance floor, your eyes locked on him. His gaze trails you with every step, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, speaking to you like an incantation. When you finally reach his feet, the distance closing with each heartbeat, his smile grows wider, more inviting. The moment your legs brush against the softness of his leather couch, he leans to maintain your locked gaze, a now more playful glint in his eyes. Your smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is this seat taken?”

“Only by you if anyone else asks,” he smoothly responds.

You gently lower yourself beside him, lifting one leg to cross it over the other, feeling the cool leather beneath you. His eyes follow your every movement, lingering on the curve of your thigh as it presses against the other. You lean in slightly, your curiosity evident in the arch of your brow. “Why all alone? With a face as pretty as yours, I’d expect someone to be all over you by now.”

He shifts his body toward you, his eyes drinking in your appearance, savoring every detail from the whip of your hair and to glitter on your legs. Meanwhile, the subtle spicy sweet scent of his cologne mingles with the ambient aromas of the club, and you can’t even breathe the air without the desire to jump his bones. Especially one in particular.

He regains his smile, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and extends a hand toward you. “I could say the same for you. I’m Seungkwan.”

You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch and the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles. With a graceful nod, you gave him a firm handshake. You return the gesture by introducing yourself, your voice smooth and inviting, matching the rhythm of the music that pulses around you, and that seems to only grow his interest. “What a pretty name. You’ve been here long?”

“Just long enough,” you say, your voice carrying a playful challenge.

“What is it that someone like you does to want to let loose in a place like this?”

“Mmh, I don’t know. It really depends on how much you’re willing to share,” you reply, narrowing your eyes and taking in that body begging to be undressed.

“Well, if you must know, I work somewhere…uncommon,” he says, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

You lean in too, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and propping your chin on your hand, your fingers lightly brushing your lips. “Do tell, Seungkwan.”

“Don’t be surprised, but I’m a bit of a big deal, especially around here,” he brags.

You raise an eyebrow, ready to bite. “That’s very vague. Mind elaborating?”

He briefly shifts his eyes to glance around the room, the smile never leaving his lips. He leans in closer, his breath warm and tickling against your ear, making it burn. “Just know I know the ins and outs of this club,” he whispers, his voice a tantalizing murmur. “Some information you might find even surprising that no one else knows.”

You pull back slightly, your eyes locking onto his, a spark of intrigue dancing between you. “Sounds like you’ve got some secrets,” you murmur, your voice low and rich. You reach for his drink from the table in front of you, your fingers brushing against his thigh for balance as you lift the glass to your lips. You take a slow, deliberate sip, not minding that its rim has touched a stranger's lips. “How sketchy,” you dare insult with a playful glint in your eye as you set the glass back down.

“Care to find out?”

“What part of ‘ sketchy’ did you not understand?” You softly laugh.

“I promise it’s harmless,” his voice brimming with mischief, poking the inside of his cheek playfully. “Or at least, you’d have a little fun.”

You hum amused. “Define fun.”

He takes you by the hand, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor to a secluded corner of the club. The music echoes softly in the background, its bass reverberating through the walls. You follow him through a maze of dimly lit corridors and alcoves, catching glimpses of other partygoers lost in their own worlds.

The air changes as you enter an empty private space, cooler and quieter than the crowded main room. Your eyes fall on a single secluded corner with windows going ceiling to floor, flooding the room with skylight. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of alcohol and the crisp air of a cracked open window too high to reach.

As you settle into a seat in front of the windows, you observe the city through the crystal clear glass, drinking in the scene of small tables adorned with flickering candles, and erotic artwork adorning the walls. The music from the main floor is muted here like the world behind closed doors fell silent for this moment, and only you two are left in the room to bask in it. If temptation was room, this had to be it.

There’s a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something unreadable—resembling pride—before they revert back to his calm suavity. He assumes the seat next to you on the plush velvet couch tucked into a private nook that touches the light of the stars. The soft glow of ambient lights casts a warm, intimate ambiance around you, contrasting with the pulsating beats of the club music that drifts in from the main floor.

“It’s a V.V.I.P area,” Seungkwan explains in a low voice, “Some of the employees don’t even know it exists.”

“But someone like you does?” you inquire, your voice tinged with intrigue.

He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor as his body dipped into the leather. “I have my way around here.”

“Really?” you tease, growing slowly more convinced.

Seungkwan meets your gaze with a playful grin. “I obviously can’t tell you everything,” he says, his tone brimming with mischief. “Just know that I’m involved in ways that keep this place running smoothly. The club would die without me.”

You chuckle softly, savoring his playful confidence, and leaning against the cushions, head turned to him. “What can you tell me?” you ask, your voice growing softer. Your finger traces a teasing path down the collar of his shirt, undoing a button with deliberate slowness. “Humor me,” you exhale, your breath brushing against his ear and your gaze locked with his.

You can hear his breath hitch, and finally, you have him right where you want him. He fixes on the way your legs cross, tracing the curve of your calf up to where they disappear under the hem of your skirt. He seems momentarily captivated by the subtle movement of your flesh as they collide against each other, giving hardly any brain capacity to cumulate words.

You notice the furrow of his brow, a slight tilt of his head—as if he were mentally dissecting his thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes tried to regain clarity. You can almost visualize the gears turning in his mind, each cog clicking into place as he forms a coherent story, if any.

Each word comes out in complete shambles and he is saying more nothing than anything. Whatever the truth is at this point, you don’t care. Seungkwan is just too cute to pass up.

The clearing of his throat tells you he’s finished, the tilt of his smile growing less confident and more anxious as your weight pushes against his chest. He tries to come back from his stumble, picking off strands of hair in front of your face and playing with their ends before changing the subject. “Now tell me your work. What is so amazing that you do?”

“I’m—“ a teacher’s aid in massive debt on their way to graduating with potentially a useless degree neither of their parents is proud of because, although you love it,  you’re too proud to say otherwise, “—a indie movie producer with one of the films up for a reward. Super lowkey right now, but…we got Gosling.” You shrug, impressed with your own lies. “So, things are looking up.”

“That’s quite impressive.” he hums, intrigued and interested in hearing about more. “Is he as nice in real life as he is in interviews?”

“Ryan’s got a screw or two loose, but pretty okay guy. At least not into Scientology or anything.”

“Interesting,” He gaze dips towards you, being drawn to you immensely, if not locking eyes with you, scanning over your features, particularly your lips that wished to be claimed. “You call all big-name celebrities by their first name?”

You shrug, the lying coming more and more naturally than anticipated. “Only the ones I’m close with.”

His palm hugs the curve of your cheek, thumb softly brushing against your bottom lip. “I wonder what getting close to you entails.”

“Are you planning on finding out?”

You give each other a long look, one that keeps waiting and ushering the other until your lips decidedly crash into his. His lips part, making way for your presence, the heat of the kiss flushing your skin and pleased shivers running throughout your entire body. Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth pulling your flesh and a soft sigh escapes his lips before his hand creeps behind your head and muffles a moan that neither were sure from who.

You lift your body from the couch, chasing his pace, and pull him closer, kissing him deeper with all your might. You crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, hands in his hair, breath on his skin. Your chest tightens as he presses you closer by the small of your back, to which you gasp as you part from his lips.

He finds your gaze, his round and glistening eyes meeting yours in soft urgency. “You okay? Something wrong?”

You shake your head, palm clasped against your burning face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He lets out an amused scoff. “Keep up, Miss producer.”

Your lips reconnect, and fireworks play in your like it’s the fourth of July. Popping and popping. Your lip lock only intensifies as your tongues brush against one another, entangling deeper and soon you realize Seungkwan wasn’t one just to kiss with his lips. 

You ball his clothes in fists when his hands use your hips, running them over his lap, the friction so tantalizing you could hear temptation like a devil on your shoulder. You let him take you, moving towards him replicating crashing waves against sand. Loud. Harsh. Seamless.

Clothes come off soon after, starting with the delicate unbuttoning of Seungkwan’s silk top–donning the torso of one fond of sports and sprayed in excitable perspiration–before then he levers you up and slides slacks down his thighs hurriedly. His bare legs crushed underneath yours, you readily pull up your dress, bunching at your waist as feel him unzip the back, the metal chill against your spine.

“Fuck,” he softly mutters, eagerly digging his fingers in your exposed flesh and whimpering against your kiss. “Don’t hold back with me.”

“Hold back?” you repeat with a chuckle, your fingers that threaded through his hair pulling his head back, angling his head so that he was forced to look up at you in what currently looks to be in awe. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

“Shit stirrer, huh? I guess that’s why you’re the one handling production.”

Your lips begin to trail down his jaw, front teeth nipping his skin. “Real question is, would you let me handle yours?”

“I’d let you do anything to me,” he mumbles, earnest in every word, every inch of his body vibrating off yours, including the hardening presence between his legs pressing against your stomach. “Just don’t stop.”

Your dress abandoned on the floor, Seungkwan claiming your tits in either hand, kneading them between his fingers as he’s rolling his hips against your plush flesh and feeling your radiating core slide against his shaft. He involuntarily moans through a bitten bottom lip, imagining you ride him just like this until the end of time, thinking he could cum from this alone until he feels you move the tip of his size towards your entrance. “Oh god,” he gives out, the head of his cock readily grazing over your slit, quickly pleased. “So fucking wet. Fuck…”

“I want you inside me,” you admit, not bothering to subdue your desires. “I want to put you inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”

“Fuck…me…” he presses into your skin flushed against one another, lips curled downward in impatience, gripping your full thighs to either of his sides. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Please give yourself to me.”

“You promise you’ll handle it like a good boy?” You tease, pushing his tip only a centimeter deeper.

“Please, please, anything. I just wanna feel that pussy choke me please.” He begs.

Your hand clamps against the couch enthusiastically, “Fuck you’re so needy. That’s so hot.” Gingerly, you reward his pleas, feeling his raw length make contact with your contracting walls, squeezing around his girth and making Seungkwan flip his eyes before he starts guiding your hips.

“Fuck that’s so good, baby.”

You lightly scoff. “Baby? A little soon don’t you think?”

“Thought we found some common ground when you decided for me to fuck you. My mistake,” he chides.

You catch a tendril of his hair between your fingers, “Maybe it’s how you fuck me that grants you such a term of endearment.”

“Better up my game then.” He lifts you up, tangling your legs around his waist before he pushes you on your back, swiftly slamming his hips against you.

Your head crashes deep into the leather, the musky scent of sex now invading your nose as you drown in heat. “Shit.”

“Making sure I get the advantage.” He folds forward to press against you, your breasts back in his hands before his lips wrap around a nipple, his tongue attacking your sensitivity before he inevitably sucks. He leaves you in an ache, your hips thrusting back into him conveniently in time for him to regain his rhythm.

“S-Seungkwan…”

His moan vibrates against your skin, teeth pulling your nipple as he thrusts deeper, grazing your deep end just perfectly not enough. Fucking tease.

You whine beneath him, squirming. Your legs tighten around him, attempting to make friction, and finding a growl in your throat as a hand of Seungkwan’s squeezes your behind. A whole ass cheek in the clutches of his well-groomed hands, squeezing and memorizing its swell, while he’s splitting you in half to deduce you to a bumbling horny mess.

“Where have you been all my life?” He mumbles with glee.

You clench your fists behind him as he heightens his pace, melting into the tender assault of his lips that burn your skin and silence your voice. He ruts into you deeper, pounding away his frustrations and when he makes it known he’s found your spot, you make it clear as day.

“Oh god,” you groan, gripping him tighter. Your jaw drops slack, silent screams coming out of you, and you cling to him like in desperation to maintain that high as you claw against his broad back.

“That’s so good. Is it right there, am I hitting your spot, baby?” he asks with an exhausted grin.

You nod, softly pleading for more, and he generously grants. In an attempt to intensify your core’s pleasure, his hand cups just above your slit, fingers finding your blossoming bud. Your breath is shot, feeling the caress of his thumb press down before rubbing your arousal around your clit. Your hips thrust into his touch, gripping him by the shoulders, feeling your combined sweat drip from your sides and squeaking against the couch fabric.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” You can’t control it anymore. Seungkwan isn’t just pushing you past the edge, he's shoving you off.

“Like that, baby. Yes, what good girl cumming all over my cock,” he sweetly praises.

You reach him by the back of his head and propel him forward, colliding lips in a fervent liplock. Your moans drowned between one another, your climax coming in tenfold as he didn’t for a second stop, even well after you came. 

Yet, it isn’t enough. Seungkwan shifts and tugs your legs to border his torso. He lifts himself from the ground, his feet flat, shutting your legs tight, having the sweat of your thighs chafe against another unsettlingly. It then becomes completely overlooked with his hips, his cock starts pushing in and out of you, and folding himself into you with your closed legs as your pussy choked around his cock. Your walls pulsating around him, hot and lush, he death grips your body and watches your flesh recoil back against him deliciously. 

“Fucking shit,” he groans, plunging deeper as your cries moisten your cheeks and he brings you to a foreign level of ecstasy. 

His release from what you can tell is thick, warm, and inviting. Your legs find a mind of their own when they decide to lock the stranger in place, feel every ounce of pure pleasure shooting down inside you, coating you in your collaborative efforts, and residing peacefully deep, deep in your sore heat. 

Your lover collapses against you, eyes barely managing to open as he guides your bodies in a more comfortable position, his cum and cock still inside you. 

He’s softly pant, red on every inch of his face, residual from his raging orgasm and…fluster? “I…I don’t usually—“

“I don’t mind,” you gently reassure, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I wanted that to happen.”

“But what if—“

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” you hint and fortunately he gets the clue, cuddling up to you closer.

“Good.” He nods, sounding off in relief.

You play with his ear, thumbing over the flaming red tip. “That was really good.”

The boy can’t help but grin, “I make good on my promises…and if you want, we can do it again.”

Your movement stops. “Oh.” Now you’re panicking. “I don’t think we should.”

His cock slips out of you with ease at your confession, both flaccid and disappointed as cum drips down the leather. “Why not? I thought you liked it.”

You begin sitting up, taking Seungkwan with you. “Of course I do! It’s just…my schedule doesn’t allow me to date—let alone see people outside of work—so, this wouldn’t work.” You offer him an apologetic pat on the back, feeling the muscles pulse against you before you regretfully pull away. “This is actually my last night in town, I was gonna leave soon for another shoot…but this was wonderful.”

You cup his cheek, flushed red and soft as can be, and kiss its fullness, letting your lips linger. “I’m so sorry.” For absolutely lying about everything about me when you gave me the most incredible orgasm I’ve had in centuries and to myself for cutting lose the hottest fucking man fiction and nonfiction you’ve ever fucking met.

“No, I get it,” he answers, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “You got things going for you. That’s ok. Just let me know when you’re in town, hmm? We can get together again, maybe?”

His sense of hope is admirable, something you saw in yourself a few years ago before the toppling towers of crippling debt fell on you. “I don’t think so, handsome.”

He sighs. “Alright. I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “Don’t be.”

“You ended my vacation the best way you could’ve,” you egg on, “Couldn’t have ended my last night in town any better.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, finally a light flickering back in his eyes. “Then maybe I can give you a parting gift.”

You raise an eyebrow, following his figure leaving your body and find his knees back in the ground and between your legs, “Seungkwan?”

“Can’t have you leave a mess.” His hand glides over your thighs, gaze flickering from you and your cunt oozing in cum, and his full lips kissing your inner thigh, tingling legs and garnering goosebumps down your shins.

“Are you actually—“

His tongue scraps on the skin just next to your lips, a mixture of your climax settling on his tongue, and you mewl at the sight. He kneads your flesh, his moans tickling your skin and admiring it how he knew how: worship.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers play against your sensitive folds, tension pressed on your clit. “You’re everything I could want…tasting you and pleasing you is the least I could do.”

His mouth wrapped around your lips before sucking, tongue parting what’s between, and sighing at the harmonious flavor dancing inside his mouth. Your worn walls contract around him, it feeds his desire as he pushes his face deeper inside you, and melts at your hands finding hair in soft strokes. 

Your voice aches for another release. The sensation of his jaw locking and nodding in your heat as his tongue fucks his cum back inside you drives you to up a wall. You squirm the faster he flicks his tongue, legs pulling back and forward, overwhelmed by Seungkwan’s mouth until he holds either one at either side, locking it around his neck.

His eyes ooze with determination and his face falls from color. The compromising position he put himself in is not one free consequence, but for the last single of the most greatest fuck of his life, losing a bit of oxygen was worth it, and his efforts are soon proven.

When you cum this time on his tongue, Seungkwan has never tasted anything sweeter, or rather bittersweet knowing this would be the last he’d get the chance to. He’s tasting you, savoring you, worshiping you. From the scent of your body, to the face you make, from what you feed him. If he knew how impossibly decadent you just were–only for you to leave–maybe he wouldn’t have done this. Or maybe he would.

Reluctantly, Seungkwan breaks apart from your lips to reconnect with another. One last shared, heated breath of this spontaneous exchange. One that he’d remember for a long time, and think about over long nights. Tenderly, your foreheads are the ones to kiss in a silent farewell, sad smiles on both your faces.

“Thank you…for reminding me what it feels like to live my own life.”

The pretty boy softly scoffs, kissing you once more, the tingle his lips lingering on yours. “Make your stories magical as you’ve made my night. Take care, Miss Producer.”

You quickly get dressed before the sexy stranger pulls you right back in his trace and you drag your friend and club attendee all the way back home, giving you the pleasure of finally resting in bed, body still aching from the sweltering sex hours ago. Sadly, without the warm body you enjoyed so much tonight. He made a lasting impression on you and you hope maybe one day on better circumstances you’ll meet again and the lie may someday be true. If you’re so lucky.

Eventually, summer takes its final laps and you’re entering the college semester and start working closely with the professor you’re aiding. The matter that your life is slowly being sucked away becomes more real the longer you look at his lesson plan and although you love writing, you know you’re about to dread the long evenings of paperwork to come. 

The first day of being a TA: get in the building by the car you have barely hanging on, meet with the professor, get in lectures and “TA”, skim through your new work for graduate classes, and sadly eat your late lunch/dinner alone because you know the ziplock of trail mix marinating in your backpack would not be enough. That’s the plan. Easy to follow.

Students start trickling into the classroom about twenty minutes before actual lecture time, some with nervous faces and excited expressions. Then a few minutes before the lecture starts, hoards of students are coming through, the classroom getting louder and louder as there is not enough space for white noise. You feel your heart beating increasingly–admittedly more nervous than anticipated–finding yourself focused on papers to avoid eyes with the other students until you can’t anymore.

With over 100 students, you start to feel like an imposter, a kid playing dress-up in her mom’s closet. Normally, you're not one to get nervous on the first day, but being a teacher’s assistant makes this situation different. You’re terrified of screwing up, whether it’s a big mistake or a small one. You tell yourself you need to get out of your head.

When roll call becomes necessary, the professor hands you the clipboard, forcing you to introduce yourself and make your presence known. Your hands tremble from natural nerves as you call out the names on the list, doing your best to pronounce each one clearly and coherently. Then your gaze lands on a name all too familiar, one that’s been on the tip of your tongue before. You can’t help but look up, eager to hear the voice that responds.

He stares at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, his lips curling up at the corners as his eyes gleam with intrigue—just like that night before.

You clear your throat, quickly averting your gaze, and resume roll call. You decide right then to ignore him for the rest of the day, the semester, and possibly the rest of your college career, if you can help it.

When you finish, you don’t dare look up again, telling yourself it’s because it’s the first day. You’ve done everything you needed to do for now.

As the lecture wraps up, it’s time to leave. The professor dismisses the class and exits the room, leaving you to pick up the pieces and answer any lingering questions from students. You just hope this particular student isn’t one of them.

“I had a question, Miss LN.”

You’re reminded that hope is just another word for wishful thinking. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. His voice is already etched into your memory, feeding the part of you that wants to respond, and you clench your thighs at the memory.

“Sure, what… um, what is it?” you respond, still not looking up.

“It’s about the syllabus. I was hoping we could discuss it in private?” His tone carries a hint of something familiar, something that doesn’t belong between a student and a teacher’s assistant.

“The syllabus is pretty self-explanatory,” you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral, though your pulse quickens.

“But I wanted to ask, just in case I misinterpreted anything.”

You make a show of straightening the papers on your desk, the crisp shuffle loud enough to make it clear you’re not amused. “You're a writing major. I’m sure you understand everything just fine.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” he says, a casual shrug masking the intent behind his words.

You sigh, knowing you won’t easily shake him off. Finally, you meet his gaze, catching the anticipation simmering in his eyes. With a resigned breath, you gather your belongings and stand. “Fine, follow me.”

As you lead him to a tucked-away corner, your footsteps echo in the quiet hallway. You glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes before stopping. He waits until you’re both out of sight before speaking, his voice lowering in that familiar way that sends a shiver down your spine. “So, how’s the indie film coming along, Miss Producer?”

Your arms cross instinctively, a barrier against the playful look on his face. His eyes sparkle with amusement, as if this is all a game to him. As if your college career and your career career didn’t hang on the very balance of this conversation and your history. “Very funny,” you reply, glaring at him. “Just two big liars caught in their own webs of lies. How serendipitous.”

He chuckles softly, the sound unnervingly familiar and instinctively arousing. “I know why I lied, but why did you?”

You plant a hand to your chest defensively. “Excuse me, I never anticipated seeing you ever again. It’s natural I’d lie—wait, why did you lie?”

“To get laid. Duh.” He answers as if it was the obvious thing in the world.

You roll your eyes, back knocking against the wall behind you. “Of course, fucking dumbass college boys.”

“You fell for it, so who’s the dumbass now?”

“Still you? Were you even drinking age?”

“Uh, yes that’s how I got in, otherwise they never would’ve let me in.”

Your palm runs over your face in embarrassment, cringing for long nights of thinking of your student of all fucking people. “I fucking knew you didn’t own the Gemstone.”

“Yet, you fucked me anyway.”

You rush towards him, your breath catching as you pin your fingers in front of your lips and hiss, “Will you shut your mouth?”

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Why? You’re a TA, not a professor.It’s perfectly kosher.”

“It’s still highly frowned upon to fraternize in that manner, regardless of whether I’m a TA or a professor. I grade your fucking papers,” you shoot back, your eyes narrowing as the frustration rises in your chest.

He just shrugs, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Hey, if it gets me a good grade…”

“Or watch me fucking fail you,” you snap, stepping even closer, your voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever speak a word about that night again, got it?”

His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, geez.”

“Good.”

But he can’t resist one last jab, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “My lips—and pants—are sealed.”

“Seungkwan!” You hiss his name, barely keeping your voice down, your cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, it’s been a while since you screamed my name.”

You grit your teeth and speak through harsh whispers, your patience wearing thin. 

“I will drop-kick you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

He grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in just a fraction. “Like I said, I keep my promises. See you on Wednesday, Miss TA.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, seething, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway. The air still buzzes with the tension between you, and you take a moment to collect yourself before heading back, wondering how you’re going to survive the rest of the semester with him in your class. If all your encounters are like this, you might as well quit now.

As expected, that initial confrontation isn’t the last you see of Seungkwan. While being your student, your forced interactions have become a bit of a spectacle among other students, especially considering Seungkwan stares back at you every lecture like you’re the only two people in the room. His routine of pestering during and after lectures has become something his peers have look forward to and you wonder if this kind of thing is normal for a teacher’s assistant.

It seems to have stirred up varying opinions, even among students from other classes—ones far removed from your department, who typically wouldn’t give a second thought to your work. The rumors have even reached the ears of other TAs, the ones you’ve built strong camaraderie with, turning casual conversations into whispered speculations. Some of those speculations have been harmless, fueled by curiosity and mild intrigue. But others? They’ve taken on more confrontational, and their tense gazes have you questioning just how far these rumors have gone.

But is it really a rumor if its all true?

"So, you and that Seungkwan kid, what's that about?"

You give a grand sigh, the weight of your colleague's curiosity pressing down on you as he peers at you, eyes alight with nosy mischief. His intent is clear—he's fishing for details about your relationship with one of your many students. But Seungkwan is different. Far different, even if you’d never admit that aloud knowing how your reputation would stand.

"Really not your business, bud," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, though it’s hard to miss the edge beneath your words.

Your colleague, Soobin, raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your attempt to shut him down. "Funny enough, I’m in the business of making things my business."

You scoff, fingers curling tightly around the handle of your freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of the cup your only source of comfort in this conversation. The rich aroma wafts up, offering a brief distraction. "He's my student, obviously, and he’s going to stay that way."

The words come out sharper than intended, the finality of your tone surprising even you. You take a long sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness anchor you. This conversation is tiptoeing too close to a line you’re not ready to cross.

Soobin raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. "Okay, okay. No need to be so defensive. Good thing you’re keeping it professional."

"I know that. Why are you mansplaining, Soobin? Don’t you have work to do?"

"Of course. Just wanted to point out—it’d be a real problem if you did."

"Uh, yeah. Obviously."

"Good."

"Good."

"I just wouldn’t want to lose anything over it."

You narrow your eyes at him. "What now?"

He hesitates before continuing, grinning sheepishly. "Okay, okay. There might be a bet going around about whether or not you and that kid sleep together again."

"What the—again? Again? What are you talking about?" You gape at him, incredulity painting your features as you struggle to process his words.

"Oh, come on, don’t play dumb," Soobin says with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows."

You blink, your mind racing to catch up. "…Everyone?"

"Everyone." He nods emphatically, the corners of his mouth twitching as he takes in your stunned reaction.

Your face falls, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration, your shoulders slumping. "Well, fuck." The words escape you like a dismayed exhale, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"And I bet that you wouldn’t. At least, not until the end of the semester."

"You bet  money on me?" You’re seething, anger now directed at him.

"Not money," Soobin says quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off any further criticism. He leans in slightly, his tone taking on a pleading edge. "But seriously, just don’t do it, okay? Be a good TA and a good friend. Don’t sleep with the boy. Just... don't."

You glare at him, incredulous. "I oughta do it just to make you lose."

"Please don’t! It wasn’t money I bet!"

You narrow your eyes further. "What did you bet, then?"

Soobin shifts uncomfortably. "Just... test answers."

"Soobin."

"Please! Just help me win this. I’m begging you!" Soobin’s voice is desperate, his eyes wide and pleading.

“You could jeopardize your scholarships with this kind of bet.”

“So don’t let me lose this one!” His frustration is palpable, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“I could just hit you,” you threaten, though the words come out more resigned than menacing.

“But I’m so lovely. Don’t you think?” Soobin’s attempt at levity falls flat, his forced grin barely concealing his anxiety.

“Soobin, this is seriously messed up.”

He continues, undeterred, “The money I could win could buy me a new apartment to rent out. I’d finally be able to move off-campus.”

“This is so fucked up,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, I’m literally on my knees here, dude,” Soobin says, lowering himself as if pleading for mercy.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to stave off the growing irritation. “Fine, damn it. Okay. I hope you’ve fucking learned your lesson and won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”

You meet his gaze head-on, your patience visibly thinning. "Are we done here?"

He nods vigorously, a small, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course."

As Soobin walks away, you watch him go, the remnants of the conversation hanging in the air like the fading scent of coffee. You take another sip of your drink, this time more deliberately, letting the warmth seep into you. You try to channel your remaining energy into something productive, determined to salvage what’s left of your day. The knowledge of the bet and the weight of your friend’s reputation hanging in the balance makes every decision weigh heavy on your shoulders.

Despite the sprawling campus and the vast number of students, gossip is as vibrant and pervasive as ever. Seungkwan doesn’t help matters, especially with the frequent discussions you’re having about his late assignments. No matter how stern and resolute your tone becomes, he meets you with a gaze that’s both wistful and enigmatic. His eyes, filled with a mix of wonder and intrigue, follow your every movement. They start by meeting yours directly, then drift downward, lingering on your face, then lower, then lower, and finally–

"Are you paying attention, Seungkwan? Or am I going to have to talk to Professor Yoon about you finally dropping the class?"

Seungkwan leans against the auditorium chairs, averting his attention to the sharp expression on your face, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "No, nothing of the sort, Miss TA. Please, continue to lecture me about what an awful student I am."

Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms, forward on your desk, tapping your foot with growing impatience as you shuffle through to gather your belongings. "I will—and starting where your assignments have been showing up several days late. I can’t keep making exceptions for you."

"Why not? You’re so good at making me feel special," he teases, head tilted, his voice dripping with a sultry sarcasm.

Your patience snaps as you sharply tap the stack of aligned papers on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Stop it, will you? Your grade is sinking fast, and at this rate, you’ll be repeating the class."

He shrugs, that maddening grin still in place. "Would that really be so bad? You’d get a whole new semester with me."

You scoff, standing upright, pacing a few steps as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. "Are you seriously going to waste your tuition money just to fail? At least pretend to make an effort. Chatgpt exists for students like you I’m assuming."

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If only someone wasn’t so distracting, maybe I could. You’d understand, Miss TA."

You stop mid-step, spinning to face him, your voice sharp. "Enough. And stop calling me that—it’s like you get off on it."

"Oh, I do." The playful tone in his voice is laced with something else now, something heavier.

Your jaw clenches, heat rising to your face, thighs sealed against one another.. "Your assignments. On time. By the end of this week, or I’ll recommend to Professor Yoon that you drop the class."

"Fine," he mutters, his tone nonchalant, the smirk still lingering lazily on his lips as he halfheartedly stuffs his books into his bag. His movements are careless, and a few sheets of notebook paper slip out, drifting lazily to the floor without him even noticing.

You sigh, bending down to pick them up. As you straighten, your eyes unintentionally flick over the handwritten lines—only for something to catch your attention. You freeze, blinking at the words on the page. "What the...?"

Seungkwan’s demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes widen, and he lunges forward, panic flashing across his face. "Don’t read that!" His voice is more urgent, almost desperate.

But you dodge his grasp, holding the paper just out of reach, your brow furrowing. "What is this? And why is it actually... interesting?"

"Give it back," he says, his tone softer, pleading now. 

"Why don’t you put this much effort into your assignments?" you ask, glancing up at him, your curiosity overtaking your frustration.

Before you can react, Seungkwan steps closer, his movements more deliberate this time. He snatches the paper from your hands, but his proximity catches you off guard. He’s standing close—too close—backing you into the edge of your desk. His face is flushed, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and you can see the embarrassment in his narrowed eyes, the tips of his ears burning red.

Your heart stutters in your chest, your breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. The air feels thick, charged with something you know too fucking well. For a moment, neither of you moves, your eyes locked like you’re frozen. You’re acutely aware of every small detail—the way his fingers clutch the paper tightly, how his chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth radiating from him as he towers just slightly over you.

Suddenly, he stumbles, his foot catching on the leg of the desk, and you gasp as his weight nearly knocks you backward. Your hands shoot out, gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Your glasses slip down your nose as you blink up at him, your pulse quickening, his face inches from yours.

"Sorry," Seungkwan mutters, quickly pulling away, flustered as he hurriedly gathers the fallen papers, stuffing them into his bag. "I’ll do the assignments. Just... don’t fail me. And don’t repeat whatever you think you read."

Without waiting for your reply, he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving, the ghost of his presence lingering in the suddenly too-quiet space.

You try to steady your breath, ignoring how ragged it had become, and the unsettling way your blood pulsed—not just through your heart, but in places you'd rather not acknowledge. You forcefully push those thoughts aside, desperate for any distraction. Tonight, that distraction would be class assignments.

With an iced coffee marinating at the corner of your office desk, the papers in front of you blur as his face flashes through your head. You can’t help but recall the way his lips looked—full and slightly parted, the way his eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and something else entirely. And the warmth of him—how heavy and undeniably right he felt as he leaned over you, his presence lingering even after he was gone.

You shake your head, determined to refocus on grading, gripping the red pen a little tighter. But your mind drifts again, this time to the words you’d glimpsed on that crumpled page. The writing had a familiarity to it, something deeply personal that tugged at the corners of your mind. Reminding you of how much you remembered that night. Specifically how good that night felt.

‘Her whispers, haunting, breath heavy. She gazes at me with eyes full of want, strands of hair falling over her forehead, tantalizing and wild. Her cheek is warm beneath my hand as I pull her closer, our lips meeting, tasting the sweetness of something long desired but never claimed. For this night, she is mine—even if it's only for this night alone.’

Your cheeks flush as the memory hits, the realization settling in with a mix of shock and something you can't quite name. The words were unmistakable—vivid, intimate, dripping with a desire that mirrored the tension between you two. You recognized the inspiration behind them immediately.

He’s writing his own fanfiction. And it’s about you.

Suddenly, you’re not so much thinking about the bet Soonbin warned you about.

[cryinginmommyissues]

But you belong to me...

Five months ago, you got married to Vice-President elect, Victoria Neuman. Victoria didn't really show any interest in you, until someone tried to take what's hers.

MDNI 18+ , smut, not proofread (im sorry if this is awful ive never written smut ever ???? I just had to get this out of my head)

Her wife. You were Victoria Neuman’s wife. The only downside, it’s an arranged marriage. You still don’t understand how it happened, but it did and now you’ve found yourself thrown into the world of politics and lies. Victoria wasn’t mean but she also wasn’t kind. Sure she’d let you continue ur daily routine, didn’t force you into anything you didn’t want to, but it was like living with a ghost. Small conversations would happen but no more than that. In the eye of the public, you’ve been keeping up with the perfect couple image, but in reality you didn’t even share the same bed. 

Every week or two, Victoria would have an event or something she’d attend, and you would of course accompany her. This night was just like any other night. You came in hand in hand, smiled and made conversation with some people. At one point you got separated, Victoria talking with some politicians, and you keeping a drink in hand because you hated these kinds of things. Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning around you were faced with a man. He seemed kind enough, wanting to strike a conversation. “I find it hard to believe someone as beautiful as you is standing here alone”. You smiled at him and thanked him, showing him your wedding ring and slowly turning your back to him, hoping he’d take the hint to leave you alone. He didn’t. 

Before he could speak up again you felt a pair of arms around your waist. “Good thing she’s not, right honey?” Victoria spoke out in a low and sultry voice. You could feel the heat on your face, her voice always did something to you. “Right excuse me, i’ll leave you two alone” said the man and left in a hurry. Your back was still pressed up against Victoria and she was making small movements on your waist, you had to fight the urge to lean into her touch. “You sure are beautiful tonight, I hope he wasn’t bothering you”. you could feel her smirk on the back of your ear making you shiver. You turned around and looked at her, mesmerized by her brown eyes. “I think he was terrified you were going to pop his head”. “Hmm I could make that happen if that’s what you want” she said in a low tone. Her being a supe was no suprise to you, in fact it kind of turned you on, but in no way were you going to let her know that. “I don’t think we need to take such a drastic measure darling”. The nickname slipping out while you kept looking at her lips. If she wanted to play this game, you were gonna play right back. “I think.. we should probably go home..” said Victoria while keeping a hand around your waist, dragged you two to the car, where her driver waiting. 

Once you two were in the car, she didn’t waste any time before crashing her lips on yours. Moaning in surprise, your hands quickly grabbing her biceps and deepened the kiss. She pulls back first, her breath short and her pupils blown. You practically felt her vibrate underneath your touch. You decided to stop and catch your breath as you were approaching your house. As soon as you got out of the car and into the house, Victoria was grabbing you by the waist and kissing you like she was hungry for you. "Upstairs. Now." she said in a raspy voice, turning you on even more. You don’t even know how you made it to her room before she was pushing you to the edge of the bed. You were trying to get her out of that damn blazer, needing to see more of her. "not so fast baby, i want my way with you first." She reached to your back slowly unzipping your dress and watching it fall on the floor. "You are so beautiful… " You could feel her gaze ravaging your body, making you blush. She pushed you back on the bed, her mouth coming up to leave a trail of kisses on your neck, making her way to your breast. You were so glad to have worn that front-clasp bra, watching her take it off in a hurry before taking your right nipple in her mouth. You couldn’t help but arch into her mouth, a low moan escaping from you. You could feel her smirk on your skin, driving you even more crazy. She kept sucking and licking, her other hand playing with your other tit before switching to give each one the same attention. "Victoria…" you rasped out. She continue her trail of kisses all over your stomach, stopping when she reached the band of your underwear. She came up to look at you, seeing red marks all over and smiling at all her work. "My pretty girl, tell me what you want". You almost forgot that for five months, she hadn’t once looked at you with desire but here she was standing between your legs, hands caressing your thighs. She slowly leaned in and whispered in your ear. "Do you know how hard it was to resist you whenever i saw you around the house. All i wanted to do was take you right here right there." You let out a shaky breath at her words, feeling her kiss your jaw and softly squeezing your neck. "Tell me what you want", god the way she was looking at you, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper. "c’mon now, don’t be shy baby". "Victoria, please" she chuckled at the way you were pleading for her, her right hand toying with your underwear. "Please what? Use your words" her hand was trailing closer to your center, almost bucking into her hand. "Just touch me please!"

Not needing to be told twice, she quickly got rid of your underwear and sank to her knees, coming face to face with your dripping cunt. "Are you always this wet for me baby? Do you walk around the house waiting for me to fuck you hm?" Her voice was driving you crazy and she knew it. You sit up on your elbow as she slowly licks up to your clit, applying pressure, making your head fall back in a moan. She starts sucking and licking at you until your a panting mess under her. She comes up to your face and you groan at the loss of contact. Before you could even speak, you felt her fingers teasing your entrance. "Stop… teasing" your voice was breathy and filled with want. You needed her. She finally slid her fingers into you, making you grab the sheets, feeling her other hand grip your hips in a possessive manner. Victoria let out a small fuck at feeling you around her fingers. She picked up her pace while kissing your chest again and then your stomach. "Victoria, oh my god" you let out a chocked moan at what she was doing to you. She lifted your left leg over her shoulder before dipping her mouth on your core. The feeling of her tongue and her fingers were driving you so close to the edge. You felt her knuckles deep inside you, the tip of her fingers pressing on that spot. She knew you were close, she could feel it in the way you were practically riding her face and gripping her hair. She pulled her mouth away from you and you felt her breath on your clit "Let go baby, won't you be good and cum for me?" before latching at you again. You couldn’t take it anymore, the tension in your lower abdomen getting stronger with your climax building. "Victoria, don’t stop". You were pleading, not even trying to keep your moans to yourself, feeling her everywhere. Victoria’s fingers moved faster, her thrusts becoming more urgent. Her tongue was doing tricks on you. "imgonnacumohmygod" and there you were coming undone on her fingers and she was lapping up at you, not letting any drop go to waste. Her fingers came to a slow, letting you ride your high before stopping completely and slowly pulling out. You felt empty at the loss of her. "Open your eyes baby", you tried but your vision was still blurry. After a few try, you saw Victoria hovering over you, sucking her finger dry of you, and that alone made you almost cum again. 

She helped you up, making you straddle her. Her hands ran up and down on your sides, sending a shiver down your spine. "You know you’re mine. My wife."  "You belong to me, and i’m gonna make sure you don’t forget it". Her voice was dripping in possessiveness, pulling you down for a kiss. The night was going to be long.

[vixstarria]

Are you mine?

So I was initially going to do maybe 500 words worth of them being cute and cuddly, but then this happened. I have no control at this point, I am just the messenger. 

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV 

Mostly fluff and comfort with a bit of hurt (Astarion’s past recollections), basically just pillow talk, cuddling, banter, non-explicit, no spoilers 

Very late Act 1 / early Act 2 (pre-confession). I’ve already written past this point earlier, but I think it’s such a fun time to return to for anything flirty, with Astarion being in love but being pissed off and / or in denial about it.  

Approximately 2,000 words 

AO3

Being able to get by with little sleep was both a blessing and a curse. In no time at all you were ready to take on whatever the day would throw at you. You were rested, alert, ready for battle. The downside? The amount of time you had to spend alone with your thoughts.   

You weren’t fully alone, not exactly. You laid on your side with your nose buried in her neck, one of your arms underneath the pillow, the other wrapped around her, your leg following the bend of hers like you were chasing her warmth, bare skin on bare skin, your bodies filling each other’s nooks so perfectly.  

You could have been up and doing something useful, you supposed, but you didn’t want to waste a precious second of being able to just hold her. 

You winced and sighed, having caught yourself on that thought.  

Pathetic idiot... 

The truth was, you knew you were living on borrowed time.  

Oh you toyed with the idea of amassing more tadpoles for more powers and seeing how long and how far you could take this, but in your heart of hearts you knew this was a lunatic idea. The absolute best-case scenario was that one way or another, the tadpole would be removed from your brain, removing all its benefits alongside it. 

Then, you would spend the rest of your eternal life in the shadows, forever looking over your shoulder in fear of being dragged back to Cazador.  

You would never see the sun again.  

You would probably never see her again.  

Suddenly feeling choked up, despite not really even needing to breathe, you pressed your lips against the small of her neck, pausing then landing a few more small, soft kisses along her shoulder. 

She stirred and rolled over onto her stomach, looking at you with a knowing smile through her mess of hair. 

Shit. 

“Oh... I thought you were asleep,” you said. 

“I know...” she replied, stretching lazily. “You only kiss me like that when you think I’m sleeping.” 

So many implications in that statement. Your mind immediately churned out a dozen ways to respond, deflecting, denying, joking or otherwise brushing it off. But you wanted to see where leaning into it might take you.  

“Do I..? Here, I’ll fix that.” 

You leaned toward her, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Just your lips brushing against hers, petal-soft. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure as you trailed your lips further along her skin, leaving featherlight kisses from the corner of her mouth further up the side of her face.  

You were careful to keep the kisses tender rather than sensual. Not something you were accustomed to, at all. She smiled and squirmed a little as your lips dipped below her jawline near her earlobe. 

“That tickles...” she murmured, making you chuckle.  

“My sweet girl,” you whispered, nuzzling her ear. 

Ugh, where in the hells did that come from..? you thought, startled. 

She noticed. Of course she noticed. 

She shifted onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow and resting her head on her hand.  

“Am I? Yours?” There it was again, that knowing, quizzical look.  

“Are you not?” you asked.  

“Hmm... How can I tell?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you flashed her a roguish grin, which she ignored. 

“Should it be? Is there something you’ve done to claim me as yours?” 

Her words might have stung, had her tone not been so playful rather than mocking. She was encouraging, not denying you.  

I don’t suppose she’s going to count all the unspeakable things we’ve done to each other. I guess I wouldn’t either. 

“Is that what you want me to do?” you asked, slowly tracing a finger down her arm.  

“That depends... Do you want me to be yours?” 

This conversation was idiotic. Why was it making you increasingly giddy? 

“Come now, we have been doing this for how long? Are we really going to be coy about whether or not we like each other?” you asked, trying to sound assured rather than flustered.  

She leaned forward, as if to reveal a secret for your ears only. 

“That’s not quite what we’re being coy about, now is it?” she whispered, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips.  

You were completely out of your depth in this kind of flirting, if one could call it that. Concentrating on the physical and sexual, dropping innuendos, hinting at promises you had no intention of keeping, teasing, arousing, adding in just the right amount of vulgarity to otherwise honeyed words to make them blush and stammer in trepidation... That you could do all day as an afterthought, all while mulling over something you had read earlier, or otherwise being a thousand leagues away with your thoughts.  

But this... It was like she was playing with and delicately caressing your innermost, rawest feelings, all whilst inviting you to do the same with hers. Sex was barely even a consideration. This was an entirely different dance. And it was exhilarating. 

Before you could think of what to say, she moved on. 

“You know, Lae’zel propositioned me earlier,” she said, briefly burying her face in her hands and shaking her head with a quiet, incredulous laugh.  

“She did what? ...And how did that go?” 

“It was very... Lae’zel. I wasn’t sure whether she was offering to kill me or fuck me at first. I had to politely decline.” 

“And you didn’t tell me?” you frowned. 

“Should I have?” She studied you with a curious look, resting her chin on her hands. “How would it make you feel? If I accepted her offer?”  

Like the whole world was pulled out from beneath my feet. Again. 

“You and Lae’zel? Hmm. Sounds like something I’d pay to watch.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Her eyes seemed to be piercing straight into your soul. You had to quickly do a double-take on whether your tadpole might have been betraying anything to hers, before rebuking yourself. She wouldn’t pry like that.  

Your eyes roamed around the tent as you tried to assemble some words that weren’t too far from or too close to the truth. 

“Lae’zel is... exotic. Far be it for me to stand between anyone and such an... ‘outlandish’ experience. But I would prefer to have you all to myself, if it’s all the same to you. I don’t devote all that time to making sure that pretty head of yours stays on your shoulders just to have Lae’zel decapitate you in her throes of passion.” 

“That’s still not what I asked, but I’ll let it slide,” she rolled her eyes. “Getting a straight answer from you is like trying to seduce a blushing maiden.” 

“A riveting challenge?” 

“A tiresome one. That’s most likely not worth the effort.” 

How many blushing maidens have you seduced?   

“Alright, fine, I admit I might be a bit jealous. ...On top of being concerned for your wellbeing, darling.” 

“Just a bit jealous?” she teased. 

“Matters of honour would demand that I challenge her to a duel,” you sighed. 

“You have no honour. And she would crush you.” 

“I know. But I would die a hero’s death. Songs about me would live through the ages. ...You might need to write them for me.” 

“Sure, right after I wrote songs about how I conquered a githyanki,” she snorted. “Or perhaps songs about being conquered by one myself? I could spin it either way. Which do you think would stir more loins?” 

“I don’t know and my own loins are taking no part of this. Now are you going to keep talking nonsense, or will you go back to sleep already?” 

“Why, so you can sneak more tender little kisses on me?” she laughed. 

You didn't really want her to fall back asleep. Talking with her kept your darker thoughts at bay. What you did want, was to feel her wrapped around you again. 

“You know what? If you’re not going to sleep, you may as well carry on with your business, and I’ll meditate sitting up for a change.”  

You snatched the blanket from her, making her exclaim a sharp “Hey!” as the cold mountain air touched her bare skin, and wrapped it around yourself, settling in a cross-legged position. Moments later, she was on your lap, facing you with her legs wrapped around your hips. Just as you anticipated. You smirked and accepted her in your blanket cocoon, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her close as you kissed her. 

“So, my blushing maiden,” she said as she leaned away from you, slightly, stretching her arms around your neck and resting her forearms on your shoulders. “It seems I have you backed up against a wall. I won’t force you – do what you will with your virtue. But you must decide. Will you give in willingly? Or deny me, and spend the rest of your life wondering: what if?” She leaned in to whisper the last two words dramatically. “I will ask you again: do you want me to be yours?” 

You wondered if she had any idea how apt that comparison really was to how you felt. 

Or how eerily similar it was to some of the tactics you yourself employed when luring in your victims. Hells, even the words were almost identical to some of the ones you’ve used. To make them surrender with reckless abandon, throwing all caution to the wind, blinded by your promises. Cattle rushing happily to the slaughter. 

You knew all this. You’d seen it countless times. But just then, you also saw there was no malice in her eyes. Only something like hope that she was trying to mask with mischief.  

Wherever she was leading you, you wanted to follow.  

“Fine,” you said softly, looking into her eyes. “I do want you to be mine. And no, I don’t want to share you with anyone.” You felt oddly elated as the words left your mouth. “I’d feel compelled to dismember any hand that touched you, so to give me a fair chance at survival, could you stay away from Lae’zel? Please?” 

She grinned and grasped your face in her hands, pressing her lips against yours. 

“Good girl,” she purred, still grinning, earning herself a sharp pinch on her bottom, making her jolt before she continued. “This leads me to my next question: do you want to be mine?” 

There it was. The trap beyond the lure. You saw it clear as day. And still, you wanted to follow her. 

“Darling, after the past 200 years, I’m really not disposed to letting anyone else claim ownership of me”. You watched her smile falter, and you hurriedly continued before it turned to sadness or disappointment, or worse, pity, and spread to her eyes. “But I just might make an exception for you… If the offer is mutual.” You took one of her hands in yours. “So, are you? Mine?” you asked, placing a kiss on her knuckles.  

Who’s backed against a wall now? 

"Of course I am. As if you even needed to ask.” She touched her forehead against yours before placing another kiss on your lips. Did she have to sound so triumphant saying that? “I am yours and no one else’s. Now you say it.”  

Ah, still me. 

Still, you fought hard not to laugh as a feeling of relief spread warmly throughout your body. You hadn’t even noticed how tense you were. 

“Alright, alright...” You cleared your throat and held a dramatic pause before continuing. “You are mine and no one else’s.” 

She let out an exasperated growl and grabbed and twisted one of your nipples. You chortled even as you yelped, grabbing the offending hand and holding it behind her back. She immediately made another attempt with her other hand, which you also successfully intercepted, now holding both her arms behind her. Refusing to give up, she went for your shoulder with her teeth, with a maniacal giggle, as you laughed and tried to fend her off with your chin.  

“Yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, you feral wildcat! I’m yours... Only yours.” you declared hastily into her hair somewhere near her ear, as she calmed down. “I mean it. Now behave! I always ask before I bite, don’t I?” you said, releasing her arms. 

She attempted to glare at you, her eyes narrowed, but couldn’t keep her face straight and broke into a grin again.  

“Well... Look at us...” she drawled, placing her arms back onto your shoulders. “Snatched up onto the nautiloid with nothing but the clothes on our backs, and now we’ve each got a whole other person.” 

She looked so pleased and happy... Why..? This couldn’t last. No matter how much you wanted it to. …Could it..?  

You were falling, deeper and deeper. 

My love... My sweet, sweet love... Where are you taking me? 

~~~~~ 

Next in series - Gentle warding bond

Want more of these two? There’s more. Series master list. 

AO3

[demonsword586]

Horn grinding headcanons! Gehenna

(I apoligise but I been having THOUGHTS...and I wanted to make something like a list of all devils and how their horns would feel for grinding,starting of with Gehenna devils.)

Sitri

-first things first,the ~ shape would probably feel like a bulge

-it's also quite decent in size and he only has one horn,which is actually an advantage,since you might have a hard time finding a comfy position with a devil who has more than one

-also if you put his head between your thighs,you can pull on his ponytail

-his head probably smells like tea,so bonus points for that

Satan

-Yes

-very big,they're also in a very nice position

-also very smooth,so it may will be easier to glide against them when they're wet from cum/milk/any other liquid

-the only downside is that he would act like a brat and bite your legs or move his head away when you're close

-so kindly slap him and hold him by the tip of his horns or tug on his hair,he will enjoy it

Paimon

-okay it would be a struggle to get the position right.

-won't let you grind on them until he takes those stickers off OR will do his best to make you release a lot of juices(finger you,edge you,bite your thighs) so the stickers have more of your scent and he will keep them for years

-his horns are actually quite thin and the distance between them...like I said,this is a tough cookie to grind on,penetration might be better

-also he may prick or bite you on purpose to draw out your blood

Leraye

-okay for humping,the unicorn shape might be the safest and most straight forward one.

-this one even has a golden retriver attached to it

-absolute obedience! You tell him 'stay',he stays still...but when he's close,he may not be able to hold back much longer and will hump his head against you instead

-will keep the teddy bear on,either to make you more comfy or to get your scent on it

Zagan

-(omg bunny ears!)

-ngl that shape...would be perfect for a vibrator

- his horns have so much girth and lenght that all of your privates would be covered

-also that long,jankable hair...just imagine grinding on those cute horns and all of the sudden jank his head back,he may even let out a few moans!

-actaully since he has so much stamina he may be open to turning into a vibrator for you

-either way he will do all the work,to please his partner

Belial

-hmm...I don't want to be rude but...those are not grindable..kinda small

-if you somehow grind on those,applause to you

-but those are made for penetration...

-thankfully these average horns,have a masterfull tongue below them(really this man can write with his tongue,imagine what godly oral he could do)

-so you can get oral and horn penetration at the same time! (Imagine him sucking your clit/cock while he fucks you with his horn)

Astaroth

-okay at first nothing special,looks like he broke his horns...he turns around and DAMN! This man has a fucking grinding machine!

-The girth! The lenght! The position!

-I'm sorry but...his horns are laid flat against the back of his head,which is perfect for sitting down,not only that but his long ass hair is also there. Imagine how it would feel to sit down on this beast while his hairl tickle your legs

-the horns are pretty decent size and girth

-Oh! The bumps! Those are the cherry on top! I...it would feel amazing,that's all I can say

-the only downside is that he would probablly suffocate

[kiwiana-writes]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks to @wordsofhoneydew and @onthewaytosomewhere for the tags! I was actually going to share something from a different fic tonight, but then a friend got a shitty transphobic comment, and... well. Much like my dearly beloved Alex Claremont-Diaz, I fucking love doing things out of spite, so here's a little more of the trans!Alex FTH fic instead. I'm a very firm believer in 'don't like don't read', but I'm also a very firm believer in doing that without making your dislike the author's problem. This fandom is literally drowning in fic right now; y'all have seen the wordcounts I read and even I can't keep up. Hit that back button and find something you do want to read instead. And for the record, bigotry can and should be made actively unwelcome.

Alex grins, running his fingers through Henry’s hair as Henry looks up at him, lips parted and gaze hungry. “It was the one downside to top surgery—I hated my tits, but my nipples were so fucking sensitive. Now they’re like… I mean, I can still feel them, but I don’t think I could come just from having them played with anymore.” “Hmm.” There’s something in Henry’s expression that feels a little like a challenge, but he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he presses his thumbs into the divots at Alex’s hips, drags his lips down Alex’s torso with single-minded determination. His tongue dips briefly into Alex’s navel before dragging down his happy trail, stopping just above the scar above his pubic bone as Alex groans, hands tightening in Henry’s hair. “Christ, look at you—can I suck your cock?”

Tagging @affectionatelyrs @agame-writes @anincompletelist @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @piratefalls @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[clownprincehoeshi]

Parallel Hearts - Chapter 4

Synopsis: Never in your wildest dreams you imagined that you’ll meet your ult bias. Maybe you finally have your shot at love and happiness. Or not.

Genre: for all chapters- Fluff, Smut, Angst

Pairing: fem reader x idol Jungkook fem reader x idol Mingyu fem reader x idol Hoshi

Warnings: Kissing-Nudity-Sex 18+-Harrassment-Stalking-Death mentions-Cheating

Word count: 6401

Don't know how this chapter got so long. By my calculations, all chapters combined will go somehwere between 40k and 50k. Depends how much the plot thickens. Happy reading!

Previous chapter - Next chapter

Masterlist

This is a feeling you know too well. You’ve been here before and you hate it. You hate how all you think about it’s him, how you can barely sleep or eat, how you cry so much. You hate you’re so far from home and you can’t have your besties to keep you company and give you warm hugs. They know you the best.

Of course Hana has become your good friend, but can’t compare a friendship of 15 years with one of 1 year. Though, you feel you can trust her, you were always lucky with picking your friend. Apparently, you’re not as good at picking men.

Hana has been sleeping at your place since the breakup, 3 weeks ago. She’s going to be visiting her parents in Busan this weekend though, and you’re afraid you might have nightmares again. It’s something that happens whenever you’re really sad.

But you’re making progress. You can finally eat almost normally, you went back to the gym, but you can’t yet listen to music. You feel like music reminds you of him and you are not ready yet for it. Sleep is still a problem for you, as you need to know that someone is there for you, in your house. Breakups have always left a hole in your heart, a loneliness you can’t express. So you need company. You feel like a lost puppy.

You told Hana that you’ll feel extra lonely this weekend since she’s not going to be there and she said not to worry, because she’ll send one of your friends to keep you company. She didn’t say who, she said she wasn’t sure which one will be in town and have some free time.

So you waited all day on Saturday for your mystery friend to arrive. You even baked and bought some of that good meat to grill later, as a sign of gratitude. You hear knocking on the door and you go to open it.

Y/N: Mingyyyuuu!

You are so happy to see him, that you jump right at him for a tight hug.

Mingyu: I had no idea you missed me so much.

You invite him in and you feel relieved that it’s him and not someone else. The only downside is that he reminds you of him, as they are such close friends. He’s hoping to find out more from you, and maybe get you to open up. He wants to be there for you and help you get over this dark period you’re having.

Y/N: Tell me what you need. I even got meat and we can cook. You’re thirsty, hungry?

Mingyu: I feel like we could use some drinks before anything.

Y/N: Yesss, please!

You get some soju out and you try to not abuse alcohol right now, you tend to speak too much when you’re drunk. And you get to become too direct and honest. You both sit on the couch that’s facing your big living room windows, revealing the city.

Y/N: Maaan, I love to sit here for hours and look out the window. But I hate that winters here are cold as fuck. And I’m not sure yet if I like snow or if I hate it.

After some time of silence from Mingyu, and a couple of glasses, he finally got the courage to say something.

Mingyu: Y/N?

Y/N: Hmm?

Mingyu: I want you to know that I had no idea he didn’t tell you he will leave now. Even if I knew, I don’t think it was my place to let you know. And I hate that he acted like this and that he hurt you. I tried to talk to him about it and he just blew off, saying some stupid shit.

Y/N: What he did say? Because all he said to me was that he was sorry, on the day he enlisted. That was some lousy text. I blocked him after that.

Mingyu: He said “Why aren’t you happy now? You can finally have her”.

Y/N: What a stupid thing to say to his best friend. Where did that come from, why is he acting jealous since he never gave a shit about me?

Mingyu: Well I think he was always jealous, just not letting it show. Thing is this kind of affected our friendship. I mean, I was the first person to tell him to go for you, to confess. And for him to act like I was trying to make a move on you was pretty shitty.

Y/N: So let him believe that. Hope he can’t sleep well at night, thinking his ex and his bestie are fucking.

Mingyu: Whoaah, language!

He looks at you and asks how many glasses you had. You lift 4 fingers but you say two.

Mingyu: That’s it, no more soju for you, princess!

Y/N: I’m not a princess, look how I dress. Like a homeless dude.

He comes to hug you, patting your head.

Mingyu: You’re my homeless dude, then. Now let me be your chef for today, I’ll make you something really delicious.

And you let him cook. Not that you’re lazy, but you’re a little drunk and you don’t want to mess up. You’re feeling too good now, and you put some music on. You think some D’Angelo fits with today. You even forget you we’re not able to listen any music since the breakup.

Alcohol takes away your shyness and it’s like you’re another person, but you just think it brings the real you, fun, funny, silly, bright, friendly and chatty. Mingyu just giggles every time you’re like this, because he says it makes him happy when you’re happy.

He wonders if it’s a mistake that he came to keep you company today. And while he was having that thought and also moving around your kitchen, he felt you body brushing his. He froze and looked at you. You were just minding your business, looking for plates to set the table. The space between your counters and the kitchen island was not very generous, bot in your drunken state, you didn’t realize that.

He kept looking at you and felt his cheeks heating up. As your body brushed his, your hand also brushed his abs. It sent electric shocks through his body. He always had a thing for you, we can call it a crush. He gave up on you, as you were into his friend, so he kept these feelings closed. But what just happened now, woke a tiny little thought in his mind. What if…?

A voice brought him back to reality and a pair of big bright eyes looking up at him. Damn, you looked adorable.

Y/N: Gyyyyuuu! How many times do I have to call for you? You’re ghosting me right in my face.

Mingyu: Sorry, what does my princess want?

You look at him angrily and mumble something only for you to hear. Sheesh, such a tall and handsome dummy.

Y/N: Nevermind!

Food is ready, he made the grill and rice and you made salad. He knew that if you eat and drink lots of water, the alcohol will not have such a strong effect on you, and he was right. But he kept on drinking, he has a big tolerance. After dinner, you both took a shower. Separately. You went to you bedroom and he took the couch. Was a pretty big couch, he felt comfortable.

It was easy for you to drift to sleep after all that alcohol and food. And after that hot shower. But in the middle of the night you woke up scared and sweaty after a bad dream. Someone or something was chasing you in your dream.

You remembered Mingyu was there and you got out of bed to go check if he was maybe awake, to…talk to you, make you forget about the nightmare and the stupid mood it put you in. But he was sleeping. You got down on your knees, close to him and waited a little. In your sleepy state you thought that maybe if you stare enough, he’ll wake up and just guess what was going on in your head.

You whispered his name slowly but nothing. You pouted and got up to go back to bed. As you were getting up, you felt a grip on your wrist. He was awake. Why didn’t he say something? He pulled you down and you lost your balance and fell right on top of him.

Mingyu: What’s wrong, princess? Came  for cuddles?

Y/N: Uuummm I had a bad dream.

Mingyu: That’s why you’re on top of me in the middle of the night?

Y/N: You pulled me.

Mingyu: Not that hard.

Y/N: I tripped.

Mingyu: On purpose?

You whined, trying to get up, but he didn’t let you.

Mingyu: Stay here now, you said you had a bad dream. I’ll protect you, that’s why I’m here.

Y/N: Gyu..we shouldn’t. This isn’t..

Mingyu: Right? Why isn’t it right? You’re a free woman now, nothing wrong with us sleeping in the same bed, or couch. You’re still thinking about that jerk?

You drop your face into his chest, feeling stupid.

Mingyu: Darling, don’t feel bad, ok? He was stupid and now he’s gone. There are so many other guys that would be sooo happy to be with you.

You tried to speak into his chest but he didn’t understand any word. He just stroked your head and told you that you can use him as a pillow, or as anything you wanted. You were quiet and you stayed there. It felt nice. Warm and fuzzy. So you fell asleep in his arms and he was a happy man that night.

You only had Mingyu sleeping at your place one more time, but Hana was there too. It was after a little get together of the 97 crew. It’s been 2 months after the breakup and you felt good now. Crying had stopped, nightmares had stopped, and you didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Also, since you and Mingyu were closer now, you started to get into his group. It was like a ray of sunshine watching them do silly stuff on their shows and interviews. Reminded you of when you first got into kpop. Mingyu was very busy lately with Seventeen, preparing for a comeback, but he never forgot to check up on you and call you every other day.

You knew Mingyu was a ladies man and that he always had flings and affairs, mostly with female idols, actresses, models or just women that were famous. He would tell you about them sometimes and ask for advice. It seemed that he would never settle thought, like he was bored right away and was looking for something, but even he didn’t know what that something was.

You were at work one day and you had a meeting with your boss and teams about a new project you will work on. You were the team’s artist, you were skilled with your hands and very talented. You used to paint with Jungkook when you were together and you hated that every time you were drawing for work it reminded you of him. At least you’re not crying now, tight? Those days are over.

So this new project was for Hybe. Ugh! Will this man hunt you forever? You had to work with Seventeen’s team for their new promotion and when you heard you were a bit excited. Ok, maybe a lot excited, because you pretty much became a fan of them. This meant that you might be ending up meeting them, or at least some of them.

For the next few weeks, each member would come to your agency and have individual or group  shootings, and you had to be there for everything. Who was your bias? You thought it was Mingyu, obviously, but other than him, don’t ask. It’s impossible when there are so many of them and all so interesting in their own way.

Today’s shooting was for Hoshi, he was he 7th member you’ll be meeting. You got a little late at the office that day, so you were running in your heels like a crazy dude, carrying all these papers and drawings. Then, the next second you were on the floor, all your shit flying every where. You look at your skirt. Kimchy all over it. Your head hurt.

Guy: Omg, I’m so sorry, I was not looking, I had my face into my bowl.

He got up to help you. You were about to unleash the fire of hell on this guy, until you saw his face.

Y/N: Oh! It’s fine, it happens. It’s my fault too, for being late and running. I’m here for your shooting, anyway, I’m in charge of the set.

Hoshi: I’m Hoshi, it’s nice meeting you and again, I am sorry. Let me gather your stuff and help you clean your skirt.

Y/N: No no no no, it’s ok, really. I always keep extra clothes in my office just in case, I’ll change.

Hoshi: I feel so bad, not sure that spot will come off, I should know.

He pouts and you think it’s the most adorable thing ever.

Y/N: Btw, I am Y/N and a friend of Mingyu.

He looked a little stunned at your words and he became very defensive.

Hoshi: Oh, you’re that Y/N. Ok, then I should go back to the shooting, they expecting me.

And like that, he just ran away, he let you stand there with your extended hand, waiting for him to shake it. What a weird guy. But why did he say it like that? “that Y/N”. You decide to ask Mingyu about this tonight.

The shoot went smoothly, Hoshi was a natural and he is very photogenic. Though he kept giving you weird looks, almost mean and you felt like you did something but had no idea what it was.

Back home that night, you text Mingyu and tell him to call you when he’s free. He calls you in 2 hours after he gets home.

Mingyu: Y/N, hey! What are you up to? Missed me?

Y/N: Of course, why not.

And you start laughing by yourself, very proud of your joke. But he doesn’t flinch.

Mingyu: Ugh, please. Since you started watching Going Seventeen you’ve gotten insane.

Y/N: Come on, it’s cute when you say it.

Mingyu: Ok, going to hang up.

Y/N: Nooo, pleaseee Gyu! I’m sorry, I’m sorryyyy!

Mingyu: I like when you beg. Go on..

Y/N: Shut up, perv! I have a curiosity. Today I met your buddy, Hoshi and he was very awkward around me after he found out who I was. He said “oh, you’re THAT Y/N”. Spill!

Mingyu: Hmm, I have no idea. I mean, some of the guys know about you, that we’re friends, but that’s it.

Y/N: Hmm, I think it’s weird and there’s something more there. Maybe you don’t know either or you don’t want to tell me. Which is fine, I will find out on my own, I’m a good detective.

Mingyu bursts laughing. You end the call 30 minutes later and you keep thinking about that encounter with Hoshi all night.

It’s time for vacation, you and Hana got a week off work because you want to attend some concert Mingyu invited you both to. Seventeen is going to perform in Thailand and you always wanted to go there, so it’s the perfect opportunity. They will have 3 concerts there and you decided to go to one only, because you needed time to do tourist shit with Hana.

You tried to bring only your best clothes and accessories, because you knew you’ll see the guys again and you wanted to make a good impression. Plus, Hana didn’t let you bring any of your homeless stuff. You were a little pouty about that, but you’ll listen to her THIS time, because it was vacay time.

You did a lot of shopping there, spent a lot of time at the beach and trying out local food. Took tons of pictures, you wanted to post on your socials so that Jungkook will see you’re happy without him too. You didn’t know how he would see, you just liked to think he will.

You always get a nice golden tan in the summer and it somehow makes you look prettier, everyone tells you that it suits you. Hana insisted that you attend soudcheck too, not just the actual concert, claiming that’s where to fun is. Oh well, you went anyway and made sure to look your best. So you got the “girls” out, wearing a deep cut top, let your long hair flow over your back.

Y/N: Wifeu, quick answer. Should I wear something to show off my legs or my ass?

Hana: Uff, hard one. How about both?

Y/N: Nahh, too slutty for a concert.

Hana: Girl, you need to get laid again in this life.

Y/N: Legs or ass?

Hana: Damn, let’s have a little meeting about this. It’s important. So we’re going to dinner with some of the guys after the concert. What’s the first thing they will notice when they see you?

Y/N: Boos, of course.

Hana: Yes. But after that? I think they will notice the legs, since you’ll be facing them.

Y/N: Ok, so legs it is.

Hana: Unless……there will be times when we will be walking, turning, moving and stuff. And there will be people behind you, and if you wear tights pants, they’ll die.

Y/N: Come ooon, make up your mind woman!

Hana: Oh, ok. Legs. I think.

So you wore a short skirt that matched you top. Your top had a tiger print, it was just a coincidence, but Hana thought you were wearing it for a certain someone.

You were in the crowd, front seats, excited to see Mingyu and give him funny looks. When the guys came up the stage, the crowd went crazy. You could understand, these boys were breathtakingly handsome and pretty. What’s the deal with this Jeonghan guy, you think. Where does he have this audacity to look so beautiful?

Well your friend Mingyu was beautiful too, you knew that, you were not blind. Everyone knew that. And he had this stupid look on his face the entire soundcheck. He kept looking at where you two were standing. He looked…pretty hot, you have to admit. Even Hana said so.

And when the wind blew over his t shirt and shorts, it kind of…made you feel something. Were you too vacation drunk? You know you get hornier when you travel, so you blamed it on that.

The concert was so fun, you danced, singed, waved at them. Some of them recognized you from the shoots they had at your agency and they waved back. You found it funny to catch Hoshi throw some looks your way, but he was not smiling or anything, just serious looks. What’s wrong with this guy?

You knew it’s going to be a process to get out of the stadium when the concert is over, it was really crowded and you were right next to the stage, so you had to wait a lot for the people in the back to get out. Because of this, you and Hana arrived at the dinner place after the guys got there.

You went to the rooftop to find Mingyu, DK, Wonwoo, Hoshi, Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun and Minghao. You needed a drink, you were too nervous. Your hands were shaking as the guys stood up to shake your hands and introduce themselves once again. They all remembered you, except DK. And of course you knew Wonwoo pretty well.

The whole night you felt eyes on you. You still didn’t shy away to eat like you like to eat and Mingyu always praises you for this, telling you that you eat well. Whatever that means. Some of the guys asked you a bunch of questions, Hoshi was the only one to not engage with you.

Jeonghan even asked if you wore that tiger print top because Hoshi was your bias. Made you blush at the remark but you said you have no bias and that you don’t want to betray your friend Mingyu by having one.

DK: I can be your bias, I’ll deal with Mingoo, don’t worry.

Jeonghan: Yeah, he’s big but he’s not dangerous.

Y/N: Hey guys, don’t be mean with my Mingoo. I know you bully him a lot.

And you pout and put your hand over Mingyu’s hand. He blushes at the touch and he pulls his hand right away, slapping yours in a playful way.

The food was delicious there and you even put a little alcohol in you, some champagne. The guys went a little crazy because it was their last concert there and the net day they would return to Seoul. You saw Hoshi had red cheeks, sign that he was drunk. After ONE glass, guys. ONE glass. But this made him a little friendlier.

It also made him clingy with his members as he kept on kissing their faces. You thought it was cute. You love men that are not afraid of showing affection to their friends. Since you also had a couple of drinks, you felt courageous enough to engage with Hoshi and maybe find out if you did something wrong, so you could fix it.

So you saw him taking some photos of the view and you walked towards him.

Y/N: Hi!

Hoshi: Hi.

Y/N: Can I ask you something?

Hoshi: I guess.

Y/N: Did I do something to you? Because I feel like you hate me or something. And maybe there is a misunderstanding. I don’t know. If I did something, I’m sorry and please let me know so I can fix it.

Hoshi: Why do you treat Mingyu like that?

Y/N: Like what?

Hoshi: Like he’s some fool that you can walk over.

Y/N: What?

He looks right into your eyes, rage inside them. You have no idea where this is coming from and you don’t know where to go from here. You just know there is a misunderstanding between you. You would be fuming right now if it were some guy and you would just walk away, but it’s Mingyu’s friend and you don’t want to start some drama.

Y/N: I assure you, I don’t treat him like that. And I can have this conversation in front of him, right now, if you’d like, so you can see that’s you’re having the wrong idea about me.

Hoshi: Hmm, yeah, I see it. The gaslighting. That’s how you do it.

And he just hisses and leaves you there. You’re dumbfounded, what was that. You’ll need to talk to Mingyu again, he will have to tell you this time. You’ll do that after you all get back to Seoul and he gets some free time in his hectic schedule.

It’s not like you care what people think of you, it doesn’t affect you. But why did Hoshi having a bad opinion about you affected you so much? He wasn’t someone close to you. Tonight, Mingyu, Eunwoo and Hana are coming to your place for dinner. You’ll be cooking for them this time.

You ate, had some shots, played some cards and when it was time for them to leave, you asked Mingyu to stay a little bit longer because you wanted to talk about something.

Mingyu: Ok, what is it?

Y/N: So your friend Hoshi hates me and I think someone told him something about me that was not true. I know you know something that you’re not telling me.

Mingyu: Y/N, there are some things that I can’t just tell you, but why he’s like that to you, I don’t know. All I can say is that me and him had some conversations about you, maybe he misunderstood something I’ve said? It’s possible.

Y/N: You ever told him anything about me and Jungkook?

Mingyu: No, nothing about him. But why do you care so much? Just let him be, not like you’re close.

Y/N: But I want your friends to like me.

Mingyu: Why?

Y/N: Just cuz. What’s it to you?

And you slap his arm hard, making him whine and calling you mean. You invited him to spend the night on your couch, since he had to drink, but he said he has a hot date and how he’s been seeing this new girl for a month. So he left, leaving you wondering even more about the things that he doesn’t tell you.

Spring has come. Your second favorite season. Your favorite is summer, because you’re a lizard that loves the heat. And you like spring because it’s finally getting warmer, the plants are coming back to life, and it’s your birthday season. It’s also Mingyu’s birthday season and he’s planning a party.

The venue is huge and it feels like the invited the whole kpop industry. He’s so popular, you think. Why didn’t you go for him, in stead of Jungkook? Really? Why? Oh, maybe because he’s kind of a…fuckboy?

You try to look like your sexiest self, but not too over the top. You remember what happened  the last time when you looked too sexy. Some guy confessed and you ended up with your heart broken. So no, this time, going easier on the sexiness, thank you.

All night, you tried to stay close to Hana, holding her hand or her dress. You didn’t know who most of those people were. Hana kept dragging you from corner to corner, because she was into a guy from a band, you can’t remember the name. You have trouble remembering names. You bumped into the other Seventeen members and greeted each other. Hoshi didn’t even look at you. Huh, what a douche.

Trying to stay sober tonight, you want to remember it, because so many celebrities were here. You saw some members of TXT, Enhypen, Le Seraffim, The Boyz, Ateez. Mingi was not there and Hana was hearbroken. You felt good close to your 97 gang, still holding Hana’s hand.

Mingyu comes to you guys and hugs all of you, thanking you that you came. He hugs you a little too long. He has a sad look on his face and you ask if something is wrong. He shaked his head, but with a pout and a sad look. You knew it was something. Then DK and Minghao come over to chat.

DK: Hey guy, what’s up? Shall we do some shots?

Mingyu: Yes, and nobody can say no.

You all do 2 rounds of shots. Then you see Minghao coming closer to you.

Minghao: How’s tonight treating you, you having fun at the party?

Y/N: Hmm, so and so. I’m not a social butterfly like Mingyu here, but at least I have my friends.

Minghao: You look gorgeous, I have to say. You have great taste.

DK: Hao, did you just tell her she tastes good? Wtf?

You and Minghao start laughing. DK could be such a clown sometimes. While you were laughing, Minghao was leaning a little towards you, touching your shoulder and Mingyu noticed that and slapped his hand off you. He made it look like it was in a funny way, but you felt that he was protective. But come on, Minghao? He’s the sweetest guy, don’t need protection from him.

The night was a success, even though Mingyu seemed to be really stressed out. But probably because he wanted all to turn out ok.

You were back at home, 3 AM, when your phones rings. It was Mingyu.

Y/N: Mingoo, birthday boy, what’s up?

Mingyu: Can I come up?

Y/N: You’re here?

Mingyu: Yeah.

Y/N: Come up.

Now you were worried. His voice seemed a bit off, different. When he enters your apartment, the first thing he does is to hug you tight and you hear him sobbing.

Y/N: Gyu, what happened?

Mingyu: She was supposed to come tonight but she just ghosted me.

Y/N: Who?

Mingyu: I was seeing a girl, Y/N. She broke up with me one my birthday, with a lousy text.

Y/N: Aww, come here.

You hugged him some more, kissing his head.

Y/N: Come on, let’s sit. You want water, food?

Mingyu: Water, please.

He gulps a whole glass of water and calms down. You had no idea he had a serious gf or that he had feeling for someone. He was always a mystery.

Y/N: Wanna talk about it?

Mingyu: Not right now. Can you cuddle me tonight, please?

He was looking so sweetly into your eyes that you couldn’t say no, it was your time to be there for him and you will do whatever he needs you to do.

You let him take a shower, made him a sandwich. You know he’s a big boy and needs to eat. Made him hot tea to help him sleep and put him into bed. You put a warm blanket over both of you and hold him close to you. Felt his breath on your neck and from time he would make out little cute noises. You could tell he was hurting.

You started stroking his hair slowly, telling him it will be ok and that you’re there for him.

Mingyu: Y/N?

Y/N: Yes, Gyu.

Mingyu: What if we…

Y/N: What

Mingyu: No, nevermind.

Y/N: I hate it when you do that. 

Mingyu: There is something I need to do.

Y/N: Ok, what is it?

Mingyu: Will you say yes?

Y/N: But I don’t know what it is.

Mingyu: Can’t you just…trust me?

Y/N: I do trust you.

Then he lifts his face from your shoulder and he is laying now on his side, facing you. He cups your face with one hand and brings his face close to yours, almost touching. Is he trying to kiss you? If he does, will you let him? He might be just drunk and will regret it tomorrow. And what about you? Do you want this? Thousand thoughts flooding your mind right now. If you’re being honest with yourself, you have thought about him that way.

You have looked at his lips one to many times and wondered how they feel like. Wondered how you’d feel under him, in his strong hands. You blamed it on the horniness and nothing else.

Your heart starts racing and when he puts his lips on your, you let him. You let him kiss you. And you like it, it feel right. But also wrong. But you know what? Get fucked, Jungkook, you deserve this. You deserve I make out with your friend.

He’s being so soft with you, so careful not to break you. Your lips open for his tongue to lick the inside of your mouth. You can feel heat raising inside you and you moan his name into his mouth. That was like a wakeupcall for him, because he stops and pulls away.

Mingyu: I’m sorry, shouldn’t have done that. I’ll go sleep on the couch.

And he leaves you in bed, alone and turned on. You were so turned on that you didn’t try to go after him, because you needed release right then and there. So you took matters into your hands, while thinking about Mingyu and what would he do to you. While you rubbed your clit slow, you imagined he was eating you out, pushing his fat fingers inside your soaked pussy. You could feel wetting the bed, you were that wet. You tried to fuck yourself with your fingers, but after a few minutes, you felt it was not enough. Damn you, Kim Mingyu! You needed him. Wanted him. You needed him to be inside you, fucking into you hard.

You got out of bed, took your clothes off and decided to go to him and just hope he won’t push you away again. If he kissed you, then he wanted this too, but he needed to know now that you wanted it also. So you went into the living room and you laid your naked self under his blanket, next to him.

He didn’t wait, he didn’t say anything, didn’t hesitate. He just took you right then. He felt like fire all over your body. His kisses so passionate, his lips all over your body. Licking your ear, your neck, whispering filthy things into your ears. His hands roaming all over you, squeezing your breasts, licking them with hunger and sucking on them. You started to pull him into you, wrapping your legs over his waist.

His cock felt so hard and big under his pants, rubbing on your naked pussy. You needed him so bad.

Mingyu: God, I’ve been wanting to have you like this since forever.

Y/N: Touch me, Gyu. Please!

Mingyu: I want to taste you so bad, baby. Want to taste your pussy and feel it cumming around my tongue.

Y/N: Fuck! Do whatever you want to me

His mouth traced lower, to your tummy, leaving open mouth kisses, to your hips and finally to your pussy. Licking your folds and feeling how wet you were for him. Teasing your poor clit that needed attention and release so bad.

Mingyu: You’re so wet for me, fuck! You’ll feel so good around my cock, princess

He started to lap at your clit fast, pushing a finger inside you. He felt you were so tight around one finger, he needed to prep you more for his cock. A second finger goes inside and you clench so hard around them.

Mingyu: Right there, baby? Gong to cum on my fingers like this?

Y/N: Yess, don’t stop. Please, Gyu!

And you came so hard that you were seeing stars. You pulled him by the shirt up to your face and tried to get him naked. You wanted to see him naked so bad, to run your hands all over his sculpted body.

Y/N: You feel so good naked, rubbing on me! I need you, Gyu

Mingyu: Tell me how you want me, baby

Y/N: I want you to fuck me hard, want you inside me. Ruin me!

Mingyu puts one hand around your throat, squeezing slow and getting tighter by the minute. Starts to kiss you hungrily. The other hand he used to hold your waist down. Then he begins to push into you and you can’t control your moans.

He thinks you sound so filthy right now and he loves it, wants to make you moan louder. Wants to know he’s making you feel that good.

Y/N: Oh god, Gyu! You feel so good, fuck! You feel so fucking big

Mingyu: You’re taking my cock so good, baby. So tight and wet for me. Wanna make you cum all night

You loved that he was so vocal and so rough but at the same time gentle.

Y/N: I feel so full. Please

Mingyu: You looks so beautiful right now. On my cock, while I split you open

Mingyu: Want me to fuck you dumb, princess? Need me to make you forget about all the other cocks you had?

Y/N: Yesss, fuck!!! I’m coming

He feels you clench around his cock so tight that he can’t stop his own orgasm,  releasing inside you deep and hard

Y/N: Shit! Fill me up, Gyu? Fill this pussy deep

You couldn’t believe what was coming out of your mouth. You felt like such a slut and you loved it. And he didn’t stop, he kept going with the thrusting. And you felt like the orgasms kept of coming. You were lucky that you could have multiple orgasms, sometimes they would not stop for minutes, and you had to take a break.

You kept on fucking for the next hour. You came multiple times and he came two more times inside you. He loved fucking his cum back into you. After this you two stopped and laid next to each other, sweaty and out of breath.

Y/N: Gyu?

Mingyu: You wanna go again?

Y/N: I want to suck you off

Mingyu: Shit, do whatever you want, baby

You went down, tracing wet spots with your tongue all over his body. He was putty under you and moaned so loud when you put his still hard cock in your mouth. You couldn’t take it all, it was too big, long and fat. You’re sure you’ll be sore for days after tonight.

Y/N: Want to cum in my mouth too, baby?

Mingyu: Fuck I want it so bad!

You keep on pumping his cock into your mouth, moving your mouth fast over his length. Moaning into his cock, sending vibrations throughout his whole body.

Mingyu: I’m going crazy here. You’re going to make me cum so hard

And he spills his seed down your throat, pulling your hair, arching his back off the bed and moaning so pretty. He looked fucking gorgeous when he came.

After you both settle down, breathing back to normal, you decide it’s time to clean up and you take a long hot shower. The sheets on the couch are ruined, so you sleep on your bed.

Y/N: Gyu?

Mingyu: Yes, princess

Y/N: What does this mean for us now? Will this ruin our friendship?

Mingyu: I have a confession. I’ve been in love with you since we met and I’ll be damned if I let you get away again. You’re finally mine now, if you want to be mine

Y/N: I do, Gyu, I do want that

You were not sure what you felt for him, but you knew he made you feel safe, he treated you good and made you cum 1000 times. Are you in love? What if his e comes back? He just cried for her a few hours ago, there must be some feelings there. You had so many questions and it was making it hard for you to know how you felt for him. Because he felt like he was surrounded by fog and you needed to fight it and make it go away with great effort. You knew he was a complicated man and you only hoped this will not break you again.

He didn’t let go of you the whole night and you thought you’ll never meet a more clingier man. In return, you showered him with kisses because he was just sweet like that.

[edosianorchids901]

A Spring of Love

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "celebratory hug"

“Ooh, did you see the butterflies?”

“Yup,” Crowley said without looking up from his trimming. He’d seen plenty of butterflies already. “They were mobbing me while I was planting flowers yesterday.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Aziraphale said in his dreamiest tone. “I should like to be mobbed by butterflies.”

Crowley snorted and trimmed another scraggly branch off the bush. “No, you really wouldn’t. It was like something out of a horror film.”

“Crowley, you old silly. Butterflies aren’t horrifying.”

“They are when they cover your face so thoroughly that you can’t bloody see.” After a wary glance around for more butterflies, Crowley moved back and studied the bush. He clipped one more bit for symmetry’s sake, then grabbed his cane and hauled himself upright. His hips screamed in protest about the time spent on the ground today, but it had been worth it. “Now, we gotta make sure we really tackle the horror show of weeds. I can’t believe the state of this garden.”

He headed for one of the flowerbeds, but Aziraphale caught his arm. “My dear, we’ve been working for hours, and it’s awfully warm today. Let’s go to the shade for a bit.”

“Nnnnh.” Biting his lip, Crowley cast a longing look at the tangled mat of weeds. “But I gotta make progress.”

“You have in fact made plenty of progress.” Aziraphale tugged on his arm again, not quite hard enough to pull him completely off balance. “And you can make more after a break. But really, my dear. Can’t we enjoy our new garden?”

“I am enjoying it,” Crowley said stubbornly, lodging his cane on the edge of a stepping stone so Aziraphale couldn’t budge him. “I’m enjoying fixing the damn thing.”

“Well, perhaps you could take a break from that and enjoy simply looking at it for a bit, with me?” Aziraphale put on the big pleading eyes and pouted a little. “We’ve been working so hard on moving in and remodeling and ‘fixing’ the garden that we haven’t had any time at all to celebrate!”

Crowley hissed, and the pout intensified. Well. It looked like he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. “Okay. Fine. If you insist, you bastard.”

“I do,” Aziraphale said happily. He tugged on Crowley again, and this time Crowley yielded.

They retreated under the dappled shade of some really pitiful birch trees that Crowley was thinking of tearing out. Their new cottage was in a terrific location, no close neighbors at all, and right by some beautiful walking trails. It did have a downside, though—mostly, that it hadn’t been the slightest bit maintained for decades.

He raked a critical gaze across the garden, cataloguing everything that he still needed to do. Weeding for sure, plus more trimming of virtually every bush and tree. Should probably just rip out everything in the flowerbeds he hadn’t touched yet, honestly. They were a tangled mess, and he had so many transplants that he could definitely just—

“Crowley.”

“Hmm?” Crowley asked, mentally planting new flowers.

“You’re supposed to be enjoying looking at the garden with me, not plotting the demise of half the plants.” Aziraphale collided with his side in an enthusiastic hug, and Crowley steadied himself with his cane. “It’s celebration time.”

“Is it?” Crowley wrapped his free arm around Aziraphale, trying and failing to downshift his mind. “Thought we already had that last week when we did the whole toasting thingy. To our new home, so on and so forth?”

“Well, yes. But one hardly needs to be restrained to celebrating a momentous occasion once!” Expression warring between bliss and an attempt to keep pouting, Aziraphale squeezed Crowley tightly enough that his ribs ached. “We ought to celebrate all the time. Ooh, we could celebrate every week! Weekly anniversary of moving in.”

“Er. Normally, I’m all in favor of celebration.” Crowley struggled against a smile as Aziraphale kissed his shoulder. He turned to nuzzle into the light fluffy curls, unable to resist his angel’s affection. “But weekly anniversary celebrations seem a little bit excessive. Wouldn’t have any time to fix the place up if I was stopping all the time for drinks.”

Aziraphale kissed his shoulder again. “You stop all the time for drinks anyway. These would just be celebratory drinks, just as this is a celebratory hug.”

“Is it?” Crowley had almost gotten completely distracted from the garden, but a flash of color pulled his attention back. “Whoops. Looks like we’ve got a celebratory butterfly, too.”

“Oh, do we?” Aziraphale twisted to look, not letting go of Crowley. The butterfly hovered in front of them, and Aziraphale cooed at it. “Oh, how lovely. See, my dear? Nothing like out of a horror movie.”

Crowley smiled at Aziraphale’s petulant tone. Then he stopped smiling. “One might be innocent enough. But there’s not just one.”

A horde of butterflies descended, fluttering around them. Crowley hissed and shook his head in a vain attempt to dissuade them from landing on him. One perched on his nose.

“Ohhhh…” Aziraphale gave a delighted wiggle. “Isn’t that the most delightful thing? The butterflies love you, my dear!”

“Terrific. So, between you and the butterflies, I’m never gonna get anything done again.”

“Oh, don’t be so sulky.” Chuckling, Aziraphale rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder and watched the swarm of butterflies. “They just want you to enjoy the moment, as I do.”

Crowley briefly considered whacking the butterflies with his cane, and decided against it. He leaned into Aziraphale’s embrace and sighed. “Right, right. For now, you and the butterflies win.”

[haodore]

dads suck ; jm

𓂃 ⋆ 𓈒 masterlist

⌁ jj maybank x reader

⌁ hiding bruises and keeping secrets is something jj knows all too well, and he wants nothing but to bring you comfort. // angst, hurt/comfort, platonic.

⌁ 2.1k words

! : gender neutral r (they/them), overly strict parent, abuse, bruises, sad jj, jj and r #bonding el oh el, swearing, not set in any specific season/time, not really edited.

✐ in anticipation for outer banks 3, i did this really quick (it’s also my very first obx fic!!). the downside: i don’t remember a lot of the small details of this show and i’m not currently able to watch it yet, so if anything seems off, that’s probably why. also, hopefully i got jj’s characterization right??

Walking into your own home wasn't supposed to strike fear into your heart like a spreading disease, nor was it supposed to make your hands shake beyond your control, eyes darting around fearfully. It was supposed to be your safe place—your sanctuary.

The place where you were supposed to feel loved and cared for, brought you heartbreak and hurt. Any wrong move could lead to being hit or yelled at, and you hated it.

You didn't tell anyone about it, however. Instead using your smiles and laughter as a shield to keep everyone from being suspicious, fearing that maybe your Dad wasn't lying when he said if anyone hears about this, I'll make you regret it. Understand that?

You felt that same fear as you entered your house, stepping into the foyer. You had just gotten back from school, and the day had been rather uneventful as usual until something went wrong. You were a few minutes late to your third period class because your second period teacher asked you to help carry some textbooks to another classroom. It took longer than expected, however.

In the end, you weren’t even that late, you you shouldn’t have been surprised when your Dad was called about your brief absence to the class.

You wish you could say that it wouldn’t of been that big a deal, but you already know that your night was about to get a whole lot worse than the usual.

You froze in your steps, hearing your name being called from the kitchen. You couldn’t keep him waiting too long though, so your dragged yourself to the kitchen, eyes directed to the floor.

“Hi, Dad.”

Your Dad was doing the dishes, which was something that shocked you to your core. You felt rooted in place, watching as he placed a clean dinner plate onto the drying rack. It was such a simple, ordinary thing to most, but he always insisted that this was your job, along with many other chores. He’d pick out every little thing about it that you were doing wrong—even if you were doing nothing wrong at all—and he’d make you pay for it.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The nickname sent shivers down your spine. This doesn’t feel right. “How was school?”

You stayed standing where you were, shifting in place only slightly. “It was good.” You nodded. Your hands were behind your back, and you gripped them together tightly, praying that they would stop shaking.

“Really?”

You felt the pressure of the situation press down on your shoulders, threatening and hoping for your bones to crack under the intensity of it all. You nodded at him, with a light hum, not wanting your voice to waver if you spoke.

“Nothing too interesting happen today?”

You faintly shook your head.

“Well, maybe tomorrow might be more eventful, hmm?” He smiled, but it almost felt sinister. You knew it meant nothing good.

Your Dad continued to do the dishes, confusion slowly creeping up your spine. You didn’t understand.

When he reached over to put a clean cup on the rack, his hand was noticeably too far from the rack, but he let the glass fall from his fingertips anyway. You jumped slightly as the glass hit the ground, the clear shimmering glass shattering into pieces as it hit the ground. Your Dad tsked, sighing as he observed the mess he’d made with an unsettling glint in his eyes.

“Well,” he said, “looks like you’re gonna have to clean this up.”

You didn’t realize you’d frozen in place until he repeated himself louder. Like instinct, you started picking up the pieces of glass. He’d started telling you how this was all you fault that the cup broke, even though you both knew it couldn’t possibly be your fault.

“This is what you get for that call I got earlier today.”

You faltered for a moment, but kept picking up the glass.

“Are you ignoring me now?!”

You immediately shook your head, but he was having none of it. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you up to your feet. Your heart was in your throat as he pushed you against the counter with an angry glint in his eyes.

"After everything I've done for you, and you can't even manage to get to class on time?! You'll ruin my reputation!" He yelled at you. He raised a hand, slapping you across the face. "Ungrateful.” He seethed. He raised a hand to hit you again, and you tried to get away, but he was too strong, holding you in place. He hit you again. "Worthless." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up and throwing you onto the glass covered ground. You cried lout as you hit the floor, feeling a small piece of glass pierce your cheek where your head hit the ground.

This wasn't how it usually went. He was being worse than usual. Usually, he'd hit you in places it couldn't be seen, like your ribs. It was why you'd stick to one piece swim suits. He knew where he could hurt you without people noticing. You don't know why it's different this time—whether it was a bad day at work or lack of sleep—but he didn't seem to care about where he hurt you or who would see.

He looked down on you, clearly liking how much power he had over you. He then huffed, giving you a harsh kick to the ribs. You felt the air escape from your lungs as you wheezed out at the pain, and he walked off with a scoff.

You don’t know how long you stayed there on the floor, surrounded by a halo of broken glass, your ribs and face slowly turning red and purple from the hits. You stayed long enough that the house had gone completely silent—your Dad had left.

So, you shakily pushed yourself up, gripping onto the counter for balance. It took you what felt like an unbearable amount of time to get to the front door and out the house, and you couldn’t even describe how long the walk to the château felt. With how hard your head hit the floor, you were surprised you hadn’t collapsed yet.

You dropped yourself onto the bench on the porch of the château, not having the energy to go any further.

You heard a door open, and the sound of someone lightly cursing, then your name being called. Messy blonde hair came into your view, and blue sad eyes. He said your name again.

You groaned.

“What happened? Oh, my God, you— are you— fuck.” JJ picked you up, bringing you inside. He put you on the couch gently, rushing out of the room. You almost felt bad, really. You didn’t want to put all of this pressure on him, but you didn’t know where else to go.

You weren’t as close to the pogues as everyone else in the group was, because you were a bit newer to the group. You hung out with them all the time, but you didn’t feel like you were attached at the hip quite yet.

JJ returned only a few moments later with a first aid kit. You trusted him to do a good job, because you knew he’s handled things like this before. No one really told you about JJ’s home life, but it was no secret on the island of what kind of person Luke Maybank was. They saw the state he was in, and they’d see JJ walk around with bruises, and then people’d start talking. It was easy to figure out that JJ Maybank had a hard life.

You didn’t realize he’d started tending to your wounds until you felt a sharp pain in your cheek, and JJ pulled away the piece of glass. He apologized, clearly stressed and upset, and you felt guilty again.

“What happened?” His voice caught in his throat a little when he spoke. Just because you weren’t as close with him as the rest of them were with him doesn’t mean he didn’t care. You were best friends, and the lack of having years of memories didn’t change that. You had your entire life ahead of you to make some.

You found yourself unable to speak even though you wanted to, worrying again about your Dad somehow finding out. It pained you to admit the amount of control he had over you.

But you wanted to be helped. It was a desperate, aching feeling that you carried with you in every step. Every time you spoke, the words almost fell off your tongue but then you’d falter, saying something else with a smile that you weren’t so sure was real anymore. If there was anyone to speak to, and if there was any time to do it, it was to say it to JJ right now.

“It was…” you felt like the walls were caving in on you as you had a moment where you thought he wouldn’t even believe you. There were hardly any signs of anything happening in your home before, and your Dad always looked so polite and put together.

When JJ saw your hesitance, the words dying in your mouth, he felt his worry spike. He hoped his assumption was wrong.

“My, uhm…” you held back a cry from what had happened and from the pain of JJ cleaning your wounds, “my Dad.”

The secret was finally out and into the world, and you didn’t know how to feel. You were relieved, but for some reason you couldn’t get your hands to stop shaking.

“Fuck, I—“ JJ’s heart was in his throat as he continued to clean your wounds as gently as possible. He felt like a lit candle slowly slowly dying down at your revelation. You, who was always smiling and laughing; cracking jokes with the pogues like you’d known them for years; and giving out kindness like your life depended on it… you were more like JJ than he’d initially thought.

JJ didn’t know what to say, for a moment or two. He continued to aid you, chewing on his lower lip in thought. He’d always dealt with his pain with jokes, which he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate or not. Maybe you could use a laugh right now though.

“Dad’s suck, huh?”

In your haze of tears and hurt, a small and weak laugh bubbled from your chest. “Yeah, they do.”

With some of the tension lifted off your shoulders, the next short silence that followed wasn’t so bad, more so welcomed with the knowledge that JJ believed you, and he cared about you. He didn’t outright say it, but you knew it to be true.

When he zipped up the first aid kit, placing it on the table, he then turned to you. “This uh… this been going on long?” You knew serious conversations weren’t exactly his strong suit.

You only nodded in reply.

“You can tell us anything, you know? We’re pogues, man. Whether you like it or not we’re not leaving you behind. All right?”

You nodded again, this time letting a tear slip. You put your head down, wiping it away. JJ frowned when you muttered out an apology.

“Why are you sorry?”

“For being weak.”

JJ was getting déjà vu, watching the way you cried and apologized for it. He knew the feeling of feeling weak all too well. “Crying doesn’t make you any weaker, y’know.”

Your head snapped up as you were about to protest.

“It doesn’t.” He insisted, leaning forward to show how much he meant it. “If that’s something that your dad told you, than he’s wrong. He doesn’t know shit.” JJ felt his heart cracking at the sight of more tears pooling in your waterline. “The fact that you’ve put up with this so long on your own shows how strong you are, y’know that?… you don’t have to do it on your own anymore.”

Before you knew it his arms were wrapped around you, putting you close. You cried harder at the comfort, feeling warmth blossom on your chest.

Eventually you two pulled away, and he settled for resting a hand on your shoulder.

“My head hurts.” You said, holding a hand up to your temple while blinking tiredly.

“Did you hit it off something?”

You nodded. “The floor.”

JJ suppressed his anger, instead saying, “All right, you’ll have to rest later, in case you have a concussion.” The idea of not being able to close your eyes and sleep made you internally groan, but you knew he was right.

You were grateful that JJ was the one here. Even though you’d have to face your Dad again later, right now you were content with spending the night at the château with JJ, laughing a little brighter than before.

@ sakufilms

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 As Dawn Breaks: Chapter Twenty-Nine

As Dawn Breaks: Mother Night and Father Time, after having sired seven Endless to personify life in the known universe, create Earth and human life begins. One last Endless is created: Dawn, the personification of illumination and hope, the beginning of a new day and a chance for happiness and improvement. A love will span thousands of millennia, breaking with every sunrise and renewing hope come sunset. Yet, even the personification of hope can lose the very notion of her existence from the sting of a broken heart.

Warnings: Miscarriage Mentions, Explicit Language, Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No).

To Note: Dream/Morpheus x Endless!FemaleReader(Dawn), This Involves Themes That Are Not For Everyone. 

Word Count: ~2.1k

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“I do not feel glamorous or beautiful,” You huffed as you walked through the village market, your eyes glossing over the various goods for sale. Whoever said that pregnant woman glow obviously have never been pregnant themself because you felt so bloated and so disgusting at times you thought it a miracle that woman became pregnant on purpose. Matthew, who had been accompanying you when Morpheus couldn’t, let out a caw. 

“Oh yeah, when my wife was pregnant with our daughter she wouldn’t let me touch her period. Said it was my fault that she was like that… course she couldn’t keep her hands to herself the last trimester… but really, no one ever talks about the downsides to being pregnant.” Matthew chirped from your shoulder, ruffling his feathers. “But you do look put together, ma’am.”

You huffed once more. While you may look good, you felt bloated, waddled everywhere you went (and your belly wasn’t even that big yet), and you kept falling asleep in the oddest of places not to mention you were tired all the time. Were you not meant to be an Endless? Why did you have to be tired!? 

“Hmm, I currently feel like sitting down and falling asleep, that seem to be put together to you, Matthew?” 

“Seems like you’re doing exactly what you are currently doing, ma’am,” Matthew replied frankly. Your eyebrow twitched as you headed in the direction of the palace, a nice bath and nap sounded very nice at the moment and your feet were starting to hurt.

“And what am I currently doing?” You grouchily questioned. 

“Growing a baby,” Matthew reminded you. “Which, by the way, is fucking awesome and incredible, and oh, I should probably tell you that if it’s exhausting for a human to grow a human kid… How much energy do you think it takes to grow an Endless?” The raven had a point, you weren’t too stubborn to admit that.

“I concede to that,” You sighed, reaching up to run your fingers over Matthew’s back. “Would you mind running ahead to notify Morpheus and my dove that I am returning?” Matthew bobbed his head at you. 

“‘Course,” He replied. “Still can’t believe you agreed to inform him of your movements. You need to tell him that you're going to the bathroom too?” You cracked a grin and chuckled lightly at the raven's mutterings as he took flight from your shoulder. 

“Oh I did, Morpheus reworded his request only an hour after I started reporting every movement I made, even those that involved shifting in my seat.” You heard the receding raven's echoes of laughter and grinned. Rubbing your belly, you began making your way across the bridge connecting the village to the palace. 

Upon bringing you to The Dreaming, Morpheus had been far too overprotective of you for fear of you being hurt, or worse, having another miscarriage. It was endearing and heartwarming to see how engaged he was with your pregnancy, though you had to admit, he often went a little overboard on the protection. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and certainly would be able to feel if your baby was in distress. You weren’t young and you weren’t inexperienced. One could even say you had learned your lesson. 

You reached the palace and glared at the stairs you were going to have to climb to get to your rooms and then, the bath. For a brief moment, you considered just transporting yourself to your wing. It would be easy, wouldn’t take much effort on your part, not to mention quick… your feet would thank you. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Your shoulders slumped and your lip pouted at the deep and severe words that came from behind you. Curses, you were so close to getting yourself to your wing and the bath. Halting in step, you crossed your arms and pouted deeper as Morpheus strode over to you, his coat billowing behind him and a light scowl upon his face. You went complacent and plastered an innocent look on your face. Morpheus came to a stop in front of you and gazed down at you with a look of disapproval. 

“My Hope,” He drew out, “What did I tell you about using your essence when you are in such a delicate state? You are exhausted as it is, there is no need for you to put further strain upon your body.”

“It’s only to my room!” You protested, swinging an arm out. Morpheus countered your menial protest with an eyebrow raise. “And how did you even know I was considering it!?”

Morpheus’s lips curved at the corner as he wrapped his arms around your body and tugged you close. 

“You dove, my beloved, is in agreement with my sentiments,” Morpheus told you, enjoying the way your face morphed into a scowl at the admittance that it had been your dove that had ratted you out. You started grumpily muttering under your breath. 

“It was just because of the stairs,” You softly complained, chewing on your lower lip. “My feet hurt and I feel like I need a nap.” Morpheus stroked your hair soothingly and nuzzled the top of your head. 

“You should have called for me, my Hope.” 

“I’m pregnant, not an invalid.” You huffed, leaning into him. 

“I know that, Dawn,” Morpheus murmured, his arms shifting against your body to sweep you off your feet. Now cradled within your lover's arms, you sighed as the pressure on your feet disappeared. Your relief was audible and visible as Morpheus carried you to your desired destination. Much to your happiness, Morpheus joined you, placing your body on a ledge within the bubbling water. His hands reached for your aching and swollen limbs and in seconds you were moaning beneath his fingers massaging your flesh. 

“How does that feel so nice,” You softly moaned, wiggling yourself into a comfortable position and sticking your other leg out for Morpheus to massage. He chuckled and moved to take your ordered leg, his fingers tiptoeing across your flesh in gentle caresses. Morpheus couldn’t help but appreciate how lush and goddess-like your body had become. Your body was curvier, your hair thicker, and your breasts swollen with milk. You were an exquisitely beautiful being but the pregnancy had only blossomed your already breathtaking looks.

“I can make you feel even better, my Hope.” Morpheus purred, moving his lips up your leg with slow teasing. You groaned at the insinuation of his words and shifted, your body flaring with need.

“Morpheus must you tease me so,” You complained, shifting against the uncomfortable need and fire that was now boiling within your belly. The sudden yearning for Morpheus’s love and touch outweighed all the negative feedback you were experiencing with being pregnant. You wanted him and you wanted him now. Morpheus carefully lifted your body and set you on a plethora of towels waiting at the edge of the bath, letting one of your knees rest over his shoulder so he could continue to lavish your skin. After all, he was getting ever so close to his prize and would beg on his knees to taste you if that was what it took. Lucky for him you were not the slightest bit opposed, squirming around on the towels your lover had placed you upon. Your hands were roaming everywhere, desperate to appreciate and stroke whatever you could touch.

“Forgive me for my tease, my queen,” Morpheus spoke against your inner thigh, his lips pressing gently into your skin and mouth sucking just hard enough to leave marks. “You are simply far too irresistible.” Your leg trembled within his grasp and you dug your heel into his back. 

“My Dream, please,” You whispered, your fingers finding themselves caressing his neck. “My body longs for your touch and kiss.” Morpheus reached your hip bone and lifted his eyes to meet yours. His beautiful silver-blue eyes were nearly black with lust and that made you shiver. You retained that eye connection only briefly, Morpheus’ great hunger and desire for you was too much to resist and he dove down. His tongue eagerly flicked through your folds, lapping at what you had to give and being entirely greedy. 

You groaned and lifted your hips against his face, feeling flames licking at every surface of your skin. Morpheus hummed in happiness and licked further at the swollen folds of your flesh, drinking the sounds of your ecstasy. You grabbed fistfuls of his obsidian hair, twisting against his mouth and further pressing your heel into Morpheus’s back when he sucked on your clit. You whimpered and tugged on the strands of hair within your grasp, oh how divine it felt to have your dream feasting upon your aching flesh. It seemed that the farther along you got in your pregnancy the sweeter you became. 

He was taking his time, savoring your taste, and in no hurry to break you apart to your essence in picture-perfect ecstasy. Murmurs of the old language spilled from your honeyed lips in a quiet symphony, building to a crescendo that was sure to be exquisitely beautiful. The swells of pleasure that repeatedly lapped at your essence begged for release and yet, you wanted to hold onto the comfort of intimacy.

“Morpheus,” You moaned out, his intimate name falling from your lips like honey from honeycomb. Sweet, thick, and delicious. Your lover growled in satisfaction, the vibration of his sound reaching your flesh and making another bolt of pleasure rip its way up your spine. Your back went taut once more and you yelped. “By the Creators!”

Morpheus felt your trembles shake your entire body. He felt the way you raked your nails across his scalp, felt the sharp tugs on his hair. He felt it all. It wasn’t long until your moans and gasps turned to cries of ecstasy. Pregnancy had made you sensitive to the slightest touch and you could not hold back the tidal wave of pleasure that was crashing against the bounds of your physical body, any longer. Back arching one last time, your orgasm washed over your skin in a dance of electricity that had your legs jerking Morpheus’s hold. Satisfaction burned within Morpheus’s chest as he washed utter bliss bloom on your face. Your body relaxed as you moaned softly. 

“Feel better, my Hope?” Morpheus gently asked, his lips now toying with the curve of your hipbone. “I should hate to leave you in such an uncomfortable state.” You giggled softly and let your fingers slide through his messy strands. Then you brushed your fingertips along his cheek. 

“Oh I feel much better,” You sighed, the aches and pains within your limbs and body entirely forgotten. “I think I could do with a nice nap.” Morpheus hummed in agreement, placing several kisses along your baby bump while slipping his arms up your sides to gather your body. 

“Then rest, my love, I will bathe you and bring you to bed. You do not need to lift even a finger.” He murmured, dragging you back into the water and his heavenly embrace. From there Morpheus lovingly washed your hair for you, and then your skin, though you had to admit he probably spent at least ten minutes caressing your baby bump. You didn’t mind. There was something so endearing about seeing Dream of the Endless obsessed with his child, and you knew that he was absolutely serious about being the best father he could be. You knew that in your essence. 

Morpheus brought you out of the bath, having his sand caress your skin, drying it before forming a gossamer night dress upon your body. You sighed and pressed your face into his neck, once again basking in the intimacy you had with your lover. He gently set you upon your shared bed and quickly joined you, knowing that you were going to want him there to hold you while you slept. It was a good thing that Morpheus had delegated many of his tasks to his subjects. Rolling onto your side, you slung your leg over his side and wrapped your arms around his torso, sighing happily. Morpheus looked down at you.

“Are you comfortable, my Hope?” He asked, wanting to make sure that you were in absolute comfort and in no discomfort whatsoever. You happily hummed and tucked your face into the crook of his neck. 

“Quite so,” You murmured, wiggling your body one last time before allowing your mind to slip into a dreamscape. Morpheus hummed in appeasement the moment you slipped under and fully relaxed against him.

Date Published: 4/24/23

Last Edit: 4/24/23

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[japhan2024]

THE ISLAND

Read on AO3

Chapter 15: Epilogue

Ian takes Anthony somewhere special and they discuss their future together.

Chapter word count: 1.665

Rated: general

Anthony got the text. He smiled. 

“Would you look at that, Ian. Merry Christmas,” he said, beaming at this best friend who sat across the room from him. He gestured to their window. Ian got up and watched the snow falling gently out of the sky. 

"Amazeballs," he mumbled.

"Yeah..." Anthony still couldn’t believe it. That after all those years, he finally found his best friend. And that they could witness a white Christmas. It felt like magic.

The sun was beginning to set on Christmas Eve. Anthony walked up to Ian and they looked out of the window together. The hills around them weren't white quite yet, but it looked promising. Everything looked promising, in fact. Young sprouts of pioneer plants stood hopefully, waiting for a time after winter without any fires.

Ian decided to use the opportunity to make a joke. “You know, this whole project to cool down the world does have a downside. People everywhere are now heating the shit out of their homes and offices.”

“Why is that bad?” Anthony looked at Ian. He knew he was going to pull some nonsense. He was already getting giggly.

“You’ve played right into Putin’s hand, my guy. He’s selling oil like never before.”

“Oh, so I should have let the world burn just to spite him?”

Ian shrugged. “I guess not.”

Anthony stretched himself over the couch and Ian sat down next to him.

“Aren’t you tempted to go back into politics though?”

“No, not at all! I mean, I’ll have to do some stuff like endorse the VP for the next election, but…” Ian looked into Anthony’s eyes. He seemed determined. “I’m glad that era of my life is over. I’d really like to just chill and do fun things, for as long as possible. Enjoy life a bit, you know?”

“I do,” Anthony agreed. They looked at each other just a moment too long.

“And have some bro bonding time, with my bro, bro!” Ian pushed Anthony softly against the shoulder.

“Let’s go for a joy ride tomorrow, then,” Anthony suggested.

“Sure. My TVR hasn’t seen much action lately.”

“What do you mean, ‘action’?”

“What do you want it to mean?”

Anthony burst out laughing. “Oh my god.”

“We should probably take Angela up on her invitation to the theater,” Ian suggested with an enthusiasm Anthony didn’t see often in him. There was a twinkle in his eye, like he was really digging this idea.

“Yeah, why not! I mean, we’re not acTORS, like her and Amanda and Chanse…”

“True, but we can act pretty well, I think! I mean, how hard can it be."

Ian stood up like he was going to perform. "We can’t be worse than people in like, those old tv-commercials where they were trying to sell you some shit, right,” Ian was getting more and more animated, “Like IS YOUR LIFE FRICKED UP? ARE YOU A LOSER WHO WILL NEVER SUCCEED IN LIFE? GOOD! USE OUR PRODUCT, YOU IDIOT! And it would be like, a fucking brick or some shit, AND YOU WILL BE RICH AND HOT IMMEDIATELY!”

“BUY NOW,” Anthony stood up and continued the bit, “AND GET NINE THOUSAND FREE EXPIRED CHEEZ-ITS FOR FREE!” Anthony giggled through all his words. “That over-the-top acting always gets me.”

“Not to mention the physical comedy,” Ian agreed. “They go like wuueeeeeueeeeoo”, he fake-toppled and spun around, all the while Anthony almost fell over from laughter.

The doorbell rang. Anthony went to open it.

Not two, not three but four people stood in the doorway, snow melting in their hair.

Courtney had a bob-cut even blonder than how Anthony remembered. Shayne stood right next to them, he seemed buffer.

Behind them were Tommy and Spencer. They both wore inconspicuous shades and black trench coats.

“Hmm, it seems like you're hiding the president in your house, I’m afraid I have to investigate,” Shayne joked in Spencer’s voice.

“You might want to keep your voice down or our stealth attack will get ruined,” Spencer joked back.

“HEY, don’t close the door on us, bitch,” came a dramatic voice from behind the group.

Brandon and Nicole came strutting up the street. They looked like a hippy dad and his hot daughter.

“Hurry up then, I’ve only got one SLUTTY minute!” Anthony retorted. He walked outside in his house slippers to greet and hug them. 

"I'm so happy to see you guys!" Anthony beamed.

"Aaah, there it is again! The Padilla smile! I'm blinded by its brightness," Nicole joked.

Brandon looked at her, bemused. "I thought I was the only one who was affected! I guess not," he said.

Everyone crowded into the hallway and then shuffled through to the living room. 

“Dinner will be here soon,” Ian commented after he’d greeted everyone.

“You’re not cooking yourself?” Courtney asked, looking fake-disapprovingly.

“I’m ordering myself, thank you very much.”

“That does count for something,” Anthony agreed with Ian.

“Do you at LEAST have some hard liquor?” Brandon went to search the kitchen cabinets himself. “Ah, there it is!”

Anthony and Brandon got everyone a drink.

“So, you guys are like, best friends now,” Brandon stated with a wink. But there was a slight accusatory tone to his voice as well.

“To be honest, I knew this was my homie from the moment we met,” Ian said with a glow on his face.

“How precious. You know, I also found a new best friend, Anthony.”

“Hii, how are you,” Nicole joked.

“You look really good together,” Anthony complimented them.

“Oh, we know, honey” Brandon answered as he and Nicole did some poses.

“Look at Team Rocket over there,” Shayne couldn’t help but comment.

“They’re a hot ass Team Rocket.” Courtney leaned against their husband, relaxing into his strong arms.

Ian looked around the room. “On that subject, I think we have enough controllers, right, Anth?”

“I think so.” Anthony rummaged through a box next to the television and got everyone a controller.

They played a free multiplayer Pokémon-themed game for a while. When their food arrived, they sat down at the dining table and the couch, because Ian and Anthony didn’t have enough chairs for all of them.

“So, how is married life treating you?” Ian asked Courtney and Shayne. They smiled like big goofs.

“It’s actually amazing,” Courtney said. “Shayne is my best friend. We took the leap, and also got romantic. But the friendship is still there, it’s still the foundation of our relationship.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Shayne continued. “Like, we play videogames together, we chill. And then whenever we feel like it, like now,” he said, kissing Courtney on the cheek, “we kiss.”

Everyone loved their story. But were they laying the ‘friendship’ aspect of their love on a bit thick? What point did they try to make? Ian didn’t know. "It's like my mom always says," he commented, "friendship always wins!" 

Everyone cheered to that.

Anthony leaned towards Ian, who sat next to him at the table. He inhaled slowly and sighed with a smile.

~

The next day, Ian and Anthony got into Ian’s car.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Ian said. He wore a fake mustache, shades and a cap to look inconspicuous. Anthony couldn’t wait to see what he had in store for him.

They were driving some hours and Anthony lost track of time. He just marveled at the very green surroundings along the highway.

Ian was having fun speeding. “Let’s get this baby to 80!”

“Ian, you’re still technically the president for a couple more weeks. You don’t want to get a ticket.”

Anthony couldn’t help being concerned for his best friend but at the same time, he felt joy. Seeing Ian having this much fun and being able to witness that up-close was a gift Anthony would never take for granted.

“Oh shit, oh, Ian?” Anthony sat up straight, checking the road signs. “Are we going to Sac’?”

“Almost there,” Ian grinned.

They drove all the way into the city, past cinemas they’d been to, past the river kids used to throw other kids’ school stuff into... Until they arrived at a particular playground. It was an unassuming small park, but very significant for them both.

“Dude, this is where our whole school would hang out,” Anthony remembered it all. Sitting with his fellow goths, not feeling the vibe. He’d look around for some distraction. And of course, Ian had been there, pretending to be in a band, shooting a fake music video.

“What was that song you used to always sing?” Anthony smiled as he half-remembered it.

“You mean BOX MAAAAAAANNNN?” Ian sang it to Anthony for good measure.

“Oh my god yes! That’s it, the whole school sang it with you. I thought you were really cool back then.”

“Did you, now? Do you still think I’m cool?”

“Hmm, maybe. I dare you to sing it right now,” Anthony laughed.

Ian got to it, he really performed it and gave his all.

“That was amazing,” Anthony wheezed.

“Thanks, I still got my mojo,” Ian said, a little out of breath. “I think joining Angela’s theater might actually be my next career move, you know?”

“I think that would be absolutely crazy and so much fun. But, Ian?”

“Yeah?”

“Like, WE could, you know, you and me? We could do something like that on our own? Just the two of us?”

“You’d like that?”

“Yeah! I think our humor is so compatible, and don’t get me wrong, Amanda, Angela, Chanse and all the others, they’re great! But we have this special thing, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, I do. But we don’t have a lot of experience with this, Anthony. I think it would be a wise choice to practice with that whole fun bunch first.”

“I guess you’re right, Ian. Wow, we’re really gonna do it?”

“I would never have done anything like this, if we hadn’t met again, Anthony. It feels so special. Like, why not, right? Let’s do this.”

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 10.1

The wrought-iron building around the landing, on this end of the concourse, the tiled floor, in white, yellow, black, and red, each tile about three feet across by three feet across.

same humors color coding as the judges!

“Is there any way around binding her?” Avery asked Tymon.  “The whole point is to give something up and lock us in as partners, but the books outline it as dependent on getting the seal applied.”

would binding Snowdrop to the Seal of Solomon get rid of her reversed talk thing? That might make it worth it, since it seems it really bothers her.

“But it’s important to me because the seal is… the Others I trust and the Practitioners I don’t trust have convinced me that whatever it used to be, it’s evolved to something that’s, hmm… it’s in bad faith, I suppose?  Or used in bad faith.  Snowdrop’s included among the group of Others and if I bound her I think that would change how some of them look at me.”

and conversely not doing it is a great sign of good faith

Verona was an improviser, to a scary degree.  Avery did admire that. And Lucy was very aware of… of the present.  She was present, Avery thought, hyperaware of the words people were using and the details in the situation and stuff. Avery had often felt like she had to turn her brain off for her best performance. Eye on the goal, trusting her skates or her soccer cleats to help her get to that goal, mind disassociating from the everyday to get into the rules of the game, of position and movement and where her team was.

which contributes to Avery undervaluing herself, since she isn't conscious of making the decisions she does

“I feel like if I start having to use the seal regularly, that’s a problem.  That’s not the direction I want to go.  I’d rather…”

it closes off options to commit to not using the seal, but I think that's the only way to keep to that principle? If using the seal is an option and comes with no practice-related downsides, it will always be a possibility to resort to. Making part of her practice contingent on not using the seal locks in this principle as something Avery can't (easily) compromise.

Hat on a string at her neck, mask at her side. She took the horn and poised it at her brow, and it stayed there, where it would be if she had the mask on and it was still a part of the mask.

I like this phantom antler thing Avery has

Snowdrop grinned, framed by a backdrop of Lost, wide enough that Avery could see that she still had missing teeth.

nice that this crowd of Lost showed up, giving Snowdrop more support to match the practitioners Avery asked to attend

“By old rules, I invite you deeper into my world.  I’ve been greedy, Snow, we took you from the forest, I seriously thought I might sacrifice you, and I made you a tool to help me on the Trail.  You did everything you were supposed to and more, you saved me, you won me over, and even if the Trail was a nightmare that I still haven’t completely gotten over, it gave me you.  I wanted to do this here, in a place that’s closer to your nature as a Lost, because we spend so much time in my world.  When we go back, let this ritual help you be welcomed and embraced by that world, by humanity, and by any demesne I establish.” “I don’t want it and I don’t accept. I want you and the spirits to hear me, I’m neither Lost, from Spirit, or from Nature. I’m all of those things and none and you’re not welcome to any of it. You and me are different in this, and I think that’s important, Avery. You’re not meant to straddle worlds like me. You’re meant to stay put and I’m going to make you stay put.” Avery’s hand tightened, gripping Snowdrop’s. “I accept any and all help that you’re willing to give me. I accept any and all shelter and support you provide.”

I LOVE OATHS LIKE THIS SO MUCH.

Particularly the thing you get mostly with fealty oaths, about granting a place in your home. And here it's both Avery's potential future demesne and all the world of humanity...

And I like that between these two, there is no limits or requirements for what Snowdrop provides.

“We hear you, Lance.  Come on over.”  The reply came through the walkie-talkie, and ended with a double buzz.

not "Come on. Over." ?

“I was thinking long knight’s move.  Three forward, one over, or vice versa.”

fits her! both the "knight" concept and the movement, bold advance with a flanking element

“I’ll give you sustenance.  Including strawberry milk, and I’ll give you strength and lifespan as part of that.  My lifespan is your lifespan, if and when it helps.”

oh nice! we're cutting between the Familiar ritual and the Path adventure, I thought the ritual seemed a bit short

also, I think "my lifespan is your lifespan" is probably the kind of statement most practitioners try to avoid

“I give you my ability to lie, Avery, out of hopes it screws you up real bad and ruins your practice forever.  You get nothing else from me you’d want, in protections and special rules.”

holy shit. Lying! That's major for a practitioner. Avery could make great use of that, especially if she keeps it quiet and uses Oni-style tactics.

On John’s shoulder, Cherrypop leaned over to a Lost and did a really bad job of whispering, “I think Snowdrop’s winning.”

ranked competitive familiar ritual

“No,” Jude said.  “With most things out on the Paths, if there’s a rule tied to something you can manage with one of the five senses, it’s rarely going to lie.” “When I walked the Trail, one of the objects was buried in the paint, the cat skull was barely visible under an Other’s skin, and the coin was under a layer of dirt.” “Where the heck was your starting point? A murder room?”

Snowdrop's influence on the Trail? Good to know it was harder than anticipated though, that makes the Forest Ribbon Trail a lot more reasonable as a starting Path.

“The antler?  I guess my broken antler was staying up when it should fall down.” “Could be a Lost thing. Entangling what you had with you back then with you. It might be worth looking at the clothes you wore back then.”

and here I was thinking it was just a narrative resonance thing. Guess I've spent too much time thinking in terms of PGTE

Snowdrop nodded.  “And I’m going to ruin your life and I never want to see you set up a family.  I’ll be the treasure to your trash, the day to your night, and the cool flourishes to your out-of-nowhere biteyness.”

biteyness!

“Then I bind myself to my word,” Avery said.  She took the broken horn from over her head and pressed it to Snowdrop’s collarbone.  “To what I’ve sworn to you, to intent.  We forego the direct use of the Seal of Solomon, but we keep its intent.  You were bound once, symbolically and literally, and that’s enough.  I trust you.” “I’m calling this off, I don’t accept, I can’t trust you,” Snowdrop said. She pulled off an earring. She reached over to Avery’s friendship bracelet and stuck the length of the earring through the braided fabric. “I swear nothing.” To Avery’s Sight, the mist rolled, and she could see the tether of the connection between them, extending along her arm, with friendship bracelet with the dangling opossum charm. It worked around the black rope. Silver ran through the fabric of the bracelet, and copper-tinted light through the antler.

<3 <3 <3

... I wonder if I could get some opossum charms... the site I looked at didn't have any but there must be some out there

“We must each give you some rules to follow, however.”

Interesting, are these rules just being imposed on Avery as penalty for jumping on their table, or are they telling her about conditions of the Path?

It wasn’t that there weren’t any moves.  It was that there weren’t any good ones.  Stalling one and moving into a space it would otherwise take still meant she was in close proximity to a bunch of Others.

just like chess!

Not Miss.  No, she didn’t expect to see Miss, especially when Miss had been unable to answer the call.  But when they’d seen Miss on the bridge of light beams, there had been another Other there.  A ballerina in a blue tutu, head turned away.

oh hey, went back to look at Miss's interlude, and as well as the ballerina there was also the dog on a ball and schoolkids on their way to Earthly Oak Avenue

“She’s kind of an Other with more confirmed Finder kills than the you-know-what, according to our records.”

welp. Miss keeps nice company? Though honestly, remembering how the Finder Miss encountered treated her... this might be justified

The ballerina brought her hands to her face, where Avery couldn’t really see through her head to make it out.  Avery almost went with Snowdrop Sight to see around the sides of the tightly bunned-up brown hair, but the Ballerina turned her face skyward, hands cupped. There was no sound, but it was pretty clear what she meant.

????

actually, looking at the lines below:

But it was unnecessary, because the schoolkids behind Avery were howling, now, voices overlapping. They didn’t name it, but it was clear they knew, too. “Is she here?” Avery asked.

the Wolf?

“I take issue with that,” Snowdrop said.  She gripped the rope, slid her hand down to the part of it that was insubstantial, and then pulled, twice. Nothing happened.

fuck.

[goji-pilled]

MK-S: We’re getting closer to Halloween so it’s about time for a bit of nightmare fuel.

Nagisa couldn’t quite feel her arms, but she assumed that they were pinned to her side in this…tunnel? Tube? It was way too dark to tell. She didn’t actually know how she got here, so she was 85% certain that this was some sort of dream. The remaining 15% was witch labyrinth; She’d been playing too much XCOM* recently to be willing to gamble her life on 85%, so onward she squirmed. She wiggled back and forth, managing to make some forward progress…She thinks. Again, it’s too dark to tell.

Sheesh, is this what it’s like for worm Charlotte to emerge out of doll Bebe? Actually, the worm probably had it worse, with how throat muscles try to keep things moving down the throat…Hmm, could this tunnel be a throat? Probably not, didn’t feel wet or squishy.

Well, at least it hadn’t been wet or squishy. She could see a light now, and end to this tunnel…no, it was definitely a throat. And now it felt wet and squishy.

Chance of Dream: 95%. Witch Labyrinth: 5%.

Now she could tell why she couldn’t feel her arms: she didn’t have any. She was Charlotte, crawling up the esophagus. Her esophagus? She didn’t feel anything in her throat. Ugh, dream logic.

Dream: 97% Labyrinth: 3%.

As she approached the light, she could see her jagged Bebe teeth. Dang, how does her worm form not gut itself moving past those things? And for crying out loud, she brushes! …which doesn’t actually affect the sharpness of teeth. Heh, she’s tired and not thinking straight.

Dream: 99%. Labyrinth: 1%.

Finally she was out. She couldn’t really see anything in front of her. She just knew it was bright. She looked back and saw her doll form, just standing there. And then Bebe looked up.

Bebe stared at Charlotte…and smiled, with the worm still coming out of her mouth. Then Bebe bit down.

Charlotte screamed as the jagged edges tore into her body like a rusty cleaver, pain rushing through her body. Pain. Actual, agonizing pain.

Dream: 67%. Labyrinth: 33%.

The lips of Bebe clasped around Charlotte’s worm body, slurping part of her back into her mouth like a noodle. Then she bit down again. And again. And Again. Pulling Charlotte’s head a little closer each time. Charlotte tried to do something, anything, but she couldn’t; all she could do was make sounds resembling a scream from her inhuman mouth, as the doll kept tearing her off section by section, like she was on a conveyer belt for an automatic guillotine. Then, finally, her eyes were staring directly up at the teeth. They looked massive, as though she had shrunken down to the point that each tooth looked more like a giant crusher above her than a sharpened edge. She could see the edges of Bebe’s mouth rise up in a smile. Then the teeth came down.

Nagisa’s eyes flew open, arms flinging to her neck and face. Her breathing was erratic. After making sure everything was still attached, she let out a deep breath through her nose.

Dream: 99.9%. Labyrinth: 0.1%.

Nagisa looked up to see that she was in her room, but not her bed. She was standing at the foot of her sister’s bed. And said sister was currently cowering on the far side of said bed, eyes wide and body trembling as she clutched her pillow. She was in her magical girl attire, weapon drawn as well.

“Yuma? What’s-“ it was at that moment an obscene amount of drool poured out of Nagisa’s mouth. She instinctively raised her hand to catch the liquid, with mixed results. On the upside, she didn’t get any drool on Yuma’s bed. On the downside, that’s because it turns out the liquid was actually blood.

That’s not all she saw as she looked down at her hands. Several small black tubes covered with polkadots were scattered across her sister’s bedsheets. And a severed tongue was sitting on the bed. Nagisa quickly stuck a finger in her mouth. Her tongue was still there, coated in her own blood, but nothing seemed to be actively cut or bleeding.

“Did you heal-“

“I didn’t touch you.” Yuma stated quickly. Upon hearing Nagisa speak, her trembling had stopped. “Is your tongue back?”

“B-Back?” Nagisa stammered. “Y-Yeah, it’s still in…is that really my…” She looked at the severed…her severed tongue, put a finger back in her mouth to confirm the muscle was still there, then looked back at Yuma. “What the hell happened to me?”

Dream: 13%. Labyrinth: 0%

Something Else: 87%.

Omake:

“Yeah, it’s probably time to get my sleepwalking thing checked by a professional.”

“Or by an exorcist.” Yuma suggested. “Or Phil.”

“Phil says he’s not going to get involved!” Klarissa’s voice came from down the hall. “I don’t know what he means or what you did, but you’re apparently on your own. Or we’re on our own, depending on what happened.”

*XCOM is a turn based strategy game, renowned for its difficulty and how your soldiers can actually miss shots that have a 70% chance to hit; encourages you to adjust your tactics to ensure you’re not loading all your eggs into one basket. (Fun game, and I think on Switch.) Basically, your highest ranking soldier, customized to look like Mami, dies a permadeath and now you need to ensure the rest of your squad survives, preferably extracting the KIA body so you don’t lose the gear the soldier had equipped. Oh, and you are definitely going to kill those alien psionics next chance you get for revenge, which you’ll mark on the custom epitaph you’ll write on her memorial wall in the bar.

MK-S: So, consider this an early Halloween treat. I don’t remember if the horror genre is as associated with the holiday in Germany as it is in America, but regardless, been a while since I did a dedicated scare story. And I think quite a while since Sleepwalking Bebe, whatever it is, made an appearance. Anyway what was her motivation for causing Nagisa this distress? *Shrugs* Beats me, I just wanted to write something creepy. Sleepwalking Bebe is one of those things that’s more fun to write as scary and keep as unnerving for all characters involved. Nagisa has no lasting physical injury, though Yuma’s spooked seeing Bebe chop up the worm and then bite off Nagisa’s tongue, only for her sister to apparently have her tongue back, but also a mouthful of blood. Her powers and worm form are still working normally too. Perhaps this was meant to send a message, or perhaps this is its own version of a prank. Perhaps it felt like it’s been too long since Nagisa/Charlotte felt true fear. Or maybe this was the equivalent of Sleepwalking Bebe flossing her teeth. Impossible to say. And I think it’s more fun that way. Have a good day.

Nagisa's no good very bad night

[billconrad]

How Writing Affected My Life

    My big life goals were to become an electrical engineer, get a job, and have a family. Writing did not play a part in these plans, yet stories rattled around my bonkers mind from an early age, and I thought that it would be fun to write something after I retired.

    Life does not always go as planned, and being unemployed three times certainly deterred me from my goals. The first round lasted only a month, but it frightened me, and I had to do something about it. So, I created a notebook full of ideas to plan my future.

    I wanted to organize my thoughts on business ideas and employment goals. Then, analyze everything to determine the best chances for success. This list of ideas included becoming a big-time author, and I wrote a summary (about a paragraph) for each story idea so I could evaluate the opportunity.

    With this tool, I planned to get rehired and start a business in my free time. I did not include writing a book because it would take too much time. Everything was going according to plan, but life threw another curve ball. I was working for a company called Sundstrand (a division of United Technologies Corporation). They had three divisions (cheap, average, and high-quality) that made the same product. It made good business sense to eliminate the middle player. In hindsight, this decision was foolish because it led to a billion-dollar Airbus lawsuit. United Technologies Corporation settled out of court for an undisclosed sum.

    This second round of unemployment (technically not unemployment because I was working part-time) lasted a year, and I needed a side activity to keep from going crazy. I had recently attempted to start a business and needed a break from that nightmare. So, I wrote a book because I knew it would be easy money. I began without knowing the reality of publishing, marketing, or proper book structure.

    Since that chaotic beginning, I have gained many skills and self-publish four books. It has been five years, and I thought it would be interesting to see how this effort affected my life.

    Improved writing skills are the most prominent change. The flaws jump off the page like rocketships when I look at my past documents. Now, my sentences are more straightforward and more grammatically correct.

    The downside to my new skills is that I spot errors in other people’s work. Before my writing adventure, I found it amusing on the rare occasions I spotted a mistake. (I cannot recall seeing an error in a professionally published book before I started writing.) Now, errors upset me, and I look down on unskilled authors. Is this bad? Yes.

    Writing now occupies much of my time due to the many hours of self-editing and self-promoting. That is time I cannot get back, but what if I could time travel? Would I recommend the path to myself? Hmm. It is clear that I will break even with this venture, but I answer yes. While there have been many negatives, the positives have outweighed them.

    My speech has also improved because I think more about what I will say. I also focus more on other people’s speech and often think of better/clearer methods. My family and friends have all commented on the improvement.

    While watching movies, I couldn’t care less about acting, cinematography, and special effects. Instead, I focus on the plot and critically analyze it. This approach reduces entertainment but provides valuable information. Why? A movie allows me to visually see how a plot unfolds, which is not possible in a book. I also like to think about fixing a lousy plot; recently, there have been so many.

    Sometimes, I fantasize about random people I see walking by. It’s fun to mentally describe their appearance (to develop excellent character descriptions) or guess their thoughts. Sometimes, I even put them into a plot I make up on the spot. Is this creepy? Probably.

    Writing has made me more liberal. I want people to be happier and am more willing to be part of the solution. This comes from my desire/empathy for my characters to succeed. It might also be out of the passion for a positive plot.

    I have a more worldly view because my characters travel. Therefore, I research other cultures, geography, flights, and currencies.

    I am more outgoing online, including sharing my views, discussing critical writing topics, asking for advice, and promoting my books. 

    Last, I met many authors and became pen pals with two. I certainly would not have done this before my writing adventure.

    Until writing this, I had not analyzed all the changes. Writing has indeed affected many areas of my life. So, let me ask myself a question. Do I think these changes are common among authors? I would guess that 75% of the changes I experienced are standard. But making up plots with random people? Only a crazy person like myself would go that far.

    You’re the best -Bill

    December 20, 2023

    Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[sukirichi]

Breakfast: ingredient 64 + sugar 5 for inumaki

Okay, but like- what about inumaki's first kiss? His mouth is a very sensitive area and his first kiss would be a very intimate act, so here's what happens: reader and him are mutually pining BUT all everyone else sees is the sexual tension between them.

Somehow itadori manages to lock them in a dark small space, where they share their first kiss, yet they don't speak about it and to each other for a long time. At some point itadori (i swear this kid is a matchmaker) points out how y/n and toge can't even glance at each other and inumaki breaks. Late at night he shows up at reader's dorm, pins her to the wall and kisses her like no tomorrow. After they eventually have a rough make out with toge's shirt coming off, they lay on her bed where reader tells him she really likes him and he grabs her chin to stop her rambling and she looses it when she sees so much love and lust swirling in his eyes (they maybe have a third make out round 👀) and in the end they come to the conclusion they love each other and that they should have acted sooner on it.

I don't know if make outs count as nsfw and i read that you can write only sfw for inumaki, so it's okay if you can't complete this request. Just let me know you if can't.

Also get prepared to be spoiled spammed with asks.

— 🍰 strawberry shortcake anon

delicate

the first kiss with inumaki toge is as delicate as he is.

meal order: ★🥞 + 64 (canon au) + 5 (mutual pining) + sensitive first kiss with inumaki, them trapped in a room + yuuji as matchmaker uwu + WALL PIN KISS YES SIR + basically hot af inumaki

warnings: nothing really, just make out sessions and implications of smut, also UH soft dom inumaki toge, i guess? unedited as always

song i listened to while writing: I.F.L.Y. by Bazzi

note: 🍰 anon TYSM for this request, my heart was legit doki doki the whole time. this totally reminds me of why inumaki was my first crush and he’s the reason i came to watch jjk lol i love him so much <3 i hope this is what you’ve been looking for and that you like it! i had a lot of fun writing this one!

“Yuuji, don’t!” You tried to scramble against the strawberry haired boy’s grip, but he was far too strong, and it didn’t help that Nobara’s riled up self was helping him push you back inside the storage room. “Yuuji, Nobara, I’m your senpai, have some respect—” You don’t get to finish your words before you’re pushed inside, landing on the floor with a thud.

“Yuuji!” You banged your fists on the door once you’ve recovered, screaming at the top of your lungs. From outside the door, you heard the underclassmen giggle and run away, leaving you with your crush, Inumaki Toge, of all people.

Falling down into a squat, you wrapped your arms around yourself, refusing to look at him. You were only thankful that it was dark so Toge wouldn’t see how your pupils blew wide, your body responding at the soft scent of his perfume and laundry detergent. He’d been your crush for who knows how long now, and your first memory of meeting the cursed speech user burns at the back of your mind to remind you that it’s been years, and yet you’ve barely spoken to him.

Unlike the other students, your cursed technique wasn’t the most useful in combat. Your technique allowed you to nullify the abilities of others, but the downside of it was that it didn’t have much advantage against curses, so you had to rely on your physical strength to exorcise.

On the bright side, though…

“So,” Toge begins, shuffling away from the dusty wall and closer to you. Your heartbeat raced when his knees brushed against yours, thighs pressed against one another. “You’re a victim of them too.”

“Hmm, guess so.”

Neither of you speak for a while. Toge himself wasn’t much of a talker, and he barely batted an eye when Maki and Panda hauled his ass inside the storage room. He was so calm and placid that your mind was in mess – both because you were comfortable and happy in his presence, but at the same time, your palms were so sweaty and the room was so stuffed you could barely breathe. It didn’t help that Toge was humming too, reassured that he wasn’t going to hurt you with his powers.

“Uhm,” you started nervously, fiddling with your fingers. The silence stretched out thick and cordial that you couldn’t bear it anymore, and you turned to Toge with wide eyes, blinking back rapidly when he faced you as well, his deep purple eyes like a painting before you. “Do-do you know why we’re locked in here?”

Your palms grew wetter with each ticking second; Toge taking his time to answer.

Nobara had eavesdropped on you gushing to Megumi on how Toge looked so cute during breakfast this morning, and the girl immediately ran off to tell her best friend, Yuuji; the two of them sharing the same braincells.

Before you knew it, everyone split into two groups, your classmates dragging Toge away while Nobara and Yuuji manhandled you, hissing into your ear to man up and fess.

As if it was as easy as that! Inumaki Toge – albeit approachable and kind – was still the light of your life, the apple of your eye, and he barely acknowledged your presence the whole two years you’ve been with him. He was much closer with Maki and Panda while you got along more with the younger ones (although you wouldn’t hesitate to redact that statement after doing this to you), so the chances of you ever striking up a full conversation with him were low.

You only admired him from afar, sighing dreamily into your hands while he trained with Panda. Megumi seemed to be the only decent one, silent and bored as ever while you rambled on tirelessly on how much Toge looked so buff under his uniform yet had the face baby, stating over and over again he was born just to drive you crazy.

You should’ve known someone would find out one way or another, but heavens forbid, not him. The both of you were barely friends to begin with – you didn’t want to shatter whatever mutual respect you had for each other just because you crushed on him hard.

Mind running back and forth over the different ways Toge could reject you, because obviously someone had told him, or obviously he knew already – why else would he be locked here with you if your friends didn’t know something? It was getting hard to read his face from the darkness; the only thing you could make out were his long lashes and lips visible with his collar down.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” he avoided your gaze, and you swallowed audibly at the sound of his husky voice; unused to speaking this much. “But…but we’ve got nothing to worry about. Gojo-Sensei or Nanamin will come around soon.”

“Okay,” you nodded at his words, cursing inwardly that this was your perfect chance to confess or at least try and be friends with him, but your whole body was burning, feet frozen in your place that you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You watched from the corner of your eye as Toge rocked back and forth in his heels, cheeks puffed out, and your eyes zeroed in on the snake tattoo beside his lips.

Toge rarely ever let his collar down to muffle his voice, so seeing him expose his lips like this almost felt intimate. He looked so pretty, long lashes fluttering on top of those warmed cheeks and strong arms wrapped around his knees.

He was just an arm’s length away. This was the closest you’d ever gotten with him, and maybe it was because you’d kept your feelings a secret for so long that it suddenly burst through. Faster than you could take notice of yourself, your arm reached out to cup his cheeks, thumb swiping against the tattoos. “Pretty,” you murmured, Toge stiffening up under your touch.

His eyes skewed over to yours, wide and unreadable, but there was something there – something burning. He had to bite down his cheek as you caressed his face absentmindedly, and it wasn’t until his fingers came up to your wrist that you realized what you were doing.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, the warmth of his skin now searing because of your embarrassment. “Toge – I-I didn’t mean to – I’m so sorry! It’s just, your tattoos look so pretty and I’ve always—”

Your words are thrown right back into your mouth when Toge tugged you forward, sending the both of you toppling to the ground. Toge’s hands were delicate, just as delicate as your touch, when he cupped your face, his lips moving with yours. You were stunned for a moment before pleasure and fireworks exploding everywhere burst within you, prompting you to kiss him back in urgent fervor.

Toge’s lips tasted like candy, his sighs into your mouth melting your insides until you’re crumpling his shirt, eyes shut so tight in fear that maybe this would all disappear the moment you opened them.

Your hands travelled everywhere – from his shoulders, to his neck, his jaw – before it settled into his hair, the satisfaction of finally getting to run your hands through them has you weakening in his hold. Toge keeps his grip on your waist firm, almost possessive even, and he held you up both, sitting up while your arms wound around his neck.

A curse must’ve possessed you because you moaned into his mouth when he nipped at your bottom lip, tugging it inside his mouth so he could taste your cherry chapstick.

He wasn’t in a better state than yours. As the cursed speech user, his mouth was one of his most sensitive parts, and it took all energy it had in him to not kiss you senseless right then and there, your lips swiping over his mouth in such a mind-numbing sensation.

It felt like his body was on fire, the heat licking up from his toes to right where you were pressed on him. Your lips on his was scorching, the soft sighs and moans you gave him only adding to the fuel.

Toge groaned as your nails subconsciously pulled at his hair, making him grind you down into the V of his lips, pressing your chest firms against his until there was no more space. Through the darkness and nearly airless atmosphere of the room, Toge still managed to take your breath away, your lips moving in synch and you were falling, falling, falling.

He effortlessly held your weakening arms up before he pulled away, both your chests panting at the sudden heated kiss. His eyes trailed down from your lust-filled gaze to the bow of your lips, where the flesh was plump and abused.

Toge’s thumb swiped over your lips that had you frozen solid because he looked at you so gently, delicately, almost as if he didn’t want to hurt you. But he never could – you nullified everyone’s powers and allowed him freedom in your space. You’d let him come again and again, welcoming him with open arms if he wanted so, and in that moment, you believed he did.

Although why would he want you?

Fears and insecurities struck a chord in you and you scrambled away from his lap, leaving Toge all alone in the ground. You ducked your head down to ignore the confused and hurt expression on his face, turning back to the door instead. “I’m so sorry,” you rasped out in one breath, “I-I didn’t mean for that kiss to happen and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Please just forget this ever happened and I really wish you and I aren’t awkward for this. Okay, good night. See you around.”

Pulling your phone out of your pocket after cursing yourself for not thinking of texting Megumi sooner, you speed dialed the younger boy, begging him to unlock the door.

Megumi came around a few minutes later. Toge had long settled behind you, silent but still catching his breath from your previous lip-locking. His presence unnerved you and you rubbed your hands up and down your arms, praying to whoever divines self that Toge would forget about this as well. The moment Megumi came around, you leaped out of the room, leaving two confused boys – with one of them unknowingly shattered.

The next few days were hell.

You and Toge hadn’t talked much at all before, but now, you both pretended as if the other didn’t existed. During class where there had to be pairings, you immediately sided with Maki and pushing Panda to Toge’s way, the latter frowning behind his collar every time you avoided his gaze.

You just couldn’t handle being anywhere near him after that kiss. You feared that your heart would combust and you’d further embarrass yourself in front of him, as if you weren’t embarrassing enough with how excited you were as you kissed him.

Gosh, what would Toge think of you now?

You bet he found you so weird, and your suspicions were only confirmed when he’d resorted to avoiding you as well. No more polite and cheery good mornings! in the hallway or asking what he had for lunch, no more random texting of memes at 3am because you both didn’t have friends outside the institute.

Pure silence from the other side.

It should’ve comforted you – you wanted to stay away from him, right? – but you only grew restless. Your focus dwindled with each passing day, finding yourself at the back of Toge’s head longingly when he wasn’t looking, then sighing as you chastised yourself from being stupid.

To be honest, that kiss only made your feelings multiply tenfold.

Now that you knew how warm and comfortable Toge was to the touch, how his lips tasted and how his hair felt under your touch – you crushed on him impossibly harder than before.

You reached a point where you tossed and turn around in bed, unable to fall asleep; completely unaware that just a few doors down, he was doing the same. It had you thinking back to that day all over again, wondering why did he kiss you? If he liked you, why did he never talk to you? He never even noticed you before and you were always the first one to strike conversation, but because the others were always around, chats were limited, one-worded, and awkward.

That cursed technique of yours was still useless, after all.

“Would you please stop moping around?” Megumi slammed his book down on the table next to you, and you jumped in your seat, clutching your pencil to your chest. “I’m tired of you eye-fucking Inumaki-senpai.”

“Wha – ? No, I wasn’t, what are you talking about?”

“You’ve both been acting weird,” observed Yuuji who stopped fighting with Nobara over who would win in an arm wrestling fight without special abilities: Gojo-Sensei or Nanami. Nobara nodded beside him, stealing Yuuji’s crisp chips before speaking. “You both can’t even glance at each other. All of us can feel that something’s wrong between you two.”

“They probably fucked in the storage room.”

“Nobara, keep your voice down!”

“Why should I?” she smirked, jabbing her thumb to an asleep Toge lounging on the field with Panda. “Your precious crush is asleep. He won’t know. But whatever, what did happen when we locked you both there?”

“You all humiliated me, that’s what happened!”

“What do you mean humiliated?” Megumi asked this time around, and you buried your face in your arms, glancing over at Toge again. He was slumbering peacefully, his body shaded from the sun under the tree, and your fingertips itched with the urge to hold him close again.

“He doesn’t like me,” you concluded with trembling lips, sending one last longing glance at Toge. “And I think I just absolutely ruined everything.”

No matter how much your underclassmen tried to cheer you up, your spirits were never lifted. You trudged back to your room that night, tired and drained from all the events that you just buried your nose in your textbook, studying about curses for next week’s exams.

The words began to blur and you sighed on your seat, glancing at your phone. It was nearing midnight and the dorms were oddly quiet, but you guessed everyone just had a long day.

Soon, you brushed your teeth and moved to retire for the night when three soft knocks came from your door. Your hand stilled on your blanket, brows furrowed at who could it be this time of the night. After fixing your hair to make yourself presentable, you swung the door open, ready to hit Yuuji if he came here to drag you down to the movie room and force you to watch horror movies again when you were harshly pushed, the stranger kicking the door back.

You gasped as warm lips came crashing down to yours, your hands pinned above your hand with just one arm.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know it was Toge who’d placed a knee between your legs to prevent you from falling; your knees already turning to jelly before you even registered it was him. The familiar taste of something sweet like candy and cough syrup coated your senses and you moaned in his arms as his hands ran under your shirt, making the hairs on your body prickle up in anticipation.

Toge took advantage of your moan, his tongue slipping inside before it clashed with yours. It was too much – his overwhelming scent, his tongue tasting yours, his hands squeezing your breasts tenderly – you were on the verge of falling apart.

Fire burned all over your body, pure instinct dominating your conscious mind as you pushed him back, Toge falling down with you scrambling above him.

He grunted at your sloppy actions of trying to tug his shirt over his head, but he complied, reaching up at the same time you leant down for another wet, heated kiss. The kiss this time around was far less gentle and more urgent; your mutual pining for one another tipping over the edge until all hell broke loose.

You settled into his lap as if it were a throne and he encouraged you to take it, to claim him because he considered you the queen of his world.

“Toge, I,” you rambled after every peck, unable to form a complete sentence because you kept wanting to kiss him. It was nearly impossible to pull away now that he held you so close, making you feel like home and driving you absolutely insane. “I can’t do it anymore, mmhm, I want you so much – always have – I don’t want to avoid you and I just want to—”

He stopped your rambling by grabbing your chin forwards, his lips molding over yours again and dancing with it like two perfectly syncopated performers.

Toge’s curious hands ravished every crevice and dip of your curves as he sucked on your tongue, tasting it fervently like a traveler memorizing his path. You shuddered when Toge’s nimble fingers travelled down to cup your ass to lift you upwards, pushing you closer and deeper into his mouth.

None of you cared about anything anymore. You could barely focus on anything but letting your hands roam free down his chest, Toge rutting up to you when your cold hands brushed over his nipple.

Needing air to breathe, you pulled away first, panting as your forehead pressed against his. You stared at each other, lips swollen and wet from the hot make-out session. You were sure that your adoration for him was clearly evident in your eyes, that your feelings for him sparkled and radiated like the bright sunshine’s warmth he always made you feel.

But that wasn’t what drove you crazy.

It was the fact his expression mirrored yours; only his had lust swirling around his dark eyes, an unexplainable plethora of emotions flooding through them. You were breathing hard and so was he, his soft pants warming your lips that were still sore from his hungry ministrations.

Now was the time.

It didn’t matter that maybe he didn’t feel the same way for you; you liked him so much. Your feelings poured over the glass and your eyes glossed over with how your heart frantically chanted his name, wanting nothing and no one else but him.

“I love you,” you confessed, “I fucking love you.”

To your surprise, Toge chuckled, pulling you forward until his chest was flushed against yours. He captured your lips for one last kiss, delicate this time around as his hands cupped your jaw. You tilted your hide to the side to deepen the kiss, and you sighed while Toge rubbed soothing circles at the sides of your jaw then down to your neck.

“You better,” he mumbled through your lips, “Because I fucking love you too, and I don’t want to play this game of push and pull anymore.”

It was your first time to hear such dominance in his words, to witness such need and possessiveness shine back through his eyes, his lips travelling to the sides of your face. Submissively, you arched your back to him and allowed him access to your neck, head lolling to the side. Even as Toge slowly but surely left little love bites to mark you as his, he was gentle and delicate, soft yet hard, bitter but sweet like the longing you had for one another.

Even as he had you trapped under his arms, his heat nestled into the deeper, intimate parts of you that only welcomed no one else but him; your lover was absolutely delicate.

And you only fell for him harder than you already have.

[pumpkin-spice-whump]

Bonfire

i wrote some Kensington! Yayyy!!! its a chaos post that got stupid long. enjoy

CWs: minor whumpee, slave whump, noncon use of drugs and alcohol, underage drinking, recovering alcoholic, referenced abuse, beating, a reveal, Bad Choices by Ashley

Masterlist

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

Kensington sat criss-cross on the hardwood next to the sliding glass door, staring outside. It was getting warmer outside, almost summer again. Summer had always been his favorite season, despite usually having to work in the heat. He loved the flowers and full trees, the sprinklers watering the soft grass and bees buzzing around him. He loved how it smelled, and how it felt. People were more relaxed and kind.

Grayson had bought him at the tail end of last summer. Which meant that Kensington had lived with him for almost a full year. A year wasn’t really that long, when he thought about it. He’d lived through nearly eighteen of them. But in just one year, Grayson had single handedly ruined his life.

He was missing parts of himself he didn’t think he ever would. He couldn’t see properly. Couldn’t hear. He hurt constantly, was always scared and on edge. The only reprieve he’d gotten was when Grayson went on business trips, like he was right now. But it would end just tomorrow night, and Kensington was scared to death of having to face his master again.

At least he had Ashley. Beautiful, selfless, strong and gentle Ashley. Ever since she’d met him, she’d been nothing but kind. She picked him up when he fell, fed him when he was hungry and held him when he cried. She should be home from work any moment now, and Kensington found himself looking forward to that time every single day. He was definitely looking forward to it now, staring at what he wanted more than anything, but was forbidden from.

What did Grayson gain? What exactly was so exciting to him about tormenting and hurting a pathetic slave? Kensington couldn’t fight back if he wanted to, so what was the point? It had been almost a full year since he’d snuck out his window, and he could count the number of times he’d been out since then on one hand. Just because Grayson knew it hurt him.

Kensington felt his chest get hot with anger. It was new, this ball of rage he carried within himself, but he thought liked it. The only downside was that there was nothing he could do to get it out of his system, so he just kept it deep inside himself, feeding it and keeping it alive.

The only downside, besides having no outlet for his newfound anger, was that it always made him cry. Nothing was stupider than crying when you’re angry, and doing it only made him angrier.

Kensington brushed the tears away with his sleeve, standing and pulling the blinds, hiding the outside world he couldn’t be a part of.

He collapsed on the couch, arm over his eyes and took deep, calming breaths. He couldn’t spend the entire day crying and feeling stupid, it was his last day without Grayson for a while, and it would not be wasted. He took a few more minutes to get a hold of himself before making some pink lemonade (something he’d only started having since Ashley moved in) and putting on a TV show.

He heard her voice before he heard the key in the door. Kensington unconsciously sat up straighter, turning slightly to see the front door open before turning back like he didn’t care.

“No, I’d love to come, but you don’t get it,” Ashley was saying. She closed the door and went to drop her bag on the counter, shucking off her jacket. She waved at Kensington, who shyly waved back. “Daniella, please, I told you... It’s personal! I don’t have to --” she looked at the ceiling, annoyed. “Whatever. I’ll talk to you later… Yeah. Okay, I’ll let you know… Mm-hmm. Bye.” She put her phone face-down on the counter and groaned.

Kensington paused the show, screen frozen on a bloodied knife in the air, ready to come down again. “What’s wrong?”

Ashley rolled her eyes, filling up her water bottle. “Ugh. Some of my friends from before want me to come to a bonfire. And it’s not like I don’t want to go, I just don’t want to put myself in that environment, you know?”

He knew. Ashley had started being very open with him about her alcohol addiction, since no one else in her family cared to listen to her. He liked being trusted like that.

“But they really want me to go, since I’ve been ‘MIA’,” she punctuated the word with air-quotes, pausing to take a drink. “It’s the first bonfire of the season, too, so everyone’s like, psyched.” She collapsed on the couch next to Kensington, putting her feet on the coffee table. “I don’t know.”

“Sorry,” Kensington said, not sure what else he could say. He didn’t know anything about bonfires or addiction or friends. He was a shut-in essentially, with no experience in life and no advice to give. “I wish I could help.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I want to go, I just don’t trust myself to go alone. If I had someone who knew and could go with me…”

She trailed off and then looked to Kensington, eyes bright.

He furrowed his brows. “What?”

Ashley smiled. “You wanna come?”

Kensington laughed. “Yeah, right.” Ashley didn’t laugh. He felt his face drop. “Wait are you serious?”

She shrugged. “Why not? You can come and keep me sober, meet my friends, get out for once! And Gray’s gone until tomorrow. It’s perfect!”

Nerves bundled up in his chest and he squirmed in his seat. “I don’t know, Ashley…”

“Come on! It’ll be so much fun, Kensi! Don’t you wanna go out for once?”

Kensington sighed. “I’m not allowed to go in the backyard, much less leave the house and go -- where?”

“Lake Millercroft. Just fifteen miles outside of town.” Kensington opened his mouth, but Ashley spoke first. “Hear me out. When will you get to do this again? Grayson will never know. I won’t say anything. And who knows when he’ll let you out of the house. I mean, like you said, he doesn’t like you in the backyard! Don’t you miss it?”

He missed it more than anything. Almost more than the parts of him that were taken. Ashley couldn’t possibly understand how much he missed just existing in a space that wasn’t this stupid house.

And really… how would Grayson know? He didn’t associate with Ashley’s friends, Ashley wouldn’t say, and Kensington definitely wouldn’t say. There was no telling when he’d get another chance. If he’d ever get another chance.

So, tentatively, he nodded.

Ashley squealed, throwing her arms around him. “Oh yes! Thank you thank you Kensington!” She stood up, the hug going by so quickly Kensington could hardly enjoy it. “Oh, I’m gonna call Daniella back, she’ll be so excited! This will be so fun!”

Kensington listened to the conversation for just a few seconds before turning back to the TV and resuming his show. He tried to be just as excited as Ashley, but he couldn’t ignore the anxiety building in his stomach.

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

The light of the bonfire shone all the way at the end of the road, cars parked along it and up to the beach. Some red taillights illuminated the incoming darkness, other partiers arriving a little late like they did.

Ashley’s entire face was lit up, glowing red as she pulled to the side and turned off the car. “There’s more people than I thought, but that’s okay, right?”

Kensington felt his stomach flip. “I guess.” Several smaller fires dotted the shoreline, groups laughing with drinks in hand. But the big crowd was by the big bonfire, the headliner. 

There certainly were a lot of people there. Ashley made it sound like a small thing, just a few close friends. There were at least thirty people on the beach, with more cars pulling in behind them. He already felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“Hey.” He looked back to Ashley. “It’ll be okay.”

Kensington swallowed. He met her eyes. He wanted to get lost in them. “What if…” he lowered his voice. “They’ll be able to tell.”

“Tell what?” she whispered back.

“Tell that… what I am. They’ll be able to tell.” He gestured to the barcode printed on the back of his left hand, and then to his missing finger, missing ear, heavy scars, and left over bruises. Even though he wasn’t wearing his collar like he was supposed to when he left the house… They’ll know. And there’s no telling how they’ll treat him because of it.

“I’ll look out for you.” She reached over the center console and took Kensington’s ruined hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. “We’ll look out for each other, yeah? I got your back, you got mine.”

He stared down at her hand, her perfect, smooth, manicured hand, holding his scarred and disfigured one. She could do this. She always did things like this. Kensington used to be able to do this. He used to be able to leave the house, to talk to whoever he wanted, to feel like he might be able to belong.

He wasn’t like that anymore.

But Ashley was so excited, and she needed him to keep her sober, to watch out for her. So, despite the anxiety and nerves taking over him, he nodded.

Ashley smiled at him, and they both stepped out of the car.

Kensington jammed his hands into his pockets, bracing himself against the breeze. It wasn’t cold yet, but it would be later in the night. Hopefully Ashley wouldn’t want to stay super long…

“Ash!”

A woman with long black hair and a crop top ran towards them, hugging Ashley so hard that Kensington thought she’d cut off her air.

“I’m so glad you made it, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Ashley pulled away, putting her hands on the woman’s shoulders. She had a belly-button piercing. “I know, it’s been too long! I’ve missed you so much.”

Kensington took his hands out of his pocket and fiddled with the sleeves of his flannel, pulling it down over his barcode. The woman noticed him and gave a little tilt of her head.

“Oh.” Ashley stepped away, putting a hand on Kensington’s shoulder. “Daniella, this is Kensington.”

Daniella narrowed her eyes. “Are you just bringing underage boys to parties now, Ash?”

Ashley rolled her eyes as Kensington’s face burned. He looked towards the fire instead, watching as the group around it grew.

“He’s my cousin, freak. Don’t be weird. This is Kensi. He’s visiting and Gray’s out of town so I figured why not?”

Kensington tried not to seem surprised as he looked back at Ashley. Cousin? Like… she’s claiming him as family? He felt his eyes widen before Daniella shrugged, accepting it.

“Whatever. Hey, Kensi, want a beer? Ash?”

“He’s underage, Dani. You literally just said that.” Daniella shrugged again, backing up toward a cooler half-buried in the sand and taking out two cans of beer. “So?”

“His parents would kill me if they knew I let him drink. And I’m driving so none for me either.”

“Alright.”

And that was it. Daniella and Ashley started the walk towards the bonfire, Kensington uncomfortably trailing behind them.

Ashley wanted Kensington there to keep her sober. She’d already done a fine job deflecting a drink that was handed to her. What else did he need to be there for? Kensington didn’t really know how it all worked, but wouldn’t she be good now?

He stood next to Ashley by the bonfire, shivering as another breeze went by.

Ashley quickly busied herself, screaming in excitement while seeing other friends, deflecting questions left and right about where she’d been and why she hadn’t been answering their calls and who was that teenager she brought with her?

Kensington just awkwardly smiled when he was referred to, keeping his sleeve down over his hand. His hair over his ear. His left side to the group.

How did he used to be comfortable with all this? How did he used to talk to people and feel safe in groups?

There were too many people surrounding him by the bonfire, too many eyes and whispers behind cupped hands. They knew. They all knew what he was and what had been done to him and he did not want to be there anymore. 

He wanted to go home and enjoy his last night without Grayson for a while. He wanted to watch TV and build LEGOS and enjoy himself without looking over his shoulder in fear the entire time. He wanted to be comfortable and safe for once in his life.

Suddenly the air was too thin. The bodies and the smoke and the smell of alcohol were choking him and he needed to breathe but he couldn’t. It was too full here, too suffocating. He looked for Ashley but it seemed like she had gotten swallowed by the crowd, and he didn’t want to bring attention to himself by calling out for her.

Kensington gently pushed his way through the crowd -- well over a hundred people -- and walked away as fast as he could without drawing suspicion.

It was much colder now, the breeze stronger, but it didn’t matter. He just needed a moment to himself, and for once he could actually step away -- outside -- to have it.

Alone, Kensington turned his back to the fire and stared out at the lake. He took a deep breath in and allowed himself to revel in the feeling of being outside again. The cool night air carrying the smell of the lake and the fire. The movement of the sand and rocks under his shoes. The gentle waves of the lake-water lapping at the shore in the wind. They were all things Kensington had missed, things he hadn’t seen in months or years. He knew he missed it, but he didn’t know how much until he was able to be there again.

Warm tears made their way down his face. Kensington closed his eyes, letting the wind dry them. The sounds of the party faded away, and he let himself bathe in this moment, a moment he would surely never get to feel again, for as long as possible.

A particularly loud shout snapped him out of it, blinking away the tears and turning towards the bonfire again. It seemed a group of girls had taken off their tops, showing off their bras to the entire party. Kensington found himself searching for Ashley in the group and shamefully turned his face back to the lake, wiping his tears. Ashley clearly didn’t want him thinking about her that way. He wouldn’t want anyone thinking about him that way either.

“Hey!”

A ring of men in their twenties at a smaller nearby fire called out. Kensington looked around himself, seeing no one, and looked back.

“Yeah you! Curly! Come here!”

He glanced at the bonfire crowd briefly, but didn’t see Ashley. And if she was one of the ones who took their tops off, then he wouldn’t see her. He wouldn’t betray her trust like that. He trudged through the sand to the campfire.

A man with tanned skin and a backwards cap greeted him. “Hey man. You come here with someone?”

Kensington nodded.

Another man spoke. “Someone brought their little brother? What are you, like thirteen?”

“Seventeen,” Kensington answered automatically.

The last man, a blonde in a hoodie with some word Kensington couldn’t read on it, spoke. “What’s your name?”

Kensington shoved his hands in his pockets. “Kensi.”

“That’s a girl’s name, bro,” the blonde said. “I’m Ethan. This is Mike and Teddy.” He pointed to the second, then first man. They each nodded as their names were said. “You want a beer?” Ethan reached down into a cooler before Kensington even answered.

“Oh, I’m -- I’m okay. I don’t really drink --” A cold can was thrust into his hand. Kensington swallowed. “I’m not allowed…”

“Oh come on, Kensi,” Teddy said, taking a drink. “Mommy’s not here tonight. Don’t be a pussy.”

“Yeah, man,” Mike contributed. “Let loose. Here.” He took the can from Kensington’s grasp and opened it. “Drink.”

He stared openly at the three men before him. They didn’t know he was a slave. They couldn’t have. They were just doing it because he was young and alone -- just because they could. And that scared Kensington more than he could process at that moment.

With a shaking hand, he drank.

“No, dude,” Ethan said. He tipped the can back towards Kensington’s lips. “Drink.”

Kensington choked and coughed on the bitter taste, but Ethan didn’t let go. His chest tightened, lungs burning as he downed nearly the entire can before he finally let go. Kensington keeled over, coughing and gasping for air. The men laughed.

“Never chugged a beer before?”

“Aww are you okay, baby?”

He straightened himself out, gulping in the cool night air. It wasn’t nearly as comforting as it had been a few minutes ago.

“You’ll live,” Teddy laughed, patting him on the back. “Here.” Another can was thrust into his hand.

Kensington felt tears prick his eyes, but he did his best to push them away. He did not want to know what they’d do if he cried. How many more times would they make him drink? He couldn’t even think about it before it was once again raised to his mouth and kept there, forcing him to once again drink the entire can. Kensington choked, spilling it over his shirt, and keeling over again, trying not to vomit. His stomach rolled dangerously.

“Here, I got something real good for ya.” Kensington looked up to see Mike pulling a plastic baggie from his pocket. He removed what looked like a crumpled cigarette from the bag, smirking at Kensington. “I’m assuming you’ve never had one of these?”

“What is it?” Kensington asked, wiping his mouth. He glanced back at the bonfire group, body tensing as he thought about running. Unfortunately the men must’ve thought the same thing, as Ethan and Teddy each put a heavy hand on his shoulders.

Where is Ashley?

“Don’t tell me you’ve never even seen a joint?” Teddy laughed.

Mike lit it up and took a drag, face relaxing. “Take a hit.”

Ashley please I want to go home. 

His head was already starting to buzz from the alcohol -- the first taste of it he’d ever had. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was being offered, but he had a pretty good idea and wanted none of it. Not if it would only make him feel worse. He hunched his shoulders, crossing his arms and looking away. “No.”

He could almost physically feel the mood around him change. They dropped the harmless facade almost immediately and leaned into the cruelty they were pathetically trying to mask.

The hands on his shoulders slid to his arms, and wrenched them behind him, leaving him bare and vulnerable for anything they wanted to do. His breath visibly hitched, panic sparking in his chest. He tried to pull his arms back, but they were much stronger than him. He was trapped.

Kensington prayed they wouldn’t see his barcode. These were people who couldn’t know he was a slave, no matter what. If they were willing to treat him like this if they thought he was free, who knew what they would do if they knew…

Teddy stepped forward, invading what little space Kensington had. “Take. A. Hit,” he ordered. The smell of the joint was already giving him a headache. “Now.”

With a quick glance around, trying desperately to catch the eye of someone -- anyone -- to help him and coming up with nothing, Kensington accepted his fate.

He immediately fell into a coughing fit, trying to wrench his head away. The feeling of smoke in his lungs was severely unwelcome and he needed it out. As soon as Teddy took it away and the tears in his vision cleared, Kensington felt the high coming on.

He needed to get away from them. Now. The feeling in his chest and his head were awful and made him feel like he needed to throw up or lay down. Or both. He didn’t know how far they were planning to take their fun, but he did not want to find out.

The joint was shoved in his face again. “Here, take another.”

Kensington shook his head. “Please… please let me go. I … I don’t like this…”

The men laughed.

“Aww you don’t like it?” Ethan asked.

“Guess we gotta let him go boys.”

“See ya have a good rest of your night!”

Teddy took a hit, exhaling slowly and letting his eyes slip closed. “Kensi. Kensi, Kensi,

Kensi.” He opened his eyes again, staring Kensington down. “You’re with us now, kid. Buckle up for the night, because you’re just not leaving.”

The backhand took him completely by surprise. His head whipped to the side, shoulders hunching. He would’ve fallen to the ground save for the men holding him up. 

“Pussy,” Teddy said. He punctuated it by spitting in Kensington’s face and laughing like an idiot.

The fear in Kensington’s chest grew.

And so did his anger.

These men thought they were the scariest thing that had happened to Kensington. They thought that they held all the power in the world, that he would go home and think about this night for years to come, terrified that he could come across them again. Every day in Kensington’s life was like this. Someone else always held his life in their hands, and they never once cared about it.

He’s not with them. He’s leaving.

Kensington geared back and rammed his shoulder into Ethan’s gut, making him lose his grip enough for Kensington to slip out. He spun around and tried to wrench his left arm away from Mike, slipping away just a little bit before Teddy hit him again. He hit the sand, one arm still wrenched away from his body. The pain broke through the worsening fog in his brain, and Kensington cried out.

“Shut up!” Teddy hissed, kicking him. Kensington’s chest flared in pain.

“No way,” Mike said, tightening his grip on Kensington’s arm.

His stomach dropped, rage completely disappearing, and fear replacing it all.

“This kid’s a slave.”

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

She said no. She said no. Ashley was reeling. She had been faced with the choice between taking a drink and rejecting it and she. Said. No.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure what she was thinking going to the party. She had no idea if she was strong enough to actually stand her ground when faced with alcohol. A large part of going was just to test herself, to see if she actually could do it. And she did. For the first time ever!

And now she had to leave. The pressure was still weighing on her, the need to drink was making her almost shake. No, she was shaking. She had to get out of there.

But first she had to find Kensington.

Where was he? He’d been right next to her the entire night, hadn’t he? Right up until she’d been offered the drink only a few minutes ago… Right?

Truthfully, she didn’t actually invite him to keep her sober. She just wanted to get him out of that house. Grayson was on some crazy power trip with that kid, and Ashley didn’t like it one bit. Kensington was so sweet and adorable and didn’t deserve a single thing her psycho brother did to him.

“Hey, Daniella.” Ashley tapped her friend on the shoulder. “You seen Kensington?” Daniella was wasted. She could barely focus her eyes on Ashley. Some guy was basically holding her up and Ashley judgmentally looked him up and down. He didn’t look totally sober either. “I seen what?”

“Kensi. My cousin, or step-brother or whatever. The kid I brought.”

“Yo, blonde? Curly?” the dude asked. His words were slurred.

Ashley narrowed her eyes. “Yes?”

“I saw him… near the parking lot.” He smiled creepily, giving Ashley a look she couldn’t really decipher.

Ashley glanced over to the parking lot, but didn’t see anyone that looked like Kensington. “Thanks,” she muttered. Before she left, she made deliberate eye contact with Daniella and made the hand sign they’ve had for years. Something that said Are you safe? Do you need help?

Daniella smiled and responded with another sign. I’m fine. I feel okay.

Still, Ashley asked another one of their friends to please keep an eye on her before she went on her search for Kensington by the parking lot.

The lot was deserted of people, save for a few couples getting busy in their cars. She looked at the edge of the woods that broke into the clearing used as a parking lot.

“Kensi?” she called quietly. “Kensington?”

Was he waiting for her by her car? She really hoped so. Where did she park?

Ashley shivered in her thin jacket, wrapping her arms around herself. “Kensi? Come on, let’s go home. Where are you?” Was he even wearing a jacket?

What the hell was she thinking bringing him there? The kid hadn’t been outside in months or something and the first place she brought him was some beach bonfire that got crashed by like two colleges? What was wrong with her? She swore that being sober made her stupider.

“Kensington?”

Where was her car?!

Oh her keys. She dug through her bag and pressed the key fob, looking for the lights. Her car wasn’t nearly as far as she thought it was, and she doubled back to it.

“Kensington? Are you here?” Beyond the sounds of the woods and the bonfire and one car that was getting particularly steamy, Ashley heard a small voice.

“Kensi?”

Next to the driver’s door of her car was a form nearly concealed in the darkness. Ashley exhaled in relief, running to him.

“Kensington you scared the ever loving-- … Kensington?”

Ashley fumbled for her phone, turning on the flashlight. She gasped in horror, falling to her knees beside him.

Kensington was bleeding. Blood ran down from his hairline, covering his face. He cradled his left arm protectively, shying away from Ashley and the light. He was crying, shoulders shaking as he tried to hide his face.

“Oh gosh, Kensington…” she reached out for him, but he flinched away, sobbing. Her heart broke. “It’s me, Kensi. It’s Ashley. I won’t hurt you.” She gently rested a hand on his shoulder. He flinched again, but glanced up at her with tear-filled eyes.

Ashley nearly lost her balance as Kensington flung himself at her, wrapping his arm around her while keeping the other one tightly to himself. He buried his face into her shoulder, sobbing.

She could feel her shirt soaking through and prayed it was with tears. She put her hand on Kensington’s back, rubbing circles.

“Okay. You’re okay. I’m so sorry, but I have you now. You’re okay now.”

“I want to go home, Ashley,” he mumbled into her shoulder. He stank of weed and booze, his words slurred. “Please take me home. I don’t like it here.”

Ashley nodded, guilt crashing over her in waves. She nodded, standing up slowly with Kensington’s weight on her shoulder. She was careful to be gentle with his apparently injured arm. His face rolled on her shoulder, blood shining in the firelight. She unlocked her car and set him in inside, apologizing when he winced in pain. His ribs must be hurt too.

The car ride home was silent. The natural high Ashley was riding by successfully leaving sober had ended as soon as she found Kensington. How could she let that happen? She’d promised to stay by him, and hadn’t even noticed when he’d disappeared. How long was he alone?

Kensington had his head rested on the window, occasional gasps of pain when the car jolted escaping him. Ashley tried to drive smoothly.

“I’m so sorry, Kensi,” Ashley forced out.

He didn’t answer, head turned against the window. Ashley hoped he fell asleep.

Then: “Why did you leave me alone? I only went to be with you, Ashley.”

Ashley’s heart broke all over again.

They pulled up to the house just before midnight. Kensington really was half asleep by the time they got there, eyes drooping and red.

“Come on, Kensi,” Ashley whispered, reaching over and unbuckling his seatbelt. He blinked at her blearily. “I got you.” She threw his good arm over her shoulder again, hoisting him up. He wasn’t very heavy.

Ashley somehow got her keys and unlocked the front door. Grayson’s dark condo seemed as welcoming as ever, hauling in a drunk and high teenager beside her. He was gonna have a wicked hangover tomorrow.

She half-dragged, half-carried him to his ‘room’, letting him down on the cot he called a bed.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered.

Ashley grabbed a glass of water, some ibuprofen, and an extra pillow from the couch before returning.

“Kensington?”

“Hmm?”

“Sit up for me? I have some water for you.” Ashley had to keep a hand behind his back as he drank ravenously. “Okay. Lay on your side okay?” She made a mental note to refill the water and maybe grab a trash can for him before she went to bed. She propped the pillow behind his back to help him stay on his side. There was no telling how he would respond to the drugs and alcohol. She wasn’t taking risks.

“You okay, Kensi?”

He blearily nodded, eyes slipping closed. Ashley pulled his blanket over him. Poor kid.

“I’m really, sorry,” she whispered, pushing back his hair.

“I don’t feel good.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like it here.” His voice broke and tears started falling down his face again, eyes opening and looking at Ashley with despair. “I don’t want Grayson to come home tomorrow.”

Ashley knelt beside him and took his hand. “I know. But you’re okay, Kensington. You’ll be okay.”

He shook his head. “Why do you always say that? You don’t know that. You don’t know what he does.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest, blood running cold. “What does he do?”

Kensington let go of her hand, curling it into a fist and hiding it under his pillow. “I lost my finger because of him,” he muttered.

Ashley’s face got hot.

“And my eye. And my ear. And some teeth. And he cuts me up and locks me away and I hate it.” He was almost shaking with rage. Ashley had never heard him talk like that -- she had no idea he could. Tears fell, hot and fast, as he ground his teeth with anger.

“Oh Kensi…”

“I hate him. I hate him so much. He made my life miserable and I hate my life now and I hate him.”

Ashley didn’t know what to say. Of course he hated her brother. He did all of those horrible things and Ashley didn’t even have any idea. She was living with some sort of sadistic maniac. Kensington was living with a sadistic maniac.

“Don’t tell him I hate him,” Kensington begged, eyes closed.

Ashley pushed his hair back again, pulling the blanket over his shoulder. She would take a look at it in the morning, along with his other cut on his forehead. She’d clean him up then, too. Maybe she should’ve done it tonight.

Either way, tonight she would just let him sleep.

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

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